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[bunicate]

okie I’m feeling much much better now and I feel HORRIBLE, bcuz I feel like I said I’d repost things and I never did. I know for a fact I mentioned a lucifer and belphie smut but if there’s one I’m forgetting … pls let me know >_>

[moonlitrogue]

Full Moon x Pick A Card : What you need to hear 📝🌛

Some channeled messages that this full moon’s energy brings to the collective. All specific and general details are meant for a certain part of the collective. Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t and if you are drawn to more than one pile feel free to read them! Let me know if it resonates. 👒

pile 1

angel number : 555 | song : blooming today by sung ki kyung

hello, pile 1! i see you have had an exhausting cycle. some of you have been identifying with external conflicts and the sludge of other people’s projections with your own vibe. this group is either young, or sheltered. or you may have limited interactions with the world. holding and understanding pain is not your purpose right now. if you have been tangled with other people’s shadows or confronting their unhealed behaviour, remember to take due care of yourself. i hear, “drop the anchor”.

you need a little more muscle and structure in you, to not be blown away by things you dislike or bring disturbance. we can’t avoid being agitated or moved by the currents of life, but you also need to find stillness so that, you are able to receive the wisdom that comes out of situations which are ‘threatening’. how will you find this stillness? 

deep, regulated, conscious breathing. the one thing you have been doing, since you came into this world, it is the one thing connecting us within. and regulating our functions from the chaos. 

some of you have artistic abilities and talent. you are called to explore any creative medium during this cycle. this stage of your life calls for introspection and exploration of your creative side. creating a sanctuary, a paradise for yourself is closer to your life’s purpose.

“curation”, im hearing that word a lot. curation of knowledge and resources. in this cycle, you will be provided with opportunities to expand and learn. you’re called to deepen your understanding of yourself. you need a ‘base’ to work on and have a footing in this world. don’t be afraid to be a beginner, a learner. the roots need to go deep to ensure your growth and survival, and to keep the flower above the ground blooming.

masterlist

pile 2

angel number : 1111 | song - antenna by hyukoh, 落日飛車, sunset rollercoaster

you feel restless pile 2. im channeling the placements for sun in taurus, moon in pisces, saturn in cancer/virgo and north node/8h scorpio. if it doesn’t resonate with your placements, that’s alright, it is only a specific vibe i got for some of you. i was told, “your quest, your mission is on its way.” 

some of you are recovering from ill health. im hearing you need more of omega-3, so include some tuna, mackerel, flaxseeds, chia, walnuts and edamame beans in your diet, whatever your preferences may be. 

i feel a lot is going at the mind and body level - maybe, anxiety, you’re in need of fresh air and good ventilation, maybe even a clean-up of your surroundings. there could be a change of scenery, traveling, it could even be a short-term movement. 

why am i channeling so many things for you?

you could be at a crossroads. preparing to enter a transformational phase. for this reason, you are looking for answers and the universe wants to tell you : the answer is now, the answer is you.

you have worked on something for a long time. and you are getting close to its fruition. you may not have noticed how much you have grown during this journey. what a wonderful job! the universe is so proud of you! 

you have come a long way and with all the challenges you have overcome, you have also acquired all those skills. it feels like you have absorbed the know-how and have it in your inventory. 

keep being in the flow, soften your mind, keep reminding yourself that you have got this. your dream is closer than you know. this is a moment to rest and refine, that is all. 

masterlist

pile 3

angel number : 1221 | song : pined for you my whole life by matt maltese

there is wonderful news on the horizon for you pile 3. you guys have such a charming and dreamy energy. such romanticists. why do i feel some of you are being pursued or courted? there is a cloud of pining around you!

now the message coming through for you is that you gotta not be so slippery lol. why are you putting so much energy into daydreaming and pining when you have people for you, willing to lay themselves at your feet? you have the opportunity to live out your fantasies, so what are you waiting for?

ah, the comfort of your imagination is hard to leave? i get it, pile 3. believe it or not, you coy mfs make it hard for some people to live and breathe. it is not just the case of desire but the gift of being able to connect with you, genuinely.

and because you are so blessed with intelligence, you know who is good for you. you know who complements your energy, and this person is itching to spoil you. 

give yourself the permission to be seen. vulnerability is challenging and you are allowed to take baby steps. and you don’t even need to initiate, it seems. i hear “don’t complicate it, keep it simple, simple is so attractive”.

on a more general note, i hear how “blessed” you are and how “lucky”. you are mostly grateful and don’t take things for granted. so, it creates these ripples where things come to you “with ease”. maybe your own personal efforts could be dismissed, or the hurdles be discounted from your achievements. 

you may have to deal with expectations or people diminishing your success. that invalidation is really uncalled for. don’t use that excuse to undervalue what you do, okay? 

validation is only an added bonus, people are not always qualified or observant or compassionate. 

a lot of this pile’s wounds seem to be related to wanting to be recognized. we were never meant to be alone, afterall. you will always be the first witness to your journey.

i recommend journaling. there are a lot of ways to go about documenting your life and you can look for less effort-intensive ways. “one line” journals are also helpful. you can even record your own voice narrating a week or a month in your life. 

there is no need to be ashamed of your achievements, pile 3.  people will learn to recognize it in due time but in the meanwhile, keep going and celebrate with the ones who DO recognize and cherish you. 

masterlist

pile 4

angel number : 1010 | song - the flood by aurora

have you parted ways with someone who meant a lot to you? im sorry my dear, pile 4. i know how much they meant to you, and vice versa. you each carry so much of the other’s love and quirks. yeah, you guys seem inseparable. in fact, this break may be necessary for you to look at the world and take a breather from the expectations and influences of each other. to some of you, this break can even bring peace or a different perspective. i’m getting that this is a professional break. maybe one or both of you could be exploring opportunities, pursuing a career or work that has placed a lot of demands in a way that has led to this separation. 

im a little confused with the contrast because, i sense this loyalty and connection, but also sadness. for one group, it is possible you will both do your own thing for a while. this connection is one of a kind and i do see reunion of sorts on the cards. you both have so far had the front seat privilege of cheering each other, witnessing the highs and the lows. this period will be a reset. if you are seeking reassurance, i hear better days are coming. 

for another group, you will sort of realise this person was idolised and now you will be able to drop that idea. if they have triggered you, this will be an opportunity to reflect on it. the other person is also going through an important lesson, and i hear the word ‘illusion’. it is possible if you guys ever do make the decision of reuniting, you will drop any illusion, or be more honest and clear with your communication. 

this theme also extends to the rest of your own identity. you are thirsting to know what is ‘real’, and what is ‘true’. you want to slither between the gaps and know things on an intimate level. you want to savour this world in its raw form. how delightful. this could be the start of something new. a new pathway forming in your brain, the way you see and connect with the outer world. 

are your interactions merely reactive, or are they coming from a place of curiosity, wanting to understand better. are you in a glass wall, only seeing the other person from within a closed space, or can you see the light dancing in their eyes and the weight they place behind certain words? these are the questions, the energy of this full moon prompts you.

masterlist

dividers by @strangergraphics

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice. 

Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can. 

Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there. 

It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.

Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically. 

It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood. 

He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie. 

“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?” 

“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.

“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.” 

“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.

“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty. 

“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-” 

“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-” 

“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles. 

“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word. 

Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.

“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.” 

And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home. 

The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!

[beloveds-embrace]

My brother in christ I NEED MORE ANGST, I crave it actually. Like I need duchess to get pregnant by Konig but since it isn’t John’s him and the boys start acting weird then BOMB,

she loses her baby from stress….

I need angsty secret baby where the father is an asshole cause he’s still hurt that she kept his kid from him.

And don’t think I forgot abt that little ghoap stunt you pulled four hours ago. SHE LEAVES but instead of telling them, she wants to see how long it would take for them to notice she’s gone, And that my friend is where my other idea come into place[evil tiktok face]

Angsty ghoap + secret baby….

omg if that happens, especially if reader was really looking forward to the baby despite knowing all the difficulties, she’d be crushed. She was slowly regaining a semblance of peace and happiness with König, but now? All gone. Maybe postpartum depression, too, leaving you painfully, horribly vulnerable and stuck in a house with John and the boys even if König is there.

(What if he can’t be there, though? A doctor who snitched, who had seen how König’s worry and anxiety over you isn’t normal for a simple knight, and the rumors that start from the whole mess means your own damn parents have him forcibly taken back to their estate, far away from you? Just crumbs to think about :3)

AS FOR THAT, oh my god this by @baduzzxy is so fucking delicious?? I recommend 100/10 (though it’s on the deliciously darker side, rather than angst)

HOUR COUNT TOO??? ur so cruel to me anon smh. no longer brother in christ 🙂‍↕️ jk

Secret baby with thosw two seems to be a common theme for that little drabble i will Most Definitely Not Expand Upon (haha. Noona that’s what u told urself for everything u wrote haha.) and I fully support it!! They are assholes through and through, using you as just a temporary fix so surely they won’t care for their babies. Surely. Since they don’t even seem to care for you.

Wrong. So, so very much wrong. But also extra angst: they love the babies, they don’t think they love you :)

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 04/April/2024

Quick one this week as there’s still a few more tasks I want to check off before next week!

Most of the editing is completed! Woohoo! It’s just editing on the current chapter holding me up a little as not only is there a TON of variation in it along with the branched scenes, but I decided to add in a massive choice set because, you know, I can’t help myself, hehe! :D

The choice set I had before was good, but I don’t want good I want more, lol! So, I’m expanding it for all the love interests. Now it definitely feels way more impactful!

Plus, it means I got to add in another small romantic moment before a bigger romantic moment, which is on-theme for this book which is seriously all about any opportunity for the romance!

I also had great fun starting the Spring Scenario Specials for Patreon! Loving the flower language theme :D

Started with Mason/Morgan this week and the pink camellia meaning ‘Longing for you’!

Will let you know the others as I write them!

Next week, I should be able to move onto the next chapter. I’ll be re-printing out the plan to go over ready in prep after my last set of notes for it!

Hope you all have the most amazing weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update you all again next week! <3

[nfr-girly]

Eddie Munson x reader // possible Steve x reader

:: angst + fluff jealous eddie <3

:: masterlist ♡︎ divider by @chachachannah

Chrissy had been hanging out at hellfire club for a few weeks now, you first introduced her and Nancy to them when Mike and Dustin joined the club. You weren’t apart of the club yourself, but you and Eddie had been friends for years, so he let you hang out there every so often.

You, Nancy, robin and Chrissy were closer than ever. Robin introduced you to Nancy, and you introduced them to Chrissy. You couldn’t go anywhere without eachother, you knew you could always rely on them. Which is why you felt super guilty about how you were feeling these past couple of weeks.

It was no secret you felt things for Eddie. How could you not? He was a confident rockstar, with loads of tattoos and long curly hair. Anyone with a brain would’ve fell for him

Ever since Chrissy and Eddie were first introduced, Eddie always stayed super close to her at hellfire, she would ask him questions about the game and he would guide her through it, you’d always see the two make small jokes between themselves. You loved chrissy, and you could never blame her for trying to make friends, but all you could think as you watched the two were how you wish that was you.

You and Eddie were good friends, but you knew you two would never be anything more than that, you always thought he’d prefer someone like him, or you thought that until Chrissy. They were complete opposites. She was the popular, nice cheerleader; and he was a rockstar who played guitar, and mostly wore black. But of course he liked Chrissy, everyone did! She was the best, how could they not?

After hellfire you and Chrissy walked to her car and talked, you asked her, “how did you find it?”

“I really liked it!! Everyone’s so welcoming especially Eddie, he helped me a lot” she replied

You nod slowly, curious you ask, “what did you guys talk about? I heard you laughing a lot”

“Oh well he talked about his hobbies he’s got, and asked me about some stories from cheerleading.”

“Oh, well it’s good you have another friend in the club, aside from yours truly” I nudge her and she laughs

I try to keep a positive attitude upon hearing about her new friendship with Eddie. But inside I can’t help but feeling all sorts.

*a few weeks pass*

The more hellfire met up, the closer Eddie and Chrissy got, it made you insane, you felt so guilty feeling this as they were both your friends, and Eddie didn’t belong to you.

Now you were walking towards Chrissy’s car, you had a shift at the video store with Steve, but you didn’t have a car yourself yet, so you had to rely on either Robin or Chrissy.

You waved at Chrissy as you approached her car and she waved back, unlocking the door for you.

You get in and hug her, “thank you so much for taking me, I still need to wait two months then I’ll have my license.”

“Don’t worry about it! The stores on the way to my house anyway”

You two start heading to the store and make conversation, until she mentions something about Eddie.

“Eddie also asked me if I wanted to go to the cinema with him”

Your heart dropped, they were going on a date? Maybe it wasn’t a ‘date’ but still.

“Oh that’s nice of him, what are you going to see?”

“We’re going to see pretty in pink! I know it doesn’t seem like his type of film, but he let me choose, and I’m hoping to expand his knowledge for movies”

“That’s good! But watch out for him falling asleep” You joke, hoping she doesn’t catch your sudden change in mood.

We get to the video store and you say bye to her, as you head to the door you think about her and Eddie, thinking of all possible outcomes of their ‘date’. Will he confess his feelings for her? Will she say yes? Will they announce their relationship at the next hellfire meeting?

Your mood has turned upside down, it’s obvious something’s up with you.

You get to the desk and meet Steve, you say hi to him and change into your uniform, as you come out the bathroom, he pipes up.

“Who shit in your coffee?”

“What?” You say

“You look depressed as hell”

“No- I’m okay, just got a bit on my mind”

“You can tell me, it’s a slow day today so anything’s better than standing here all day”

You hesitated telling him, but Steve had an idea about your feelings for Eddie anyway, so you thought why not?

“You know Eddie..” you turned around hoped he’d catch on

Steve raised his eyebrows and immediately grabbed a seat for you and him, knowing you were about to go on a rant

You chuckled before sitting down

“Well him and Chrissy have been getting close recently, and he asked her to go see pretty in pink at the movies”

Steve nodded, knowing your feelings for Eddie, that must’ve hurt

“Don’t get me wrong I know me and him aren’t a thing, it just feels shitty”

“Yeah I know. Listen why don’t you and me hang out tomorrow? I’ll pick you up after school and we can go to star court, we’ll go roller skating and eat some ice cream, whatever you want”

You lifted your head to look at Steve, you felt so grateful for him as a friend

“Really? Are you busy though?”

“Nah, I haven’t got much going on right now so I’m free pretty much anytime. Cmon, it’ll be fun”

Maybe hanging out with someone else would get your mind off of Eddie? You didn’t see why you and Steve couldn’t hang out

“Okay then, hellfires on tomorrow so if you pick me up at around 4, I’ll be waiting there, let me know when your at the front of the school”

“Oh do you want to finish hellfire first?” He asks

“No it’s okay. I could do with a break from seeing him and Chrissy all close”

He chuckles, “okay, 4 it is”

*the next day*

You spend the day waiting for the final bell to ring so you can finally hang out with Steve, you and Steve haven’t hung out in a while, so you’re looking forward to today.

You and robin head to her locker to get her things for the last lesson, maths.

“Hey me and Steve are going to star court to roller skate, wanna come with?” You ask her

“Sorry i would but me and vickie are going bowling tonight”

“Oh yeah, you and vickieeee” you nudge her

“Shut up, we’re just friends” she laughs

“Yeah right, you know she likes you back why don’t you just ask her out already?”

“We’re just taking things slow, besides I don’t see you asking out Eddie anytime soon”

You playfully slap her arm as she laughs

“Shut up! I doubt that’s gonna happen, see how close him and Chrissy are now?”

“They’re probably just friends, besides you and Eddie have known each other so much longer”

“I know, but it just sucks. I love Chrissy don’t get me wrong, but he hasn’t been like this with any girl he knows”

“Just wait a bit, maybe it’ll die down?”

“Maybe”

You both head to maths and the period goes by slower than ever, then finally the bell rings and you and robin pack up

You part ways with her, wishing her good luck with vickie, as you head on your way to hellfire. You didn’t wanna see Chrissy and Eddie being all ‘lovey dovey’, but you were only gonna be there for 10 minutes before Steve came, so you didn’t mind

You got to hellfire and said hello to everyone, before Eddie came over to you.

“Hey Princess, haven’t seen you for a while, what you been up to?”

Eddie called you princess since middle school, it was just a nickname you gained after knowing him, you never thought anything of it until you started to gain feelings for him, now it gets your heart spinning whenever he says it.

“Not much, just been busy with schoolwork, anything going on with you?” You notice your tones colder than usual, you just hope he didn’t notice, he did

“Just been practicing a new song with the band, we got a few gigs with a bigger venue than usual” eddies band corroded coffin had been gaining a bit of popularity in the town with their new songs, you were proud of him, you just weren’t in the mood to show in right now

“That’s good, well I’ll see you at the table” you give him a small smile and head to talk to Dustin

Eddie looks at you, eyebrows furrowed, he knows something’s up with you, he just wants to know what.

10 minutes later they start the game, you tell them you’ll skip out on this one as you have to go in a minute, Chrissy isn’t here today so Eddie doesn’t stay close to her, instead he looks at you, a lot.

You hoped he didn’t notice your change in mood, but maybe he did?

All of a sudden the phone rings, “hello?” You say

“Hey, it’s Steve, I’m outside”

You smile, “I’ll see you in a minute” you end the call and gather your things

“I’ve got to go now, let me know who wins!” You begin to leave before Eddie pipes up

“Wait where are you going?” Eddie looks confused. Why weren’t you staying?

“I’m going to star court with Steve.”

Eddies face drops slightly

“Oh. Okay.”

You feel bad, Eddie looks kinda annoyed you’re ditching hellfire

“What are you guys doing there?” He asks, curious

“Well we’re gonna rollerskate, and probably get something to eat, maybe other stuff”

Eddie doesn’t want to even think about what ‘other stuff’ means, but he just shakes it off

“Kay, see you later”, Eddie looks down and continues setting up the game, the whole rooms silent as everyone can see eddies pissed.

“Well… I’ll get going now.” You walk away before things can get any more awkward.

You say bye to everyone else and walk towards Steve’s car.

He gets out to greet you and you wave

“Hey you ready to go?”

“Yeah, thanks for taking me out today, it could really help me”

“Of course, Eddie say anything when you mentioned you were hanging out wit me?”

You thought about eddies face, you couldn’t tell if he was mad you were ditching D&D or mad at something else, but you didn’t like it

“No, but he looked really annoyed at something, I don’t know” you get into his car without saying anything else, you end up missing Steve’s smirk.

*at starcourt*

“You’re gonna have to hold me I can barely skate” you laugh as you put on your skates

“Hey I’m not perfect either, we can both fall” Steve replies

You two get onto the rink and you almost immediately slip before Steve catches you

“Woah! Slow down, Jesus”

“Don’t you dare think about leaving me” you say as you link onto his arm

“Don’t worry. I won’t”

You two attempt to skate, a few falls here and there, mostly from you of course, but you two end up having loads of fun

You two go to bring back your skates and change into your shoes

“Wanna go to scoops? I have a friend who always gives me a small discount” he asks

“Okay, but I’m out of money”

“Don’t worry it’s on me”

You two head over to scoops and order your ice creams, you walk around the mall as you eat and talk

“So why exactly haven’t you told Eddie your feelings for him yet?” Steve asks you

“Why would I, he’s clearly not into me”

“You say that but you two have been friends since middle school, you’ve known each other that long and you’re gonna tell me he doesn’t like you like that?”

“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean he likes me”

“Well he’s always been soft to you, and Eddie isn’t usually like that, he’s still not keen on me”

“He’ll warm up to you eventually” you say

You two decide to start heading home when you see a Photo Booth near the entrance

“Steve! Please can we take photos” you beg him

He laughs, “yeah sure, cmon”

You two get in the photo booth and take photos, you both exit the booth to look at the photos

One picture is you and Steve making a funny face, one is Steve with his arm over your shoulder, the other with your head on his shoulder.

You both take a copy and walk towards the car park.

You both hop in and Steve drives you home, you get to your house and he walks you to your door.

You hug him and say, “Thank you so much for today. I had loads of fun”

“Of course, we should do it more often, we don’t hang out enough considering we work together”you both laugh, he says bye to you and drives away

You go inside your house and smile, you managed to not think about Eddie once while you were with Steve.

*monday*

At lunch break, you head to your locker to sort it out before your next lesson, inside is a wall of photos you’ve collected with friends, a few of robin, Nancy and Chrissy, a group photo of hellfire, a photo of Eddie and you in middle school, and a photo of you two from a few months ago.

You realise you don’t have any of Steve, but you remember you have the photo from the Photo Booth inn your jacket. You take the photo out and decide to put it on the lockers wall. You grab a bit of bluetac, but before you hang it on someone approaches you.

“Hey princess” Eddie says behind you, making you jump

“Shit. You scared me” you chuckle before facing him

“What you doing?” He asks

“Just putting up a photo” you turn back to the locker to stick the bluetac on the back of the photo

“Who is it of?” He asks

“Steve and me”

You don’t see, but eddies smile drops

“Oh, from when you guys hung out?” His tone now serious

“Yeah, we went to a Photo Booth in Starcourt” you show him the picture, he eyes go to the picture of you having your head on his shoulder, and Eddie sees red.

“You guys are kinda close there” he points out

You notice his tone, but you ignore it. “Yeah, I thought it’d make a nice picture”

You hang up the picture next to the one of you and Eddie, which weirdly make eddies blood boil even more.

“So what’d you guys even talk about, aside from his ‘gel filled hair’ and his ‘good looks’” he does air quotes with his fingers as he says the words, his tone filled with something you can’t figure out

“What are you talking about?” You ask, starting to get a little annoyed

“Well the guys so obnoxious, I can’t imagine you guys had any fun with him talking about himself for the whole day”

You turned fully towards Eddie now, how could he talk about Steve like that?

“What the hell is wrong with you? Steve’s great and we had a really nice time yesterday just so you know. What are you jealous or something?” You ask with annoyance

Yeah. I am. The words hang on the tip of his tongue, but never come out.

“No. I just don’t think you should be hanging out with Mr. Everybody loves me” you start to walk away but Eddie follows you

“Yeah well I don’t see what my friendship with Steve has anything to do with you. Do you want me to butt in about you and Chrissy?” You say quickly, not even realising what you said

Eddie stops. What are you talking about?

“What do you mean, ‘you and Chrissy’ ?” He’s confused now, what did she have to do with this?

“Don’t act oblivious, I’ve seen the way you guys joke and laugh with each other, it’s fine it’s not got anything to do with me, but don’t go poking at my business with Steve when I could easily poke at your business with Chrissy”

You felt kind of bad talking about Chrissy like she wasn’t one of your best friends in the entire world, you didn’t feel hate towards her at all, you didn’t even feel hate towards Eddie. It was just all confusing.

“What ‘business’ with Chrissy? Last time I checked there was nothing going on between me and her”

“Really? You’re telling me the biggest rock lover I’ve ever met, who hates romcoms, agreed to go watch pretty in pink with the schools most popular cheerleader, just because he’s friends with her? Nothing more?”

“Yes. She wanted to get to know me better, so I suggested we go see a movie, I don’t see any problem with that”

You’re both now quiet, eventually you decide to give up. Eddies love life isn’t your business at the end of the day, all you could do now was rot in your room trying to get rid of your feelings for him.

“Okay, Fine. Do what you want. But you know Steve’s really great. You are too usually, when you’re not acting like an asshole.” You roll your eyes as you head over to your next class.

Eddie watches you as you leave, regret filling him as he goes over the words he said to you in his mind. He didn’t mean to make you mad, but what do you see in this guy? He’s been with loads of women before, how can you be sure he has good intentions.

*end of the school day*

As the day comes to an end Eddie makes it a mission to apologise to you, he felt like an idiot and didn’t mean to lash out at you. At the end of the day, Steve treats you well, and anyone who does is alright in his book. But why him?

What did Steve have that he didn’t? He had only known you for two years, eddies known you for almost all his life. He should be the one whose shoulder you have your head on. He should be the one taking you out for ice cream. He should be the one making you laugh.

Eddie goes and waits outside the school doors, remembering exactly where you go to after school

he lights up a cigarette, after a few minutes he hears your voice and looks behind him

You’re talking to robin as you two walk past him, he gets rid of his cigarette and walks towards you

“Heyyy ladies how are we” he puts one arm each on your guys shoulders

“What do you want?” You ask

“What I can’t say hello to you absolute rockstars?”

Robin looks to you and rolls her eyes, to which you laugh

“I’m gonna head home so I’ll see you guys monday” she smiled and heads off

“So princess you got anything planned tonight?”

“Eddie what are you doing?” You stop to turn to him

“Alright alright, I just wanted to say sorry for earlier, i just want you to be careful, you know better than I do that Harringtons an ass”

“He’s not, you just won’t bother to get to know him, but I’m not pissed at that, I’m pissed that you’ve been blatantly ignoring me for weeks and all of a sudden the moment you find out I have another guy friend you act like you own me?”

“I know I know, I don’t know why I acted like that, I just don’t want us to be weird with each-other. But, I didn’t realise you felt ignored, I’m sorry, me and Chrissy are just friends, and I promise I won’t make you feel like that again”

You look at Eddie, knowing he’s being sincere. “Thank you, and I’m sorry I shouldn’t be annoyed about you and Chrissy, I’m glad you two are friends”

Eddie stares at you, not even realising he was, but before anything else can be said, your name is heard

“Y/n!! You coming?” You both turn to find Steve in his car, ignoring everyone staring at where the noise came from

You give him a nod, but when you turn to Eddie he’s confused

“Oh, are you two hanging out?”

You respond, “oh no, he’s just dropping me off home”

Eddie nods slowly, “oh okay, well uh I’ll see you Monday then?”

You smile at him “see you Monday”

He watches as you walk away and get into Steve’s car, he doesn’t miss the way Steve stares daggers at him

He knows he’s fucked up. He wants to tell you that he thinks nothing of Chrissy. That they’re just friends. He didn’t even see you in that way before Steve came into the picture. he tells himself, which anyone can see is a big lie, because he’s liked you for years

He shifts himself from the spot he’s stood in, already thinking of ways to gain the confidence to tell you how he feels

eddies ending ⇦

steves ending ⇦

————————————————————————

thought I’d make different endings in case some thought reader should end up with Steve ♡︎

[127tko]

art dump bc this account has kinda just been sitting here and I don’t think each of them individually deserve their own posts tbhh :}

They’ll be sectioned and labeled for easy viewing and comprehension. All transformers content!!

…and I’m deeply sorry if the formatting ends up being hard to scroll through anyways im not quite versed in anything related to tumblr, this is my third post ever orz

First ever Optimus and Bee human designs I ever did (made after my first time watching TFPrime episodes 1 through like 9 with my friend)

Doodle ft the first ever (and I’m pretty sure only) Megatron concept

A small redesign after I made it farther into the series (around like the middle of season 2)

First ever Breakdown and Knockout!! They make me sick (it’s a mess I know - in my head Breakdown has just a giant braid it is very important to me. Think Osceola Redarm(the goat) from AoEx) (also important, if not for the fact that it would’ve been completely covered and incomprehensible, BDs shirt would’ve said Hello Nurse with a Red Cross on it - it’s KOs shirt)

New KO concepts and the start of a potential Starscream (im smirking)

Are they giving vampire bc I lowk wanted to channel vampire but I can’t tell if I failed or not

And finally… from out of the blue it’s StarBee. Sorry they’re both individually my favorite characters so I just… I put them together because I love them. There’s an entire au in my head and everything, hopefully I’ll find it in me to expand and share. It involves a death loop if anyone was curious :3

Plus a humanized bee that I put through the works because I love him, it’s a crime of passion

(Fun fact this was the first Mech I ever drew and you can tell becaus it’s not very Mech-esque ;*})

…I am still unaware on what constitutes effective tagging so sorry if it’s lackluster. I’m tying my best o7

[alphajocklover]

Commissions, Rules, Story Index and Other Information ————

Commissions Information

I only have 5 slots at a time, but that may expand even more one day. I charge 1 cent per word. Below is a link to my ‘commissions page’ (it’s a google doc) with all the details, including a list of what I won’t do, what I definitely will do, and how to contact me. If you’re interested, please DM me and let me know!

————

Firstly this is a Jockification blog. It’s mainly about turning nerds into alpha male jocks. That doesn’t mean I won’t do other transformations or go into other kinks. I’ve already done some slightly different things like the macro tf and the Muscle daddy tf stories, both of which I loved writing. But most of this stuff is going to be jock tfs. Just wanted to make that clear.

Now, onto what I absolutely will not do. These are off limits, and I’ll explain why too. I’m not here to kinkshame or anything but I write these stories for fun, and if I’m not into something then it’s so much harder to write about.

Anything that’s not 18+. I know this is a very controversial topic, and I want to be clear. I do not have issues with age play (although personally I don’t love to write about that stuff either). As long as there are no actual children involved in the making of an erotic piece of fiction, or you are encouraging people to actually do horrible things to kids, you can write whatever you want. But since it’s so controversial, and it is way too easy to write something that makes light of a traumatic experience, I would rather avoid that all together.

Rape. Once again I am not going to kink shame anyone. A lot of people have a rape kink, and that’s perfectly normal. As long as all parties are consenting and of age irl, you can do whatever you want in the bedroom. But once again it is incredibly easy to write something that offends and hurts people, and on a personal note I just don’t feel comfortable writing something like that. I’m not gonna claim that everything I write, with all the reality bending and changing identities, is perfectly consensual, but there’s a big difference between writing about impossible magic powers and writing about realistic rape, and I don’t feel comfortable crossing that line.

Beastiality and Animals. Once again not going to kink shame anyone. And I want to stress I’m not talking about furrys or pup play or whatever. I’m talking about actual beastiality. You can write and read whatever you want as long as it’s not hurting people, but as far as I’m concerned animals can’t consent, so I won’t be writing anything with them in it. I’m also not entirely comfortable with human to animals tfs. Those are just not my thing.

Bathroom stuff and Smegma. This one is less complicated. I just don’t write this kink because I don’t like it. Watersports and scat and smegma all do nothing for me. Just a personal preference.

Real person Fiction. Once again it’s nothing personal. Plenty of people love real person fiction. I just feel so awkward writing about real live people. So I avoid it. Fanfiction about characters is another story.

Inanimate and Body part TF. I don’t really understand why, but these types of transformations make me uncomfortable. Really it’s just my preference.

Entirely Female Focused TFs: I am a gay man, and have a harder time writing erotic stories about women. While I can write about straight sex and women, I prefer to keep men as the focus, or at least have them heavily involved.

Gender TFs: I know this will probably upset some people, but I’ve personally just never enjoyed gender change tfs. Perhaps I will experiment with it one day, but not now.

Racial Slurs: While I do like raceplay and racial changes, I will not include slurs I cannot reclaim in my work. 

That’s all there is for my big limits. If theres anything else you’re unsure of and want to check, just DM me. I won’t judge, the worst I’ll do is say no. I hope all this serious talk didn’t upset anyone. More stories coming soon!

Will update as needed!

Just a reminder that I am up for story suggestions, questions, and DMs. I especially want story prompts because I’d love the opportunity to make more stories for you guys. I’m also open for trades if anyone is interested

————

Blogger Backup

My Blogger Blog, where I backup all of my stories, can be found here.

————

Story Index

Below is a list of my bigger stories and ongoing series. I'll be doing this chronologically, and adding to it periodically! I'll be listing some kinks that are controversial or unusual for my blog next to each story they are in. I won't be marked G2S because I use that a lot. I hope this helps you guys get around my page better!

SuperNova TFs | A person makes a wish on a SuperNova

Older Brothers (My first story!) (involves incest)

Unmoved (involves bisexual sex)

Stereotypical

Professor to Frat Bro

Supernova Comedian (Political Play)

End of the World (100th Story Special!)

Wake Up | The true self awakens, and spreads

Wake up Bro

Wake up Pops

Marvel TFs | TFs themed around Marvel Characters. Not all connected

No longer a Spider, finally a Man (Implied relationship between a student and teacher)

Possessed by the Power of Thor (Giantism)

Like the Hulk

Like Wolverine

InstaJock TFs | A mysterious app that jockifies users.

InstaJock Introduction

InstaJock: A Small Glitch

InstaJock: On The Go

InstaJock: Details and Settings (Race TF, Asian)

InstaJock: Payback

Revert Mind

InstaJock: Preview

InstaJock: Research and Frats

InstaJock: Tricking a Thief

InstaJock: Regional

InstaJock: Secondhand

InstaJock: Girls

AlphaJock?!

InstaJock: Boyfriends

InstaJock: Double Friend Request (Race TF, Asian)

InstaJock: Sexuality

InstaJock: The Master and Mysteries

InstaJock: Other Apps (And First Year Anniversary QNA!)

InstaJock: Feed the Youth? (Male Lactation Kink, Muscle Tits) InstaJock: Pirate Link (Race TF, Asian)

Alpha with a Capital A | A look into literal Alphas

Alpha with a Capital A intro

Alpha with a Capital A: Sexuality

Alpha with a Capital A: Alphas and Gender (Transgender Character and physical gender transition)

Gay Couple to Straight Beta Bros

Greaser Alpha

Alpha with a Capital A: Big bro and Lil bro

Asian Alpha Bro

Jock Studies | Coaches and their brainwashed Jocks

Jock Studies: Swimming Coach

Straight to Gay

The role of Coaches

Assistant Coaches and Baseball

Eye of Beholder (EB) Jewelry | Jewelry Company with a secret

Engaged

Science Teacher to Football Coach

EB Jewelry: New CEO

EB Jewelry: The New COO

AirBFnBF

EB Jewelry: My Friend and Gauges

EB Jewelry: Dog Tags and Brothers

The Best Club in Town | Gay clubs and their members are turned straight

The Best Club in Town

The Douchebag Revolution | Time traveling fight over your right to be a straight douche

Welcome to the Revolution

Douche Rehab

1,000 Follower Special, The Douchebag Revolution Begins

The Hometown Hex | The town where everyone is a jock. Everyone

The Hometown Hex

Baxter Beach

500 Followers Special: Wally's Visit

Made for This Town

The Hometown Hex: Exports

The Ranch

BDE: Big Dick Energy | Literal BDE causes changes

An intro to BDE

BDE: How it Works

BDE: Extreme Buildup and Infection BDE: A First Hand Frat Experience

Retsam Mirror | Swapped with your selection. By force

Retsam Mirror

Trapped

My Uncle | Lore on my character, and his journey to save his Uncle

My Uncle

My Uncle: A Follow Up

Nick the Devil | A friend (Boyfriend) of my characters Uncle, whose a literal Devil

Nick the Devil

Douchebags and Souls

Pornstars and Doppelgangers

The Church | Evil Church converts people into new member

The Church (Semi-religious themes)

Potions Set | I gave an Actor a bunch of potions. I hope it works out...

Getting the Role

Camous | Those who change to fit in

Camous

The Master | The Man behind InstaJock and my Uncles Transformation. The Big Bad.

InstaJock: Going Viral (@occamstfs Occams 2000 challenge entry)

The Drunken Chameleon | A TF Bar

The Perfect Bar for You

Halloween TFs | Halloween themed transformations! Returns every October!

Personal Transformations | Transformations my character performs | references other stories

Miscellaneous Stories | Stories without a series or common theme

————

I hope you guys like this! It took a lot of work putting this index together. If you have any questions or ideas, or just want to, dm me! Total stories: 112

[xcalkenf]

౨ৎ — PRETTY BOY ! [ switch!choso x reader]

౨ৎ — warnings . 18+ / smut (obviously) / soft-dom ish f reader / switch choso! / bondage (shibari) / choso with pink ribbons around his biceps <3 / overstimulation / choso crying / anal plug / cock rubbing & edging / cum eating / p in v / riding / cockwarming / aftercare / reassurance / praises / safeword was made between two !

౨ৎ — note . okay, this was written in my notes from 2 until 3 am (actually being serious) inspired by a Twitter vid I watched >< it was sooo good !! also, y’all can’t change my mind on switch!choso. He’s both, the thought of him being only a sub/top is just not.. satisfying enough 😓🤭

౨ৎ — wc . 1.3k

౨ৎ

“D-do I really have to be like this..?” Choso mumbled, face flushed -feeling embarrassed to see his nude body resting on top of the bed with pillows supporting his back. His hands were bound on his back, thighs spread, chest wrapped by ropes, and his biceps wrapped by adorable pink ribbons.

“Mhm.. you want to be a good boy, right, Choso?” You kissed your boyfriend’s mark on his nose, when you mentioned his name, his entire body shivered, well jus’ a little, and he nodded, "Yes, mommy."

As you were ready to insert a plug into him, he stopped you, “Wait! w-will that h-hurt?..” he asked.

“It's hard to say for sure, but moving around might hurt a little, but you'll get used to it, I promise.” You say, and Choso swallowed hard as he pictured what pain he was going to experience in his hole. As he felt the glass heart-shaped plug go into his hole, his sculpted thighs began to expand.

"Wait, that hurts.. Go gently", He became anxious, but when you insert it more slowly, allowing him to adjust, he soon calms down.

When you glance at his lower abdomen, you can see that he's panting heavily and that he's breathing and sighing heavily.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go hard on you, pretty boy”

"You're doing so good for me, cho~" As you slowly turned the plug around, without moving too quickly or roughly, you purred.

Choso blushed heavily, feeling the strange object inside him as well as embarrassment. With a nervous look away, he muttered, "It feels weird, baby.." He could feel the burning sensation building up in his cheeks. "Do you want me to stop? Remember the safeword, Cho?" You asked, and he shook his head, "N-no, don't stop.. Yes, I-I do remember", You nodded.

You continued to playfully tease Choso, occasionally grazing his sensitive skin or tugging gently on the ribbon tied around his bicep.

Each touch sent adrenaline down his spine, causing him to squirm even more. "Please, stop teasing me," he begged, reaching for your face to kiss you, only to have you pull away and press your pointer finger against his lips.

"No, I'll kiss you when I want to, cho" you say with a giggle while he stared at you with furrowed eyebrows.

You enjoy seeing him like this, completely under control and wanting your attention. "Such a needy little thing," you muttered, tracing invisible patterns on his chest while sitting on his lap, completely dressed, not like him, bare.

You sit in front of him, stroking his cock with one hand while fondling his balls with the other, all while maintaining eye contact. Your hand moves from his balls to his thigh, massaging it, the other hand stopping at his tip and then twisting and holding it for a little while. He throws back his head and groans with pleasure. You're aware of his extreme sensitivity in the thigh area, which might lead to his orgasm occurring quickly. His slit is sensitive, so you press down on it with your pointer finger, making him wriggle. You're applying pressure to both of his vulnerable spots. “W-Wait, that's dirty, I'm sensitive too. Slow down. Don't touch both..” Between breaths, he says the words. He makes a high-pitched whine as you continue to rub them.

As you stroked Choso, he groaned many times and uncontrollably bucked his hips. He loved the sensation of your hands on him, especially in combination with your kept gaze. He whispered, "Please," his eyes begging for your attention. You wanted to see how fucked out he was before letting him cum, so you thought about holding off on letting him climax for a few times. Which you did. Three times. -

"I can't take much more, really, babe -ngh" His muscles tensing up as you've repeatedly edged him, strong muscles nearly ripping the ropes off. As he was about to finally rip them off, you said, "No breaking ropes cho, you’re doing really great.”

With an arrogant grin, you continued to edge him for precisely thirty-five minutes, knowing just what would push him over the edge. Choso's muscles tensed as a wave of pleasure passed over him, and his breathing became quicker.

“Oh, oh, oh! I'm cumming, I'm cumming!” You stroke his cock faster just as he began to cum, staring at his release. You watch the thick white and milky strings spurt out of his cock, eyes glowing in admiration. 

“That's it, Choso,” you cooed, loving the sight of him writhing beneath you. “Come for me, my pretty boy.”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, fuck, -angh!”Another high pitched moan came out of his dirty, yet lovely mouth.

He kept releasing his seeds over and over again, not stopping after what you felt had been at least a minute and twenty seconds since he finally came after an hour of edging. Choso thought it was over, but he was wrong.

He felt your warm mouth wrap around his length, your hand slowly drawing out the plug and thrusting it back into his hole with force. “Fuck, wait, no, sensitive, no- I'm sensitive fuckkk,” he threw his head back, tears and spit streaming down his face.

You hummed. That vibration sent Choso over the brink again just minutes after he arrived; it was painful yet so good. He's overstimulated, moaning again and again as he feels your tongue everywhere, sucking him off and swallowing his cum preventing it from spilling out. You took off the butt plug out of his hole, and left it on the floor.

When you were swallowing, you kept a bit in your mouth. Standing up and softly kissing him, allowing him to taste himself and his cum. Tongue intertwined, it was a very sloppy kiss. You put your right hand on his chin and grip it. The other strips your underwear and sits on your knees, adjusting his cock to your entrance.

You were adjusting yourself, closing your eyes, focussing on kissing his lips and down below, not noticing Choso had removed the ropes off him. When his hands unexpectedly pushed you down forcibly on his cock, you yelped and made out muffled moans of pleasure as Choso leans back, your hands on his shoulder for support.

“Fuck- feel so good, cho,” you exclaimed, immediately undoing your buttons and stripping to your bra and miniskirt. He stopped the kiss and looked at you with lust and thirst.

“Your insides feel so warm, I'm going to come again...” “So tight,” he whispered before locking his lips on your collarbone and biting everywhere, leaving hickeys that would remain for days.

You bounced on his cock, supported by your partner's thrusts and the hands around your waist. You press your eyes tight and allow your orgasm to build with his.

“Cho ‘m so close…”

“Me too baby, ngh” The two of you moaned together, and you pressed your sweaty foreheads against one other as ecstasy gushed over you; finally, you opened your eyes and kissed each other, still bouncing on his cock, but a little slower than before. You can feel his cock jerking wildly, sending vibrations down into your core/cervix.

You continue till hours have passed. There you were cockwarming him: “Stay like this for a little longer, please.” He begged, and you nodded before wrapping your arms around him. The two of you remained in that position for some time before getting off to clean up.

You prepared a warm bath while Choso laid on his back, staring at the marks left by the ropes that restrained him. He looked up and across his body to discover a pink ribbon still tied around one of his biceps, which he thought was cute.

Maybe he’ll do the same thing to you next time because you pushed him too hard today, it did felt good though.

a/n p.2 | The fact that this only took me an hour to write scares me. Hope you enjoy this one more than my prev work <3

@xstom on tumblr 2024, do not repost/copy/translate this post!

creds to the divider owner!

[sthavoc]

maybe the podcast he went on where they're talking about what the hair tie on his wrist meant and he's like "i mean it's my hair tie but i do have a girlfriend, it's not a secret just more private" and then with him loving lamps he says his girlfriend loves them and hates big lights so she has so many lamps and candles all around the house. basically him gushing about his girly and the hosts being like "estas enamoradoooo" and him blushing

𖦁ׅ ࣪ ׂ 🕯️𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

𖥔 ࣪˖ pairing: enzo x fem!reader

𖥔 ࣪˖ summary: Enzo talks about your obsession with lamps and candles around your home on the podcast. And also the significance of the hair tie on his wrist.

𖥔 ࣪˖ warnings: nothing but fluff on this one

𖥔 ࣪˖ note: this is so cute! thank you for the request and I hope this is somewhat of what you were looking for anon<3 I honestly kind of improvised the podcast bc I don’t remember everything they said. it is 1 am where I live and I should be sleeping but I can’t…

“Bueno, pero me acabo de acordar.” Carlos points at Enzo’s hair tie letting out a laugh at the remembering he just had making Mariang laugh as well, but causing Enzo to look confused. “Hay un tweet donde sale una foto tuya en el ascensor y sales con la goma para el pelo.” He continued to point at the hair tie, and Enzo only remained more confused.

“Sí, para atarme el pelo.” Enzo nods and tugs the hair tie on his wrist. “Obvio.”

“Y el tweet ponía “chicas” tres puntos.” Mariang adds.

Enzo only appeared more baffled at the fact that his fans tweeted about a hair tie that was on his wrist.

“¿Que significa eso?” Enzo questioned glimpsing at Carlos who was ready to answer back.

“Que era de alguna chica con la que estás implicado.”

“No, pero es mía. Para atarme el pelo.” He looks at the hair tie and points at it.

“Bueno entonces, ¿das por finalizada que la goma es tuya?” Carlos laughed throughout his sentence as he looked at Enzo glanced at his hair tie another time.

“Sí, Y-yo creo que es mía. Bueno tengo novia, no es secreto, pero la goma es mía, pero ya ese tema es más privado.” He taps the surface of the table as he inclines his head towards the side for a short second.

“Bueno, pues gracias por aclarar. Cambiando de tema,” Mariang laughs pushing her mic a bit forward.

The three of them proceeded to talk about the movie and other random topics they would hit in the conversation. Like appealing to Enzo about his fans and any random app he had on his phone. Until they caught up with the topic about the money and how they would waste it on all kinds of things. Mariang spoke of the topic of furniture.

“A mí también me gustan los muebles.” Enzo nods along.

“Ah ¿a ti también? ¿Cuál es tu mueble favorito?” Mariang added to the subject as Enzo thought of his response.

“Las lámparas.” He speaks making Mariang nod along as she approves that was also her favorite type of furniture.

“¿Cuál es tu tipo de luz?” She questioned intrigued.

“Cálida, siempre.” Enzo retorts with no doubt in his voice. “Mi novia fue la que hizo que me gustaran de echo.” He chooses to add, with a tsk of his tongue.

“¿En serio? Ay, suena cool tu novia eh.” Mariang gushed grinning at the mention of you.

Enzo’s smile was followed by a nod and a few phrases. “Sí. Ella está obsesionada con las lámparas y las velas también. Como odia las luces así grandes pues tiene toda la casa llena de velas y lámparas.” He expanded his hands in a way of illustrating the big lights.

You were just like him and hated white lighting. It made your eyes burn, and you personally thought it ruined the warmth feeling of a home. Plus you had always wanted your place to have tons of candles and lamps around it.

“Ay pero qué linda. Me da las vibes de que es muy tranquila.” Carlos nods while Mariang agrees with him.

Enzo’s heart only swelled at the thought of you, and how you would look when lighting up the candles around your house. The times when you would have music playing on your radio and you would dance around turning them on.

“Sí, lo es. Se pone contenta al comprar nuevas velas o algún tipo de lámpara. También compra de pura luz cálida.” Enzo spoke into the mic as he kept his contact with Carlos and Mariang who paid attention to him. “Transmite paz. Es un amor.”

“Pero tío, ¡si estás enamorado!” Mariang signaled with her hand towards Enzo who chuckled. Not hiding the fact that he was turning red.

There was no lie in Mariang’s words. He was very much in love with you.

“Entonces espera, ¿la foto tuya donde estás con las plantas y una lamparita es en su casa?” Carlos asked out of curiousness.

“Sí. se le había caído y me pidió que se la arreglara.” Enzo responded.

“Ay pero qué lindo.” Mariang lets out with a cute tone. Enzo nodded with a small smile carved on his lips remembering the moment of you two.

“¿Y siempre le han gustado las lámparas?” Carlos asked before he took a sip of his drink.

For you, there was not a time where you did not like lamps or candles. They were one of your sources of happiness and personal warmth. So Enzo’s response was—

“La verdad que sí. Desde que la conozco siempre le han gustado. Recuerdo que la primera vez que entré a su casa me dijo “No te asustes” Y yo como ¿Pero por qué me voy a asustar?” Enzo furrowed his brows with the smallest of smiles.

“Claro.” Carlos nodded.

“Ya hasta que entre y vi las lámparas y velas.” Enzo chuckles at the memory. “Pero ahora que veo una lamparita o una vela por ahí me acuerdo de ella. Hasta le compré una.” He mentions with a raise of eyebrows.

“Hay ¿en serio? ¿Le dijiste? no vaya a ser que vea el podcast y se arruine la sorpresa.” Mariang looked at the camera making both Enzo and Carlos laugh. Enzo shook his head before he spoke—

“No, sí le dije y está contenta. Espera con ansia su lamparita.”

“Que bonito.” Carlos spoke peacefully into his mic.

Enzo knew you would love your new lamp, and he couldn’t wait to see your face and how it would brighten against the warm light.

[ahhhwomen]

Mom, I'm tired.

Vampire Empire

Part 2

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Alright, so this writing style is not what I am used to, so feedback is definitely welcome. Due to me being unsure of this style I wanted to take a little longer to write part 2, but since yall liked part 1 so much I decided a shorter chapter was in order, I am already working on part 3, but yall gotta tell me how you feel about this one. Oh... and don't hate me for what i am about to do...

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death Minors DNI 18+

Summary: You just want to rest.

Word Count: 1.4k

You don’t know what is happening, why- you try to pull in a desperate breath, but still, nothing. Why- why was this happening? What is happening?

Why can’t you move?!

The lesser scary of the two redheads secures herself tighter against you, now supporting your full weight. She has to shift from a crouched-down position to sitting completely in your little enclosure. Her ankle awkwardly bends beneath her thigh. The rough ground fraying her expensive dress pants.

There is a sensation like concrete pouring through your veins, you can hear your heartbeat slow, and immense pressure start building behind your eyes, but you are desperate for control over something, anything. So, as much as it pains you, you tiredly let your eyes roam around the room while trying to avoid the blank stare from the taller redhead.

Your vision takes in the scenery that has unfolded in your space, you drape your eyes over the walls, the horror of your evening with Master painted like a masterpiece, you then take a risk and slowly run your eyes over the lower half of the woman in front of you.

Wanda is standing like a woman in power, her feet spaced apart hip to hip, spreading her weight perfectly between the pair of high, amber, heels. There was a slight scuff to one of them, a chip in the plastic, whatever fell earlier must have fallen on that heel, you doubt she would walk around with an imperfect pair if not. You swirl your eyes to the ground beside her, a tusk of brown hair having caught your attention.

That’s when you see it. Staring right back at you are the lifeless eyes of the seller. Or at least that is the only name you have for him.

It’s at that moment that the reality of the situation finally sets in.

 

You go to let out a high-pitched whine, but no sound is made, and for the first time in a long time, you have this desperate need to cry.

You can’t even do that.

You don’t want to die.

Not like this.

You want to smell the fresh air in the cold mornings, you want to feel the sand beneath your toes, you want to taste the richness of vanilla inside a simple frozen dish, and you want to live. If only for a moment longer.

But-

There is nothing you can do.

Your body loses all will to fight, and you give up.

Wanda keeps track of your vitals while under her control, she doesn't want to hurt you, but you are out of line, and frankly, your behavior unsettles the redhead.

When she can see the fight drain from your eyes, she releases you.

She sighs as the strain in her muscles loosens, and she moves her neck from left to right, removing the remaining tenseness. A prickle in her spine begs her to stretch out her entire body, but this was neither the time nor place, though she does put a pin in it, maybe she should order a massage sometime soon.

As for you, there is no sign that you are back in control except for the desperate gasping for air.

You don’t know what to do with this newfound freedom, Romanoff´s hands are keeping you close to her, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear, but suddenly it’s all too much. The only thing you can do is let your ribcage expand and contract at a rapid pace, the pain grounds you as your bruised ribs sting you.

You no longer fight against Natasha’s grip, and there is no chance that you will either.

You are scared, they can both feel it, but it’s not like it was a moment ago. A moment ago you were fighting to stay alive, fighting because it is your instinct to do so, now, you have given up on even that.

Now, you are just scared, plain and simple.

Natasha rubs her hands up and down your back slowly, the fabric of her silken shirt bunches up with her elbows, and the roll of textile slides against your skin rhythmically. Your body tenses and relaxes at strange intervals, there is a mistrust between her motive and your tender flesh, yet you still crave comfort.

That is until you see Wanda shift from one foot to the other and Natasha’s hands move too close to your collar, you strain your body away from her palms.

Natasha huffs in slight annoyance and shifts her attention to her wife, “What was that?”.

She tries to keep her voice quiet enough to not startle you, but it’s a futile attempt and shortly after she has opened her mouth you are crawling out of her arms and back into your corner.

She can tell it pains you to move, the bruises along your arms and legs making it difficult to crawl in a fluid motion, and she sees you struggle your way under the lamp, but you manage. In the end, you swiftly slump back into the position you laid in when they first got here, the only difference being that you are too tired to move the rag back over your body.

Wanda merely shrugs, her perfectly fitted suit ruffling with the movement, “She was becoming aggressive.” To be truthful, your sudden outburst had taken Wanda by surprise, she didn’t even know what she was saying until it was too late.

Natasha sighs before standing and walking up to her wife, her pants now scuffed and dirtied. She brushed herself down, but the filth of this place wasn’t one easily removed. She gets a hold of her bearings and stands straight before she bothers with a disappointed reply.

“She was just scared, “ she shakes her head disapprovingly. They have lived long enough to see all types of people. And Natasha knows you're type, scared, abused, and skittish. A dog in the fighting ring, or a cat in this case.

Anything can make you snap and bare your teeth.

However, she also knows that taking your right to do so away, will only worsen your behavior in the long run. It never helps to use fear against someone who is already terrified.

Again, Wanda does nothing but shrugs and lifts her jacket to glance at her watch.

Playtime is over, they have places to be, and it saddens Wanda, but she knows they won’t be leaving here with a pretty girl like she had hoped.

It´s best for Natasha that she rips the band-aid off fast.

Wanda points over at your shaking body, “It’s clear Carol has her eyes on her. You know we can’t keep her.”

Wanda slumps in on herself while saying it, her shoulders lower and her back bows unnaturally, the seams of her suit stretching and pulling against the tight movement. After the words have been put out there, Natasha's face shifts and morphs until she settles for a relatively neutral, but rather grim expression. The right side of her lip lifted into a slight sneer; this was an unfortunate situation.

Natasha looks down at her hands, hands she had just held you in, there are specs of dried blood and dirt covering the expanse of her palms, she tightens her fist and takes a slow breath.

Carol is already enough of a handful. Taking her punching bag away from her will only make matters worse.

Leased pet or not, Carol owns you.

So, Natasha nods curtly, the back of her shirt rubbing uneasily against the nape of her neck.

“Well, let’s go then.” With no regard to the body at her heels she steps over the man and continues to strut down the hall with her wife following shortly behind. Someone will be by to clean him up and replace him with another pawn, it’s the way these places work.

And if she took a moment to listen in on your heartbeat one last time before they left, it wouldn’t hurt anyone that she kept that to herself.

It sounded wrong.

Whatever sympathy Natasha felt for you was quickly squashed down and ignored as she and Wanda returned to business as usual.

It’s for the best, a pet would only make them weak.

After the two mysterious women leave, you curl into yourself and a sob breaks through you before you can stop it.

Mom, I'm tired.

[drewdoa]

𒈔 ⸺ enforcer agenda ♡ viktor hcs/blurbs

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ a/n: hey there :)) happy new year!!! i’ve been gone for a little bit cause busy with family >.< BUT IM BACK WITH STUFF YAY!! i should be on my writing grind now that i’ll have spare time during school and such so i should be back to normal :D!! i hope you enjoy these blurbs cause they’re honestly my favorite

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ extra info: no gender specific reader!, a bit of flirtation, you’re in an enforcer uniform/gear, implied nsfw

ꕥ —

vik is so used to seeing people in uniform, but never in a billion years would he expect you to turn bluebelly! you’ve expressed before that enforcers make you feel some kind of way, you’ve seen what they’ve done to the people of zaun. however, caitlyn thought you could use some training incase something turned sideways. she suggested you train with the enforcers to learn a thing or two, which honestly isn’t a bad idea at all. so you took up the offer.

you knew viktor would get a kick out of this, you becoming stronger and in that heavy outfit. you could already hear his slick and funny comments in your head, teasing you and hints of flirting. at the end of the day, you still know he’d still have you arched like the bridge of progress.

rotting away in his lab as the sound of chalk scraping against his board travels around the sound waves. normally, viktor doesn’t bat an eye at the sound of the metal gear tapping across the halls nearby. until the sound of the tall wood doors that hide the lab cracked open, steps gradually getting louder. “you know, it’s just etiquette knocking before entering, don’t you agree?” viktor spat before turning his back and facing you. he stood there for a moment before placing down his pencil behind him.

“you-” he paused, relaxing his shoulders and taking the sight of you in. “look good. who gave you that?” the rest of his sentence flew out as he began to circle around you. “i got it from caitlyn’s closet, she surprisingly has bigger sizes but that’s probably cause of vi”

“no complaints here, it fits you perfectly” viktor follows with a laugh. this lead to you coming into his lab often when you’ve got some extra time on your hands. even if it’s just to go in there and give him a kiss :)) (where you kiss him is up to you😋)

he 100% pulls you in with his cane, especially when you’re stuck guarding the hallways and can’t be caught slipping. coincidently, viktor had a spare moment and dedicated it all to you. let’s just say when you were back on duty your uniform looked like you’d been roughing it ;).

oh you’d so catch him wearing the uniform cause it smells like you. he wants anything that resembles you at all. gotta out him here, definitely a pervert to take your underwear and stash it in a box along with all your other personal things. he just wants reminders of you all the time <3 (this is also foreshadowing him tying one of your old shirts around his cane :)))

no surprises when it comes to viktors hidden talents, he would definitely take a blank book and write all of his thoughts about you in it. he’d think of it as his prized possession, never leaving it out of his sight, and especially keeping it away from you. viktor couldn’t bare the embarrassment honestly, imagining you reading the filthy things he’s written about you sends a chill down his spine. but its viktor we’re talking about here, he’d probably enjoy that. <3

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ hello!!! i feel like this was just a bit short but i have a few fics i’ll be releasing as soon as im finished up with them ! you pt 2 in the works as well for all you viktor lovers just like me <33 and im working on expanding my writing and will be working on stuff for new characters >v< hopefully you can stick around till then, thank you for reading - drew

[python333]

dayshift — python³

― ― ― ―

synopsis a continuation of "after hours".

relationships platonic!ghost & reader.

characters simon "ghost" riley.

word count 4.5k.

warnings obsessive behavior, mentions of previous stalking, bad mental health that isn't explored + ghost is essentially an enabler, alternating povs.

note lets ignore that i went radio silent for 4 months... also i uploaded this to ao3 as a chapter 2 to "after hours" for anyone curious! enjoy :3

part 1 | part 2

Your photography room has never looked worse.

There’s several polaroids scattered across the floor. A few tubs of water have been thrown across the room, the spillage reaching the photos and damaging them beyond repair. The red light flickers. It casts dramatic shadows across your face and highlights the wrinkles in your clothes though it hides the dark spots beneath your eyes, and it especially illuminates the immediate condensation that takes place every time you exhale. The room is usually kept at medium temperatures, since you’re too scared of damaging the pictures, but during your tantrum, one of the water tubs you threw must’ve hit a button on the thermostat that lowered the temperature. 

The cold is supposed to make the ink in the pictures expand and eventually leak from the plastic confines of the film itself. It’s only a matter of time until your photos are ruined. The photos that date back all the way to last summer, all of Simon, who, shockingly, triggered your tantrum. Just thinking of him makes your eye twitch. You find it hard not to get mad at him, especially after how frustrating he’s made your observing, as if it’s just some kind of game to him. Your harsh breaths create a harsh contrast to the quiet thumping of your heart that’s loud enough to reach your ears, and the gentle trembling of your limbs forces you to lean against the wall. You’d rather he just be mad and not want anything to do with you at this point. It’d be so much easier for you if that was the case. 

Ever since Simon confronted you about your “stalking”, he’s been coming more frequently. Just about every week now, usually requesting bacon and some kind of fish. He gets more talkative every time. More willing to share his personal life, his past, what he hopes for in the future, what he plans to make with each item he buys, hell, sometimes even jokes around with you―it’s torture. It’s torture because you don’t know how to react to it. You’ve spent so long treating him like a hobby, something you can choose to focus on or stray from, but all of a sudden, he’s decided to share so much of himself that you feel like it’s all you can focus on. You can’t handle so much information about your subject. 

It’s caused a few meltdowns over the past few weeks. 

Every so often, whether it be at work while sharpening knives, at home trying to sleep, or even walking down the street with your headphones on playing the sweet sounds of ocean waves and rain to calm you, you’ll remember that he knows. He’s known. It disturbs you and makes that knife slip in your hands, scares your circadian rhythm into deviance, and forces those waves to crash into rocks as the rain turns to thunder. Everything feels out of order, the puzzle pieces of your mind scattered and a few missing, with you unable to solve why or how exactly everything went so wrong. Why you feel so wrong. Why, out of everything, the thing that bothers you the most is that unsettling feeling of the ever-so present fact that Simon is painfully aware of your tendency to follow. 

You lean against the wall and slide down into a sitting position, your knees reaching your chest and your arms automatically wrapping around yourself in lieu of a hug. You wish it was him. For the quickest moment, you wish it were his arms around you instead, his calloused fingers stretched over your back and his rough palms rubbing circles into your lats. The thought makes your hands tremble and your gaze shifts to the ruined film strewn across the room, the flickering red light overhead reflecting off of each polaroid, the faint sound of water dripping from the counters crossing with the buzzing of the lightbulb. You let out a shaky breath and hold yourself a little tighter, allowing your head to fall limp ahead of you, your forehead resting on your knees. 

It’s ridiculous how much this affects you. How much he affects you. 

— 

Simon considered that maybe you stayed home today, the idea of you falling ill worrying him, but after checking your flat, he found nothing but your keys missing and your lack of presence. Therefore, you must be in your shop. However, your shop is currently closed. 

He could break in. He’s done it before, after closing once you’d gone home, and snooped around your little photography room curiously. He was, admittedly, mildly impressed with some of the photos―a few of them he didn’t even notice, though many of them he can recall seeing you out of the corner of his eye or hearing a faint click behind him―but otherwise indifferent to each one. He hadn’t taken any but was tempted, just to maybe let you know that he’d been there long enough to steal something, but decided against it; he’d tortured you enough with his much-too-dramatic confrontation. You don’t need any more stress. Even he knows that, despite not being the best at showing it. 

There’s no lights on in the shop. Nothing that hints at your presence, nor anything that invites his own in, but the feeling in his gut tells him to just go in through the back door and hope to God nobody sees him. Simon sighs and looks around haphazardly, not seeing anyone out in the open, and walks as casually as he can around the back of the butchery. There’s a door the same color as the wall, with a small handle rusting at the edges and a lock that barely functions. I would remind you to fix it, but it would give me away, he thinks, I’ll just replace it myself one of these days. 

He easily opens the door without a key, the rusting lock giving into the slightest force worryingly quick. It turns inwards, and Simon walks into the room, closing the door behind him and reaching for the string on the side of the wall. He pulls on it and the overhead bulb flickers before turning on, an orange-yellow glow casting the room in a decent amount of light, making the cleaning tools and chemicals visible. Simon ignores all of this and instead reaches for the door, opening it before walking out into the dimly lit kitchen. It’s freezing, and the white lights cast an even glow onto the counter, reflecting off of the metal surface and illuminating the clean table. Simon looks around, and to his disappointment, you’re nowhere to be seen. Despite this, he moves on and searches for the next door, eventually finding the one that leads out into the main shop. He soon finds himself clicking the door shut behind him whilst being behind the counter you typically are. The role reversal feels strange, the new view of looking outside the shop rather than gazing inside as he usually would.

Simon makes his way towards the end of the counter and finds yet another door, though it’s locked with a slightly better lock than the last. It looks newer rather than an old lock that’s simply held up well over the time you’ve had it, so he assumes it’s been changed recently. It would make sense, considering it's the lock that guards your oh-so-precious photography room—or, at least, the stairs down to it. He hesitates, his hand hovering over the door, balled up into a fist with his knuckled readied in front of the door, about to knock. 

He can hear something. It’s shuffling. Maybe some soft breaths, the tell-tale hitch of them a sign of your distress―something Simon’s not particularly proud to know of―and a tell-tale sign that maybe Simon should leave you alone. He’s not a sadist; he doesn’t enjoy seeing you upset. It’s satisfying at most, knowing your remorse for your stalking, knowing that you’re guilty enough to be so upset over it. Assuming that that’s the reason you’re so upset, of course. He thinks it’s a good show of character, or a nice way of knowing that you don’t have the worst intentions. And maybe, going by that logic, Simon isn’t the best person―but he’s willing to go without remorse if it means that he feels no guilt keeping you safe. 

Simon steps back from the room, his hand dropping to his side. He sighs and walks around the counter, heads towards the front door, and flips the misleading ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ before he walks out. Even if you’re not closed, he can’t imagine you’d want any customers while you’re in the middle of whatever you’re doing. Your photography room is important to you, or so he assumes; he can’t imagine there’s many things that would draw you away from the room besides him. The room is so clean it almost annoys him. The organized nature of it all, the pictures of him strung up and strewn across the room so perfectly, the drawers filled with camera film and different camera lenses―the sight of it seems so wrong, knowing the less-than-perfect hobbies the room provides sanctuary for. 

He can’t imagine you breaking down in there. It’s aphantasic, how little he can visualize any sort of mess taking place in the room. He wonders if you break down often in that room. If you find it safer than your house. If, sometimes, when your store is closed for no apparent reason on an average, festiveless day, the true reason behind its closure is the fact that you’re too busy crying over lost potential photos and an unpredictable tomorrow in your little safe room in the same place meant to be your workspace to open up shop. He, quite frankly, can’t imagine something more pathetic than being so swept up in your own sorrow created by your own mistakes that you could’ve so easily avoided had you not done an objectively disgusting act.

And, for whatever reason, that patheticism is the exact reason Simon finds himself heading towards the local hardware store, a new lock and some WD-40 on his mind. 

— 

It’s been two days. You wake up in your photography room. The floor is wet and your clothes are wet and you hate the feeling of your clothes sticking to your skin. You slept here last night, after going home the previous night to sleep in an actual bed, then came back here in the morning to spend another day mourning the pictures you ruined and the potential friendship you threw away by acting so recklessly. By being so obvious. You’re about one more mistake away from hopping off the nearest bridge with a ball and chain wrapped around your ankle.

You push yourself up by your elbows, and eventually the palms of your hands make contact with the ground, then you’re sitting up with your legs outstretched at awkward angles. Your knees hurt when you bend them, and as you try to push yourself up, you have to stop and breathe for a bit to get a handle on your pain. It’s not the worst you’ve felt. Far from it, honestly. But for some reason, this little thing keeps making you stumble, keeps making you hesitate in pushing yourself up, your knees feeling as unstable as a fawn and your frame as shaky as a leaf in the wind. When you finally manage to completely push yourself up, your femur feels as though it’s barely attached to your tibia; the two bones are balanced so unevenly that it feels like you’re standing on stilts. 

The doorbell rings and you curse out loud. Rather loud, in fact, for the small room you’re in. You already sense who it is. You’re not in the mood for this, already knowing what’s bound to happen, and despite this, you make your way out of the ruined room and up the stairs. Lo and behold, 

Simon stands at the counter, waiting for you to get behind the other end of the counter to take his order. You do so, putting on a pair of latex gloves before speaking.

“What are you looking for today?” you ask politely, slipping on the black gloves, leaning forward against the counter as you wait for an answer.

“It’s been a while since we last had a chat,” Simon hums, opting to stay standing straight, “and, for some strange reason, I haven’t heard any camera noises recently.”

Your mind pauses for a moment before you sigh and stand up straight, taking a step back from the counter, “I don’t want to do this with you today.”

“Why not?”

“Please. Not today.”

“I don’t remember having a say in when you’d follow me around and take pictures of me minding my business.”

You purse your lips at his valid point and look away for a moment, “Did you not just say you haven’t noticed me take any pictures of you recently?”

Simon is silent for a moment, before taking a step closer to the counter, voice a little quieter, almost gentler, “So I can’t complain a little about you stalking me, then? Because you’ve stopped for a month or two?”

“But that’s not―” you choke up, despite mentally begging yourself not to, your voice cracking. You sigh defeatedly, tiredly, and lean against the counter as if it can offer any more than physical support. You stare down at the grimy-clear surface. You need to clean it.

“Not…?” Simon presses on, though his voice is gentle, softly coaching you through your emotions.

“It’s not stalking,” you have to defend yourself with a broken voice while quiet, labored breaths leave you and force you to breathe manually. You already did horrible the first time Simon decided to interrogate you about your observing―you don’t know why he’d think it was a good idea to try and do it again. He already knows that you “stalk” him, or however he wants to classify it, so why does he have to keep bringing it up?

“Then what am I supposed to call it, huh?” he asks, the gravel leaving his voice gradually, exposing something soft and fuzzy in its leave. Something smoother, something that makes the hairs on the back of your neck shoot up. 

I don’t have an answer for him, you realize. You can try to explain yourself however you like. You can tell him that you’ve been following him―or, had been following him before being confronted―and taking candid pictures of him, leaving them to hang in the dingy room below your shop, with dates and locations attached to each photo to ensure that you remember each one. You can explain the thought that goes into every photo, and how each one is selected from the many taken from that day. You don’t do any of that, however; instead, you stare at him and hiccup again, hot embarrassment rushing to your face as you let out another shuddering breath and dare to draw another one back in.

“Hey, listen,” Simon reaches a hand across the counter and puts his palm over the back of your latex-covered hand, making you look at him with glassy eyes, sniffling, “I’m not doing this to make you upset. I don’t want you to cry, or feel guilty, or think that I’m in any way mad at you. Because I’m not.”

It’s barely reassuring. You’re just glad that you have the shop hours posted outside so that nobody thinks to come in right now, since you’re sure it's at least an hour beyond closing by now. Simon’s thumb rubs circles against the back of your hand as he continues, “You stalked me for at least a few months. I don’t know why, I don’t know who else you’ve stalked, I just know that you’ve been following me around for a while. I would like to know why you’ve chosen me.”

It’s an awful question, really. You don’t think he could’ve chosen a worse one. You would honestly take prison over answering this, because truthfully, you don’t know―Simon was there, and for whatever reason you felt inexplicably attached to him. It could’ve been something he said the day you two met, something he did, or just the way he acted, but whatever it was, it elicited a strong enough feeling from you to cause you to start following him. You sniffle again, and Simon must sense that something’s not right, because he squeezes your hand and leans in a little further. 

“I think I should at least know why, right?” he asks, before pausing, and offering, “Maybe we could trade information?”

You furrow your eyebrows at this. “Huh?” You wince at the way your voice cracks.

Simon doesn’t mention it. “I’ll tell you something I think you’d like to know, in exchange for you telling me why you decided to stalk me.”

You don’t answer him, partially because you’re not sure what he could possibly tell you, partially because you don’t know what you could possibly tell him. After a few moments of silence, though, you nod your head and a nearly unintelligible “okay” leaves your mouth. Simon takes this as an invitation to share his information, and so he does.

“I knew for a month before I told you,” he tells you in a low voice, “and for that month, and the month after that, I watched you.”

You swear your heart stops for a moment. What? “... what?”

“I watched you close your shop every day,” Simon hums, “and I made sure you got home safely. The area you live in is dangerous. Plenty of roadmen just waiting for someone as… unaware as you to come by them.”

Your heart starts beating again, faster and faster, and you think you can feel your pupils dilating. Simon’s words reach your hypothalamus and you can physically feel the dopamine multiply, hell, you can feel it lighting up your nerves and flooding your veins. It feels like lightning coursing all throughout your body. You’re nearly positive the blacks of your pupils have consumed the majority of your iris, leaving just a ring of color in your eyes.

“Is that why you watched me?” Simon asks, a hand coming up to brush his thumb over the tears that’ve trickled just below your eyes, “Did you think I was unsafe? That I couldn’t take care of myself?” You shake your head, and a breathy “no” leaves you, making you take a deep breath, stuttering as you exhale. Simon keeps his hand on your cheek and pauses, a curious look on his face. 

— 

No? 

Simon tries to think. He considered the―frankly horrifying―possibility of you fancying him, but that idea went as soon as it came, both out of lack of evidence and because he truly can’t stand the idea. It would only mean he’d been playing into it, and that’s the last thing he wants to do. He watches your pupils grow uncannily big and only gets more concerned. He forgets what it means when the pupils get bigger outside of being under the influence, and since he doesn’t recall seeing you take anything while talking to him, he can only assume that that’s not the case. 

“Do you know me from somewhere?” Simon asks, bringing his hand down from your cheek to your own, squeezing it gently, “Should I recognize you?”

You shake your head negatively, “No.” 

Simon thinks for a few beats, each feeling a little longer than the last, before speaking up again, “Did I seem particularly interesting?”

Despite what he hoped the answer would be, you shake your head again wordlessly, a “no” never escaping you verbally but your body language more than enough to tell Simon that he wouldn’t be able to guess why exactly you stalked him. He supposes it can’t be too easy to tell your victim why exactly you stalked them, but he told you what he did, so he thinks it’s only fair if you return the favor and grace him with the answer to the question, “Then why did you do it?”

You take shaky breaths, still hunched over the counter, staring down at the dirtied glass so as to not make eye contact with Simon, “You’re new.”

He stays silent. You continue after swallowing, “You were right there. Everyone else― they don’t come here as often. If they do, they make too much conversation. They give too much of themselves to me. I don’t want them. You’ve never… been so open, not as much as them. I didn’t find you any more interesting than them, I just― I just thought that you were better. You’re so rare. I needed you, like… like a―”

“Like a toy?” Simon tries to interrupt, only for you to shake your head negatively, looking up at him and finding his eyes.

“Like an artifact.”

Simon tries to think. An artifact? As if you were a museum curator, looking for new items to add to your displays, a collector of sorts looking for something new. Something special. And he had the luck to be the one you found different, to be the one that you need, for God know’s what reason. 

“You needed me?” Simon asks, thumb swiping over the back of your hand, “Nobody else?”

“Only you,” you confirm, turning your hand over so that your gloved palm is in contact with Simon’s bare one, “it was so strange. I didn’t think for a second that I was stalking you. I just wanted to know you.”

“… Do you know me now?”

“Not as well as I want to.”

So you still want to. Simon’s conflicted. He’s not sure how he feels about being some kind of collectible. He’s sure you didn’t mean to equate him to an item―or at the very least, something inhuman―but he can’t help but feel that you’re doing just that. The lock in his back pocket feels heavier. Like these conflicted feelings weren’t weighing Simon down enough, he just needed the extra weight of the steel lock to remind him of where he is. How close to the ground he is. How close to you he is. Who he bought the lock for. How much better is he than you? You stalked him first, but he stalked you back. You broke into his flat, he broke into yours. You observe him, he watches you. Same difference.

“I bought you a new lock,” Simon comments after a few beats of silence, amusement poking through his conflicted feelings at the sight of your suddenly confused expression, clarifying quickly at the look, “for your photography room.”

Your expression hardens and you sigh, “I’m not using that room anymore.”

“No?” Simon tilts his head, “lost your interest in photography, all of a sudden?”

“The room’s not in the best condition right now,” you admit, watching as Simon pulls a lock out of his back pocket with his free hand, sliding the metal across the counter to your end. He’s surprised by the admission―just a few days ago, he couldn’t imagine your room being any less clean than a research clinic. You take the lock regardless, flipping it over in your hand and smiling at Simon, “Thank you, though.”

He nods and you hesitantly slide your hand away from his, walking back towards the stairs, with Simon following behind you closely as soon as he rounds the corner of the counter. It’s a quick walk down the stairs to your locked-up room, and Simon steps ahead unprompted to grab the rusted lock, not missing your look of appreciation as he yanks off the decayed hunk of metal. Orange dust flies into the air in the lock’s unexpected departure and the particles soon melt into the surrounding air. You fit the bar of the lock through the uneven hole in the bar of metal attached to the door, and open the door before the bar can go all the way through. 

When Simon sees the state of your photography room, he can hardly believe his eyes. There’s splattered dye everywhere, all various shades of blue and purple―from your polaroid film, he guesses, seeing all the tattered plastic-paper pictures strewn across the floor, all having the same colored clumps attached to the interior plastic. There’s tubs of water knocked over, accompanied by puddles of the same water gathered on the floor, desecrating any originally-decent pictures. The red overhead light bulb is flickering and the room is darker than light. There’s several camera lenses shattered to bits across the floor. Cameras follow the shattered glass, several models from the same brand of each camera broken, either the lithium batteries leaking or the lens broken or the camera itself looking like it’d been run over. 

The room is a mess. This pleases Simon greatly.

He stays silent as you kick a few shards of glass out of the way, though he keeps an eye on you to make sure you don’t get hurt doing so, watching as you walk across the room and open up a drawer underneath the only intact table in the room, the others greatly dented or a hole worn in them. You put a single picture out of it, though not before brushing small shards of glass off of the polaroid, making Simon take a step forward and hold out a hand as if to take yours and inspect it for cuts. The red light makes it nearly impossible to tell, but the way that you don’t react to the glass makes him think that it hadn’t punctured your skin at all. When you walk back over to him, he sees what’s in your hand; a picture of him.

“This is my favorite one,” you hum, holding the picture out for him to take. Gently, he takes the film into his hand and reads the caption. 24/06/23, Mosley St. It’s a picture of him walking towards the camera, but looking off to the side, watching a car speed by. He can’t remember the moment, but judging by the look he sees on his face, he imagines he was wondering who in their right mind decided to go so fast in whatever speed zone that street is. 

“It’s very nice,” Simon replies, something warm settling in his chest, “I don’t believe I saw you take this one.”

He knows it’s a lie. Not because he remembers seeing them, but because it would be ridiculous if he didn’t see them. Despite this, he feels no guilt lying to your face, not when you get this proud look on your face that coincides with the disbelief appearing upon it at the same time, the two creating a look Simon can only respond to with the smallest bit of adoration.

“Really?” you ask, and Simon doesn’t hesitate to nod.

“Really.” 

He doesn’t mind it, really. Not when you seem so happy, letting him follow you back out of the room and up the stairs, an invisible tail wagging behind you in excitement, goosebumps erupted across the skin of your arms and the back of your neck. He thinks it’s worth it. 

Of course, for you, most things are worth it, if not everything.

[impala-dreamer]

Who We're Pretending To Be

A Story from the YOU Universe

~Joe finds himself getting too close to one of his grad students and he fights the urge to fall completely.~

Joe Goldberg (Jonathan Moore) x F!Reader

5,019 Words

Warnings: NSFW.

A/N: If you've not seen the Netflix show YOU, this may not be your thing. Still a great story, but it helps to know the show. Also, if you've not seen the show, I suggest you get right on that because it is AMAZING.

Set between Seasons 3 & 4. Slight spoilers for s4, but not really. 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The classroom seems cold today, like there’s something missing. It’s distracting. I can’t quite put my finger on what’s off, but there’s a charge in the air like something’s about to happen; as if lightning could strike at any second.

I don’t mean proverbial lightning, as none of my students seem to have grasped any of the contextual undertones of the book we’re discussing, but actual, live lightning. If I opened the windows behind my desk just a crack, a bolt would sneak through and bury itself in the base of my skull. Maybe that’s what I need- a jolt of electricity, something to break me out of this fog that crept up around me and climbs forever higher threatening to suffocate me.

I think I’d take the lightning to the skull over suffocation, but we don’t always get what we want.

I’m perched on the edge of the desk when the door opens and Y/N comes rushing in.

Suddenly, all of my attention is on her.

She’s never late. Never rushing, always at least ten minutes early for every appointment, every class. She seems- off today, as well. Perhaps she can feel the imminent lightning strike as well. Wouldn’t that be funny? I find a kindred amongst these idiot grad students who can’t even seem to end this horrid debate.

“I am so sorry, Professor Moore.”

Y/N’s voice cracks a bit, which in itself isn’t very unusual. She’s one of the quieter students I’ve encountered, and the only American in my current circle of acquaintances. Her accent is faint, as if she’s attempting to hide it from her schoolmates. She’s been here a while, I can infer; sprinkling in local slang and adding letters to words where back home there would be none. She’s trying hard to fit in, but why? Why not be herself?

“I got held up by-”

I hold up my hand and smile softly. “It’s fine, Y/N. Please take a seat and try to catch up.”

For fuck’s sake, she’s only twenty minutes late, but it looks like every second has weighed her down like lead.

The others pick up their debate and I sit back a bit, cross my arms, pretend to listen. This teaching thing isn’t as hard as everyone makes it out to be. Occasionally, I toss out an idea and let them run with it. Sometimes, I pay attention, mostly I don’t. Mostly I’m thinking of You. Of how beautiful You looked at that art show, of how You gasped when you saw me like You couldn’t decide if You wanted to run to me or away.

From the corner of my eye, I see Y/N timidly raise her hand and You are temporarily pushed aside. She keeps her hand up but close to her chest, as if the very act of asking to speak is somehow terrifying.

How can someone so brave be so terrified to do something as common as speak in class? She’s clearly not a scared person by nature- she moved across an ocean to attend university when she could have gone for free back home to whatever state college she decided to attend. I’ve peeked at her transcripts- she’s smart. Not win a genius grant or a full ride smart, but smart. Why is she so nervous?

I smile and a bit of her nerves seem to quell. Her shoulders relax an inch and she smiles back.

“You know you don’t have to raise your hand, Y/N,” I tell her, laughing gently to put her at ease.

She dips her chin and then looks up with the most beautiful gaze I have ever seen. Her lashes flutter upwards in slow motion, the darkness of her pupils expand, pushing nearly every fleck of color away except the gemlike glow cast by the stained glass window over my head. She smiles and her lips shine like glass. Soft, pink, beautiful glass. I can’t look away and yet I absolutely have to. Thankfully, she speaks and I can act like I’m moving away to sit in my chair and not to get away from her.

“Sorry,” she says, sweet voice sweeping over the room. “I just didn’t want to jump in because I was late but-”

“But you have something to add,” I finish for her.

Her eyes float back to me and the atmosphere shifts. The foreboding of a lighting strike vanishes and the room seems to warm up. Quickly, I sit and scoot the chair close to the desk, set my elbows on the top, clasp my hands near my lips. I can’t stop staring at her.

She nods. “Yes. If that’s alright.”

There it is again, the tiniest speck of British on her tongue. How long has she been living here, and why? It can’t just be for school. She’s too interesting for that. She dresses to blend in; muted colors and clean jeans, her hair always swept back, face free of plastering makeup or too much color. There’s only ever that pink gloss and a gentle brush of mascara. It’s as if she doesn't know how beautiful she is, or perhaps, she doesn’t care.

Or was she one of those kids who never really got any attention until they blossomed but by then it was too late to fit into their personality?

She chews her lip nervously and shyly looks away from me.

No, she knows. She knows how beautiful she is, she just isn’t one to flaunt it; doesn’t need the attention. Or is that how she draws them in?

She’s already talking, but I can’t hear a thing she’s saying. I can hear her voice, that honey like glaze she adds to things when she’s speaking passionately, but the actual words, the meaning- I can’t follow a damned thing. I’m too busy trying to figure her out.

You flash through my mind for a moment; a sweet memory of a smile in the library when You didn’t think I was looking.

What is it about a smile that says so much without words? Does it show who we really are or who we’re pretending to be?

“I just think that love shouldn’t be so easily condemned.”

Y/N’s comment breaks through my thoughts of You and I clear my throat, straighten up in my chair, focus.

Across the room, Nadia rolls her eyes, clearly disagreeing with Y/N’s interpretation. “This isn’t love, it’s obsession. The two can’t and shouldn’t be intertwined.”

Y/N bites her bottom lip and shakes her head.

What does that lip gloss taste like? Berries, perhaps… No. Stop it. Focus.

“I disagree.” Y/N sits forward and tucks her hands below the table. “Love is obsession. Obsession is love. It’s not a tautology, no, but you can have one with the other. If you’re not even a little obsessed with the person you love, is it really love at all?”

My mind is zinging, my ears ringing. Does she truly believe that, or is it all for the sake of debating Nadia? They’ve been at war most of the semester, but this seems truthful, deep.

The bell rings before I can recenter and add anything. I give my head a little shake and stand up, the chair rolling back behind me.

“Class dismissed. Great job today. Lively, wonderful discourse.” I fake a smile at the rest and then settle on Y/N.

She’s taking her time, hanging back as she gathers her things. She stuffs a notebook into her bag and the pen she’s been using rolls away from her.

“Crap.” She lunges across the table for it, but it’s too close to the edge, too far from her reach.

I drop down at the last second and save it from a dusty fate of rolling across the floor. “Gotcha.”

She’s staring when I stand up. Our eyes meet and she doesn’t shy away, but looks even deeper somehow. A smile lifts her cheeks and my pulse quickens.

No.

She holds out her hand and there’s a fleeting second when I want to trace my fingers across her palm, feel how soft and warm she is, but no. I toss her the pen and turn, trying to get her out of my head.

I have more important things to do than become a tired cliche. Some professor falling for a student. It’s an outrageous thought, and besides, I don’t need Y/N, I have You.

I hear the zipper close and a chair being pushed in. She’s leaving.

She lingers in the door and turns back to me with a sweet smile. “Have a good weekend, Professor.”

Her tone is so genuine, so kind that it nearly knocks me backwards. I can’t remember the last time anyone has truly wished me a good time. It’s such an overused pleasantry, so common and boring, but not when she says it. Not when she smiles at me like that, with her eyes still and focused on me.

The warmth spreading through me is real as well and I can’t seem to push it away. “Thank you,” I managed, barely able to stand let alone return the sentiment. “You too.”

The rest of the day goes by quickly but it feels like forever. Two more classes, two more groups of students droning on about what the author really meant, when none of them, not a single one seems to be able to read between the fucking lines. None of them can step back and see the whole picture, capture the meaning as a universe unto itself and not just a line in black and white on an otherwise blank page.

Y/N could read between the lines. Y/N would understand the sum of it all. She would get it.

Stop. Thinking. About. Her.

On my walk home, I think about You. Wondering what You’re up to, where You are tonight. The sun is setting, dragging the sky down into a deep pink and I wonder if You are seeing the same colors where You are. Someday, we’ll sit together on an island in the Pacific and see what that sunset looks like. Would You paint it for me, I wonder…

Y/N crosses my mind for a moment as I gaze at the light reflecting off a window as I pass. Would the sunset hit her shining lip gloss in the same way? Would the pink deepen with the sky? Would she smile if she caught me staring, back away if I leaned in to drag my thumb across her juicy, pink bottom lip?

No.

Darkness has settled and I haven’t moved to turn on a lamp. I’m stuck, glued to my sofa, my hands nailed to my thighs. I keep my eyes open for fear of seeing her face, but bouncing around the room looking for a distraction is only giving me a headache. I need to get out. I need something to do. I need-

A knock at the door.

Who would be knocking at my door at nearly ten o’clock at night?

Curiosity pulls me off of the couch and I switch on the lights as I head to the door. The peephole is clouded as fuck, but I can see her outline. My stomach tightens, my shoulders tense.

What is she doing here?

Her hand raises to knock again, but I unlatch the door before her knuckles hand. I find her dangling in the air, her startled face the most appealing thing I’ve seen in ages. Her eyes go wide, her jaw drops just enough to give me a peek at her tongue. Quickly, she rights herself and shies her gaze away. She chews her lip and I notice the pink gloss is gone, replaced by a deeper red.

Everything about her is different tonight. Her hair is down and fresh, her eyes are lined in black and the color blended above brings out the prisms in her eyes. Her clothes are strange as well: a short skirt, tall boots, a blouse that’s too tight to hide anything. There’s a gold string around her throat, something old, a gift perhaps from a dead relative, or a chance find at an antique shop. She would like diving through boxes of discarded wares looking for treasures, wouldn’t she?

Or maybe I’m just distracted by her appearance. Maybe I should stop trying to pick her apart and send her far, far away.

I’m not that man anymore. I’ve changed. I’m good. I have to be good for You.

It’s been too long since either of us has said anything and the fact of it is hanging in the air between us like some kind of glowing, awkward sign.

Thankfully, she speaks.

“Um… Hi.”

It isn’t much, but it breaks the painful silence.

I smile, confused but curious. My ultimate downfall.

“Y/N. What are you doing here?”

I should say something about it being inappropriate, something about contacting me only during office hours, but she knows. That’s not why she’s here. I can see it in her eyes.

Her hands are tucked behind her back, I notice. She’s holding something, not just shoving her tits in my face, although, I can’t say that I mind. She sees that I’m looking and turns to the side a bit to hide it more.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming herself, steeling her nerves. Why is she so nervous? What secret is she hiding? What plan has been brewing all day in her head?

That’s it, isn’t it? She was late this morning, distracted and timid because she was planning to come here.

I should be flattered, but I’m too intrigued by her boldness as she slides past me into my flat.

“I know this is highly inappropriate,” she says, the confession like a song on her lips. “But… I… Well…”

Her nose scrunches up in the most adorable way while she searches for the right words. It’s endearing and makes me want to sit for hours and listen to her talk, discover exactly who she is and why.

I’m still standing in the open doorway, I realize, so I move aside and let it close. My back presses into the door and I hold my tongue, letting her get to the point.

She’s struggling, dancing around it in her head.

I want to crack open her skull and watch the thoughts spark through the gray matter like shooting stars.

“If you’re worried you’ll get in trouble,” I say, trying to get things moving, “you won’t. I’m just wondering why you’re here and how it is that you know where I live.”

She laughs and digs her tooth into the corner of her lip. “I’m not… stalking you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

“Nothing that nefarious,” she goes on. “But I did do something bad.”

The nerves seem to fall away from her the more she speaks and her demeanor changes. Her voice deepens ever so slightly and her hip pops to the side as she looks me over. Is she… flirting with me?

“I doubt you’ve done anything newsworthy, Miss Y/L/N…”

She takes a step forward and her lips pucker gently.

She is flirting with me.

“I hope not,” she says with a little laugh. “You see, I work part time in the admin office…”

I didn’t know that. I don’t know a lot about her. So many things to uncover, so many artifacts to dust off and examine.

“OK…” I push off from the door and take a step towards her. She counters, stepping backwards, guiding me to follow.

“And, well, I accidentally was looking at your files and-”

“Accidentally?”

She presses her tongue between her front teeth and smiles, eyes falling across my face. “Accidentally on purpose,” she clarifies. “I was… curious.”

“About me?”

Another step closer but she doesn’t move this time, letting me close the space between us by a few forbidden inches.

She sighs sweetly. “A little, yes.”

I dip my chin and look up, lifting my brows in question. She pulls in a quick breath, clearly enjoying the look I’ve given her.

“OK, maybe a little more than a little.”

One more step and I’m closer than I’ve ever really been to her, except just now when she invited herself in. I take a breath and she smells warm like vanilla, sweet like honey. The fantasy of berries on her lips falls away and I suddenly want to bury my face in the crook of her neck and do nothing but breathe in her scent, feel it invade my senses, infect my bloodstream.

Her chest heaves with a heavy breath and her eyes grow a little darker. She wants me.

“Maybe a lot curious,” she whispers, lifting her chin and blinking slowly.

Is she daring me to kiss her? Can she feel the lightning between us? Dare I?

No. She’s a student. She’s off limits. She’s not… You.

She must notice my hesitation and steps back a pace. She clears her throat. “Anyway. I saw that it was your birthday today.”

It’s not my birthday. Not my real birthday, anyway, just the one on the fake passport with the fake name and real photo.

I smile because I have to. “It is.”

Whatever she’s hiding behind her back shifts between her hands. “And, well, it’s presumptuous of me but I’ve never heard you talk much about friends or family and… you don’t wear a… ring. I just… Well, I know how hard it is to be a world away from what you know, and this city isn’t exactly kind in general, so…”

She’s rambling and I don’t ever want her to stop. Her voice ebbs and flows over me like a sultry tsunami and I can feel my fingers twitch, my blood rush through my system faster and faster.

“I just don’t think anyone should be alone or forgotten on their birthday so-” Finally, she reveals the mystery behind her back and holds out a green glass bottle. “I took a chance that you were a scotch man. At first I thought wine, but I know nothing about wine, and the guy at the shop said this one was good, so… Happy birthday, Professor.”

She hands me the bottle and without thinking, I take it. It’s not expensive by any means, but it’s the gesture that counts. She doesn’t let go right away, holding it with me, as if she can communicate her desires through the blown glass.

“Thank you.” I smile, let my finger brush against hers. “This is… very thoughtful.”

She lets go but doesn’t move otherwise. Her eyes are locked on me, her stare so pure.

I have to get her out of here.

Y/N shrugs and smiles, so confident now, so sure. “It’s nothing, really. I don’t even know if it’s any good.”

Her meaning lingers and I nod, gesture to the sofa as I start to peel off the seal on the top of the bottle.

“Join me for a glass?”

She bites her lip again and I nearly lose it.

“Love to.”

The scotch isn’t terrible but it’s not great. More like something you’d grab if you were just looking to get drunk, not necessarily gift someone you’re trying to impress.

Is that what she’s doing here? Trying to get me drunk? Surely, she knows she’s impressed me long before today. The looks between us in class, the lectures directed almost entirely at her have not gone unnoticed, but this, this is different. This is dangerous. She is dangerous.

The sofa suddenly feels too small. We sit close, drinking and chatting about life in London. She tells me about her family back home and how she had to cross an ocean to escape a misspent youth and an abusive father figure. I lie my way through a few answers but mostly, I let her talk.

The more she drinks, the looser her tongue gets, the freer her gestures. More than once, her hand falls to my knee and even though I should, I don’t push her away. Even though I should stand up, take her glass, ask her to get the hell out of my house, I can’t. I can’t do anything but stare at her lips as she speaks, drown myself in the tone of her voice, memorize the shape of her ears, her nose, slope of her shoulder. I’m lost in time with her and even though I know the clock is careening past midnight, I don’t care. I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want her to move. I want to be frozen in this moment with her. I want to die in her arms but not before…

“Professor?” She laughs gently, loose and relaxed from the alcohol. She leans in, her shoulder pressing against mine. “Are you even listening to me?”

Honestly, I have no idea what she’s been saying, but I can’t let her know that. I shift a bit, turning towards her. There’s barely room left for the Holy Ghost, as they say, but I doubt he’d begrudge me a little closeness, especially on my- on Jonathan’s birthday.

“I’m listening,” I whisper, captivated by the way she’s glowing. “I’m always listening to you.”

She squirms a bit and smiles behind her glass, takes another sip, downing the rest. There’s a drop of amber gold on her lip and it takes every ounce of restraint in me not to sweep it away with my tongue.

She pats the back of her hand against it and the moment is gone.

“Ya know, you’re one of the best teachers I’ve ever had. And I’m not just sayin’ that. You really are. I get you. I see you, Jonathan Moore. I see inside you.”

She slurs a bit, but not enough for it to be considered a crime if I touch her. That’s all I want to do, just a simple touch. Just to feel how soft she is beneath my fingers, how smooth the curve of her cheek.

Ripping myself away from the impulse, I take the glass from her hand and set hers next to mine on the coffee table. “I think you’ve had enough, Miss. Y/L/N.”

Her hand lands on my chest, right in the very center of me. Can she feel my heartbeat? Does she know how much I want her?

“You can call me by my name, ya know,” she says, dropping her chin and smiling. She’s so close that it would take but a tiny nudge to taste her. “Everyone just calls me Y/N/N.”

This is insane. She needs to leave. I need to slam the door behind her and never open it again.

“Y/N/N.”

Her name falls from my tongue like an incantation and her eyes go hazy. She leans closer, her breath fanning over my lips.

“Say it again,” she asks, nearly begging, “please…”

Fuck, this isn’t good. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t do this. I need to- Fuck, what does it all matter? She’s beautiful and interesting and smart and sitting next to me barely dressed and all she wants is me to whisper her name. What’s the harm?

“Y/N/N.”

The spell falls over her and I know it’s too late to back away. Her eyes fall closed and she leans in, pressing her crimson painted lips to mine. She exhales, pushes herself into the kiss, lets out a tiny moan.

She feels so good and it’s all I can think about. She pulls back and I lean in, needing more. My arms wrap around her, stealing her away. She melts against me, opens her lips to my tongue. The vanilla on her skin mixes with the scotch on her tongue and I’m blown away.

“Professor…”

If feels wrong, so fucking wrong, but I can’t stop tasting her, can’t stop breathing into her with every ounce of air in my body.

I let her go for a second, thinking she’s changed her mind, but no, she’s even more ready than I am.

She stands up, fits her knees in between mine and slowly unbuttons her blouse.

My eyes are huge, I know it. I must look like an idiot but I can’t help it. She’s here, beautiful and curvaceous, teasing me, undressing for me. It’s all for me. She’s here for me.

The blouse floats to the floor and she looks down at me, a hint of previous nerves returning. Her bra is pale pink and covered in lace. Something so pure and innocent covering up something I would kill for.

I would, I realize. I would kill for her.

She wiggles out of her skirt and her hips are distracting. I want to touch, to feel my bones crushing into hers, to sink myself deep inside just to see what it’s like, to know her, to feel all of her.

“You like?” she asks, innocence ringing in her soft voice.

What happened in her past that would make her ask such a thing? Who hurt her so badly, who crushed her self esteem to the point that she wouldn’t be able to tell if I was enjoying her delicious display?

“Of course. You’re… absolutely stunning.”

I can’t say more or I’ll break. I reach for her and she slides into my lap, locking her thighs around mine. She presses down on me and my cock responds, all blood and logic rushing down to push back at her ass.

She wraps her hands around my neck and bends to kiss me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, she curls them, tugs gently, testing, enjoying. Her kisses deepen and her hips roll. I’m about to lose my mind.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first day of class,” she moans, scraping her nails across my scalp.

The sensation is intoxicating and my eyes roll back a bit as she tugs hard. Her right hand is locked in my hair and her left is dragging down my chest. I should stop her. I should stand up. I should…

“Fuck.”

Her hand sneaks into my slacks and she scoots back onto my knees for better access. I can’t even think straight as she rubs at my cock. Her hand is soft, warm, firm. I know I’m moaning, but I can’t help it. I might just die here beneath her.

Her tongue glides across my lips. “So hard to sit in class and not dream about fucking you…”

Something snaps inside of me and I let go. I grab at her tits, peel the delicate lace down and pinch her nipples hard until she’s crying out and arching against me.

“I can’t even read anymore,” she admits, nearly breathless as my lips seal around her left nipple. “Every page makes me think of you. I can hear every word in your voice. I- oh God-”

I bite down just enough to stop her train of thought and I look up to see a blank, beautiful stare.

“I want you,” she whispers, lips never quite closing after.

Fuck. This is what I was trying to avoid. This feeling, this hunger inside of me. This need to fall into someone else, this treacherous lust that forces me to act.

“Please…”

Her hand falls to the nape of my neck and it’s so delicate, so tender that I break.

Wrapping my arms around her, I stand and twist, flipping her over onto her back. She gasps and reaches for me, kissing through the shock while I tug the slacks from my hips. She yanks at my shirt, fumbling with the tiny plastic buttons, licking at every new inch of exposed flesh.

“Want you inside me so bad,” she sings, nearly praying as if I’m some ancient god on high that can make all her dreams come true.

I don’t know about all of them, but this prayer, I can answer.

I tear the lace from her hips and fall down over her, crushing her into the old sofa. Her breath stops for a blessed second and I swear I can hear her heart racing through the silence. She runs her hands across my shoulders and down, curling them around my hips while spreading her legs wider.

“Please… Please… Please…”

Her whine is pathetic but I can’t get enough. If I had it in me to drag this out, to tease her for hours, I would, but the scotch has clouded my head and the sight of her strung out and desperate makes it impossible to wait.

She inhales hard when I sink into her. I can feel myself falling but I press my hands beside her head and hold on as best I can.

She feels like heaven.

Or the closest thing to heaven I’ll ever know.

Wet and warm and tight, I can feel her throbbing around me. Every thrust is like magic, making her shiver and squirm and tighten up even more. She clings to me, nails digging into my arms, mouth searching and thirsty for more.

“Jon-”

I almost go insane. It’s not even my name, but it feels so right on her lips that I wish it was.

I feel her orgasm; her body clenching down on me and pulling me in deeper. It’s so hard not to scream her name at the top of my lungs. Nearly impossible not to stay here forever.

I fall down, shove my face into the crook of her neck and thrust a few more times. I know it’s over too soon, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

She rakes her hand through my hair, gently this time, and finds my lips, kissing me sweetly.

“Hi,” she laughs when our eyes finally focus and find each other through the afterglow.

God, she’s beautiful. So giving, so loving, so perfect in a million different ways that it’s actually breaking my heart.

I smile and peck her lips as I go soft inside of her.

“Hello, You.”

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[boomsophie]

okay, so, wow. got a huge bombshell dropped on me this morning (tbh i can’t even say that because i sorta found it myself as i was stalking @muwapsturniolo i’m so sorry if that’s creepy i just love ur page it’s so comfy and i stumbled on it).

i’m extremely new to the sturniolo community. i only recently (about two weeks ago) discovered their youtube channel and of course i just fell in love with how authentic and funny they are. and then i started lurking around the community and it seemed so kind and amazing and welcoming — and for the most part, i believe that 99.9% of it is.

but then i found the exposure on a pedo within the community, who has victims who have come forward, and y’all, my heart stopped.

i won’t be adding any detail to it as, again, i just discovered it this morning and my knowledge on it is very surface level, and i feel that trying to expand on it would just be insulting to the victims as i don’t personally know their stories. and, it’s also not the main point of this post.

i mean, of course i’m shocked so it is a big factor, and i’m mortified as i was a victim of grooming myself when i was 15. so hearing that there was someone so depraved within a community that, in all honesty, was the warmest and most enthusiastically kind i have ever seen, was just jaw dropping.

as i was essentially scrolling and eating up this info, i came across a post by @bernardsbendystraws regarding her stance on minors — and it really opened my eyes too. (you can see the post here.)

i have had blogs in the past in which i’ve put strict mdni regulations on. that’s because, for the most part, i write smut or other explicit material. the thought of me, being an adult who was in their early twenties (i’m 24 now) having minors interacting with my very explicit page felt wrong.

it felt as though i was being icky even though that was never my intention; i didn’t want to inadvertently harm minors with my fics (and somehow i felt i would) so i put the regulations on my blog for what i felt was their own protection.

(never mind the fact that when i was 14-17 i was heavily ingesting nsfw content and completely ignoring mdni warnings and never felt victimized in the slightest.)

this post has already turned into a monster so to digress, i will no longer be restricting minors from my blog. please feel free to interact with me in an appropriate manner and ensure that i am explicitly aware of your age. consuming my content (when i do post some) is also perfectly okay, as is interacting with it.

seeing all of this information made me realize that there are people in communities who will welcome minors to their pages only to prey on them like depraved wolves; and that is so, so sickening. i’ve always known that the internet is not a safe place for minors even though it should be.

so, much like rose, i want to create a safe space for the sturniolo fans that are under 18. you’re welcome here and you’ll be safe here, and you’ll have a friend in me <3 you can confide in me about anything, and i will listen. please just stay safe everyone. always keep your eyes peeled for anything that seems off or suspicious, and don’t hesitate to block/report someone who makes you uncomfy.

so, yeah, that’s all i really wanted to say. i also want to say thank you to everyone who has brought the information to light and exposed the pedo, you’ve done an amazing service and to all the victims, i pray that you heal and that you’re okay. you’re so strong and beautiful, and you’ll always have my support and respect! <333

[v0rtex-sys]

TMA disability headcanons time!! this is only michael, gerry, jon, and martin but i will add more later. mild CW for talk of disorders :}

lots of these are based off my own experiences, especially michael </3

also i literally read the DSM-5 for this.

michael:

Cyclothymic disorder - a bipolar disorder. michael definitely has mania + depressive episodes that only last a day or so at a time

separation anxiety - probably been left before, finally found someone he trusts so now (gerry) he’s obsessively worried

ocd - probably caused/related to some of their other issues, i think they have very strict schedules and they freak out if it gets messed up

persistent vocal tic disorder - i think they’d only have vocal tics (until they get spiraled). probably a whistle tic, cursing mayhaps, echolalia

probably was selectively mute as a child

panic disorder - do i even have to explain myself?? i headcanon that it is worse during hypomanic episodes

Hypersomnolence disorder - i bet he is an eepy eeper and regularly falls asleep in weird places

borderline personality - worsened by mania + depressive episodes, their self image is regularly changing and also spiral avatar

visual snow - again, spiral avatar. i have this :} i also just think it’d be interesting

some sort of joint issues in their hands, maybe arthritis but i haven’t decided

gerry:

NPD - this solely of vibes (not in a bad way!!!) i dont have NPD so i can’t say too much ab it, would be down to expand on it but i don’t want to spread misinformation:,}

reactive attachment disorder - i think this is only a diagnosis for children but i'm not certain. mary definitely fucked his mental state up and he avoids people in caregiver roles (might have presented as being extra rebellious as a teenager)

insomnia - it’s essentially canon. i also think he and michael having opposite sleep disorders would be funny :}

ADHD - hyper with zero attention span

chronic fatigue - cane user because of it, can’t walk for too long. fainting/dizzy spells. worsened by the lung cancer

epilepsy - also worsened by lung cancer. probably has migraines bc of the seizures. i bet he regularly has petit mal seizures

jon:

autism - no explanation needed. although i hc that he learned bsl in college cause he kept going nonverbal (or maybe georgie taught them? she seems like she knows bsl)

brief psychotic disorder - literally him all of season two. plus maybe the end of season 4 & the end of season 5.

hoarding disorder - idk they seem like a hoarder to me. but only a little? like they hoard but they’re so anxious about people judging them for it so they force themself to get rid of stuff which results in more horading

ARFID - sensory issues make it hard for them to eat:(

paranoid personality disorder - essentially canon, literally them all of season 2

schizoid personality disorder - ik it could be their autism but still, i think the relationship avoidance (especially with martin) is a bit more than just tism

schizotypal personality disorder - worsened by the eye.

(yes i know that’s all the cluster A personality disorders, it’s not my fault they all fit him!! /lh)

chronic fatigue - probably bc of the eye bullshit, they probably faint a lot

cane user - i dont know what physical disability they’d have, but i like the cane user jon HC soooo

i also think they’d have some nervous tics, not a tourette disorder tho

martin:

dissociative amnesia + derealisation/depersonalization - brought on by the lonely. probably struggles to recognise people (worsened by not-sasha)

rheumatoid arthritis in his hands (+ his feet from the walking in the fearpocalypse)

major depressive disorder - had since he was little, worsened by the lonely