#appearance: jeopardy!

[derekklenadaily]

@giftober | Day 19: Purple

[imbackbilly]

Why do these shampoo companies act like the moment I use a women's shampoo, my dick is gonna fall off and I'm gonna grow a pussy /j

If you don't feel comfortable answering this, here's a different question:

Who's usually the little spoon?

exactly. This is bullshit!.

AND ME. OFC (he's little spoon. He is small triangle. He is small man.)

[practically-an-x-man]

not today's jeopardy contestant being basically a comic-accurate Alex Summers XD

[thebroccolination]

I think this moment might end up in my top three of the series.

Like him or not, every action Jun has done in the story has been for love or protection of someone else.

When he encouraged the rift in the group, it was because he’d seen Thame destroying himself to keep them together, and he saw Korea as Thame’s only escape route, even if Thame himself didn’t want to take it.

When Jun was pursuing Po, it was because he believed Thame wasn’t interested, and when Jun found out Thame was, he still pushed a bit just to make sure Thame was serious, to protect Po. Because Jun knew what Po had gone through with Earn—whether that was something Po told him himself or something Jun found out on his own somehow. When he saw how earnestly Thame felt for Po, he stepped back even though it hurt him because he knew Po had always wanted Thame.

In many ways, Jun appears to have the kind of cutthroat attitude that would make him thrive in the entertainment industry. But we see over and over that what he’s truly cutthroat about is love. He loves Thame, he grew to love Po, and he loves his group.

And when Jun realized that there was no immediate way out of their situation in that hallway, he went to the member whose world was most in jeopardy: Nano. The one who’d been most reluctant to come back because he had the most to lose.

And it would have been so easy to show Jun going offscreen like Dylan and Pepper, but instead we see him quietly cover Nano with his own body, even if he can’t do or say anything else. Because Nano agreed to the risk, part of that choice meant gaining back his found family.

So while Dylan rages, Pepper freezes up, and Thame melts down, Jun is the only one left to take care of the youngest, and so he does.

I love Jun.

[moonshine-nightlight]

Voluntary Sacrifice

inspired by this prompt/setup by @snowkissedmonsters as well as their art

The local werebear is in heat and its become a town concern. You, who's always been fascinated by him and doesn't much to lose reputationally, volunteer to help him through it.

If only he believed you were doing so voluntarily, instead of being forced by the council.

Can you convince him of your sincerity before the full moon rises?

Male werebear x human reader, Heat, NSFW

Status: Complete (One-shot)

Length: 12k

AO3: Voluntary Sacrifice

Prompt:

You live in a human town in a fantasy world. In recent history, werecreatures enlisted to fight alongside humans throughout a bitter war in the territory. The result of that alliance is a (sometimes tense) tolerance between these two species who generally do not get along.

In the wilderness near your town, a werebear veteran has made his home. Bearish in appearance and manner, he vastly prefers solitude and is actively hostile to visitors. Sometimes he comes into town to sell meat and pelts from his hunts. The other humans are frightened, but you find him fascinating and peculiarly handsome.

A slew of livestock deaths precede an emergency town meeting. There's no question who the culprit is, or why. The town elders understand that a werecreature in heat is aggressive and dangerous. The town's interspecies liason officer, a veteran who fought beside the werebear, explains that it's not a deliberate attack on the town's livelihood, but even so, the maulings cannot continue. It may only be a matter of time before a human is injured.

The liason suggests hiring one of the workers at the town brothel to act as a "heat soother," but the brothel workers don't want the job. There's still a stigma over non-human creatures. The werebear is dangerous, violent, monstrous. Who knows if a human mate would even survive.

Tentatively, you volunteer for the role. You have no living family that could be shamed, you're naturally infertile so there's no concern over cubs, and... Well. You like the idea of it, though you keep that last point to yourself.

You are escorted to the werebears cabin by the eager liason officer, who's just glad the precarious human-werebeast alliance is no longer in jeopardy. Answering the door, the werebear looks surprised to see the two of you...

Then annoyed.

I told you, he growls at the liason, I will not take a forced mate.

The officer coos and assures the bear that you are here voluntarily, which he seems to doubt very much. He throws you both out of his cabin and slams the door.

/

“Good luck!”

You stare after Anton, the liaison officer, as he rides away, at a complete loss of what to do now. You’ve felt a headrush of sorts, like sliding down a hill in winter, since you first resolved to volunteer to help Temar and his slamming of the door in your face was an abrupt stop before you even reached the bottom. You cross your arms, telling yourself its because of the mild chill, not out of anxiety or embarrassment.

But you are, so so embarrassed. You don’t know exactly what you thought his reaction to you might be, but stonewalled indifference and complete refusal to even entertain the idea of mating with you wasn’t one of them. Heat licks at your cheeks from the way he’d looked at you, his lip curled in a snarl, something more than even just annoyance in his eyes. You’d felt the urge to shrink right then and there and only surprise kept you frozen upright.

You know you weren’t as young as the other unaffiliated women in town, weren’t as pretty, weren’t as agreeable, but surely he couldn’t smell your infertility or whatever made you feel so out of place with everyone else. What about you had been so offputting he’d not even considered you for a mate? You’d almost hoped that whatever made you so unappealing as a human mate might make you more appealing to a werebear. So much for that.

You’re not one for much dignity as it is, no one to stand on high graces, and you try not to let others’ opinions bother you, beyond where they interfere with your own ability to make your living. But even you can’t bring yourself to try to convince him to mate with you when he so clearly has absolutely no interest. Did you sacrifice what little standing you did have a reasonable and respectable person by volunteering for this only to not even be able to manage it? Was it for nothing?

You had only found the courage to approach him because of the surface-level reason of slaughtered livestock and fear for a person’s injury, but now, now you felt almost responsible for not being able to prevent such an occurrence. All because Temar found you unappealing.

You can’t leave without even saying more than a hasty word to him though. Maybe there’s some other way you can help. You’ve wanted an excuse to get to know him better for years, since you first saw him. Even before that, when someone stopped by your shop with some of the pelts they’d bought from him.

Beyond his attractive appearance being more than enough to draw your attention, he’s lived such an interesting life. The liaison was liberal with his stories and his own accomplishments in the war, but he never short-changed his friend. You also found the stories of people who have crossed him or questioned him entertaining more than scary. His refusal to play along with the petty etiquette of the town was funny, as were people’s puffed up reactions. Perhaps you should have expected this reaction after all, maybe he just doesn’t like humans.

The thought against brings embarrassed heat to your face once more as you remember how he’d looked in the doorway. His beard and mustache, short but full, the scar across his nose, those dark brown eyes. His hair was shaved on both sides, but long in the middle, pulled back into a loose bun and peppered with gray like his beard. Tall as you remember, but stockier—his frame particularly broad in the narrow doorway. You’d always found him especially handsome. There was no question what sort of were he was.

Before today, the closest you’d been was at the general store, behind him line for some flour, putting to rest the rumors that werecreatures only ate meat. His presence had fascinated you, large but contained. Wild but settled. Immovable, but not aggressive. Deliberate. You’d found your mind drifting to thoughts of him that night. Your mind liked to turn the idea of him over, half speculation, half pieced together clues from overheard gossip. When you were particularly lonely or even just particularly cold, it was comforting to know he was on his own too. He seemed to prefer it even. You preferred your solitude most of the time as well—half caught between feeling like an outsider for the inclination, half relieved since that’s where you ended up. You wouldn’t mind another friend who felt so, a bit of company you didn’t need to perform in front of. And it would be nice, to be useful to someone else who had no one.

You know he needs help now, more than ever. The liaison had assured them at the meeting that Temar was making every attempt to contain himself. Which reassured you that you’d not missed a callous trend in his nature, but also made you want to help more—not help with the abstract problem, but help him. The next best solution that had been discussed—and would likely need to be implemented now that it turned out you’d failed, you realize with a sinking heart—was to institute a town wide curfew until this ran its course. But maybe there is still some way you can aid him, even if not by soothing his heat directly.

You stand up straight, pushing off the railing you’d been leaning against, and resolve to at least try to talk to him. After all, you understood his continued solitude, but it felt silly during the meeting, that he wasn’t there to lend his own input. Surely he had the most insight into his situation. He must know what he needed. You raise you hand to knock on the door when it opens before you even get the chance.

“If you ain’t gonna have the sense leave, then get in,” a gruff voice orders.

Your feet are moving before you fully register the words. Relief floods your veins. Well, that was easier than you expected. Perhaps things were turning around.

/

They were not. Any hope you had for some softening of his attitude was quickly dashed.

It had seemed promising: the smell of cooking food, the heat that filled the main room from the large fire, the sound of crackling logs. All ease some of the tension in your bones immediately—not to mention that same deliberate air Temar had, the one that made you feel steady and safe. Safe enough to want what you want, without your usual instinct to hide such thoughts and feelings until you were alone lest others use them to hurt you.

You try to focus on the room itself, from the handmade furniture—you’d have recognized Ben’s work if it was—to the scant decoration. The cabin was simple, unadorned, but solid. It suited him. It made the few personal items he had stick out all the more. The large blanket and rug to make the room feel lived in. The well-cared for hunting gear in the corner. The collection of copper kitchenware, clearly used often.

Nearly as soon as you finished your preliminary survey of his home, he makes it very clear he still did not want you. “No notion of what’s going on in that fool Anton’s head, leaving you on my porch like bottles of milk,” he sighs, looking disgruntled and you fight the urge to apologize. He tucks a strand of hair that escaped his bun behind his ear and your fingers itch to do the same. You clench them tighter behind you, upset at how wild your thoughts are in the face of his rejection. “Fess up, what did they tell you? I don’t know what those old fearmongers at the counsel did to make you come here, but I’ll not hold it against you—only them.”

You tilt your head as you watch him pace over the fire, trying to keep your eyes on his head, not how well he fills out his trousers. You realize belatedly that you must still need to clarify. “There was a town meeting, but I volunteered, like Anton said,” you reply tentatively. He’d heard what his friend said. Right? Maybe that was why he’d refused? Not because he found you so abhorrent.

Temar scoffs. “Anton wouldn’t recognize subtle coercion if it stabbed him the back.”

You frown, starting to get a little frustrated with his seeming inability to hear you properly. “Be that as it may, I can. It’s the truth.”

Temar raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Right,” he says flatly. “Just like five years ago, when I moved here and Miss Ketevan was left on my doorstop around harvest time. She just wanted to offer some apples before high tailing it out of there once her grandfather was out-of-sight. Must have been crying and yelling for some other reason.”

Your frown deepens. The last of your family had died around then and you’d not joined a town meeting for a full year, plenty busy with grief and figuring out how to run the dye shop without any guidance. Keti was a younger than you but had a reputation as a troublemaker so she had been in the gossip plenty. Her grandfather, Carlos, was on the counsel and had seemed to consider her something of an embarrassment.

You thought she’d run off with the milkmaid, not because she was a failed sacrifice to the new werebear neighbor. It does throw into relief some other statements at the meeting. Like Anton’s emphasis on volunteers as he’d stared Carlos’ down, which had led to no one but you speaking up—not even the brothel workers. They’d not said but you knew they feared clients shunning whoever they sent, let alone however they felt about the stigma and fear associated with werecreatures.

 “I have no idea what did or did not happen five years ago, I wasn’t at any of those meetings nor at your house,” you say with a shrug. “Keti’s moved to the other side of the river, according to her sister, and is quite satisfied there. None of which was brought up at the meeting today.”

“What do they have on you?” Temar asks, squatting to stoke the fire, as if you just didn’t want to tell the truth his face. Ignoring everything you were saying while still trying to get answers from you. You liked tell about how stubborn he was in gossip. You liked it less at this moment. “If I can aid you and you can go on home, you’re welcome to ask.”

“They don’t have anything on me,” you reply slowly, trying to match his even tone so he doesn’t think your lying. The embarrassment that comes with volunteering so plainly to mate with him comes and goes in waves, but having to repeat it to him is a different flavor all together. “I am here of my own free will.”

Temar scoffs and huffs. “If you don’t want to tell me then fine.” He heaves himself back to his feet and peers out the window. “Sun’s going down. You can stay here for dinner and for the night. That better satisfy them, because you’re leaving first light in the morning.”

You turn away from his back, staring blindly at the countertop covered in ingredients for dinner. The one you interrupted with this piss-poor intrusion. He was likely just trying to give you an out, an excuse to save some dignity. You should’ve known you’d have no skill at seduction, not that you’d believed you’d need it. You’d hoped he be satisfied enough, in need enough that you’d suffice by being willing and not unattractive. Or so you thought. How pathetic. “I just wanted to help,” you say softly, more to yourself than him.

You sigh before walking over to the counter and picking up a knife. “Thank you for your hospitality,” you manage, your voice stiff with discomfort, but unwilling to completely give up yet. “Allow me to assist with the food.”

Dinner preparation is tense, quiet, but a relatively smooth affair. Temar’s already got the chicken dumplings nearly done so you leave that to him and handle the rest.

He only speaks to point you toward where things are when you ask. You’re happy he’s letting you do this much as you’ve more than got the message he’d prefer to do it all alone. You try to concentrate hard enough not to think about anything else.

“These dumplings are delicious,” you say belatedly, after you’ve already scarfed down two of them. They really are, hot and flavorful.

Temar grunts in response and you can’t help but pout, wondering if he thinks everything you say is a lie. You try at some other small talk, but nothing gets more than a yes or no out of him—after the first few, he just makes some vague noise of acknowledgment as he steadily eats through three times the portion of food you got, which had been more than generous. You’d been skeptical of how much he was making until you’d seen how much he was eating.

Did he also have to eat more before winter, like a normal bear? Was he going to sleep through it too? You swear he still came in with pelts, but you don’t really know. You’re more than aware that he’s not likely to give a straight answer if you ask. You ask anyway.

He gives you a look like you’re touched in the head. “No, I don’t hibernate. I stay in more, sleep more since its dark more, but I’m not actually a bear.”

“I know!” you protest, blushing, “but I’ve heard there’s overlap of some kind, forgive me for not being an expert. You’re the only werebear I know by name.”

“You know nothing,” he retorts, words finally bursting from him in a fit of frustration. You’re taken aback, but eager for any information given his recent impression of a clam. “You say you volunteer and yet you don’t know the first thing about werebears, let alone heats. You expect me to think you know what you’re saying you got yourself into when its clear no one explained anything.”

“Well, then you tell me,” you bat back, fed up by now with being treated as a criminal for even entertaining the notion you might be a suitable mate for him. “And don’t act like you wouldn’t have called me a liar even if I’d written a book on werebears and their heats.”

As his way seems to be, he ignores you to keep focus on whatever incorrect train of thought he has stuck in his head. “Even if you’re ignorant, didn’t your family object? Doesn’t someone have sense or self-preservation?”

You glare. Of all the—. “No—” you reply hotly before he cuts in.

“I thought that was something y’all paid attention to,” he drawls, waving with his fork. “ Fraternizing with the werecreatures is still a no-no right?” He leans forward, eyes bright, like a predator finally spotting their prey. “Is it them that the council is leaning on?”

Unfortunately for him, its a false sighting. “Don’t have any,” you reply bluntly, crossing your arms over your chest. “They died. About five years ago.”

You wonder if he’ll make the connection and to your surprise, he seems to as his brow furrows. “I see.” He leans back in his chair as if surrpised to notice he’d moved at all.

“Besides, I’m grown,” you’re annoyed you even have to remind him. He’s treating you like a child, ignoring you, calling you ignorant, making you out as a liar. Like a fool. You’ve long resolved not to let anyone treat you like a fool. “I make my own choices.”

He scoffs in that same manner that’s truly getting under your skin. “Right. How could I forget.”

“I don’t know,” your voice is sharper than its been all evening. “Seeing as I keep reminding you.”

Discomfort creeps into his frame and he looks down at his plate to mutter, “What even made them come up with this plan? Was this Anton’s idea?” He warms up to this new wrong idea—it was Jessaly on the council who had mentioned “heat soothers” seconded by Carlos. Anton only stepped in to mention volunteers. “Because if so, I’ll be having words with him next chance I get, strong words. I anticipated an order to leave town or to be taken to jail or a fight. I’m surprised the council even risked the chance for cubs.”

That last part completely derails you from your planned support for Anton. “Oh,” you can dismiss that concern easy, so you don’t hesitate to, “I can’t have children.”

That stops him completely, freezes him in his chair. “What?”

His reaction surprises you. “I thought…” You thought he could smell the infertility on you. You thought that was part of why he’d refused, like the others. If he couldn’t tell, you still didn’t think he’d have a reaction like this, like everyone else. “I can’t. My monthlies stopped only a few years in and a doctor confirmed the nature of the issue. It’s noted in the records because my engagement to—” You don’t even want to say his name, for all you don’t blame your former fiance. You hadn’t even been that excited about the marriage, but the reality of no marriage ever, well, that had been more of blow the coming years dealt to you. You manage a shaky smile. “No risk of children with me.”

You meet his eyes valiantly and he stares back. You hope you’re right when you don’t see any blooming realization that you’re broken, that you’re any more undesirable, but you’ve long given up trying to tell. Still his focus makes you babble, “I don’t want children anyway.” That at least is the truth and the reminder steadies you. You thought you’d gotten over the worst of this self-recrimination years ago. You were happy not to have that burden, that expectation, that danger in your life. You just want Temar to think well of you, and this always changes how people perceive you, no matter how much you wish it didn’t. That is what truly gets under your skin. Your shoulders drop some tension as your smile softens, becomes more genuine. “Better me than someone who did. It worked out for the best that way.”

If only it meant no partner, no chance for sex beyond work at the brothel—which you were not interested in despite them asking—or  visiting one, which you have in years past. Or the affairs some of the less reputable had tried for in the past. They always made it clear in the end, even if you were alright with the infidelity—it was only because you were ‘safe’ that they wanted you.

“Neither do I,” he says, causing you to look up at him. His expression turns defensive as he clarifies, “That doesn’t mean anything anyways. Still the most foolish idea I ever heard.” He stands up abruptly to refill his plate with a fourth helping.

You eat the remainder of the meal in silence.

Finally, your plate is clean and your belly is full. You manage to take Temar by surprise by snatching up his plate in addition to yours, bringing them over to the wash basin before he could do some himself. You’re determined to do something useful while you’re here and he’s feeding you.

Maybe all lack of eye contact was for him and not you. Maybe you’ll have better luck staring at the water. “So, is there anything you’ll actually let me do to help?”

Another huff, almost a growl of frustration, and Temar replies, grit in his tone, “I told you I ain’t taking a mate just because the town’s made my heat their business this year.”

You don’t even bother arguing the point again and consider his words. You hadn’t thought about other years. There’d never been notice of it so you assumed it wasn’t actually an annual event. What made this year so different? Instead of asking, you return his own volley. “I heard you. I didn’t mean that, though I must mention that the town is only involved because it has become their business this year.”

Temar doesn’t answer, but you can feel his gaze on your back. Being the focus of his attention is electrifying. “Other than having a mate,” you remind yourself outloud. “Are there other things that I can help with? Measures to be taken, information to be shared. Anything?”

There’s silence behind you before he stands up from the table, the scrape of his chair loud. You hope to the gods he’s actually doing something, thought of something in response to your question rather than just leaving. Although technically, you suppose, that would also be a response to your question.

You methodically scrub the dishes while you listen to him move about the main room of the cabin. He sits back down at the table, bringing something with him. You can’t dry this tankard any more thoroughly so you turn around to see if he’s simply ignoring you or not.

He’s bent over something on the table, a piece of paper? You frown and walk over to get a closer look. As if he can sense you, once you’re close enough he points one thick finger at the paper. “Who’s land is this?”

You frown as you study what you realize is a map of the town. Unlike most you’ve seen, it doesn’t have roads or even real buildings on it. Abstract symbols represent structures—you think—and the town center and main street buildings are one big marker. Nothing indicated for individual stores. It takes another minute to realize the outlined shapes covering the map are the property lines, not buildings, roads, or rivers, though some overlap with where you know those to be. Leave it to a werebear to have a map of the town by territory.

“If you don’t know—” he says, huffing per usual.

“Apologies if I need more than a minute,” you huff back, more than fed up and far more assured after the time spent with him that he has no plans to kick you out tonight. “I’ve never seen a map like this.”

He quiets down and you manage to follow your memory of the road out to… “The Meskal’s Farm, Evanna and Leon.” You also manage to make the connection, although you’re not sure he meant for you to. They’d been the most recent farm that had suffered from slaughtered livestock.

Temar brings over a slate with some notes in chalk already written out. He’s got shorthand notes, similar to those on the map, but all unlike any you’ve seen before. He jots down what must be their name above some already existing notes. You squint, trying to make sense of the letters and numbers. “Two ewes and one lamb,” you correct, hoping you decoded right.

He freezes and you hold your breath for annoyance or anger, but instead he merely erases one number and writes in another. “I assume this was discussed with the council?”

“Yeah,” you see no reason to beat around the bush. As you continue to squint at his notes, leaning over his broad shoulder to see better. “The Oche’s steer had to be put down, but they salvaged the meat. Anton reassured them it was edible and bought some himself so the rest of the town followed suit.”

“Still, I’ll be paying my debt, it just might take some time,” Temar replies gravely. “I’ll not have anyone say I don’t pay what I owe or think I don’t owe it, like some uncivilized beast.”

“I can pass that along,” you offer, still reaching for some way to contribute, to help. His integrity touches your heart, makes that urge to give aid stronger. Anton had something vague to the affect, but the town had little confidence in Anton’s assurances. You have confidence in Temar’s.

“I would appreciate that,” he sounds a little belligerent, a little abashed.

You smile, happy to have found anything useful to do and lean in again, to study his map more closely. You mentally map out the other families who had damage and notice they’re all in a line from his property west and against the forest. He does seem to be attempting to keep to limited area. How much control does he have? Could you help corral him somehow?

You reach to point. “Is this the river or—” You start to lose you balance from the awkward angle you’re at. Your other hand reaches for the next closest thing to steady yourself—Temar’s shoulder.

Next thing you know you’re knocking into the table and he’s standing several feet away, a snarl on his face. “Don’t.”

You’re stricken by the vehemence from a such a small, almost-touch of his person. It had been too easy to forget he disliked you so, is so offended by your very presence. “I’m sorry!” It’s as if he thinks you were attempting to trick him. You hasten to clarify, hands raised in surrender. “I wasn’t trying—”

Temar leaves the room before you even finish speaking.

/

Temar braces himself before he goes back in the main room, his forehead pressed against the solid wood of his walls.

He’s hoping he’s gotten used to your scent, built up a tolerance, but knows it’ll only have gotten stronger for each moment you’ve been here. Gods know he’s only become more susceptible to it. How anyone in all his life has such a bewitching scent, he’ll never know.

The second he’d opened his front door, he’d wanted to drag you inside and never let you out. The beast inside instantly proclaiming Mine. Only mine. He’d barely heard anything Anton said over the roaring in his ears. The slam of his door had been as much panic defensiveness as it had been frustrated aggression.

The line between those two does seem to blur most during heat.

You stayed out there, looking so lost and somber on the porch, lip caught between your teeth as you thought. He’d had to get you to stop before he took over the task for you. An early sign of heat madness surely because of fucking course it was far worse having you in his home. Where his beast said you belonged. Where you could say all the words he was salivating to hear as truth even though he knew them to be false.

Those council assholes would pay for putting him through this torture. Temar knew he was a werebeast and yet this was inhumane even for his kind. He tried to find a proper target for his aggression, but you’d given him nothing to work with, persistent in your tale. As if a kind, quick-witted, pretty thing like you would ever subject yourself to a beast like him unless you felt you had no other option.

Distractions haven’t been helping, trying to keep his eyes off you was impossible to sustain, and stonewalling didn’t ever seem to deter you for long. It’s as if you were perfectly designed to get past all of his defenses. There are still so many hours until sunrise—if Temar’s even going to last that long, even be able to let you go at that point. After you’d seeped into his home, his life. You seem to fit so well.

You play at being kind like a master actor and he hopes that’s not all a front. You’re smart, independent, but oh so willing to help. Duress, he reminds himself, you’re here under duress. The fuckers in town must have forced you here somehow. He can’t believe how low they’ve stooped, taking advantage of your lack of family, of your infertility to make you into a sacrifice. The perfect sacrifice.

His beast still wants to try to breed you, undeterred by logic, but it’s his human head that’s unfairly tempted by the knowledge. When he’s in his rational mind, he stands by what he said. The risk of children, others with his condition, his ostracization from society is something he’d never condemn an innocent soul to suffer. Not mention he likes his solitude, likes only being responsible for himself and only answerable to himself. It’s why the council involving itself is so frustrating. Its why the idea you might be here of your own free will is so appealing. Lack of such a child-bearing risk is even more appealing, more alluring than he’d ever realized it would be. Than it had any right to be. Why are you so damn perfect for him?

Clearly distance was not helping. Perhaps it was even making his beast stronger, without you to look at him and, for all your knowledge of his nature, expect a rationale man to look back.

Temar walks back into the main room, feeling like a man condemned, only to immediately regret his choice as he rigidly locks every muscle he can to prevent his beast from pouncing. He’d thought you’d stopped trying to seduce him with your faux willingness and pretty eyes. Your soft, steady kindness…

Even he’d admitted to himself once alone that you likely hadn’t meant anything by hovering so close, by trying to steady yourself on him. Your fall onto the table, not to mention the complete startlement on your face from his reaction. But what the fuck is this?

“What are you doing?” he asks through clenched teeth, hoping the beast inside isn’t giving away the feral lust coursing through his veins.

“What?” You look up, surprised he’s back, but there’s no embarrassment in your face. If anything, your expression smooths back to usual faster than he feels it has a right to. “Oh, I hadn’t realized how wet my apron had gotten from the dishes, sorry about the wasted water.”

“Why have you removed it?” Temar’s voice was strangled as the words passed through his lips. Ordinarily, he knows it would barely register with him, but you removing any article of clothing has his beast pulling at the chains he’s trying to use to keep it inside where it belongs.

“Well, I didn’t know how else to dry off,” you reply, brow furrowing in confusion as you dab at yourself with part of the folded-up apron. Temar can see the damp stains where the water had soaked through the light green fabric underneath. “Besides, I don’t want to catch anything, sitting around in wet clothes. It’ll be dry by morning if I leave it by the fire.”

Temar’s mind is already overrun by the reminder he’d invited you, like the numbskull he is, to stay the night. You’re unlikely to sleep fully dressed. You’ll take more than just your apron off in his home. You’ll strip down to your chemise. He can see the edges of it under your dress—white cotton poking out. Nothing more under that except soft skin—skin he isn’t allowed to touch.

Temar tries to combat the pleasing images of you splayed naked in his bed with images of your bruised and bloody from his claws, his strength, his carelessness. They’re impossible to sustain with you so hale and unbothered in front of him. The comfort of his den discourages such violence from his thoughts, his heat poisoning his mind against him. You aren’t here by choice, he reminds himself.

It’s hard to believe when you cross his room with self-assured confidence, bending down to arrange your apron by his fire, acting as if you’ve no fears to worry you. Your hair is ruffled from either the dishes or taking off your apron and you pat at it absentmindedly. Temar wants it spread across his sheets, his pillow, mussed and messed by his hands while he claims you for himself. The town clearly doesn’t appreciate you, doesn’t value you what they have. He’d treat you right. He’d make sure you loved being his.

With a shake of his head, he blinks and the image before him resolves to you seated on a chair, delicately rebraiding your hair. He can’t keep his eyes off the swift movements of your fingers. Temar imagines what it would feel like if you did the same to him, this simple careful, everyday task. You look up at him from under your full eyelashes, looking perfectly innocent and not a creature pulled from his greatest nightmares and most sincere dreams. “So do you have a plan for managing however many days are left? Have you gone into heat in previous years? How did you manage then?”

The flush that blooms on your face is endearing and attractive. Temar wants desperately to know what you’re thinking when you say ‘heat’. You’ve avoided saying the word nearly the entire time you’ve been heard. Temar knows the rumors that fly about the human population about werebeasts, about heats, he’s overheard it all. From eating human mates to potent fertility and everything in between. Which ones have you heard? Which do you believe in? Likely none of the violent ones or you’d find the prospect far more intimidating than whatever bullshit the council is using to coerce you.

“Temar?”

“You’re right, I’ve already managed to work out a solution on my own, making you presence doubly wasteful.” You flinch at his words and every instinct screams at him to sooth you, to take it back—whatever is needed to make his mate stay. Temar turns rather than continue to watch your reactions to his harsh words. Despite knowing its necessary, it hurts to see your hurt and only encourages the beast to want to soothe, to steal your mind from any hurt by drowning it out with lust and heat. “Follow me.”

“You’ll sleep here,” Temar points out, continuing to refuse to look back at you or his bed for that matter.

His control would surely shatter if he saw you so close to it. He imagines how easily he could push you down on the furs and sheets until he had you spread out like a feast for him and him alone. How he would savor you. How he wouldn’t let you up until he was more than satisfied. A glutton of lust.

The cold metal of the door knob jolts him out of his thoughts. “I’ll be out back.” The crisp air, the brisk breeze, blow your scent from Temar and clear his head. He nearly sighs with relief as he walks off to the right, purpose in his steps, a reminder of his duty as he follows the familiar path.

“Here.” Its clear no matter where you thought he was leading you “pit” was not on the list. Your eyebrows lift nearly to your hairline as you stare down, allowing him precious seconds to gaze at you without a mask of stoicism or frustration, only naked hunger.

“You asked where I weathered heats of the past?” Temar neglects to mention that the first couple years in town rendered his heats short and taxing. Just a handful of nights around the late summer full moon, when the first chill to the air heralding the coming winter. Between his beast’s discomfort with new territory and his own war memories haunting him, his heats were not a concern. It’s only last year that his heat was how it used to be in his youth.

Wild. Hungry. Enduring.

This year is worst yet, not only because of the tight grip it has on him and how he can tell, despite more than a week in, that he has days to go, but also due circumstances outside of his control.

You’re smart enough to spot it. “Did something happen to this…?”

Temar puts you out of your awkward misery. “There was a flood after that storm a couple weeks ago. It dislodged that tree and a wall collapsed.” He’d hoped his heat wouldn’t return with the vengeance it did and so had put off excavating. “In the end, the den took longer than I thought to rebuild, to dig deep enough again. Still not sure I have,” he confesses when you look at him with such open, receptive eyes.

You frown and squint down at the den and Temar doesn’t like the reminder of how dark it’s getting. This entire evening has been a distraction, from the knock on his door, to the meal, to now. He ought not neglect the den any longer, not let his beast draw this out until it can overpower his conscience.

He puts down the ladder, hands grateful for something to do besides itch to settle on your hips. “I’ll be needing to get everything out of here, before the moon finishes rising.” Temar descends as quickly as he can, jumping the last few feet and turning to survey the den.

It was nicer before, he thinks with some dismay, some shame at you seeing such a bare hole in the ground. It’s primarily filled with tools for digging and fortifying, none of the minimal furs and blankets that should be givens for a den. The roof had been damaged when the tree fell in so he hopes it doesn’t rain. Temar resigns himself to waking up covered in dew. It’ll still be better than waking up covered in blood, even after verifying it was all from livestock.

“Temar?” His name on your lips draws his attention back up, like a flower to the sun, like a fish to water, like blood to a bear.

“Can I help you clear it out?” Temar just stares at you, part of his mind still surprised you’re here. Still here. Still offering to help. Help him. You cross your arms again and Temar wishes it didn’t look so good on you, the way it pushes up your chest, makes your arm muscles more prominent. What sort of shop did you say you had again? “Look, I’m another pair of hands, ain’t I?”

“Technically,” he allows, speaking without thinking. All his thought concentrated on your form above him, ripe for the plucking.

You seem to take that as permission and start climbing down the ladder. Temar turns so quickly to avert his eyes from your ass that he forgets to forbid you from coming down. You touch down lightly and Temar reluctantly faces you again, a puppet on the strings of his inner beast, to soak in the sight of you in its den.

The cabin belongs to Temar, the man. The den belongs to Temar, the beast.

Something of that must come across on his face as you pause, one hand on the ladder. “Does it break a rule, for me to be down here?”

A den is a personal, sacred space, with only those closest allowed entry. The beast does not allow you to lie. “No.” A prospective mate is more than a natural allowance. It’s expected.

You nod with satisfaction. The beast preens in approval at your persistence, at your ease in its den. “Then I’m helping. What’s next?”

Wordlessly, you point to the table with the hand tools.

“All of these?” you ask, even as you begin to gather them.

Temar turns away, unable to watch you ascend, and focuses on the final wheelbarrow he needs to move out, the planks he’s using as ramps he’ll need to remove. “Gotta get everything out of here so it don’t get broken.” Also so he can’t use it to escape. When he’s more beast than person, the use of tools doesn’t come naturally, but he’s relentless. Safer to keep them out of reach. That’s the real challenge—keep himself out of reach.

“Right.” There’s a pause while you move around behind him. Temar tries to focus on the feeling of the smooth wood of the wheelbarrow handles, the shudder of the wooden planks below as he moves it out of the den. “How come the walls are like this?”

You must be gesturing to the flat stones embedded in the dirt walls. “Harder to climb, although I haven’t had time to finish the back wall that collapsed yet. Claws don’t do well on smooth stone. A lot if the grout needs to be redone. Something for tomorrow.”

“Smart,” you say, sounding impressed.

Temar grunts in response, trying to focus on pulling the crude ramp out of the den and not on puffing up at your approval. Not seeing how else he might earn your esteem, might otherwise impress you.

“What’s it like,” you ask, quietly but clearly. Temar had been wondering if you’d ask. Waiting. “When…”

You trail off so he’s not sure if you meaning being a werebear or being one in heat. He supposes the answer isn’t terribly different. “Simpler, harsher, more vivid,” he says, “Less control when in heat than the rest of the time. In the army, we were trained to control the transformation, taught how to keep our minds more intact—it doesn’t work like that for heat. Getting locked up is how it was dealt with even there.” Not that they lasted long back then for anyone.

“I’ve heard of the loss of control.” You don’t specify if you mean in general or in heat, but Temar supposes it doesn’t matter either way.

Perhaps this would be a good time to remind both of you what’s at stake, how dangerous Temar is in heat to anyone vulnerable around him. “Just a beast at that point.” Temar doesn’t look you in the eye as he keeps talking, heading back down into the den now the planks are out and it’s the only way down. “Can’t understand human speech. Can barely tell human from animal. No reasoning with me. I’ll do what I want when I want to. Damn anyone else.”

Not that you’re as intimidated as he wishes you were. “What about other weres?”

“Aye.” Temar doesn’t mind confirming that, not when he knows it can’t encourage you. “Thats a mite different. We can handle each other better, can find that sliver of common ground. Family can calm you, your own territory, and of course, if you’ve got everything you want, you won’t go roaming for it. Won’t get angry and frustrated you can’t find it.”

“That all the time, or just in heat?” He can still hear the shyness in your voice whenever you say heat, but its obvious your curiosity is too great. Temar surveys the den while he considers his answer, hands you left over plates and cutlery from his noontime meal, eaten down in the den while he worked furiously to get it ready for tonight. He’s careful not to let his fingers brush yours, not to look you in the face, lest he see some fear there that hadn’t been before. Lest the beast see a lack of such fear. Temar truly felt caught between a rock and hard place.

He can see the question you’re dancing around and cuts to the quick, praying you’ll be sensible and leave since he wouldn’t be able to make you anymore. He’s not sure he even could back on the porch. “Its dangerous for any human to lay with a werebeast. Injury from strength or claws or teeth is impossible to prevent. Even if you’re mates.” He reminds himself as ruthlessly as tells you. It was rare, but it happened. Heartbreaking accidents. “Even if you’ve known each other for years. Someone in my troop had killed their husband in a heat frenzy once.”

“Not always though,” you reply, too hopeful by far, too logical not to notice the exaggeration. “It can’t be or weres would have died out.”

“No, not always,” Temar allows. “The tendency towards multiple children in a litter helps. But usually longer held relationships fare better. If the were isn’t in a bad mood, isn’t stressed—if the partner cooperates right.”

He hands you the last item that needs out and once you get to the top, he says, “Pull up that ladder, now.”

You pause, standing stock still and for a second he wonders if you’ll even listen. Temar’s not sure he has the strength to ask a second time.

“Sure.” You pull up the ladder.

His human mind eases at that, at the sight of you more than seven feet overhead, out of reach. His beast disagrees, seething in displeasure and unfulfilled lust. Naturally, you can’t leave well enough alone and sit down, legs dangling into the den. He knows he could grab your ankle at this, yank you down and—

Temar turns to study the den once more. It won’t stick in his mind with you clouding his judgment the way you are. He narrows his eyes, forcing himself to assess if its deep enough, the walls defended enough. “I still need to get the cover fixed, if that damn blacksmith ever manages to be around when I stop by. The back wall needs to be stoned, but if I try to climb it like it is, it’s just as likely to crumble which’ll keep me in just the same. It’ll do. It had better more than satisfy those bastards on the council.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose it will.” You shrug, as if you’d forgotten about them. “Will you let me visit? After I leave in the morning—” you add swiftly as if to cut off a correction Temar for once wasn’t offering. “In case there’s anything else I can help with? I meant it when I said we could help each other out. I admit I do not relish the chore of fetching all fuel for my fire in these coming months and perhaps I can provide something for you? I’m a skilled weaver in addition to my work with dyes. If you would not be opposed?”

How can you forget the council so easily? Dismiss them offhand like that. Why do you speak of ‘after’ so lightly? As if you expect to see him again, as if that’s something you might want. Temar’s thoughts turn in circles once more over your duress. He must remember you cannot be here by choice. It’s getting harder by the minute. By each minute you sit on the edge of his den, not a care in the world. Not a notion of his steadily deteriorating self-control. His lack of giving any indication of his growing need has gone from helpful to sinister, a wolf in sheep’s clothing no longer trying to reassure, but to lure closer its prey.

“Perhaps,” he manages to say.

You continue to talk, but the words’ meaning slip through his fingers. The change is pushing itself on him while he wiles away a few more minutes in your presence. Just to try to burn off excess energy, Temar turns to push one of the stones in better, to align it flat with the rest of them. Except… he can feel your eyes on his back while he does so.

Your scent to spikes.

He wheels around, wildly, and belated realizes the height you’re at, brings your loins far more to a height with his nose than ever before. Did his display of strength inspire something of lust in you? His beast roars for you once more at this indication of receptiveness.

The moonlight colors your hair, emphasizing your etherealness, the wonder at your very presence. How much Temar wants to hold you in his hands, claim you for his own. How much he wants to bring you down to earth, push you under him and take his pleasure from you.

He takes a step closer and it feels like the first sprung leak in a dam. The first domino to fall. The spark of fire on dry, dry tinder.

“R-un.”

In retrospect perhaps the most provocative thing Temar could have done was instigate a chase. Actually, the most provocative was definitely you listening and running.

You pull your legs up swiftly, battling your skirts to get your feet under yourself with a haste that surprises even yourself. Only one word and a glimpse of those glowing eyes, and you’re dashing for the cabin. Adrenaline pours into your veins as you the image of the fur rippling out over Temar’s body as he gave that last command fills your mind. 

In retrospect, the fur had been spreading steadily since you’d taken away the ladder without you fully registering it. His voice had been changing, although that you’d noticed plenty. The lower tone was a little harder to make out, even more pleasant to listen to, stirring up those lascivious thoughts that hadn’t left your mind since the town meeting was called. You swear his muscles had swelled too. The way they had moved beneath his shirt, which fit tighter with each minute that had passed. You’d felt spellbound, even though you swear that’s not a rumor associated with weres, and unconcerned by said compulsion.

Given the seriousness with which Temar gave the order as well as his earlier apprehension, you feel guilty for the mad sort of excitement rather than fear that courses through you. A roar, harsh and throaty, comes from the den behind you. It's one of rage and frustration. A beast that’s just realized it's been trapped. That it can’t get to what it wants. A loud thud follows. A growl of continued frustration hurries you on, feet pounding the ground as you run. You can almost trick yourself into thinking you hear your own name mixed in with the next roar that comes from where you’ve left Temar behind.

Due to your haste and unfamiliarity with Temar’s land and the fallen gloom, you end up missing the door along the back of the cabin and re-enter through the front. You lock that door with shaking hands and a pounding heart. The sounds of nature, of wind, of the echoes of Temar’s growl, are replaced by quiet solitude and the crackle of the fire, still burning in the hearth. You attempt to catch your breath. You try to let the mundane familiarity of the cabin and the silence calm your nerves. It’s not working very well.

You’re not sure what prompted his yell or his roar. Temar had said if he had everything he needed, he wouldn’t want to go searching for it, so it must have been his inner beast’s continued frustration at the lack of a desirable mate, which you continue to attempt not to take personally.

You’re still keyed up from the experience and seeing him actually start to transform, which still held some magic to you having never witnessed such a thing before, as well as all your interactions with him this evening. Temar seemed somewhat open to the idea of being friends, which was nice, you remind yourself. He is still immensely fascinating to you—this night has only made that more apparent. He feels less onerous to be around than some of your other acquaintances. He doesn’t put up any fronts and you feel like you don’t have to either. Even when he was clearly frustrated or angry—which you believe is exacerbated by whatever physical and mental toll his heat is putting on him—he never raised his voice. Temar only ever physically moved away from you, not towards you. 

Speaking of physicality, he was so strong. The way he moved, carried, and shoved the tools out of his den had been impressive. The skill and strength it must have taken to make it in the first place, from the manual labor of digging it out, to stonework, to the manner of transportation in and out were all impressive. You’ll have to make sure to stop by Nicolas’ forge tomorrow to ensure Temar can get his roof fixed. But for now, your mind’s eye lingers on how his muscles had flexed, how easily he might be able to move you about, lifting you, arranging you to best please him.

You shake your head to try to rid yourself of such thoughts when none of them are going to come true. Temar is the one who’s having a hard time, not you here in his home. He hadn’t complained about the den, but you can tell it must be a far cry from what it was before the damage, it saddens you to think of him out there and alone. You long to comfort him, even though you know he doesn’t want your comfort. His roar had only proven his frustration and unhappiness, how unfulfilled he must be, stuck in the pit. You swear you can still hear yet another roar mixed with your name. 

You take another look around the room and sigh, finding it far less interesting without him present. You’re still wound up from today’s jostling ship ride of events. Your hormones are out of balance after plans and hopes of helping Temar through his heat. While ending your night alone in Temar’s cabin, in his bed, while he’s stuck out in a hole in the ground isn’t where you expected or how you wanted the night to end, you suppose it's better than him still out in the woods where he might cause more damage or hurt someone.

Your hands go to your buttons as you start to undo them. An early night is in order. Just because Temar doesn’t want you, doesn’t mean you have to go unsatisfied. Your outer clothing drops to the floor, leaving you in your underthings. Draping the cloth over the couch, you wonder if he might be able to smell what you get up to in the morning. Would it be cruel to leave such a trace behind? you wonder as you slip over to the bedroom door. Or would it be your due after his refusal?

Something to worry about in the morning. You’re too hot and bothered to care much now. You turn the knob and enter the dark room. Your eyes just barely adjust enough to make out the outline of his large bed of furs when you’re pushed back against the door, slamming it shut. 

An almost subsonic growl fills the small room as you look up and up to meet glowing yellow-green eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, even faster than it had when you’d been running only a few moments ago. A cloud moves from in front of the full moon and the beast that Temar must be now looms over you.

Heavy hands—or are they paws now?—pin you to the wall, one spread over your sternum and the other engulfing your hip. Your hands reflexively reach out and curl around his arm, fingers sinking into dense, soft fur. With the hand pressing against your chest, you barely manage to make a sound more than a surprised inhale, anything else compressed by Temar’s savage strength and your own shock. 

Fight or flight seems to have tried to kick in only to unexpectedly leave you both at ‘freeze’ while you stare one another down. The moonlight illuminates his face, throwing into relief the complex mix of man and beast Temar now is. The same black salted with gray that had been evident in his beard is now more evident in the thin layer of fur covering his face. His jaw is larger to accommodate the sharp teeth and prominent fangs now present. His mouth is open as he pants and huffs, eyes fixated on you. You can still see the man in the beast, but he’s more than he was only moments ago.

You hold perfectly still as Temar leans down and starts to huff and sniff at your neck, shifting his fingers as he does so. You can feel his claws snag in the looser weave of your chemise as he does so. Has he always smelled like the forest? you think in a shocked haze, like the pine trees and the freshly turned earth with an undercurrent of musk. He growls into your neck while you stay pinned like an insect on a card, unable to do anything else when confronted by the reality of his transformed appearance, of his touch when he had recoiled from you so vehemently before.

You jolt when he manages to do more than growl, when you realize it isn’t your imagination that puts your name on his lips. Heat sears through you to hear the need in his voice, the demand, by the idea that you’ve managed to make such an impression on him that he managed to speak at all. Then those lips cover your own in an uncoordinated but wanting kiss. Instantly, your mind is wiped clean of rejection, and disinterest, and undesirability. Those ideas can’t exist in tandem when he kisses you like he’s starving. 

When you break apart, you breathlessly gasp out his name, a hand cupping his jaw. You suck in shallow breaths, as if you only just stopped running, as if he’d been chasing you since he’d told you to run. You tremble with shameless lust at being sought after specifically—he hadn’t just been demanding after vague wants but for you.

He manages your name once more, tongue and jaw and teeth making the word hard to understand except that all your senses are straining for him, desperate for anything to help you understand him, to understand this change. “Mate.” 

You don’t know if it's a question or not, but it's all you’ve been offering since you first showed up on his doorstep. “Yes,” you reply breathlessly, suddenly more desperate than ever in his hold. Desire burns through you for him. You tug futilely at his jaw, push desperately against the massive paw on your chest to reach him. “Temar. Mate.”

You don’t fool yourself into thinking your strength is what moves him, but perhaps your words do manage to penetrate his mind because he presses his lips to yours once more, immediately deepening the kiss. He fucks into your mouth with filthy promise. Your head is held between the door at your back and him, hot and massive, crowding you, boxing you in, cutting off any escape. Escape is the absolute furthest thing from your mind.

His grip on you strengthens, the hand on your sternum moving to bracket your neck. His thumb rests lightly against the column of your throat, the claw drawing a line of danger on your collarbone. His fingers hooked over your back, their claws digging into the meat of your shoulder. They haven’t broken your skin but you know they could, the sting of them makes you want to arch both away and into them. 

You tremble as you realize how securely and sinfully caught you are by this werebear, by Temar. You know that he could hold onto you like this for hours and nothing you could do would be able to force him to let go. You never want him to. Instead you melt in his hold. His hand pinning you by your hip is likely the only thing keeping you on your feet and not just a pool of lust at his.

His need is evident given the way his hips rock against your own. The press of him against your whole body is unlocking some hidden need in you and you attempt to push back, to rut against him in return. You feel desperation growing in your bones, in the heart of you, something wild and wanting that can only be sated by him. Temar rumbles his approval, moving more deliberately against you until a growl of frustration escapes him.

When he pulls back, readjusting his hold on you, you open your mouth to protest, to say something, anything to get him back. It’s reflexive after how this night has gone, but unnecessary now. Temar picks you up with no apparent effort, only impatience, and tosses you onto the bed. 

You land with an oof, scrambling to think around the rolling heat that moves through your body threatening to drown you at such a display. You’ve barely made any sense of yourself after being flung through the darkness when he’s dropped low and moved on top of you. His movements are strong and decisive as he pushes your chemise up. He noses his way between your thighs, spreading them apart to make room for him. You barely have time to consider being embarrassed about being exposed, at how wet you know you are, when his wide tongue, inhuman roughness obvious, covers your cunt.

Your yelp of surprise turns into a long drawn out moan as he licks at you, vigorously, hungrily. He places a massive hand on each of your thighs, claws stinging just enough to quicken the pulsing need between your legs. You twitch and shiver as he pushes your legs further apart to accommodate his bulk. Your heated skin finds the remaining fabric bunched around your waist too much and you hastily try to shuck it the rest of the way off as fast as you. It's the most uncoordinated you’ve ever felt due to the manner in which Temar is concentrating on sucking your mind out of your head via your cunt.

Free at last of the uncomfortable and restricting garment, you reach down, fingers threading into Temar’s wild mane of hair on instinct alone. You don’t kow if you’ve even stopped moaning since his tongue attached itself to your cunt. Simultaneously, it's too much and not enough and all you can do is try to hang on for the ride he’s determined to take you on. Sweeping you down into the heat of feral lust with him. 

One of his hands leaves your thigh to clamp down across your stomach and hold down your hips. Your fingers tighten as he holds you in place to take what he wants from you. His unwavering focus is on eating you out, so starving for you that for now even the beast is content with your taste, leaving his hips rutting against the bedding. 

Temar wrings sounds from you know you’ve never made before. You never want anyone else to even try. Fuck, so good, you think. Or maybe you say aloud because you swear he grunts his approval and his tongue somehow manages to reach deeper. 

The black pad of his thumb rubs your clit perfectly and you scream you shatter. He growls triumphantly as he greedily drinks down every last drop of your release

You feel unspooled and languid, molten in your pleasure. Temar too seems satisfied with the meal he’s made of you for now as he pulls back, licking his lips. His fingers tighten their hold on your hips as your only warning before he flips you over. Dazedly, automatically, you try to brace yourself. He grunts in approval at how he has successfully maneuvered you onto your hands and knees. Right where you wanted to be ever since you first understood that he was in heat without a lover. Since you realized you wanted to be that lover.

One of his hands leaves your hip to stroke up your spine and you shudder at the feeling of calluses, iron strength, and claws. Instinctively, you arch into the motion, wanting to encourage him to touch you as much as possible. You’re so grateful you’ve already tossed your chemise gods know where. “Please,” you gasp out.

He rumbles with approval and as if having heard your unarticulated thoughts, drapes himself further over you. He pulls you against the cradle of his hips with one firm motion eliciting a squeal from your lips. It's evidently not close enough, as he wraps his fingers around your shoulder and pulls again until he can rut his cock against where you feel oh so empty. 

With you where he wants you, Temar releases his hold on your shoulder to lurch you both forward, him bracing you both with that hand on the bed. It leaves you clearly trapped under him. You close your eyes to savor the position and you’re struck by the image you two would paint, were you able to see. Perhaps that should be more intimidating or even frightening than it is, but you like the heavy weight of him, the power evident in his body as he cages you in. 

The ache between your legs only grows more acute. “Temar,” you plead, attempting to move your hips against him despite the hold he still has on one of your hips. The gnawing hunger and persistent emptiness are starting to hurt, desire buzzing along your every nerve. 

“Mine,” Temar proclaims as the head of his cock finally catches perfectly and he starts to drive into you. The stretch and ache of him causes your moan to fracture under the strain. It’s been so long, but you're so wet it almost doesn’t matter. He’s so thick, so long, you’re losing all sense of anything outside of where the two of you are joined. The last few inches cause a pleasurable burn as you clench around him. Gods it's been too long since you were filled like this, if you’ve ever even had someone with his girth before. 

Temar growls contentedly once he’s fully seated inside you and you gladly take the precious few seconds to adjust. Soon enough, he pulls nearly all the way out of you causing a desperate whine to build up in the back of your throat until he thrusts back in, ripping a ragged sound from your throat that might resemble his name. 

He picks up speed with each movement of his hips, getting surer and stronger each time. You feel your whole body move and jolt with his each and every thrust. Your hands scrabble fruitlessly at the bedding under you, trying to brace yourself or get a grip but you can’t, uncoordinated and weak from your previous orgasm as well as the overwhelming way Temar is fucking you. 

He’s going to ruin you and you’re going to thank him.

His control seems to be fraying the longer he’s inside you. You can see the claws tipping his fingers get longer where they dig into the bedding and you can feel the way they dig into your hip. The pain is the perfect counterpoint to the pleasure of him finally hitting that perfect spot inside. You can feel your inner walls flutter from the sensation. Temar must like that because he groans and makes a noticeable effort to strike that same spot repeatedly.

The unrelenting attention pays off immediately as you can feel your need wind tighter and tighter while your mind empties of thought except for the sensation and heat Temar is bringing forth from the depths you. The continual barrage of his cock finally shoves you over the edge of pleasure once more and you obligingly shatter.

He groans as your clenching around him seems to be all he needs to let go. He hilts in you one last time and you feel him come hard. He fills you up with his seed, warmth spreading, and continuing to make little half thrusts, as if trying to make sure it stays deep within you. You’re still coming down from your orgasm but the sense of satisfaction expands in your chest now that Temar’s reached his peak too.

You close your eyes, limp underneath him, but more content than you’ve felt in ages, in perfect harmony with your werebeast mate.

At some point, you feel him tip you both over onto your sides, though he keeps his cock firmly seated within your heat, keeping you full. Temar’s rumble is full of satisfaction and he engulfs you in his hold, making it clear neither of you are separating anytime soon.

You don’t know how long you lay there on your side, blissfully fuck out, still full of him. You don’t care. You enjoy floating in the hazy afterglow. Eventually he slips out of you, pulling a gasp from you and a whine from him. He nuzzles against you, as if to comfort you. You’re too boneless and witless to do anything more than nuzzle him back. 

At some point you do notice him start to move against you once more. His large hands are running along your body, as if committing it to memory. It’s not until he starts to focus on your nipples, rubbing his thumb in increasingly tight circles. Desire starts to zip through your sluggish veins and you whine, twitching in his loose hold. He seems to appreciate your reaction, nudging your head with his until you turn it to face him better. He catches your mouth in a consuming kiss, more coordinating than any previously but just as hungry. It's deep and filthy and leaves you vibrating for me.

His hand covers your cunt, still swollen and wet from your combined cum, in addition to the desire within you he’s stroking back up into a blaze.  Your sensitivity causes your hips to stutter as you’re caught between wanting more and being too tender for it. He loses interest in using his hand once you’re pushing towards him more than you are moving away. Pulling you down his body once more, his fur causing goosebumps to ripple across your flesh until you’re back where Temar at least seems to think you belong: in the cradle of his hips.

“Oh! Temar, you—mm, o-oh,” you attempt to say something to address the reignition of his desire, but before you can, his stiffening cock has managed to press against your cunt just right, moving through your lingering wetness and the spend that’s leaked out of you since said cock last left you.

“Mate,” he intones, lust certainly back into his voice. He pulls you up off the bed, securing you to his chest with the hand still clutching your chest. You’re not sure his other hand he's left your hip since it settled there. “More.”

“I, yes,” you reply, trying to pull yourself back together. Of course while in heat, he’d want to—you cut your own thoughts off with a surprised moan as he pushes back into you. Your fingers clench in the sheets as your sore, but slick muscles allow him back inside. The overstimulation is giving your head a rush. 

Luckily, this time Temar seems more deliberate and rhythmic with his thrusting rather than frenzied and desperate. His other hand resumes kneading your chest and rubbing against your stiffened nipple. The change in angle seems to keep him from going too fast and luckily requires none of your strength. In fact, the sensation of him fucking you while you lay limp in his grasp is quickly bring your own lust back at a dizzying pace you don’t expect.

He shifts and the angle gets even better, causing you to moan loudly in encouragement. You sag against him, your bones feel liquid from the way he’s been relentlessly thrusting within your cunt. His grunts and your pants fill the room. You’re still so hot, with sweat rolling down your back only to be absorbed into his fur. The sensation ensures you never forget who and what is taking you. You glory in it, in knowing he chose you.

You feel like he’s determined to fuck you until you can’t see straight, can’t move and you’re beyond willing for him to try. 

Gods, he’s going to make you forget your own name.

Something curls deep in you, winding around itself with each passing second he continues moving within you. He hunches forward, just enough to press against you, to change the angle some minuscule amount, and that spring releases. You fracture around him. As before, that appears to be all he needs to push as deep as he can and spill his seed in you one more time. The sensation of his release, of the desperate way he continues to try to fill you are the last things you remember before the pleasure pulls you under.

-/-

In the morning, or given the angle of the sun, the afternoon when you wake after a sleep longer than an hour, Temar surrounds you still. You’re in no rush as you take the time to regain your bearings and take stock of your aches. Without opening your eyes you can tell he’s looking at you. “Regret?” you ask simply, stock still in his hold, voice scratchy from overuse. You lost count of how many times aTemar fucked you last night. It's all a blur of heat and desire.

“No,” Temar rumbles, adjusting his hold. “Mine.” The added growl behind the words even in his human form sends a shiver down your spine and reignites the ache in your muscles in the most pleasing manner. 

It's more than you were hoping for, and yet you can’t help but ask, cautiously, “For the rest of your heat?” Some small part of you is still expecting to be sent on your way far sooner than you’d like to be. 

“I suppose you’ve convinced me,” Temar replies, the amusement in his voice unable to stay hidden under his put upon reluctance. “If you’ve made this foolish choice, I suppose I’ll let it stand—for now.”

“You may be stubborn, but I think we can agree I won this battle,” you point out. You finally blink your eyes open for long enough to look over your shoulder and meet his brown ones. He looks indulgent when you cup his cheek. “What makes you think you’ll fare better in the next one? I’m not sure I want for this to end with your heat.”

“I thought you’d say something of the sort,” Temar replies with a roll of eyes. He nips at your ear and pats you on the hip. “We can discuss after your bath.”

You hum, pleased immensely by the prospect. “See? Perhaps it’s you who is mine after all.”

---

Extra thanks to everyone who followed along with the original posting! all your comments and tags and asks were super encouraging!!

[irisintheafterglow]

...said you like my eyes (and you like to make 'em roll)

summary: you marry hoshina soshiro. it's just a business deal...right?

wc: 1.2k

cw/tags: implied fem!reader, explicit language, marriage of convenience, childhood friends to rivals to lovers, pining but he's SO mad about it, tension breaking and a lil steamy towards the end (but nothing explicit), intentional lowercase (i didn't mean for it to be this long but here we are)

note: hello iris nation today i offer you hoshina brain rot because this bowl cut bastard has been nothing but the forefront of my mind for the past week. hope you enjoy LOL

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

"oi." a small bubble mailer is unceremoniously tossed onto your desk and you don't bother looking up at who threw it. "wear that."

"hello to you too, vice-captain. what a lovely day it is!" you remark without pulling your pen from the document you were signing, your voice mockingly sweet. he can't stand you. "oh, i'm doing well," you continue with the imagined conversation, "just doing paperwork and wondering what my wonderful fake husband is up to."

"careful how loud you say that," he warns through gritted teeth, "or you put both of our jobs in jeopardy."

"i'm aware, hoshina." you sigh, finally looking up from your paperwork at the package in front of you. "trust me, i'm not trying to mess this thing up just as much as you are," you reassure him before dropping your voice to a nearly imperceptible volume. "as difficult as you make it, sometimes." you catch the muscle in his jaw clench and smile inwardly at your victory in making him tick.

"just open that and put it on. i have work to do." you frown, gesturing at the stack of papers that appeared on your desk that morning and were nowhere close to being finished.

"and you don't think i don't?"

"open the damn package."

"what do you say first?" you smile at him condescendingly and watch his frown become deeper. rolling his eyes, he pushes the mailer closer to you before muttering a quiet, "please." you reluctantly open the package, dropping the small gold circle inside into your palm. it's a testament to your working and romantic relationship with hoshina that your first reaction is to snort. "what the hell is this?"

"we're married, aren't we?" he scowls, annoyance overtaking his typically-amused face. "might as well look the part."

"how thoughtful of you," you say with no inkling of gratitude, slipping the ring into its proper spot on your left hand. "huh. perfect fit."

"that's a surprise," he mutters and you narrow your eyes, suspicious of what he meant by that. "i mean that i bought it off a discount site, not that i thought the ring wouldn't fit on your finger or something," he quickly corrects, his unhappiness and irritation clear.

"you got me a wedding ring off a discount site?" you bark out a laugh and admire the shining band in the light. "is this even real gold or is it painted plastic?"

"don't know. didn't bother looking," he mumbles and you gape at him and his pure level of indifference. "just wear that so no one gets suspicious about us."

"what about you?" he fishes under the collar of his suit to reveal a similar ring dangling at the end of a small chain. "aw, maybe you can give that one to your real wife one day. maybe she'll be stupid enough to believe it's real." he scoffs, turning to leave.

"i don't need another wife; i already have my hands full with you."

---

"they won't think twice if it's us marrying each other. not when they look at both of our histories," he explained to you on an off-base excursion, away from prying eyes and recording cameras.

"what's in it for you?" you take another sip from your drink, something you forced hoshina to buy for you for making you travel so far off base. it was like you were kids again, sparring with tree branches in the afternoon and spending all your money on sugary drinks. "isn't it bad to be making attachments, especially ones in the defense force itself?" he shrugs, calmer than you'd ever seen him since you were transferred to the third division. you remember the first time he saw you on base, immediately ordering you to run laps for some made-up reason. so much for childhood best friends turning into kaiju-fighting partners, you thought to yourself.

"people will stop asking me to use my benefits on them, for one," he says. "it'll also stop the brass from bothering me about next-of-kin type stuff."

"oh, so you want me to deal with the repercussions if you die? how thoughtful," you deadpan. "and in exchange, i get more benefits too?" he nods, refusing to look at you. come to think of it, you'd only faced him head on when you first arrived on base. shaking your head, you ask hoshina a question that'd been lingering your mind since you first saw him after he left to join the defense force. "why is this the most you've spoken to me since i transferred? what happened to growing up together and joining and-"

"questions like that have no place in this arrangement," he cuts in, a shadow casting over his eyes that you couldn't read. "so don't ask them." you huff through your nose before deciding not to press the subject further.

"strictly transactional, right?" you murmur, the barest hint of sadness detectable in your voice.

"strictly transactional," he affirms.

---

"mmm, now what happened to 'this is strictly transactional,' husband?" you smirk against his lips, his hands desperately roaming anywhere he can reach on your body.

"shut the hell up." after months of avoiding you and willing the ache in his lungs to subside, something in him had begun to bend when he saw what you were wearing to the defense force banquet. whatever it was completely snapped when you brushed your hand against the bicep of some nobody from another division. the interaction made his vision bleed scarlet and it took all his energy to remain cordial as he all but dragged you out of the ballroom.

"ask nicely and maybe i'll think about it," you murmur.

"shut the hell up, please," he rasps, breathless from kissing you in a dark, quiet back hallway of the banquet hall.

"kiss me harder and i will," you counter and he just laughs, pinning you back against the wall. one of his hands runs up and down the side of your thigh, the other holding you close by the back of your neck. "what's gotten into you? not that i'm complaining, but-"

"do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" hoshina can barely breathe, every single one of his senses overtaken by you. your perfume, your skin, your eyes, your lips. he was sinking into an indulgence that he'd never allowed himself to have, and it was intoxicating.

"i think i can make several educated guesses." he rolls his eyes but is barely able to stay away from you and your smart mouth. "but really," you say, gently pushing him away and you swear you hear him groan in frustration. "what's going on, soshiro?" soshiro. he liked it when you said his name.

"i'm done pretending that i don't care about you anymore," he admits, his face burning from adrenaline and embarrassment. "i'm fucking sick of acting like you don't matter to me." you blink at him as his eyes burn molten-red.

"why did you act like i was a burden?" your voice cracks and something in hoshina's chest wrings. "why were you so mean for so long?"

"i was hoping i could scare you away," he replies guiltily after a tense moment. "i was hoping that, if i was mean to you...you would leave the force and you wouldn't get hurt. i just wanted you to be safe. all i ever wanted was for you to be safe."

"and you thought marrying me to get your benefits would keep me safe?"

"i've had better ideas," he concedes and you crack a smile. he mirrors your grin, kissing you sweetly. "can i make it up to you?" his hands travel more dangerously over your exposed skin, sending shudders down your body. "i promise i can...make amends to your liking." you hum, tugging him out of the nearest exit.

"i think that can be arranged."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[kayentokk]

i just know when you/anyone get(s) in a argument with kento or he’s worked up that mf start using big words he’s pulled out the damn thesaurus, dictionary all that on yo ass

probably not a heavy argument or discussion I feel like those cases are strictly straight to the point so there’s no added frivolous vocabulary

anyways anyways maybe he’s all tight suited and trying to keep his composure-he’s flustered this is a flustered kento (clutching my pearls and gasping so is he btw) how couldn’t he be flustered a beautiful woman such as yourself is sitting right across from him…talking to him…giving him your undivided attention which he should be reciprocating to you btw

but he just can’t focus, you’re much too gorgeous honestly but he still has some sense of self control what do you take him for? But you catch the glint of unfocus in his eyes

and that’s all it takes just a small suggestion that the reason for his distraction is the cleavage shown from your low neckline all in good fun of course but he’s so taken aback-

“So-how preposterous..I assure you that implication is-”

and he’s off the rails

you erupt with squealish giggles at the obvious effect your teasing had on him ofc he’s become more embarrassed by the fact that you find the situation humorous

—-

Ororor-

he’s frustrated from a day of work gojo really grated his nerves today all it takes is one “hey honey! how was your day?” and he’s all-

“seriously that ingrate, with all of his fatuous comments…”

“the serious absurdity it takes..”

“I have never, in my entire life, witnessed such a display of childish petulance..”

but your soft hands rubbing up and down his shoulders are enough to work him out of his stupor, just a calm “oh, Ken,” in your angelic voice is enough for him

—-

somehow all this ties together

you know your husband by now any and every time he gets riled up, first dates, work drama, and even banter like rn, alllllll of his vocabulary flows out of him

all you said was that the contestant had some validity to their answer on jeopardy, sure it wasn’t the right answer but it was better than nothing and it was somewhat close

at least in your eyes 🙄

“honey, I’m not sure how you see that as a plausible answer really…I mean it made absolutely no sense…it was a-”

you already knew where this tangent was headed….

“I love that Ken”, your sultry reply had Nanami pausing his speech in both confusion and interest

“love what, sweetheart?”

“Oh you know..” you drag out your words while simultaneously turning to straddle your husband

his hands reaching to rest, respectfully, on your sides and invite you in just a little closer eager to hear what you have to say..

“when you’re all,” you make a roundabout frantic gesture with your hands, “smarty pants”

“smarty pants?”

and you can’t help but laugh at the way it falls off his tongue

“yeah silly, y’never noticed when you’re all serious or flushed about somethin’ you start using all your ‘big man smarty pants’ words?”

he lets out a chuckle at that grin appearing on his face sure he’s a little red-faced at the sudden admittance of his odd habit but your smile overruns that

“no honey, I never realized that…but I see you have..”

there’s a knowing glint in his eyes, it makes your breath hitch

his fingers begin rubbing small circles into your hips those hazel colored eyes gazing at a slightly upward angle at you

“why don’t you tell me what it is you love so much about this..habit of mine…hmm?”

——

good lord this man- anyways the words aren’t rlly that big lmao im too tired to think of high quality vocabulary rn but i wanted to expand this thought i had a lil so here it is

[batfamily14]

The Wayne family is often underestimated, with most people assuming they’re just a bunch of wealthy, out-of-touch buffoons. But when it comes to intellectual game shows, they consistently blow everyone out of the water.

• Tim and Jason are currently locked in a fierce rivalry, battling for the title of reigning Jeopardy champion, with both brothers dominating the competition in their own ways.

• Dick is the fan-favorite on Big Brother, effortlessly charming his way into alliances while outwitting and outlasting his competitors.

• Damian has become a star on Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?, consistently schooling the younger contestants with his precocious intellect.

• Bruce occasionally makes an appearance on Are You Smarter Than a Celebrity?, often leaving the host and audience in awe of his surprising breadth of knowledge.

• Duke and Stephanie are currently taking on Family Feud, where their quick wit and teamwork make them a formidable duo.

• But no one has ever come close to beating Barbara on Wheel of Fortune—her uncanny ability to solve puzzles has made her a legendary figure on the show.

• Alfred was a winner on The Price Is Right, back in the days.

[marybatson]

BILLY BATSON WEEK 2025

It’s that time of the year again! 2025 marks the 85th Anniversary of Billy Batson as Captain Marvel debuting in Whiz Comics #2, the first official cover-dated issue released February 1940.*

A brief history In December of 1939, children at newsstands were picking up a particular issue with the cover of a flying man dressed in red, effortlessly lifting a car overhead. Bill Parker, senior editor at Fawcett Comics during this time, had developed a new kind of superhero: Billy Batson is a young orphan boy who transforms into a powerful champion named Captain Marvel at the drop of the word “SHAZAM!” He fights crime against notable villains together with a memorable cast of heroes he calls “family.”

A few years past their heyday, Fawcett Publications endured troubling legal problems that put their sales in jeopardy, eventually settling their dragging copyright case with National Comics Publications (predecessor of modern-day DC Comics) and putting Captain Marvel to rest indefinitely. The Captain’s return to comics happened in late 1972 under DC Comics, a run which the original artist C.C. Beck had worked on for only a year. Ever since, Billy Batson and his counterpart have appeared in many different iterations in many different comics, one of the only memories still enduring from a time already passed.

NOSTALGIA

The role of an archive is to make nostalgia obsolete. [...] Every comic book page is, like a work of scholarship, an act of recovery, or at times a dream in which nothing is ever lost, as past, present, and future make room for each other and exist in harmony. Studied carefully, a fanzine or a comic book, like Billy’s Historama, might reveal several lifetimes to us, one generation after another of names, faces, and stories. The art of nostalgia is figuring out which one to tell next.

— Captain Marvel and the Art of Nostalgia, Brian Cremins

This year’s overall theme is NOSTALGIA. Take this as you might, for however you interpret nostalgia—perhaps a reflection on your own personal narrative with Billy Batson, or an exploration between him and his own massive history, be it in-universe or with real life pop culture. You might even disregard the day-to-day prompts below and dedicate yourself to nostalgia thematically for the entire week! How you’d like to work with it is up to you.

Day 1 ☆ February 23, 2025 HOLY HISTORAMA

The Historama, similar to a crystal ball, is described as Shazam the Wizard’s “super-television screen,” of which he may use to see the past, present, and future. In later iterations, it presents itself as a book or object that displays any scene through time and, possibly, space. On this day, you might center the Historama itself, or explore any scenes of Billy’s history from any time or place.

Day 2 ☆ February 24, 2025 THE BOY OF ARTHURIAN LEGEND

Bill Parker, when asked to describe his inspiration for Captain Marvel, once said, “Specifically I got it from the Stories of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, stories with which I had been familiar and read as a child.”

At its core, the story of Billy Batson as Captain Marvel was a story about old wizards, spells, myths, and secrets—elements which children center their greatest fantasies and perhaps still carry with them throughout adulthood. Use this day to commemorate Billy Batson as a fulfilled fantasy, maybe as a knight facing dragons in some faraway world or a space-wandering sailor, the wildest childhood dream come true.

Day 3 ☆ February 25, 2025 SWEET HOME FAWCETT

This prompt is simply Fawcett: Fawcett Comics and their previous publications, possibly outside of Captain Marvel and friends, or Fawcett the city as depicted in the DC Comics iterations, home base of Billy and Captain Marvel.

Day 4 ☆ February 26, 2025 RETURN OF THE CHAMPION

Across his storied history, Captain Marvel has faced many setbacks in his journey back to comic book stands: previous lawsuits and settlements, harried DC Comics events, logistical decisions made behind closed doors. However many times he’s put on the back burner, Captain Marvel still manages to return in a triumph. We will see him again in fleeting appearances, celebrated homecomings, maybe a long-awaited reunion...

Day 5 ☆ February 27, 2025 THE WORLD HE LIVES IN

It is of note that, while Fawcett Comics held onto its hero as long as they could for the first few years, the DC Comics universe is where Billy and the Captain have held their home—for over fifty consecutive years. Use this as a day to reflect on Billy’s past DC universe adventures, from teams he’s been on to events he’s partaken in.

Day 6 ☆ February 28, 2025 A MARVELOUS FAMILY

Billy Batson’s not the only one with a candle to blow. Mary Marvel debuted in 1942, while Captain Marvel Junior had appeared much earlier, in 1941. Their contributions to the stories of Captain Marvel have been monumental in immortalizing his place as a beloved hero with weight and history. They are also deeply adored by Billy himself. Have this day to celebrate family, for each Marvel Family member who has added to the menagerie over the years, or to simply center Mary and Freddy and their own achievements.

Day 7 ☆ March 1, 2025 HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BILLY

Happy Birthday Billy Batson! Give him a cake. Give him a balloon. Give him a present. Tell him how much you appreciate him. He is eighty-five years old. He looks timeless! Is the secret the amber from the Sivana suspendium?

This is a free day, open for anything.

How to participate On Tumblr (and elsewhere, if desired), use the hashtags #billybatsonweek and #bb85week simultaneously so that others might see and engage with your work. Late entries are always, always welcome. I’ll be sure to reblog all entries inside the tags for archival reasons, so please don’t hesitate to tag my blog!

The Archive of Our Own story collection is linked here.

On previous weeks Feel free to browse entries from previous years for inspiration, or reuse the old prompts altogether!

2022 Prompts Post / 2022 Entries

2023 Prompts Post / 2023 Entries

2024 Prompts Post / 2024 Entries / AO3 Collection

*FOOTNOTE: Captain Marvel/Billy Batson celebrated his genuine 85th Anniversary December 2024, a date which acknowledges his original on-the-shelves debut in December of 1939. The cover date used in this character celebration week corresponds with what DC Comics used in their 75th Anniversary year count.

[wheel-of-fish]

The Phantom of the Opera on TV (and streaming)!

I've been sitting on this list for two years in hopes of making it complete, but I realized if I wait that long I'll never post it. Let me know what I've missed!

Please note that I haven't watched all of these in their entirety and can't attest to their quality/content.

Adaptations

1983 - The Phantom of the Opera (TV movie starring Maximilian Schell, Jane Seymour)

1990 - The Phantom of the Opera (TV miniseries starring Charles Dance, Teri Polo)

Parodies

1961 - The Woody Woodpecker Show, S4. E13, "Phantom of the Horse Opera"

1962 - Beany and Cecil, S1 E12, "Phantom of the Horse Opera"

1966 - That Girl, S1 E14, "Phantom of the Horse Opera"

1968 - The Pink Panther, S1 E17, "Cherche le Phantom"

1971 - Night Gallery, S2 E4, "Phantom of What Opera?"

1974 - The Phantom of Hollywood (TV movie)

1987 - Hello Kitty's Furry Tale Theater, "The Phantom of the Theater"

1989 - Julie & Carol: Together Again, "Phantom of the Opry" sketch (TV special starring Carol Burnett, Julie Andrews)

1989 - Babar, S1 E13, "The Phantom"

1989 - Count Duckula, S1 E21, "Fright at the Opera"

1991 - Night Court, S9 E1 & E2, "A Guy Named Phantom" (clip)

1993 - Doug, S3 E5, "Doug's Huge Zit"

1994 - Lamb Chop in the Haunted Studio (TV movie starring Shari Lewis)

1995 - Goosebumps, S1 E7, "Phantom of the Auditorium"

1995 - Wishbone, S1 E37, "Pantin' at the Opera" (part 1 | part 2)

1998 - Anatole, S1 E9, "The Phantom of the Cheese"

1999 - The Triplets, S5 E9, "The Phantom of the Opera"

2000 - Are You Afraid of the Dark?, S7 E10, "The Tale of the Last Dance"

2000 - SpongeBob SquarePants, S2 E22, "Something Smells" (clip)

2010 - Scooby-Doo! Mystery Incorporated, S1 E7, "In Fear of the Phantom"

2015 - All Hail King Julien, S2 E15, "The Phantom of Club Moist"

2019 - If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, S2 E6, "If You Give a Mouse a Pumpkin"

2019 - The Tom and Jerry Show, S3 E76, "PhanTom of the Oompah"

Character appearances

1981 - The Munsters' Revenge, TV movie (clip)

1984 - Diff'rent Strokes, S6 E16, "Hooray for Hollywood - Part 1"

1997 - "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" music video (HD version)

2009 - Saturday Night Live, "Save Broadway" sketch

2010 - It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, S6 E7, "Who Got Dee Pregnant?" (clip)

2010 - Ghouls, multiple episodes (clip)

2020 - Saturday Night Live, "Airport Sushi" sketch

ALW musical references

2006 - Family Guy, S4 E23, "Deep Throats" (clip)

2012 - Glee, S3 E18, "Choke" (clip)

2015 - The Late Late Show, Sept. 10: "James Corden joins the cast of The Phantom of the Opera"

2015 - The Late Late Show, Sept. 23: "Crosswalk the Musical: The Phantom of the Opera"

2016 - The Goldbergs, S4 E8, "The Greatest Musical Ever Written" (clip)

2018 - Jeopardy!, Feb. 15 show (clip)

2018 - The Late Late Show, June 18: "Crosswalk the Musical: Andrew Lloyd Webber classics"

2019 - The Umbrella Academy, S1 E1, "We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals" (audio)

2020 - Dash & Lily, S1 E4, "Cinderella"

2020 - The Crown, S4 E9, "Avalanche" (clip)

2022 - The Masked Singer, S8 E4, "Andrew Lloyd Webber Night"

Other

1991 - David Copperfield: Secret of the Phantom of the Opera (TV special)

[help-itrappedmyself]

Summoning Game Show Part 5

Masterpost

I just spent an unnecessarily long time making A Quiz so I would have questions and answers ready to go, only to not put any of them in. And spend a ridiculously long time doing math because I had to redo it like three times. Numbers are not my strong suit. In any case I now have a fully functional Jeopardy game and the next part.

~~~~~

It’s a close race. They were equal on the mountain track and neither really got sidetracked by Skulker on such a straightforward route. They made it to Zone Two almost even, but Jason almost immediately falls behind as Skulker hits him with a paintball. Being shot at shocked him more than anything, but realizing it was paint, he stopped trying to avoid it and just kept going, letting his armor deal with most of it. Skulker got bored and quickly went after Johnny instead, who got irritated and started a shouting match with Skulker as he drove. The different terrains meant they had to keep slowing down and speeding up, and Skulker got bored with the paintballs and started throwing water balloons instead. This was more annoying for the drivers because the water made the sand and mud trickier to drive on. Both Johnny and Jason both got their bikes temporarily stuck in mud and had to drag them back out while Skulker cackled above them. 

Zone three allowed Jason to catch back up to Johnny. This was what he was used to and he was able to go faster with more confidence. Johnny and Jason separated after Skulker shot a net at them both. And they found each other again on a straightaway leading to the finish line. It was close at the end, but Jason managed to pull out ahead. 

They shook hands at the finish line, walking back into the main room together. They separated when Johnny left to go back to the stands, followed closely by Skulker. 

“Wonderful race, very intense, great driving all around.” Danny says, very entertained. “Well earned win, Jason. I’ll remind you this is what you have currently.”

“What letter would you like to guess?”

“I’ll take I.”

“Another vowel, very good.” Danny waves his hand again. “There are two I’s!

“The next challenge is trivia, which will be played by Red Robin as he is the only one who has yet to participate in a challenge.”

A new podium appears on stage as Danny’s podium rotates so the two are facing each other. Red Robin walks up to the new podium.

“ The theme is SPACE!” Danny is so excited he is practically bouncing. A jeopardy-looking game board appears on the screen. “ You have 6 categories, all space themed, they are:  Earth, Other Planets, Space Numbers, Stars, Other Space Entities, and Spacecrafts! There are 9,000 possible points, you need to get at least 7,500 in order to win! The game can stop as soon as we’ve reached that number.”

Red, being Red, decides to do all the hardest questions first. He starts at the bottom left corner, gets the first question right. Tim thinks since he got the hardest one he could probably finish out the Earth category pretty easily, so he goes down the list and gets them all correct. 

With 1,500 points he decides to start the next category with the hardest question as well. This is his first wrong answer. He starts going up the list, and gets the 400 incorrect for this category as well. Danny is disappointed. The rest of the boys are infinitely relieved that Tim is the one doing the trivia part. They probably would have lost already. 

Tim does get the rest of the ‘Other Planets’ category correct and moves on with 2,100 points and 6,000 points left on the board. He decides to start ‘Space Numbers’ with the 100 point question and keeps going, acing the whole category. He now has 3,600 points. With 4,500 points left on the board he needs 3,900 more points. This means he can only lose 600 more points. He aces the ‘Stars” category, then moves on to ‘Other Space Entities’. He misses the last question, leaving him with 6,100 points and 1,500 left on the board. Tim can only afford to miss the 100 point question, so he decides to start at 500 and get it over with.

He continues until he reaches the 200 point question. If Tim answers this one he will win, and he does so correctly the screen changes to shoots of confetti.

[lianadelune]

pairing: alastor x reader

author's notes: sorry for the long wait 😭 college hates me and i started a new internship and i don't even have time to think about writing... but i finished another chapter, i don't know if it's good but i hope you like it, hopefully the next one is longer but i can't make any promises ;)

part 1

“what’s wrong?” charlie asked with a worried tone.

“nothing you have to concern your little head about it” alastor forced a smile, he knew none of them would believe him but he needed a couple hours alone to think about the letter “now… if there’s nothing more to be said, i will be going”

and before any of them could ask more questions alastor blended into the shadows and transported himself to his room in the hotel.

letting his smile drop a little he sat on his bed and stared at the letter in his hands.

why were they doing this to him?

sure, he’s not exactly the best person out there but he at least tried to be somewhat civil, between helping charlie with this excuse of a hotel and trying to not infringe on the terms of the deal he made long ago.

but this… this put everything he spent the last decades building in jeopardy.

if alastor could he would simply tear this letter apart and burn it, never thinking about those words again.

the demon stepped in front of his fireplace with the letter in hands ready to ignore and completely forget about it, but the tight grip on his hands didn’t let the letter fall in the flames.

he couldn’t.

after staring at the letter for what felt like hours, alastor finally set it aside. he could see the angels’ game as clear as day: they were setting him up to fail, counting on his nature to make it impossible for anyone, much less a human, to see him as anything more than a monster

and with that he was setting the hotel to fail spectacularly and that certainly wasn’t his deal with lilith all those years before.

that’s why she sent him the letter.

threatening everything he had accomplished with her help, either alastor likes to admit it or not.

but alastor was nothing if not stubborn, he wouldn’t let this stupid joke from heaven and lilith destroy everything for him, and, as much as he hates to admit, for charlie as well, and he wasn’t about to play the angels’ little game without a twist of his own.

after alastor’s initial attempts to charm you—mostly involving unsettling gifts, eerie glances, and his “radio smile” lingering far too long—he began to realize that his usual tactics weren't working. he’d appear in mirrors, whisper eerie compliments from dark corners, and once even serenaded you with a distorted, old-timey song that left you rattled. and yet, instead of getting closer, you were pulling away, more suspicious than ever.

seeing his frustration, the crew decided to intervene.

“look, al,” angel dust said one afternoon as he watched alastor pace around the lobby. “you can’t just be creepy and expect a girl to swoon. romance isn’t about lurking around like some horror movie villain.”

alastor frowned, his smile flickering. “romance isn’t exactly my expertise,” he admitted, crossing his arms. “but I was certain that she’d appreciate a little…mystique.”

“maybe tone down the ‘i’m watching you from the shadows’ vibe,” charlie suggested gently. “why don’t you just…be there for her? show up, help her out, maybe smile a little less, um…serial-killer-y?”

husk snorted, shaking his head. “yeah, or just act like a normal person for once. no haunting, no creeping.”

alastor grimaced, but, reluctantly, he took their advice. the next time he appeared, it was during the day, while you were organizing books on the shelf. he simply knocked on the door—a sharp, polite rap that startled you. when you turned, he was standing there with an unreadable expression, his hands behind his back.

“good afternoon,” he said, his voice smooth, though still holding that eerie undertone. “i thought perhaps I could assist you…if you’d allow.”

you looked at him with a puzzled expression, was he joking? after almost scaring you to death all those days and making you actually consider moving out of the very nice house you didn’t actually pay rent to now being polite as if he’s a sort of roomate of yours wanting to make peace after an argument?

you scoffed but still allowed him to help, at least he could make himself useful after everything.

“so…” you said after a while, still side-eyeing him, expecting your ghostly intruder to do something suspicious “what are you exactly?”

alastor stopped on his tracks, still with a book on his hands halfway through to be put on the shelf.

“well, me dear” you noticed the static on voice had toned down significantly after your first encounters “i am a demon”

“a demon, huh” you squinted, why the hell didn’t your grandmother tell you she had a freaking demon living in her house? “do you have a name, demon?”

alastor’s smile faltered a little, back in hell he would never let anyone talk to him like this, but here he was swallowing the harsh words he wanted to say at the cost of his life... or even better not-life.

“no name?” you insisted, making him wake up from his daydream.

“the name’s alastor” the deer-man turned towards you, the pile of books on his hand gone and the room feeling less like a mess “and what is your name?”

“you are haunting me and don't even know my name?” you crossed your arms on your chest, laughing at the idea.

alastor opened his mouth to send a snarky remark in your direction but you were faster.

“my name is (y/n)... (y/n) (y/l/n)”

after you introduced yourself, alastor’s expression flickered briefly, he had heard your name before he was sure he had but why couldn’t he place it from where? it’s not usual for alastor to forget things like this, he made a mental note to talk to charlie about it, maybe she would know.

“well, (y/n), i must say,” alastor began “it’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance properly.” he extended a hand in an oddly formal gesture, as if you were meeting at a tea party rather than dealing with an uninvited demon in your grandmother’s home.

despite yourself, you almost felt a pang of amusement at his attempt at chivalry, and with a smirk, you took his hand. his touch was cool, yet strangely grounding. but the moment you released his hand, that unnerving cheshire grin of his was back.

“now that we’re formally introduced,” he said, leaning in with an amused gleam in his eye, “perhaps you’ll stop looking at me like a poltergeist?”

“maybe if you stop acting like one,” you countered, rolling your eyes but finding yourself oddly charmed by his persistence.

taglist: @vxllys

[curio-queries]

ARE YOU SURE?!

Production Notes from eps 1 & 2

At this time, I'm not planning to do full response posts for these episodes. Maybe once I'm done with my Run BTS series but for now here's some production thoughts.

My initial thoughts are they've done an excellent job of merging the concepts for Bon Voyage and In The Soop while also adjusting for a reduction of members from seven to two.

To really understand this though, let's talk about some of the logistical requirements and goals of the previous shows for comparison.

Logistical Assumptions

So I think y'all do realize that there is SOME amount of planning that has to happen for a show like this to be made but honestly...the way some of you talk, it's like you think this footage just magically appears in front of an editor, capturing whatever the members happened to wander into. These aren't self-recorded vlogs. This is a full production with a crew, a budget, and a deliverable requirement; just like any other TV show.

One of the cutest moments for me was at the brewery when JM was teasing JK about a summary of what the show about. I KNOW this was the 5 second explanation that both of them would have had to say/hear dozens of times while pitching the show. That's what's so endearing about the way JM says it and JKs reaction.

They also know that statements like that, captured during filming often end up in promos. All the members are very aware as they're being filmed what footage ends up being used. We've heard them time and time again, 'please use this as the thumbnail', 'please keep this in', etc.

Jimin has always been the most vocal about questioning if the content works for their intended purpose. How many times have we heard him say 'can this even be used?' or 'this will be cut'. Usually it sounds to me like he's aware the footage they're getting in the moment doesn't align with the predetermined plan. But as is common with the footage we getnof the members, even though it wasn't according to plan, doesn't mean it's not releaseable.

The main point of JMs AYS concerns being his sickness. I'm sure he thought the show was in jeopardy of not fulfilling their deliverable requirements since it would be difficult to completely edit out. There is a legitimate concern that if they aren't able provide the agreed-upon footage, the show would never air. I'll talk more about this in my section on the edit.

For now, here's a list of SOME of the basics that have to be managed for y'all to keep in mind when consuming any kind of produced content.

Camera management: How many and what kinds of cameras need to be brought along? Are there special operators required like a drone operator. How often is the footage saved. How is it backed up? When and where are batteries charged? Who locations require early access so the crew can place stationary cameras prior to the member's arrival.

Sound management: Someone is making sure the microphones are charged, and capturing correctly. Being mic'd up is one of the easiest indicators of when the show is actively being filmed or not.

Security: this is BTS. The members didn't go anywhere without a security consultation and discussion of requirements.

Crew management: These are people that have to have places to eat, sleep, and have time off as well. They don't just vanish into thin air as soon as their job is done.

Location approval and tax requirements: Every country in the world has different regulations, incentives, and permits to be managed. The US varies these laws state-by-state.

Budget: Businesses don't stay in business by not managing the finances. We can talk more about this if anyone's interested but there are definitely some interesting points with how much on-screen time we got over the years regarding members' spending on the shows.

There's more but let's leave it at the for the moment and talk more about why I think this show was such a good blend of Bon Voyage and In The Soop from a production standpoint.

What was the initial goal of Bon Voyage?

I believe it was to promote the band and the members to viewers by giving us access to what it would be like to travel to various destinations around the globe. They knew the episodes still needed a catalyst though so there were various preplanned activities and games to motivate the editorial narrative.

BV1 was very experimental as they were obviously managing the challenges of such a production. There was a heavy emphasis on trying to make the members seem like regular ppl and seeing how they would tackle the problems many of us face with travel, chiefly budgetary and managing how to feed all of the travelers with strict spending limits.

BV2 completely game-ified the concept with the mini challenges and breaking everyone into different groups. It's very clear that this is not the strategy they preferred as BV3 was much lighter on the control. There were still some structured activities and events but the members were experienced enough to bring forth some of these moments themselves during the shoot rather than as a completely planned itinerary.

BV4 was a continuation of this with us also getting footage of the members being included in the event planning as well. I'm not saying they didn't have input in the planning of the previous seasons but by this point, production knew the members understood the requirements of a successful show as well as many of the necessary logistics. But it was still a travel show with some key events to fuel the storytelling.

How about In The Soop?

Enter pandemic. They obviously still wanted to do another show once they worked out what was permissible to film at the time. But now the changing of locations would not be a part of the engine. How were they going to ensure they still had a viable show? They did put in place a semblance of their previous formula with that silly daily schedule (that was ignored nearly to the point of being completely edited out) and a couple of events like the 94s mountain hike and vhope's car drive. But overall, they realized they had to rely purely on the members to find story moments and insure they were captured. Their trust was rewarded though and ITS1 was a hit.

Now ITS2 is a more interesting case. I do believe it may have started with the same intent as season 1, but it must not have been long in the pre-planning stage before a new goal was added: controlled access of a BTS tourism destination. I'm sure I'll go further into this topic whenever I do finally make posts on this series, but it's very plain to even the casual fan that the ITS2 location was a planned financial investment.

Enough about the location though, what were the filming objectives? Honestly? Not much. The members were clearly ready for a break and were mired in the uncertainties of the time period. Balancing the focus of the english-solo-songs era with the preparations for ch.2 solo activities resulted in an odd lack of direction for the members, which is evident in the show. Yes, there are great moments and segments but there's no progression and very little footage of all the members all together except during certain meals.

But ITS2 is still hailed as enough of a success that there was justification to add to the franchise with Tae's friendship installment.

But what does all this mean for Are You Sure?

We'd heard from many of the members during ch.2 that they would like to continue Bon Voyage so it honestly wasn't surprising that we'd eventually get another travel show featuring our beloved BTS members. Early in episode 1 of AYS, Jungkook says he's never traveled so loosely before. However this show was justified, it definitely wasn't planned to be another hyper-detailed barrage of JM & JK going from activity-to-activity like early BV but it also couldn't be as aimless as ITS. For as long as the conversation was surrounding the name of the show, we never hear them suggest Bon Voyage 5 because AYS was never intended to be another installment of that series.

This is why I said AYS is a perfect mesh of the two kinds of shows. Granted, the first episodes definitely had some unexpected obstacles due to the unexpected health concerns but I think the production team managed it well. Although, I'm convinced there's at least one activity they did have planned that had to get scrapped to let our poor guys rest and recuperate. I also wouldn't be surprised if by the time they started filming in the US, they hadn't locked another destination and schedule with how unsure JM & JK are when talking about the scope of the show. (And I hope we get some update on the poor motorcycle, I want to know how it got where it needed to be from the rainy grocery parking lot).

The Edit

The overall tone of the show is very lighthearted. Kind of surprisingly so for me. It's not the vibe I would have necessarily expected but it's one of the points that leads me to say they have merged BV and ITS so wonderfully.

A major aspect of BTS's content is usually the chaos and shenanigans the surround the members. Now much of that is emphasized in the context of one of these shows but I honestly wouldn't have been surprised if the edit had tried to make up for the lowered member count. Instead, it's a very laid-back edit. The quality and tone of the on-screen captions was world's different from some of the BV seasons (thank goodness!)

Now, about Jimin's illness. There's a reason why the coverage is cut the way it was to only bring us in on the story once both JM and JK started talking about it lightheartedly. If we'd had all of that footage chronologically, we also would have had building tension throughout the day's activities. But this way, we're able to enjoy the show per the original pitch as much as possible.

This show would have been planned during the time when the members were under heavy scrutiny for how successful they'd be as individuals and how their content will be received without the full seven members. Again, the way some of y'all talk about these shows, it's like you don't realize that the members are aware of how this content is structured. They are. They absolutely are.

Also, a big part of greenlighting AYS would have been a discussion of how it could be made with just 2 of the 7 members. JM and JK would have to take on a lot more of the burden since there wouldn't be other member to cut to. The solo vlogs we got at the beginning of ch.2 absolutely would have been used as a proof of concept. There are easy comparisons to make between JKs camping vlog and the camping scenes we got in these first AYS episodes.

Another key justification of the show could have been as promotional material for the current musical releases. While they did highlight quite a bit of both JK and JM's work in these episodes, the narrative definitely wasn't tilted in the direction of promotion. I love that because it's absolutely not what I would have expected.

What am I looking forward to for the remainder of AYS?

From a production standpoint, I'm already curious about the following:

Will there be any tonal shift? Specifically now that JM and JK have some uncertainties about the viability of their US adventure. Will it seem like they're compensating?

We know Tae is going to be in at least the next episode. How is this going to handled narratively and will there be any visible contradictions from that narrative in the production?

At what point was the final quantity of locations and shoots locked down? And when/if will JM and JK make mention of this.

If/How will the music promotion narrative shift? It's clear that this episode could not have been released until after MUSE's release once they decided to keep the footage of JK listening to Who. But when was that decision made?

What are your thoughts on the production of AYS so far?

Editing to add a link to my post on episode 3. Surprisingly I had a lot more to say!

Are You Sure?! Production notes from ep 3.

And there has been even more to say so here's a MasterList link

Are You Sure?! MasterList

[gale-gentlepenguin]

You know, Bunnyx is always interfering when there is a threat to the timeline. But thanks to the London Special we learned that the timeline ending would only mean this iteration would no longer appear. Lila isnt going to destroy the world, but if she gets her wish, bunnyx wouldnt be the guardian of time.

Thats the reason Bunnyx doesnt let Marinette go and get the butterfly miraculous. Not because it would put the timeline in Jeopardy? But it puts Alix out of a job. Its why she doesnt tell Marinette the right or wrong thing to do regarding Adrien. Bunnyx is trying to keep the power of time ALL for herself.

THEREFORE! Bunnyx is the true villain of Miraculous Ladybug.

[scarapanna]

Shadow Milk's redesign in bound to the skies is here!! [Old post can be found here]

Here's some updated info!!

Shadow Milk is a cuckoo-like avian, due to his markings and appearance.  He's based off of the common cuckoo, and his behavioural habits are similiar to one;

Being a beast, he and his colleagues struggle less with the rapid loss of magic, but still suffer from such when they use more complex spells;

To by-pass this, he work with a combination of actual magic and stage magic. 99% of his props are crafted by hand, and even though his shows are on a smaller scale, they're still just as effective;

Like Pure Vanilla's, Shadow Milk's feathers reflect light, the how much they do depends on his energy levels. Unlike him, they don't reflect the daylight, but instead the moonlight, especially during a new moon. All of his eyes are completely functional;

When one of his feathers molts, they lose their shine and gradually break down from the lighter bits to the darker. This happens in about 2-3 weeks after falling off;

He usually takes on different appearances for most shows, during these anyone called to the stage is either crumbled if they can't surpass his next stunt or come back as a much different cookie if they do. These shows are designed to put the viewer's mind in jeopardy, with the beast manipulating participants into doing what he wants. Often this is the cause of heated disputes of varying scale, all for his amusement;

Shadow Milk's appearance is left un-altered during his more plesant spectacles, to lure cookies into a false sense of security;

Overall, he's rotten at his worst and annoying at his best, but still goofy in his own way

[flippinpancakes64]

Hey can I request the cullens x pop star reader who wrote a love song about them. Like do you think they would like it or find it embarrassing.

Thanks for your time❤️

The Cullens with a Pop Star! Reader

This ask is so cute I love it! I’m such a sucker for love songs it’s not even funny.

Aaaaaand…. My asks are back open! Send me requests! Go crazy!

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edit: this is now day 3 of me writing this one… i have been so preoccupied reading Wolverine x Reader tics I completely forgot that I even had this in here. My sincerest apologies

Edward:

He’s a little hesitant to be with you publicly

It’s already sketchy enough for him to be in one place too long because people notice he doesn’t age

But being with you on tv or in magazines? Yeah no

So he doesn’t make public appearances with you

But he does support you unconditionally

He’s no stranger to writing a song for someone

So when he’s sitting at home, tuned in to a live show you’re having and you announce a new song that’s about a man that you love, he’s all ears

He LOVES it

Makes you sing it for him all the time

He wants it on vinyl, on cd, on a casette, on apple music, on spotify, and even on soundcloud

He wants this song etched behind his eyes so he can see it whenever he blinks

To him, it just proves that you love him without a shadow of a doubt

Alice:

She loves it

She doesn't really care about being seen on tv or anything

In fact, she loves being able to show off her outfits

It's her favorite thing to help you find stage outfits and outfits for red carpets or award events

She's backstage at one of your concerts, waiting for you to come back during a halfway break so she can touch up your makeup

When suddenly you announce that you have a new song that you wrote for your girlfriend

And obviously everyone in the audience knows who your girlfriend is

She could start crying

She loves the song so much

It could be one minute long or 6 minutes long and she would still want to listen to it on repeat

You better be prepared to sing all of the time because that's all she wants to hear now

When you do eventually go backstage you have to take a bit longer than a brief intermission because she kisses you so hard that all of your makeup comes off and your hair gets messed up

Jasper:

He's a bit camera shy

He doesn't really care about being seen with you because he's a vampire, it's moreso because he just doesn't want to be on camera

But he does his best to be supportive of you

He hates when you have to leave to go on tour or something

He likes to pose as a personal bodyguard so that he can still be close to you

He is a little embarrassed that you wrote a song about him

All of your fans already started speculating that you and your "bodyguard" were dating

But with this song it was definitely confirmed

He's not mad tho

He's just a lil bashful

He is happy though

It means that you're gonna get hit on a lot less since people know that you're in a relationship now

He loves the song though

When you sing it for him, he is never more at peace

He's still coming to terms with the fact that you love him so much you're willing to let the whole world know

Rosalie:

She's a little hesitant for the same reasons as Edward

As much as she hates being a vampire, she loves her family

Even if she doesn't let it show

She doesn't want to put them in jeopardy

And especially being in the age of the internet, it would be really easy for any of your fans to look her up and see that there's no record for her

It's just more risk than necessary

So she hangs back whenever you're out

She is super supportive of your career though, don't get me wrong

One night, you're on a late night talk show and it gets to the segment where you get to perform a song

You get out there and say that you made a new song for the love of your life, and she instantly perks up

It sounds heavenly

It's in the style of music that she adores, your voice sounds perfect, the song is filled with innuendos to things that only the two of you understand

To say she loves the song is an understatement

And no, she is not embarrassed at all by the song

She loves it too much

Emmett:

He's your biggest fan

He is at every concert, at every red carpet event, every awards ceremony, everything

All of your fans know his name

He might run a fan page on instagram who knows

He'll never tell

You're singing at an awards ceremony when you announce that you have a new song that you wrote for yours and Emmett's anniversary

The cameras capture his reaction too

His mouth is wide open the whole time

He starts crying

Afterwards he literally just holds you the whole night

He doesn't feel even one drop of embarrassment

In his eyes, this song just proves how much you love him and his reaction just proves how much he loves you

And yes you now have to sing this song for him for the rest of eternity

Esme:

She’s also hesitant to be seen with you publicly

She’s had to hide herself for so long, it’s just second nature

Not to mention that she doesn’t want to do anything that could put her family at risk

So she opts to support you from home

And support you she does

She loves your music

Even if it’s not what she would normally listen to, she loves it

You had a concert on her birthday, and you were super upset you couldn’t be there

Not that she celebrates her birthday anyway

But still

So you wrote her a song

And you played it

She didn’t even know about it until you texted her later

You had to walk her through how to pull up the video of it

But after she does she can’t stop listening to it

She loves it so much

Expect a cuddle tackle when you get home

Carlisle:

Also is not seen with you publicly

He’s okay with people knowing about him, but he has to put the safety and privacy of his family first

He loves how people are dying to know who your mysterious boyfriend is tho

He thinks it’s funny

And he’s super supportive of your career

You love music, he loves you, so he supports you no matter what

He has the receptionists play your music at the clinic

And he does his best to tune in to every performance you have

One night you come up to him and tell him you have a surprise

You play the recording of his song for him

He loves it

You’re not escaping the cuddle monster for the rest of the night

Sorry

And him being embarrassed is not even in his vocabulary

He loves the song, and he loves that you love him so much you wanted to write a song about it

Vampire! Bella:

Pop music’s not really her thing

But she loves you and she actually kinda likes your music so it’s not a problem for her

She doesn’t really want to be seen in public with you

Not necessarily because she’s scared of protecting her secret

But mostly just cause she’s awkward around cameras

The first time she hears the song, you dragged her out to your studio to listen to a new song you were working on

She didn’t know what she was in for

She gets a little embarrassed cause there are other people in the room

But other than that she doesn’t get embarrassed over the song

She loves it so much

She wants it burned onto a cd so she can listen to it all the time