#but I don't know if it would really stress me out

[enderlovez]

A Little Timid

Spencer Reid x Shy Female Reader WORD COUNT: 1100+

Summary: You bring Spencer something for dinner during a particularly stressful case. One thing, though—nobody else knows you exist.

Content Warning: Spencer is overworking himself and forgetting to eat, reader has a sister and a niece/nephew (not specified), pet names

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You and Spencer have been dating for nearly three years, and throughout that time he's visited your workplace more times than you can count. Usually to spend your lunch breaks with you, sometimes just so he can sit and be in your company as you work.

Which your boss is completely fine with, for some reason unknown to you.

Oftentimes you find yourself wishing you could do the same for him, on the nights where he doesn't come home until stupidly late, but every time you bring up maybe bringing him lunch on your days off, he shoots you down entirely. Like a bird out of the sky, or some other stupid simile you can't be bothered trying to come up with.

It's quite different for him, being a federal agent and such, working with sensitive subjects and often in harsh environments, so you suppose it does make sense that he would want to keep you away from all that. Still, you can't help but feel a little hurt and slightly embarrassed every time he denies your requests.

And yet...

"You sound tired," you comment softly, stirring the pot of chicken soup in front of you.

"Mhm."

"Have you eaten anything yet?"

There's no response, which is answer enough for you.

"Lovey, you need to eat," you say with a sigh, putting down the spoon you were stirring with and lean back against the counter beside the stove.

"I know," he mumbles quietly.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes turned down to the ground. "I'm making chicken soup, I could bring you some for dinner, if you'd like?" you suggest weakly. "And some of the bread I finished making earlier. You know, I could sit with you for a while."

Before he's even responded, you're bracing yourself for rejection.

"That would be nice," he sighs.

Immediately, the tension in your body melts away, a tiny smile making its way onto your face.

"You want me to bring one of those cinnamon rolls you like, too?"

"Yes please..." His voice is so quiet, you're sure he's practically falling asleep at his desk.

"Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes."

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Spencer doesn't really think about much when he hangs up the phone. Only that he's really hungry right now, and that he really likes your chicken soup.

The fact that his coworkers don't even know you exist doesn't cross his mind once. Only when you're actually walking into the bullpen, does he realize he should've given them a bit of a heads up, because everyone is looking at you now.

No horrible looks, of course, they're only curious of who you are and why you're here, but you've never particularly liked people looking at you. It makes you feel all anxious and jittery.

Your eyes quickly scan the room (definitely taking note of all the people watching you) and when you finally find your target, a small smile makes it onto your face, despite the discomfort.

He pulls another chair over to his desk as you make your way over, walking just a little faster usual, and place one of those reusable supermarket bags in front of him.

"Hey there," you murmur, bringing his hand to your face so you can press a soft kiss to the back of it. This time, he doesn't even mention how many stupid pathogens can be passed through your hands.

"Beautiful girl," is all he says, quiet and uncharacteristically drowsy, as he reaches into the bag and pulls everything out. Two perfectly warm thermoses, a brown paper bag with some of your fresh bread inside, and two saran-wrapped cinnamon rolls that you've already heated.

You chuckle softly, taking your share of the food and offering him a hunk of warm bread.

Spencer bites off a chunk of the bread and really takes a look at you, now that you're distracted with your own soup. You're wearing a baby pink milkmaid dress, the same one you wore to your sisters baby shower last year, and a white cardigan with little flowers embroidered all over it.

He gifted you the plain cardigan, you were the one who added all the flowers and personal touches.

"I really appreciate this," he hums, finally opening the thermos of soup and spooning some of it into his mouth with one of the metal utensils you brought with you.

"I'm always happy to bring you food when you need it, lovey. Even when you don't necessarily need it, I'll come running," you say in a low voice, sipping your own soup straight from the thermos. "I wish you'd let me do it more. Even when you're not starving and sleep deprived."

He chuckles at the playful lilt in your voice, but knows you're actually being completely serious. "Maybe we can make this a more regular. On the nights I can't be at home—"

"And who might this be?" someone asks, appearing suddenly enough for you to jump a little.

You turn your head the smallest fraction to find another man leaning against Spencer's desk, a (seemingly permanent) smirk breaking through the tired, clouded expression everyone here is sporting.

"Uhm—hi—erm..."

You glance over at Spencer, who is, for the most part, paying no attention to the encounter, simply sipping on his soup and gnawing on his bread like he hasn't eaten in weeks.

"I'm Y/N," you manage, in a voice soft enough to bring serial killers to their knees (now there's an idea), wiping your hands on the fabric covering your thighs and sticking one of them out.

The man hums, eyes flicking between yourself and the man seated beside you. "I don't think Spencer's ever mentioned you before."

Your smile falters slightly, but doesn't disappear completely. "I'm his girlfriend," you say, "and I never really expected him to talk about me here. He said he wouldn't, anyway."

"Girlfriend?" he asks, as if it's the craziest thing he's ever heard. "You. Are Spencer's girlfriend? Spencer has a girlfriend?"

That seems to grab the aforementioned mans attention.

"Morgan. Is it really so hard to comprehend," he asks, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close—as close as he can, with the chairs in the way, "that I could find a beautiful woman to love me?"

Ah. Derek Morgan, that explains it.

"You know that's not what I mean," Morgan argues, the smile not leaving his face. "And now, if you don't mind, I'll be around. Telling everyone. That you've got a gorgeous girlfriend, and kept it from us."

Neither of you have a chance to argue before he's gone. You're honestly surprised he didn't ask exactly how long it's been, but you're sure he wouldn't have liked the answer, so you don't push it.

"...this is great soup, by the way. I love you."

You chuckle, red coloring your face. "Thanks. I love you, too, baby."

[malesuite]

"So I was saying."

We got interrupted then. Sam sat back. As that dip shit Juan came up to us with a pamphlet. The school yard was a buzz. Break was about to end.

"You were saying?"

"You've seen my dick. Its small."

"Is it? You a grower? My dick is small when I'm cold and when, I don't know, it just is small sometimes. In the locker room I tug at it so I don't shrink too much. What are you asking me?" There are small dicks large dicks and everything in between."

"Of course I get a Boner. I don't want a boner in the locker room does anyone?"

"I'm listening."

"I just feel inferior."

"I think but for a few guys every one feels that."

"You don't"

"I do."

"You feel inferior because of your cock."

"Yeah sometimes I let it get to me, especially when I got shrinkage."

"Well what is the normal size?"

"You mean average size. Normal is pretty much 2' to 7" I guess. You could look it up."

"How do you measure a cock?"

"I don't know maybe the most accurate way is if every measure is of a hard cock. Put the ruler on the top start at your body and measure to the tip I guess."

"Hard. You have doe this?"

"Yeah. but don't sweat it. Guys that talk about the size of another guys cock have issues. So don't let that conversation even take your time just leave it, don't respond to it. If pressed just say grow up."

"So you don't look at my dick or know what size it is?"

"Yeah of course I've seen your dick. We are in the same gym class. You have a nice dick. Okay is this settled now?"

"I have seen your dick, a little hard once or twice as well. Your dick is bigger than mine. Is yours an average size?"

"Yeah that is the consensus. We got to get to class."

"I'm going to send you a dick pic later today but you got to erase it after you see it and then I got another couple of questions. Don't look at me like I'm some kind of idiot."

"Really? Don't obsess about this."

"Todd you are the only one I can resolve this with. I was thinking I could go talk to the doctor about it but my folks would have to know about it. God I'm embarrassed."

"Okay, but what answer are you really after?"

"I'll call you tonight. I can just come over."

As we get to class the bell rings. Sam looks over to me a couple of times kind of sheepishly so I look away. Poor guy is stressed out and I'm resigning myself to help him. We walk home together for most of the way, until I reach my street and he continues.

"What time you coming over?"

"7:30 okay?

"Yeah, sure, fine. I'll call if things change or you call me too."

Dinner was done. I got Sam's picture like he said. In the picture his cock was sticking out with a full hard on. He's bigger than I thought. I did't know what I thought his cock would measure but In the picture he has a ruler on top and he measures less than 4" but about 4". I did think about erasing the pic but it was kind of hot. I didn't want to think that but I got a little hard. I wondered how it would feel. Then I dismissed all thought of it.

While I took the trash cans to the street I see Sam walking my way. He's early but then I thought he would be early.

"Hi, got your pic."

"I'm early. I was going to wait out here for a while but here you are."

"You want to go inside? Help me with the green can?"

"Yeah. I have to do this too at home.

As we walk in dad looks up and just nods.

"Hi, Sam its been awhile since you have been here hasn't it?"

"Hi, yeah been awhile we don't have projects together I guess."

We headed for the back of the house to my bedroom. We said nothing for a bit. Sam looks at my shelves looking at what I don't know.

"You think we are private?"

"Yeah we are at the back of the house. You like Metalica don't you?"

"Dads music, yeah although I haven't in a while." said Sam. I listen to a lot of odd artists. I found a Queen CD at the thrift store. I like."

"I have one. I'll play it. You haven't been here in a long time. We used to play a lot of odd stuff, even classical. God I loved the Rachmaninoff CD. The music starts. "Great picture by the way. Mind if I keep it for awhile? Leave it on my phone or move it to my computer?"

"No don't keep it."

"Okay I tried. I wanted some personal porn though. See I'm erasing it." I smiled at him as I showed him the screen and hit the trash button. Sam didn't know if he was flattered or living a horror.

"About that." He paused. "Why are you flattering me about that?"

"You look good, hot. What are you afraid of? What's up?" I think I knew something about Sam, enough to know that he is gay. He never said it to me and probably had not confessed to anyone. I think my mom thought it too but then I think she knows I'm gay too. I had decided that I wasn't going to tell Sam until just this moment that I am gay but I wasn't going to tell anyone else, maybe until I went to college. I don't care what people think but I'm not going to fuel it if I can help it.

"You know I'm gay don't you? I'm afraid that I can't be loved if I have a small dick. It hurts me if you joke about my cock being hot. I don't know anything but I feel so much. Some things I want to feel with another person but I'm afraid. I have been hiding things and I'm tired of it.

"Sam, I'm gay. You are the only person that I have told. I want to keep that between us. Is that okay? I do think your cock pic is hot. I want to share myself with you if you want to share too. I took Sam's arm. What do you say? Tell me what is bothering you.

"Can you hold me? Sam asked. Then he whispered that he needed someone to love him as he is. We can learn together.

"You should not feel inferior. I could feel inferior as well. I have seen log cocks and I confess a nice cock is something to behold. I have bunch of them on my computer but I imagine the best cock the most awesome are those that are shared with another. Feel me. Can I feel you?

"So when do we fuck?" Sam whispered back. "You feel good."

"So do you." Then we started to laugh.

[st7rnioioss]

۶ৎ FARMERS!DAUGHTER!READER x COWBOY!MATT STURNIOLO

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... smut, fluff, reader thinking she might be pregnant, comforting, slight angst?, crying but matt comforts her, raging breeding kink, grinding/dry humping (f), kissing, unprotected sex (don't do this!), p in v, breeding/coming inside, slight overstimulation, masturbation (briefly), matt coming in her underwear (wow that's a lotttt)

you were pacing. walking back and forth in your room, hand to your stomach while you tried to push the sickening feeling of throwing up and fainting away at the same time.

for the past week or so, you’ve felt terrible. it wasn’t like a usual cold, plus, it was searing hot outside. and you didn’t catch the flu either. you’d been eating like normal, not stressed at all, and you hadn’t been anywhere near anything you’d never been close to before… you’ve had crazy morning sickness, sore breasts, and nausea, and you just couldn’t figure out why. until it hit you.

sure, you knew you and matt’s sex life was risky, considering his raging breeding kink and the way you literally let him breed you. but after having protected sex more than a few times, you decided to just get on birth control. it was the easy option, right? and now you’re here, nervously walking around, convinced there’d been a slight slip-up.

it didn’t take long before you were driving to matt’s house with a pregnancy test you hadn’t checked yet, with trembling hands knocking on his door while twirling anxiously with the hem of your skirt. you were completely aware you must look like another person like you had been sick for the past week. you just wanted him to be out somewhere, and then handle all this without anyone knowing.

“hey the- woah. woah, woah, hey, are you a’ight?” he asked when he opened the door, immediately letting his hands wander around your waist when he saw the way your eyes immediately teared up when they met his. he cradled you to his chest, shushing you when you let out a few soft sobs into the soft material of his flannel.

“darlin’, shhh.. hey, what’s got you all worked up, huh?” he questioned with a soft tone to his voice, bringing you inside to his kitchen, and heisting you onto the counter. gently, he tilted your head upwards by your chin, wanting to properly watch you while the other hand rested on your bare thigh. “c’mon, you can tell me, baby..”

you nodded slowly at his gentle words, letting out a long sigh followed by a sniffle. “it’s- um… well, i do- i don’t know how to say it.. it’s complicated.” you whimpered, resting your forehead onto his shoulder when he stepped closer, both his hands running down your sides.

“take your time, alright? i’m not goin’ anywhere..” he mumbled softly, brushing his fingers through your soft hair while pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. you kept your breathing somewhat steady, your mind reeling and heart going a million miles per hour. you didn’t wanna dance around the confession, so you decided to just rip the bandaid.

“matt, i think- i think i might be pregnant,” you whispered, keeping your face buried in his neck while speaking. you could easily feel the way his body tensed a little bit, his fingers stilling in your hair. he had no clue how to react, his mind completely blank when your words sunk in.

“wh- what?” he then said, shocked, but not exactly unhappy. he pulled back from you, looking down at your glossy eyes and pink nose as he cupped your face in his hands.

“i- i’m not sure, but.. i asked the lady at the pharmacy for symptoms and stuff.. i have- have a test. i haven’t checked it yet.” the test was stuffed in your back pocket, fishing it out to show matt, purposely turning it face down so you couldn’t see. your hand was slightly trembling. there were so many questions left unanswered. would he be happy? are you really gonna raise a kid? what wouldn’t your dad say?

he was completely in utter disbelief. yeah, he’d always insist on finishing inside of you, but you were on the pill, so it never crossed his mind you’d end up pregnant. but.. as wicked as it sounds, something inside him flicked on. you, walking around with his seed planted deep inside of you, forever marked you up with a little kiddo? gosh…

“it’s- gonna be okay. yeah? we’ll figure it out, i mean, maybe it’s negative. maybe you’re just a little ill, baby.” he left a fat kiss on your forehead, making you break a tiny smile. “yeah.. yeah, okay, maybe you’re right about that…” a long sigh followed your words, looking down at the test in your hand.

slowly, and carefully, you twisted it around, watching as the stripes slowly came to be visible. you immediately looked up at matt, a perplexed look on your face. would he be disappointed if it was positive? did he actually want the kid, or was it just that stupid kink? his wide eyes met yours, a faint reassuring smile growing on his lips.

the test was negative.

“are you happy?” he asked softly, his voice quiet but fully coherent. with a small nod, you smiled back weakly. “yeah. yeah, i’m happy. it’s fine, we’ve got plenty of time to have kids together…” you batted your eyes at him, smiling wider when he spoke. “yeah. i’m happy if you are,” he pulled you into a tight hug, leaving the test on the counter when you wrapped your arms around his neck to leave a kiss on his cheek.

“we’ll be alright..” his words were muffled, his lips starting to leave kisses down the side of your face while his fingers dug into your waist, lips reaching your neck and collarbone.

he knew it was fucked up, but the image of you knocked up with his kid made his head spin more than he’d like to admit. sure, he was sort of relieved when the test came negative, neither one of you was ready to raise a fucking child. but just the thought? his cum fucked deep inside of you, breeding you, until you had little kiddos running around? he was brick hard.

before any of you knew it, he’d been leaving tiny red marks down your neck, that he was sure would turn a darker purple tomorrow. your lips were parted, eyes fluttered shut in bliss while his teeth nibbled on your soft skin. “fuck, matt..” that little whine ignited the whole thing all over again, back to the start just a few days ago.

“god damnit, i can’t keep my hands off you..” he groaned, wrapping your legs around his waist to let his hands grab your ass while moving you to his couch, giving it a soft squeeze before slipping you carefully when you laid there, sprawled out on the couch. “i need you, baby…” your pretty voice sounded, looking up at him with a pleading look, a small pout plastered on your lips. gosh, that look made him want to fuck his cum inside you all over again, even make sure to hide the fucking pills you took, just to make you pregnant for real this time.

“you have no clue what you do to me,” his voice was gruff and rough, gently placing a knee between your legs while leaning down, his hands gripping the armrest for support before leaving a quick, teasing peck to your lips.

it wasn’t long before he was licking at your mouth, lewd noises of exchanging spit filling the room, along with a soft whimper slipping past your wet lips rubbing against matt’s. by now, you’re grinding down on his knee, a relief from the ache between your legs. carefully, you rolled your hips over his knee, leaving a slight wet spot on his jeans from the way you were already soaked through your panties. matt was quick to notice the way you almost pathetically rubbed yourself on his leg, disconnecting his lips from yours in a slow motion.

“shit, you want it that bad? hm?” he whispered into your ear, lips grazing your skin, making shivers run down your spine. he let go of the headrest with one hand, letting it slip under your skirt to feel your wet pussy grind onto his knee. his fingertips were immediately met with the drenched fabric, a smirk tugging on his still glistening lips from the desperate whine you let out.

“please, matt. i need you, so bad…” you pleaded with a sweet voice. he then quickly shifted your bodies, making you straddle his thigh while keeping his hands on your waist to have you on top of him. you yelped in surprise, carefully settling on his jean-clad thigh. “yeah? help yourself, darlin’..” his voice was teasing, almost daring as if to see if you’d actually give in—but he’d make you anyway.

you turned beet red, looking down at the thigh between your leg, resting deliciously against your needy pussy. “umm.. okay..” your voice was quiet, almost shy, when you rested your hands onto his shoulders, starting to tug your skirt off while standing up, before settling back onto his thigh with a nervous look.

matt was ogling at your hips with his jaw slack, watching the way your hips deliberately dragged along his thigh, a needy whimper of pleasure eliciting from your parted lips. you’d never done anything like this, the feeling almost overwhelming as your panties nudged at your clit whine you continued to hump his leg. matt was aching in his pants. he was one-hundred percent he’d never been so hard in his entire life, palming him through his jeans with a groan, the other hand resting on your hips to keep your pace somewhat continuous. he so desperately wanted to pump at his cock while watching you, but somehow the restraint made the whole thing much better.

“fuck! matt, please, just- just fuck me,” you moaned sweetly. but he didn’t give in to your repeated pleading. instead, he continued to watch the needy way you kept grinding down on his thigh, almost desperate to come already by the way you left a dark spot on the fabric below you. your eyes fluttered shut, eyebrows knitting into straight up pleasure while a particularly loud gasp sounded, your jaw going slack.

“come on, baby, you can keep going f’me, hm? soaking my fuckin’ thigh.. good girl,” he left a gentle pat to your cheek, listening your pathetic little whimpers and whines while your head was thrown forward. it was almost humiliating in a way, letting him watch you get yourself off in a desperate manner—but you enjoyed it, so there was nothing stopping you.

you continued to drag your needy clit along his tense muscle, before a sudden loud whimper slipped from your mouth, nails digging into his shoulder when you finished in your panties. he gently patted your cheek, watching your bottom lip get tucked between your lips as you let out needy and high-pitched whimpers. “juuuust like that.. you did so good for me, baby, soaking my fuckin’ thigh just like that?” your legs were trembling around his, cheeks almost sorching when you looked back up at him with a whimper.

not even five minutes had gone by, before you were bent over the armrest of the couch, palms and nails digging uncomfortably into the cushions—but that was the last think you were thinking about right now. what you were thinking about, was the way matt absolutely pounded into you, no signs of slowing down. you were drooling around his cock, the lewd squelching noises being heard besides your highs groans and whimpers.

“jesus- you’d look so fuckin’ good, all round and fucked pregnant by me, wouldn’t you?” he groaned into your ear, continuing to slam his hips into the curve of your ass, leaning back to watch the soft skin recoil back. he wasn’t expecting an answer from you, aware of how your mind was reeling from the shamelessly loud moans falling from your parted lips.

you were completely fucked into bliss, eyes stuck in the back of your head, mouth agape and head thrown forward. your mind didn’t even process what he was grossly whispering, too busy thinking about the way his hard cock was bruising your insides at all the right places.

“matt! s- so.. good..” was all you could muster out, leaving matt to chuckle. “yeah? you look so cute, darlin’. all stupid on my big cock, aren’t you? i bet you’d like for me to stuff you full..” again, he asked rhetorically, continuing his hard thrusts into your sloppy pussy while grabbing a good handful of your hair. “pl-please- i need.. t’cum..” you managed to babble, feeling his hand slide up your back to push you further down, him movements stilling for a moment, before he slammed back into you. your moans only grew in volume and pitch, clawing at the cushions.

“gonna fill you up sooo nicely, sweetheart.. fu- fuck!” he groaned, his thrusts starting to turn sloppy and weak when you clenched around him, almost desperate to feel him pump his cum into you. “please! gon- g’nna cum..!” you whimpered, before he pinched your clit between his fingers while nudging at that sweet spot inside you, making you shriek in pleasure. he was trying his best to hold back, but it got harder when you babbling and slurred your words between moans, the dirty squelching of your pussy only adding to the whole thing.

“matt, shittt.. i’m coming- i’m-“ you yelped, before squeezing around his throbbing cock when he rubbed your clit in circles. your legs trembled beneath you, making it nearly impossible to hold yourself up, but you managed to stay upright. “christ.. gonna fuck my cum so deep into ya… make you pregnant on purpose this time, yeah -” he groaned, his head thrown back while squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his cock start to leak the substance inside of you from jus the thought.

“- gonna hide those stupid, fuckin’ pills..” you were whining and writhing in overstimulation, your pussy raw and sensitive from his continuous thrusts—but his words only made you want to redo the whole process, let him make you cum over and over again. “matt, s.. stop, i can’t-“ but after all, the sensitivity and overstimulation got to you, making it hard to allow him to keep going.

your desperation and fucked out whimpers of a mix pain and pleasure only egged him further, gripping your hair tighter. “fuuuuck, princess. gonna stuff you full..” those were his last words, before his throbbing cock spilled it’s sticky liquid inside of you, finishing with one last thrust. you were both a moaning mess, his hand slowly slipping out of your hair, before pulling out of you. for a moment or two, he watched your glistening pussy leaking with his cum whenever you clenched around nothing. gosh, he was almost hard again from just the sight.

“jesus fuckin’ christ..” you panted, your chest heaving when you attempted to catch your breath. you then felt his hands reach for your panties, and the same time as the white fluid trickled down your inner thigh. “wha- what are you doing?” you looked back at him, seeing the way he starts to fist his sensitive cock.

“jus’- just wait..” he’s stroking his already spent cock, red and leaking from his previous release. you watched him in awe, your eyes flickering from the way he ran his thumb over his tip, to his face curling into one of pleasure,

“oh- oh my fuck..” he whimpered, quickly milking himself completely dry, by squirting the white remains into your panties. you were watching intently, your face turning more red by the second. he was so spent, finally letting go of his dick to focus on your leaking pussy. gently, he ran two fingers over your folds, eliciting a squeal from you. he then continued to push a mix of yours and his cum back into your puffy walls, making you moan out in pleasure before he stopped.

agonizingly slowly, he tugged your now completely ruined panties back up your legs, before letting them sit perfectly like they normally would. “shhh… feels good? doesn’t it?” he leaned down to press a kiss to your upper back, two fingers against pressing up against your pussy, this time pantie-clad. the icky feeling of his cum smearing over your pussy made you wince, a quiet gasp leaving your lips while he managed to pull his boxers back up.

“yeah.. i like it matt,” you got to stand back up, turning to him before you met his lips in a gentle kiss, his hands gripping at your waist. “mhm, gotta get you home to your daddy now, don’t ya think?” he mumbled against your lips, his tongue darting out to swipe across your bottom lip.

all you could do was nod dumbly, mind still fogging up from the uncomfortable, but yet delicious feeling between your legs, getting lost in the kiss.

more farmers!daughter!reader here!

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[heavyhitterheaux]

Has there ever been a time where wifey had a pregnancy scare and freaked out because the relationship was new and they were still in schooll

Yes and it happened during Heisman Weekend 😭😭

They had been together for about a year at that point and he asked her to come with him to New York. She had been feeling weird for a few weeks leading up to her taking her finals, but thought nothing of it. She figured it was stress until she realized that she didn't get her period.

It was the day before they were supposed to leave for New York when Joe noticed something was off about her. She didn't want to worry him and was going to tell him when they got back on Monday, but Joe can read her like a book and knows when something is bothering her. So, ultimately he got her to tell him.

They were simply laying on the couch in his apartment watching Christmas movies when he confronted her about it.

“Baby…”

“Yes?”

“What are you hiding from me? You aren't acting like yourself.” Joe wasn't sugarcoating anything and asked her flat out.

“I… what? Nothing. I'm literally just sitting here.”

“I know when something is off with you. Don't lie to me.” He replied as he paused the movie and turned her around to face him.

“I don't want to tell you until we get back on Monday.”

“Is it really going to make a difference?”

“I just don't want anything hanging over your head and have you worrying about anything.”

“But I am worried about something. My girlfriend. Who is very important to me. And I'll still worry all weekend so just tell me now.”

“I haven't gotten my period.” She whispered and Joe asked her to repeat herself.

“What was that? You need to speak up, princess.”

“I didn't get my period. And it's never late.”

All the color drained from Joe's face, but he quickly composed himself not wanting to scare her even more.

She was too scared to take a pregnancy test before they left and Joe made her promise them that they would do it first thing when they got back.

When the test was negative, there was a sense of relief as well as a sense of what could have been between both of them. But, he did tell her that no matter what the outcome was that they were going to make it work.

[l-starsz]

hiiii you’re so good at writing I love all your fics 🫶🏻

I see so many fics where billie comforts the reader but I’d love one where reader comforts Billie. Maybe she’s stressed from tour or something?!

a/n: like i keep saying, i’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this but i’m working on them now, and thank you so much that’s so sweet☹️🫶🫶

i walked into the hotel room to see billie sat on the end of the bed with her head in her hands. i rushed towards her, sitting on the bed next to her and carefully speaking.

"what's wrong baby? why are you so worked up huh?"

without moving her hands from her face, she shuffled closer to me as i wrapped my arms around her, letting her cry against me. i ran one of my hands up and down her back and placed gentle kisses on top of her head, soothing her so that she was calm enough to speak.

"tell me what's bothering you my love." i whispered to her, still holding her against me.

"tour.. i love touring, but its been so stressful lately!! it's been so difficult for me."

"oh baby.." i frowned, holding onto her tighter, "i'm here bil. don't panic. i've got you. i'm gonna be here for the whole of the tour like i have been since it started, if you're on stage and you start getting stressed and overwhelmed, come backstage to me, okay? i'll do everything i can to help you and make sure you'll be okay."

"but.. but i don't wanna cancel any shows.. i still wanna do them for everyone because i love them all so much." she slightly hiccuped.

"i know angel. you don't have to cancel any shows if you don't want to, just do what you feel like you need to do to make yourself less stressed. if you need to sit backstage for a few minutes until you're ready to go back out, then you can do that. they all love you just as much as you love them, i promise you that if you need some time, then they will understand. and you know what? i know you struggle sometimes when i can't be there next to you, so even if you just needed me to go sit or stand on stage with you, then i would."

"but you hate going on stage. you said it makes you nervous." she sniffled, moving so that she was curled up on my lap.

"it does make me a little nervous, but if it was something that you needed to make you less stressed, then i'd do it without a doubt. making sure you're okay is all that will matter to me. now, and forever." i moved her hands from her face and wiped away her tears as they continued to fall down her cheeks.

"really? you mean it?" she mumbled.

"i promise you."

"i'm so lucky to have you." her voice broke as she quietly answered me.

"i'm luckier to have you baby. you mean everything to me, and you do so much for me all the time, even if you're busy you still make time for me and spend time with me. i can't thank you enough my love." i gently kissed her when i was done talking.

we sat there in the same position for a little while before i spoke again.

"how about we take a quick bath to relax a bit, then have a me and you night. we can get into bed and watch movies, or we can play a game, we can do whatever you want."

"that sounds amazing. thank you." she whispered, hiding her face in my neck as she snuggled impossibly closer to me.

i slowly got up and carries her into the bathroom, placing her on the counter for a minute whilst i started to run the bath and made sure it was the perfect temperature. i also put some music on for us, then went back to billie whilst the bath was filling up. i placed my hands on her waist and slightly went on my tiptoes to kiss her, since she was on the counter, it made her a bit taller. as we pulled away from the kiss, i noticed a small smile now on her face. of course, this made me smile, knowing that i could make her just as happy as she makes me when i'm struggling with things.

that small moment felt like it laster forever, but i was soon moving away to pour some bubble bath in into the water, letting it bubble up before turning the tap off. i carefully lifted her off the counter and undressed her, then held her hand as she got into the bath, making sure she didn't slip. i was quick to undress myself too, getting in behind her and tying her hair up so that it wouldn't get wet. i did the same with my hair before holding her in my arms once again. we stayed there for a bit just talking to eachother and relaxing until the water began to go cold.

i slowly got up from behind her, getting out and drying myself, dressing myself, and then helping her out. i wrapped her in a warm fluffy towel, then we both left the bathroom to find some warm clothes for bil to wear. once she was dressed, we got into bed and turned the tv on, put a movie on, then cuddled all night until we were asleep.

[sharksandsquirrelsandsnakes-ohmy]

Read on AO3: The human bit the werewolf?

Stiles chews on things almost compulsively, always has.

He has a binky as a toddler that had to be ripped away crying and screaming even though he'd chew through them. He chewed the lid to every sippy cup he had and the straw to every cup after.

It was funny at first, they'd call him a little chipmunk or a bunny. When it inevitably got annoying, people made thinnly veiled insults about being like a poorly trained doy or a goat.

As a kid, he chewed on the loose-hanging bit of his backpack straps. He was once gifted a cross necklace and he'd always put it in his mouth to fidget with until his dad took it away during church. He chewed on his erasers. When they were taken away, he'd chew on the metal bit of his pencils, and then he'd start chewing on the pencil itself when they took that. If they ever took his pencils, he'd start chewing on his nails or his shirt.

He still chews on his pencils. In fact, he tends to rip the clip off the mechanical ones to chew on them. He’d stick the jeep key in his mouth and rub it between his teeth. At least now, teachers don't freak out if he has gum.

It'd always been like that. Stiles didn’t really know why or what drove it, probably his ADHD since he's never had an original experience in his life(barring the supernatural). That was only half of it, though.

Then there was the biting. And, if Stiles had been a werewolf, things would have gone awry much sooner.

He often got the urge to bite things or people he cared for– after many hors of stressed googling, he figured out it was probably just a form of cuteness aggression his brain didn't properly filter. That said, he used to regularly bite his parents and Scott when he was little, before he was taught not to.

Then he started dating Malia and it got worse. He stuffed the urge down for a while, chewing his pen or nails instead.

The first time he did bite her– it was more of a nip really– it was done playfully when they were talking and joking after having sex. He really thought he’d fucked up when she pinned him against the bed on reflex. Then she told him to do it again.

She'd tell him to bite her while they had sex so he, of course, thought it was a kink thing. When Malia would catch him staring at her and chewing on his pens, she'd glare at him. Apparently, she got annoyed with him and, in a very Malia way of dealing with things, pinned him down against his bed and interrogated him about it.

"Why do you only bite me when we have sex?"

"Wha—"

"I know you want to do it more often, so why don't you," she asked, glaring down at Stiles.

"You want me to bite you more," Stiles asked, shear confusion in his voice.

"Obviously, dumbass," Malia scoffed.

Stiles might he an idiot at times, but he's not too stupid to do what he's told, especially when it benefits him too. And, sure, it was weird the first few times he did it, but it also didn't at all. He’d occasionally just take Malia's hand in his and bring it to his mouth and nip at her fingers.

It was weirdly normal, an easy habit to fall into. The only thing that made it weird was when people stared at them for it, and Malia was quick to remedy that.

When they broke up, Stiles found himself back at square one, chewing his pencils and trying to ignore his brain. It mostly resulted in a lot of teeth grinding.

Stiles started to notice the need to chewnon something got worse around the pack. He tried to chalk it up to his subconscious reacting to Malia, which he knew was bull shit. He knew what it was, who it was.

When Derek would cross his arms and flex just perfect to frame the muscles in his arms and chest or when he'd use the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat off his face, showing off his ab-muscles, or when he'd wipe blood off his face with the back of his hand, or raise his eyebrows at Stiles in annoyance, or– honestly– just exist in the mear vicinity of Stiles, it was like he teeth itched to bite him. Just a little nip, as a treat, ya know? Sometimes the irony of it would hit him, Stiles wanting to bite the werewolf when it should be the other way around. Then again, Stiles had rather regularly bitten Malia, the were-coyote while they dated.

Stiles had problems. Psychological problems.

One late night of blurry-eyed research, Derek snuck in through Stiles's open window and found him asleep at his desk with about a million b's typed into the search bar. He sighed to himself and tried to wake Stiles up. He at least wanted to get the idiot to sleep in bed rather than hunched over the desk.

"Stiles, wake up," Derek whispered, not wanted to alert sheriff of his presence.

Stiles hummed and looked at Derek tiredly.

"Come on, let's get you to bed,"Derek grumbled, lifting Stiles out of the chair so he was standing up even though Derek was supporting most of his weight.

"Thankks Der," Stiles mumbled, letting himself be guided to bed. "Ya know, you’re cute when your nice," he hummed, not fully grasping how much he'd regret it later.

Derek didn't say anything more, rather he tried to ignore the sleepy mumblings.

"So cute I could just..." Stiles clicked his teeth together in a mock bite.

In his tired state, he fully missed how Derek’s face turned red. He tossed the blankets aside and plopped Stiles down on the bed. He didn't stick around much longer, deciding he'd get the info he came for second-hand from Scott.

Stiles noticed how Derek was pointedly absent absent in the next few days. If he wanted information from Stiles, he'd ask Scott or one of the betas to ask. Stiles could text Derek about something and would be lucky to receive a one word text back.

He remembered Derek swinging by and talking some but not about what. He was sure his big mouth was ruining things again, just not how bad.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek started being willing– and able– to be around again. Still, the others ketp giving him weird looks. He also noticed that Derek would look away everytime Stiles looked at his, as if he’d been caught staring.

Of course, things couldn't possibly be normal for more than five minutes in Beacon Hills and especially not with their little group. Inevitable, things went to Hell.

Stiles couldn’t have even told you what it was they'd been fighting– some goat or bull creature with horns. He remembered the horns because he'd gotten the business end of them and a matching concussion. Really, all he remembered was sitting on the cold bathroom floor, watching Derek’s muscle move under his skin as he patched up Isaac or Scott, maybe Jackson.

That bitting itch– pun intended– grew in his head and Stiles just... leaned forward and bit Derek’s arm. His skin was salty with sweat and he could feel the hair against his skin.

He didn’t realize how quiet or still it had gotten when he leaned back. He didn't realize for a while.

"Stiles, did you just bite me," Derek asked as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. He was caught between concern and confusion and arousal but was really trying to stick with concern.

"I did," Stiles asked back, surprised he'd acted on the thought. "Shit, sorry dude. I tend to— I don't know why... Fuck, my head hurts," he sighed, trying to form a coherent explanation.

Before Stiles could figure out how to put things into words, Scott was driving him to the hospital.

And, once again, Derek was avoiding him, only worse! Stiles couldn’t get an answer through text. Derek was never there whe the pack met up. When Stiles tried to stop by the loft to talk, Derek was never there. On top of which, Stiles swore he'd see Derek out of the corner of his eye but there was nobody there when he looked. He was genuinely starting to feel crazy.

He was sure he'd fucked up really bad when goddamn Peter showed up at the school to talk to him.

"Stiles, let's go for a walk," Peter said in his fake nice, higher than thou, tone.

"I’m not supposed to talk to creepy mass murders," Stiles said back, walking towards the jeep instead.

"Now, don't you want to know why my dear nephew has been avoiding you," Peter goaded and Stiles begrudgingly stopped walking. "I must say, you are a rather forward one. I didn’t expect it, though it seems quite obvious in hindsight," he mused.

Stiles shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"From what I understand, you bit my dear nephew without forewarning and in front of everyone. Might as well have stuck your hand in his pocket and kissed him as well," Peter teased.

"Whoa, whoa whoa, what the Hell are you talking about," Stiles asked, starting to get a little freaked out.

"What, do you not do that anymore," Peter asked rhetorically. "I always thought putting your hand in someone else's pocket was rather uncomfortable, but it was a blatant sign that you were together."

"God, I know what the pocket thing means," Stiles said, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "But why are you bringing it up?"

"I know you're not a complete idiot. That's why you're not dead... Yet," Peter added. "You dated Malia so I'm sure you understand why biting Derek was such an ordeal."

"Not, I actually don't. Explaining things isn't exactly Malia's strong suit," Stiles shot back, internally kicking himself seconds after remembering Peter was Malia's birth father. "That didn't sound right. I—"

"Stop digging the hole now," Peter told him, holding a hand up. "Malia didn't tell you, and it was never anything you came across in your research?"

"Obviously not."

"Oh, dear boy," Peter said with a slimey smirk, "biting for us is the equivalent of announcing someone is your partner. However, I'm even more curious why you did it now..."

Stiles decided quickly he was not elaborating on the why. "So, I basically told everyone - including him - that Derek and I are dating, and he immediately had me swept off the ER and is now avoiding me? Nope, still weird," he said and walked off.

Peter, having not expected this turn of events and having no more cards to play, let him walk away. "Well, this will be interesting..."

[rainbowsky]

In the last months I was wondering and being a bit preoccupied with GG not having new endorsements and losing existing ones. Also with him staying away from show appearances and now not going on any NY show. But the last couple of days I keep thinking that he’s trying to escape that “traffic star” stigma and keeping it low key. Even though his album broke any record there was ti be broken. What do you think of GG’s “behavior” towards the c-ent this past year?

Hi Karamelina2005 😊

If you're genuinely hand-wringing over GG's career and endorsements, I think that's a pointless waste. GG is doing exceptionally well. While he doesn't have as many endorsements as DD does right now, the ones he does have are dominated by luxury brands and high end products. He's also still one of the top people in the industry in terms of number of endorsement contracts. He's doing fine.

Frankly, when an endorsement of his doesn't renew I always assume it's because they can't afford him anymore. No one - no one - has the power to move goods like GG does. No one is even on the same continent when it comes to sales. Let me guarantee you he's one of - if not THE - most sought after brand endorsement contracts in China.

I don't know how long you've been around, but over time you'll likely come to see that endorsements come and go. It's a totally normal, totally routine part of doing business. Brands are constantly shifting their strategies and adjusting their audience targets, budgets fluctuate, etc. etc. etc. - all of this leading to changes in spokespeople. This is completely normal.

I also think it's important for fans to remember that GG and DD are not social media influencers, they're actors. Endorsements will never be the central focus of their careers, and if anything they're likely to gradually do fewer endorsements as their careers become more serious and more established. Fans should resist the urge to measure GG and DD's careers by endorsement contracts.

Artists in China are also required by the government to be accountable for the brands they endorse. They must only endorse products and services they themselves or close family members are using. Someone like GG is going to be very picky about which contracts he takes on. He's a shrewd businessman who cares about how he is perceived and what he represents.

Frankly, the kind of people who worry about this type of thing tend to be insecure fans who are trying compete to one-up other fandoms for whose idol has the most clout. It's incredibly stupid and pointless.

We don't even know the details of their endorsement contracts, so it's pointless to try to bean-count over them. What would you rather have - 10 contracts valued at $100K each, or one valued at $1 million? The amount of money might be the same, but the amount of work is dramatically different.

So I urge people not to worry about such things. We don't know what's really happening behind the scenes.

As for live appearances, he hasn't done a live NYE performance for years. I honestly don't know why people still insist on expecting it of him. It's obviously not something he's making a priority.

Why? Well, only GG knows for sure, but I suspect there are multiple factors at play. The traffic star issue is a big one I've talked a lot about in the past. Both GG and DD have been transitioning away from that perception and more toward the path of serious actors/performers. But there are other factors as well.

Given that he has his own material out now, and a license to produce live performances, he may want to save himself for a future concert of his own (we can hope, anyway).

Frankly he doesn't need to do things like that. He's one of the top stars in China right now, and scarcity seems to make him even more anticipated by audiences.

He might not want to deal with the stress and hassle of preparing for and doing a performance like that. There is a LOT that goes into those performances, and a lot of stress and unpredictability. The last time he did Dragon TV there were huge audio issues that almost ruined his performance. He hasn't done NYE since. (Before anyone takes that and runs with it and assumes that's why - we have no proof of that. I'm just saying it's a lot of work and a lot of stress and if you don't need to do it, why bother?)

I suspect that control is a huge factor here. He is in a position now where he can pick and choose situations where he has a lot of choice and power. Why would he go back into unpredictable situations?

He said in an interview a while back that he hasn't been doing variety show appearances because he finds dealing with people's expectations and reactions too stressful. It's possible that applies here as well.

He wants to spend time with his parents, relaxing and watching DD on TV. He rarely gets much time off, and I have no doubt that he wants to make the most of it.

In terms of 'attitude toward the industry', I think both GG and DD have been doing their own thing, focusing on doing the kinds of projects and activities they enjoy rather than chasing after every opportunity. Gone are the days when they'd be packing their calendars full of a wide range of activities of varying value and appeal. Their choices seem far more curated and personal these days. I talked about that a fair bit in the past, including recent posts.

GG debut anniversary

DD debut anniversary

DD Exploring the Unknown

GG and project choices

I believe they're both doing their own thing, taking their own paths, and working toward having greater control over their careers, greater control over their projects, more time for their private lives, etc. and it shows.

I mean, just look at GG's album release and it becomes obvious that we don't need to worry about his career. The man has - on top of all the big projects he's been doing with top directors and top luxury brands - been developing and recording an album of his own, completely on his own time and with his own money and team, without any of it leaking, and with the few melons about it totally not believed by audiences. That's a pretty big flex.

And the album has been a massive, massive success.

So yeah. Don't worry about GG. One thing you can be certain of is that he will always focus on what's best for him and his career, and he's smart and capable and surrounded by experts whose entire job is to support that process.

[caramelcoloredkiss]

hello! i saw ur post and im excited to read ur works so i decided to give u a request! hope u dont mind :3

m!reader who is really slim, not to the point he's unhealthy but just think of him having every girl's dream body, and then there's m!reader's bf who wants to see m!reader under all that baggy clothing but doesn't want to be too pushy so he waits until they finally decide to make love and the moment m!reader's bf sees such a heavenly sight, all he wants to mark him inside out!! kinks r up to u but i do would request creampie :3

First request from our lovely anon! Your wish is my command <3

"𝐻𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓉 ٭"

[OC!Malcom x Sub!Male reader]

"You were always avoiding the topic of sex when it came to your boyfriend, but being so stressed over the course of your semester. You just needed something to relieve stress. Luckily your boyfriend is just so happy to give it to you.

Contains: 18+ , sweet -> smutty, body worship, size difference, creampie, praise, insecure+anxiety filled!reader

Let me know if you have any feed back or criticism! Or just how you feel about this~

───────────────────────────

If there were a man that knew how to make you feel loved, it was your boyfriend.

Malcom was infatuated by your very existance. The way you laughed, spoke, and moved— by God it was like you put a curse on him. The smell of your cologne and shampoo had filled his senses; he had always held you close like it was his last.

You knew his love was bigger than anything else, but it always caught you off guard whenever he said it so casually. How were you able to get your hands in a man that had the biggest heart in the world? You weren't so sure.

"It's so unfair!"

You had felt yourself flinch from the sudden declaration; it was your friend, who had been laying on the carpeted ground of the living room in your apartment. She had began to talk about her exe's while you both worked on a document for your college assignment, honestly if you didn't know any better— she probably only came here to vent about more of her failed relationships.

"You seriously wouldn't believe it! The fucking asshole had the audacity to comment about my sex life! Like— if you want pussy that badly go to a prostitute! Or all the other fucking girls who you keep switching between every week!"

She huffed, pressing her face on the pillow she had taken from the sofa to muffle her uncontrollable yelling. Sofie had always been a bit easily agitated, but today was her last straw apparently.

"Why'd you even date him?"

You asked, pausing your typing on your laptop to lean back on the sofa while she rolled around on the floor, kicking her legs in the air. Your friend let out a sigh and took the pillow off her face, she looked extremely tired, did the situation really bother her that much?

"Look man.. He had good dick! But the asshole had something worth bragging and decided it was his whole personality! He was pretty big too so—"

Too much details!

"Okay stop! I don't wanna hear the details of you sex with him."

You shudder at the very thought of it, this girl was shameless, but she was your bestfriend so you couldn't complain about your choices.

"Whateverrr—"

Sofie sat up from the floor and stood up, heading towards your kitchen— your semi-kitchen anyways. She grabbed the caramel pudding that was stashed underneath, it was still so weird how she could just find the snacks Malcom buys you.

" anyways I probably shouldn't complain to you, not when your boyfriend was sent by God apparently. Seriously! He keeps buying you shit, my boyfriends couldn't even buy me flowers!"

"It's because he's nice to me, besides I buy him just as much the amount as he does for me."

Sofie teasingly rolled her eyes and peeled the packaging seal of the pudding, grabbing a spoon to eat.

"Mhm sure. Oh yeah— he dicked you down yet?"

You coughed out loud, choking in your own saliva; caught off guard by her words. Did this girl just wear no filter whenever you were around? Usually she was more shy with people.

"𝘚𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘦! Why are you so sex craved!?—"

"I am not! I just haven't heard much from you about yours, is he that bad?—"

"—well I wouldn't know! "

You both paused, sitting in silence. You didn't mean to say that—it was true but it didn't have to be said!

Closing your laptop, you put it besides you, theirs no way you could work under these way too personal questions.

"Oh, really? I heard Malcolm was pretty good. Did he not want to? Kinda fucked up if so." Sofie said, scooping a spoonful of pudding in the cup to shove in her mouth. Walking back to you to sit on the couch.

You shook your head, it wasn't like he didn't want to have sex with you. It was the fact that you were too scared to even show your body to him, you were slim, yeah it was almost every girls ideal body type— but you didn't even know if it was 𝘩𝘪𝘴. You were already in disbelief by the fact that he even reciprocated feelings for you, sex was the last thing that came into your mind.

But it didn't mean you could avoid the image of his muscular arms caging you while you layed helpless at his mercy, not mentioning the fact that he constantly walked around shirtless in your apartment— You fought your urges every day at that point.

"Well if not, I say you should, we already finished our exams you might as well get some relaxation in your life before our semester is over— we only have to submit a few of our projects left anyways."

You felt your cheeks burn, it was ridiculous. The thought of finally making love to him made you feel completely weak, you weren't even sure if he wanted to have sex with you.

"—He's probably been waiting for you to give permission or something."

You could only hope she was right.

This is embarrassing.

You layed on your bed for what felt like hours, waiting for him.

"Why is he taking so long? Ugh, I might throw up."

Sitting up, you moved from your bed to open your bed side cabinet— you had bought some lube and condoms from the store just a bit earlier, having to go to the counter to purchase the said items made you want to curl up into a ball, for fucks sakes— of course the cashier wasn't the only one to witness you buy them!

You were an adult, you weren't supposed to be ashamed for buying them, or even about sex in general! But you were a virgin, someone who had stayed far away from any form of sexual intimacy for the sake of your own dignity, and now you were you offer it to 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

"Calm down, [Name]. If he doesn't want to that's fine, you can just cope with it and move on!"

You felt yourself shaking, dammit you felt pathetic. It wasn't your fault your mom wanted to keep you safe! Maybe this was a bad idea, if he didn't say anything then that meant he probably—

You felt a sudden pressure wrap around your waist, the figure burying it's nose at the crook of you neck.

"Hi baby.. I missed you.."

You made a quick reaction and closed your cabinet, praying he hadn't just seen what you prepared.

"M-Malcom! Hi— did your practice go well?"

Turning your body around to look at him, lifting his face off your neck—you gently caressed his face with incredible amounts of affection. While he had determinely locked his arms around your waist, seemingly needy for your touch.

"It was fine.. Took too long, it was a pain in the ass.. "

You nodded, as he leaned his face against your hand. Malcom had always been a bit clingy when he was exhausted— desperate to touch you and to feel his cold hands on your warm skin.

Malcom was beautiful, he had bronze skin that developed from all the times he bathed underneath the sun, and green eyes that just lit up every time he had something say. His hair was flawless, his sister had always taken care of it; dark brown and with a few strands of his hair framing his face— not to mention the mole underneath his lips. [Name] was desperate to see what else is underneath just his beauty, what would he look like when they were indulging in sinful acts, what would he whisper, what would he do.

—You wanted to know...

But, he looked so tired. Probably desperate to just lay in bed and cuddle, we're you really gonna be selfish enough to take that away from him? You didn't want that, so maybe it was alright to wait a bit longer.

"[Name], I heard from Sofie you wanted to talk to me about something.. "

Malcom whispered, pressing his lips against the palm of your hand while he looked down at you with half lidded eyes, not bothering to break eye contact.

Ah, so Sofie had been out to get you.

"Its— not important, you're probably exhausted right? Let's just go to bed—"

As you were about to pull away from his hold, he tightens his arms. Damn his muscular body!

Malcom was determined to get your words out of you, a tired Malcom wasn't easy to deal with.

"You know I don't like you lying to me, spit it out, hm?"

He kept his body firm and pressed you against his chest, he smelt good, he probably showered before coming here.

"I just— it's nothing."

Malcom sighed, giving you one last look of dissatisfaction. He let's go of your hug, which made you whine a bit, his body was warm! Before sitting down at the edge of your bed, pulling you by your arm to fall on his lap. Fuck, this wasn't the best position for someone who had just been craving to get fucked by the man in front of him. Your face was getting warmer and warmer each time he looked at you, this was gonna be hard.

"Please baby? I just wanna know what's botherin' you.. That's all."

He looked a bit sad, wrapping his arms around you waist once more to pull you closer to him, with your legs in between his hips. This man was seriously not helping you.

You let out a sigh, finally giving up on holding your ground. It wasn't like it was that strong anyways.

"I-Its just that, I noticed how we were both a bit stressed out during the semester.. And it made me think, we hadn't really done much to relieve ourselves... So I thought.. Maybe you wanted to.. "

"Make love?"

You blinked, his eyes were soft, but they looked crazed— like he had been waiting so long for this very moment. It honestly made you feel a bit nervous, you weren't prepared for the reaction he would give.

"Ah— yeah, I wanna make love to you, please.. I wanna feel you." You could die from over heating.

But that seemed to be the words he needed to hear, his lips pulling up to a soft smile.

"You could've just said so, I've been wanting for you.."

Before you could respond, he took your lips.

You held onto his bicep to avoid collapsing into his arms, reciprocating the heated kiss. Your abdomen felt like it was burning, just as you were desperately trying to taste every inch of his mouth. His tongue was dominating, sucking onto yours as your salivas was mixed with the messy kiss, occasional gasps and moans leaving your lips.

"Been waiting..so long— fuck."

"ah.. haa..Malcom—"

He pulled away, before returning for another serving, you could feel your head spin a bit. This much more intense your previous make out sessions.

You pull away this time, the string of saliva showing the previous connection of your lips. The illuminating lamp at the top of your cabinet was the only thing that lit up your otherwise pitch dark room. It has how you could see the look of hunger Malcom gave you, he didn't move his face any farther from just an inch, you could feel his hot breath hit your face. He pressed his lips on your right cheek, giving it a wet kiss before lowering his attention to you other half.

"You're so responsive.. [Name], strip for me, yeah? ."

"I-"

You couldn't believe this, when did Malcom become so blunt.

Despite your thoughts, you grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt, it was pretty big compared to you. If anything all of your clothes were to big for you, hiding your body unintentionally. So when you had pulled it off, Malcom stared. He looked so deeply enamored by how your body was made— how well it was made for him.

"You look so beautiful.. Such a pretty body, been hiding their away from for too long haven't you? [Name]."

He connected his lips to your neck, suckling at your skin as he licked and nipped the same spot, stopping and moving to the next. You let out small moans, which made you bite your lip to silence it, but Malcom didn't seem to appreciate it— pulling his lips away from your awfully sensitive skin.

"Don't do that, I wanna hear all you pretty sounds, I want everyone to know how good you feel.. "

You could only reluctantly nod, and let your whined moans strain— your throat from how intensely Malcom was sucking at your skin.

He lowered his attention each time he successful left a mark, using his calloused hands to rub the side of you waist, lowering his hand to squeeze your ass, which made you bite back a squeal.

"You're so cute [Name], wanna see all of you okay?"

You could only nod again, as he gently pulled you shorts down along with you briefs. Showing the obvious erection that had built up throughout the whole thing.

"Such a cute cock.. "

"H-Hey, stop saying embarrassing things.. "

Malcom let out a chuckle, as he kissed your jaw, letting your clothes fall on the floor. He lifts you up and lays your back on the bed as gently as he could, he supports himself on his knees while pulling his shirt off, throwing it carelessly on the floor along with the others.

"You are so fucking beautiful— [Name]"

He leans down to kiss your stomach, going back up to kiss you cheek. Why was he just so loving?

����𝘩 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

"I-I bought lube, it's in the cabinet, s-so it'll be easier to..you know."

Malcom sat back up and reached his hand to slide open the cabinet.

"Came prepared huh, baby. Want we to stretch you out?"

"Y-Yeah.."

Malcom smiles, grabbing the tube of lube and squeezing a generous amount on his hand, spreading it throughout his fingers.

"Gonna slide it in okay?"

"O-okay"

He leans back down to hold you and just as he promised, he slid one of his finger in—fuck his finger was bigger than you thought.

"Hm.. You tried stretch yourself out.."

You nodded, burrying your face in his shoulder while he pumped his finger in and out of your hole.

"M' fingers weren't—ah!— e-enough.."

"You did good, I'll do the rest.."

You gasped and wrapped you hands around his torso, your nails piercing at his back, but he didn't seem to mind, only inserting a second finger in to thrust in your hole. The cold lube and his thick fingers were going to kill you, this was too much of a combination.

Malcom was a lot bigger than you thought, he was practically hiding your body from just how broad his shoulders were, not to mention the tent in his sweatpants weren't going unnoticed by just how— big it was..

"Aah—! f-fuck Mal— why are your fingers so big!?"

You screamed, feeling practically all three of his finger simultaneously out thrusting in and out of your hole. This was unfair, you were going to cum untouched at this point!

"You're just small, baby. S'not my fault you're so reactive.." He grinned, his canines displaying. This bastard!

"You—ahh!— wha—"

He hit your spot, and he didn't stop—curling his fingers to press your prostate, which just made you cry out a moan, your toes curling from the unexpected pleasure. This was too much.

He kept going, pumping his fingers and putting pressure on your prostate.

"M-Mal I'm gonna!—"

You came, squirts of white sticky cum came out the tip of your cock, you were holding on for so long. But Malcom looked satisfied, his smile never faltering as he kissed your tear filled eyes, licking away the salty water.

"You did so well baby, m' gonna fill you up now alright?—you look so pretty while cumming."

He pulled his fingers out of your hole, much to your disappointment. Malcom slid his sweatpants off along with his boxers, pumping his cock a few times before grabbing a pack of condom in your cabinet.

He was big, it was obvious, you knew it was going to be possible— but seeing it is leaving you speeches.

"Like what you see? It's all yours honey."

Malcom tears the condom with his teeth, it was hot. You weren't even going to lie about that, but seeing how he was rolling the condom on his cock made you feel dissapointed— you wanted to feel everything, his cock and his cum. You wanted to know how much he could shove inside you before it was too much.

"Ah... C-Can you not wear the condom?"

He looked back with a bit of confusion.

"Hm? Didn't you but this..?"

"Y-Yeah but, i— I want you to fill me."

Something seemed to have snapped inside of Malcom, he let out a small chuckle and dove back to your lips, giving it a rushed kiss.

"I'll fill you to the brim, don't worry baby.. "

He pulls the condom out his cock, throwing it the the side in favor of lining his leaking tip at your gaping hole. Malcom grabbed your thighs and pushed your knees to your chest, letting your cock lay pathetically on your stomach. You sucked in a deep breath as he slowly pushed his cock in.

You let out a shrilled moan, throwing your head back against the sheets of the bed while Malcom had leaned to connect your lips to his, trying to distract you from the hissing pain that was your asshole.

"Relax baby, it'll be in soon.. "

He kept kissing your lips, as you had wrapped your arms round his shoulders, clawing at his back. You would feel bad if it weren't for the incredible feeling of his cock filling your body, it was big—so big.

After a few minutes, you could Malcom's movements stop.

"It's in— m'gonna move now, alright baby?"

"haa—o-okay.."

Malcom's thrust were slow at first, which made you gasp and moan whenever he penetrated in. After a while his pace began quicker, making his cock go deeper and deeper in you.

"S-Shit, you're tight— fuck, you feel heavenly."

You could only cry out, as his cock moved deeper in, feeling every push that rush all the way to your throat. Both of you sweating, panting, and moaning about how good it felt.

His eyes glued onto yours, never breaking eye contact, his hair sticking slightly to his face as he caged you beneath his arms, this was like a fantasy. His cock was moving in and out as he whispered praises to you.

"You're so beautiful, fuck."

And—

"C-can't believe—shit— you were hiding such a sexy body away from me, hun. Not gonna stop until your filled and full, alright?—"

This bastard, acting like he could just say shit like that without making your heart drum. Malcom had kept thrusting his hips, chasing his climax just as much you craved to be stuffed full of his cum.

After a few more thrusting he came, strings of his thick warm cum filling you— to the point where it leaked out of you. But Malcom kept this thrusting, shoving his cum inside whilst latching his lips into yours.

Along with his cum, you came with him, your cum spraying pathetically on your stomach as it went limp.

And finally— he stops, using his cock to plug his cum inside, preventing it to spill out of you. You were full, the feeling of the warm liquid sitting inside your hole as his cock remained inside, you would die from this if you could.

You were both left panting, trying to catch your breath before he grins back down at you.

"How about another round, baby?"

You sipped the mug of coffee that your boyfriend had left you, even leaving a note as a good morning. He had only left a bit ago but he was planning to stay inside the dorm with you to have a date night. You couldn't wait.

A sudden ringing interrupted your thoughts, you checked to see your phone— it was Sofie.

"I should probably thank her.. "

You answered the call and pressed your phone to your ear.

"Yo, [Name]! Hopefully your fuck session went well, I heard it all the way next door! "

"Sofie I'm going to fucking kill you."

✩꙳I hope you enjoyed that! I had never wrote sex scenes before so I hope I did well~

-> Feel free to request more! Be as detailed as you'd like.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Lucifer: It will be. We have a future together and you don't care about me or Charlie.

Lilith: I do!

Lucifer: Really? This is the first time I've even heard from you in a year.

And Lucifer did check into Ada when they got serious. She didn't have a criminal record, maybe an unpaid parking ticket here and there but who hasn't forgotten about those?

He won't stand for Lilith's mind games.

Lilith: I've been busy.

Lucifer: I'm so sure. If you are quite done, I have to get back to my family.

Lilith: Fine, but I don't want to hear it when you're penniless. All you've got going for you is a sizeable dick and fat bank account.

Lucifer: And you can't have either anymore, good day Lilith.

He went back into the house and locked the door. Fuck she stresses him out.

Later that night in bed, Ada could tell that something was bothering Lucifer.

Ada: Something wrong?

Lucifer took her hands and kissed them: It's just...... Lilith stopped by today. She saw we are engaged and wanted to try and put a wedge between us. But I love you Ada, Lilith...... She probably expected me to never move on and I honestly didn't think I'd find love again until I found you.

Ada smiled: I love you too Luci..... Why didn't you say something earlier?

Lucifer: I wasn't sure how Charlie would react to her being here and the fact that she didn't even want to see her. She just wanted to get in my head, that's how she gets her way. I don't know if you'll ever meet Lilith but don't expect her to be nice.

Ada snorted: Neither will I.

Leathery Love

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 here's part one, hope you enjoy

and @lilacwriter07 enjoy your early Christmas present

Lilith: I'm leaving you Lucifer

After twenty years of marriage never did Lucifer ever imagine those words ever being uttered from the love of his life's lips. Especially not on the day of their wedding anniversary.

Lucifer: What?

Was all he could say to Lilith who looked both tired and disappointed with him as she sat at the table with her arms crossed. They were supposed to be eating a meal together, drinking some wine, then watching a movie. They were at home at Lilith's insistence from a few days ago. She said she wanted to spend the evening with just him. No one else was to see what she wished to do.

He just thought she wanted to try something new. Not break his fucking heart in private so no one can see him cry.

Lilith: I said I'm leaving you Lucifer, I want a divorce.

Lucifer felt his heart start to pace as his breathing slowly turned erratic.

Lucifer: But, but, but I, I don't...why Lily

Lilith bristled at the nickname for a moment before answering.

Lilith: Because I no longer wish to be in a relationship where I fell out of love with you years ago. I swore that when Charlie moved out, I would finally bring myself to get out of a place that has only brought me misery.

With that she stood up and headed upstairs. Lucifer was still reeling when about five minutes later she was coming back down with two bags full of her stuff. Her stuff. Lucifer's eyes widened at the sight of them. It meant,

Lucifer: Lilith please, I beg of you don't go! Please! Lilith

He ran to her when she got to the doors. She stared him down as he stood in front of her exit; however, Lucifer could only stare up with tears starting to stream out onto his pale cheeks.

Lucifer: Lilith...please my darling I'm sorry for whatever I did wrong.

Lucifer then proceeded to do something he'd never thought he'd do in his lifetime due to the man's humungous pride and ego.

Beg

He fell on his knees, clasped his hands together, and begged for her to change her mind. Never did Lucifer ever felt so pathetic in his entire existence. He thought that it would get Lilith to at least think about doing something other than divorce. However, the thirty-eight-year-old singer had already made up her mind a long time ago.

Lilith: I'm sorry Lucifer, but I don't think you were ever meant to be mine.

With that she stepped aside, threw open the doors of their large, grand home and walked out. Never to step inside her former home again. All while Lucifer kneeled on the ground in total despair. It was only when he heard a car engine turning on did, he turn around and saw Lilith pull out of the driveway with her purple convertible and proceed to drive away did he close the door behind him to let out the anguish sob that had built up in his throat.

--

(Two months later)

Lucifer felt like his life was slowly falling apart. Ever since Lilith left, she had been sending him papers and been talking through her lawyer to him. Lilith had been one the most shining aspects of his life. In the entirety of their marriage, he devoted to making her happy. Including to working hard to provide for the both of them. So that way she could work on her music career. He bought her anything she wished for; heck he'd buy her the greatest diamond in all the world to make her happy.

In the end he guessed it just wasn't enough. When she sent him the final paperwork to sign off on their divorce completely shut the once proud, strong man down. Lucifer hadn't been out of the house in weeks and had mostly been taking to moping around the house. Or just laying all day in his bed, not sleeping, just staring up the ceiling, wall, or even occasionally the tv in his room that he put on for white noise. He didn't even go to the office.

Which would have been worse if Lucifer wasn't the boss of his toy company. Even if lately, he's been having his brother/partner Mammon and his assistant Moxxine take care of his work for him. Speaking of family, his brothers, sisters, and even daughter had seen how bad his depression had been and wanted to help him. Especially his daughter Charlie, who went to her Uncle Ozzie and begged for her to find a way to make him feel better. Since him and Ozzie have been the closest out of all seven siblings. Oz had an idea, but he didn't know if it would work

Lucifer: A sex dungeon?!

Lucifer sat across from his brother in his living room while in his robe. Oz noticed he also had deep, dark bags underneath his eyes. His hair looked a bit oily, and he appeared to be growing some hair around his muzzle. However, despite his shaggy appearance his body was rigid, his stark blue eyes wide awake as he took in what his brother just suggested.

Ozzie: Hun, please I know this might seem a lot and too soon after...

Lucifer: I don't care about ugh her. Look Oz even if I wasn't hung up over losing my wife, I don't think it would be right to go to fucking prostitutes!

Ozzie: But that's the thing though I really think these girls or boys can help you, Luci!

Lucifer: How!? How in the hell can they help me!?

Ozzie: By helping you get over Lilith. If you're with one those bad guys down, there soon Lilith will be nothing more than a distant memory. Plus, I distinctly remembering you telling me about this one domniatrix porno you kept watching. You kept telling me how you wish you could be Lilith's naughty boy. Well now you can do that! Just you know not with her.

Lucifer: I told you about that. Since when?

Ozzie: Since that time at that barbeque back in July where you got drunk and confessed to me.

Lucifer must've been hard hammered drunk to have told his brother about that. Since usually Lucifer was extremely private when it came to what happened in his bedroom. The blond man opened his mouth to once again reject his brother's offer but then stopped to think about it. It had been so long since he'd been in the warmth of someone's arms in the bed. Even before Lilith left, she had been distant from him for quite some time.

It actually was the reason for Lucifer looking up on those sites in the first place. He knew no love would be with the person he'd be with; he still wanted to forget about his heartbreak. Even if it was for only one night. Taking a breath, he looked straight at his expecting brother and said,

Lucifer: Alright, I'll go.

[airenyah]

i need to talk about this line here for a second, because it's an attack on me personally. but not the english translation of it, no, it's the og thai line that really gets to me. because he says:

มันโอเค​นะเว้ย ที่จะมีความรักอ่ะ [man - oh-keh - ná wóiie • thêe - jà - mee kwaam rák - àh] it - okay - [particle] • that - will - be in love - [particle]

he specifically uses the term มีความรัก which is more like "to be in love". which means rather than "it's okay to love", this line is more accurately translated as:

It's okay to be in love.

and as someone who really really really struggles with self-acceptance for my own romantic feelings for others, this distinction is really important to me. i can deal with loving others. i love my family. i love my best friend (you really don't go here but hiiii @magsimags i love youuuu 😘 (i know you're rolling your eyes reading this as usual)(i don't care)(i love you)). i love my other close friend. i love my summer camp gang. i love my friend that style reminds me of. i love each and every single one of the friends i've made in this fandom over the past few years (you know who you are 💖). i KNOW it's okay to love. i do it all the time. loudly. as evidenced by the fact that i just HAD to tag my best friend in this post to publically tell her i love her even though she really doesn't care about my thai blorbos, just because i really couldn't NOT tag her to tell her i love her. anyway. i can love. loving is fine.

but to be in love??? that's a whole different story. having (in my case romantic) feelings for someone feels like a heavy burden. it feels humiliating. i hate it. i don't want it. it stresses me out. and the person i have feelings for especially can't ever know about it. see, i will talk about my crushes/romantic feelings, but mostly to family and friends (the better they know the person i have feelings for, the harder it gets for me to admit to it), and even then the word "be in love" won't ever come out of my mouth in my native language. in english it's easier, but in my native language i just can't say it. it feels heavy. it makes me cringe. being in love is horrible.

so when style said "it's okay to be in love" specifically? that was a punch to my gut. because this is a truth i have not yet managed to accept for myself. and if the person i had feelings for specifically told me "it's okay to be in love" so firmly and so earnestly? yeah, i would crumble too

[softmintpurejoy]

I don't know if it's a canon thing or a really popular hc, but Dick not being able to cook is something u will never belive

You can't convince me this boy didn't try to help Alfred in any way possible and wasn't always watching him cook anytime he could

He may not cook a lot, cause it's fucking exhausting no matter how much you like doing it (saying this as a person who can cook, but does it when only in the mood), but he can do it and he isn't falling over his feet he will cook cause it would be the most fulfilling meal in this month (yeah, it's probably a once/twice a month event when he cooks, cause God, this guy does not get enough rest)

Bonus+

People around him may also think he cooks awfully cause they never see him do it, so they just assume he can't, cause why would your ration contain only cereal and fast food if you can cook? (Cause it's exhausting. It does not accure to them)

Also Dick stress cooks after arguments, cause a good knife work is a nice stress relief. He can do this fast cutting thing, when the slices are thin and his fingers aren't cut all over (I need this super power).

Never disturb his cooking, no matter in what mood he started, walk around the kitchen like on egg shells, cause there is a possibility of a knife being thrown at you. Or that you'll have to finish the cooking cause he'd suddenly won't want to cook anymore (I'm projecting)

Bonus++ (birdflash)

Wally learned about the previous paragrath quirks first hand and first he had to catch a knife that was thrown at him (he decided to never ask how dinner with Bruce went ever again, cause he values his life and Dick's mental health) and then had to finish whatever genius of culinary he was doing (he never tells what's that he cooking, but it always turns out good)

Wally does most of the cooking, but he's cooking mostly average, like, edible, pretty tasty, but nowhere Dick's level, neither of them complains, but sometimes Wally would try the dish Dick made the last time he was in the mood for it, and it would obviously be not as good and he'd get kinda upset

[sophsicle]

Okay, I understand hating Snape as an adult. He's a bully. But as a kid? As a teen? The result we see of Snape, him as a shitty adult, is an imperfect victim. Someone who had a bad life, made bad decisions, and was impacted by everything that happened to him. Not everyone can be abused, bullied, grow up in extreme poverty, and then pull through to be amazing people. SOME people can, and that's so amazing, but I don't think it's healthy to look at a child/teen with literally every social determinant of health against them and say 'well, they should've been able to do better'.

Does Snape suck as an adult? Yes. Did he also make decisions which saved Harry's life and allowed them to end the war? Also yes. Does he ultimately sacrifice his life for Harry? Yes. Does young Snape have a lot of potential, especially in spaces such as fanfiction, to explore the effects of one's upbringing and subsequent choices/life path (which you have explored so beautifully, carving out a life for a character in your stories with the very same themes)? Definitely.

I'm not saying he is a perfect person, or even a good guy, but a lot of people can and do relate to him as imperfect victims of bullying and abuse. Sometimes you can't rise above life's circumstances on your own, and you aren't this 'amazing' person. And that's okay. It's okay for victims of things like abuse to struggle, and it's good for people to acknowledge that things like bullying AREN'T okay and have lifelong consequences for their victims. Snape is a good example of what happens to a lot of people who aren't able to 'rise above' the things that happen to them and make mistakes. I think blind hatred for him is a very narrow-minded view, and ignores a lot of his story and nuances.

So two things a) I think perhaps you are missing some of the silly fun spirit I was attempting to infuse into my hatred of snape who is a character not a person

b) listen, I think snape is a super interesting character to play with because he offers a counter point to the marauders especially where issues of class are concerned, even the insults the marauders use against him, about him being "dirty" have clear class connotations and I think that allows you to critique the biases of the "heroes" of the story so to speak and that’s something I really like, so I’m not trying to suggest that he should just be dismissed because I don’t think he should be necessarily

What I am suggesting, is that JKR writes a grown adult teacher who abuses his students consistently and brutally for seven books (students he knows are already traumatized because the group he was a part of tortured or murdered their parents) and at the end of the series we are meant to forgive him because he loved a woman one time kind of maybe I guess

Now, fanfiction can do whatever it wants and make characters whoever it wants

But I have a fundamental problem with the way that snape is used in canon and the way that people accept that narrative

His behaviour as an adult towards the children he is in charge of is gross and unforgivable, but is absolutely forgiven by the narrative of the original text (without, I would argue, any of the nuance you are suggesting)

So I just find it less compelling to use fanfiction to continue to forgive this character

And like maybe if JKR didn’t explicitly write him as someone I was supposed to love I would feel differently, but because she does I don’t

I think you’re giving this character a lot more depth than he has

Which you totally can do with any character you wish, but for me, personally, not universally, cause there is no universal truth about a fictional character who does not exist, he deserves to be hated, in my opinion, again, cannot stress this enough, I’m not saying there is a right way to feel about this character because I don’t think you can say that about characters , but this is my way and I hate him and these are my reasons

Like you can hate characters without being narrow minded

I fear this is a thing you can do

[naturecalls111]

i love your drawings so much<333 your art is so perfect like the anatomy looks so beautiful!!!! how did you learn to draw that anatomically correct? like do you use a lot of references or do you just know how to draw bodies atp? bc im struggling with anatomy lmaoo

Wahhhhh!!! 🥹 Thank you so much!!! I'm holding this praise very close to my heart right now!!!! I've spent a lot of time over the years doing studies and having images of muscle group diagrams open while drawing, so I'm super happy to hear it paid off!

So I don't really use references anymore when I start drawing and composing the pose, but I absolutely still reference diagrams of muscle groups when I find myself hesitating with the way certain parts of the body may appear. Something like this, for example:

Something that gives me an exaggerated idea of what that part of the body looks like so I can soften it to my liking. My main goal when using reference isn't to do a 1:1 replica, but rather understand What I'm Drawing while I'm drawing it. At this point of my art journey, I'd prefer having more practise in manipulating these muscles than just practising drawing what I can see.

(Worth mentioning I absolutely still practise observational drawing, and it undoubtedly aids this aspect of my drawing, too. I used to use fanart specifically to practise it, but this year I've taken to separating my fanart from my study art because I find that it allows me to be less miserable when it doesn't come out good LOL now I just do oil painting which helps me focus more on general shapes and values)

Using these types of categorised diagrams has also helped me simplify that initial structure of the body when I'm sketching. Having general markers of what muscle goes where definitely helps me set the position of the body in the long run.

I very, very highly encourage the use of references always, but especially when still learning to get more confident with anatomy!!!! Me not using references for poses is very much at the cost of having anatomy that could be even More accurate LOL I merely know where to place the lines to make things look Passably believable. Buuuttt that's also just the process of improving. Imagination is a muscle that has to be trained too. What's been helping me find a happy middle nowadays is drawing with references that cover small parts instead of using the reference for the whole illustration. FOR EXAMPLE!!!

I had drawn this much of the catlaila I recently posted without a reference before I was like.. Huh. I can't really figure out what I want to with the arms, but I also don't know what is Physically Possible to do with the arms here, so I'll experiment with my 3D poser (WHICH BTW I LOVE AND USED TO USE RELIGIOUSLY FOR EVEEERYTHING SO!! GO DOWNLOAD LOL it's called MagicPoser) and I had adjusted the models up to this point before being like, ok yeah this is enough for me to go off of as something that is physically feasible. So the posing of the rest of the models is whatever because I just needed to know what Laila's arms would look like. This was the final linework:

Like, it's still not a 1:1 with the reference, but it's just enough that it seems feasible !! My personal opinion is that sometimes reference doesn't capture the Shapes that I want it to, even if it's more realistic, so it's ok to break rules and just go with your flow lol... It's shocking how many times I've thought references of real human bodies look unrealistic and ridiculous HAHA Hence focusing more on learning the muscle groups/shapes so that I can adjust to my liking without sacrificing the integrity of the anatomy...

Also, not necessarily on anatomy, but I use plenty of references when I need to see things like how tight shirts stretch over breasts, or how cloth sits at a certain angle, or, honestly, hands. I almost always draw hands by looking at my own. I cannot stress enough: I use plenty of references. I am not a magician and I don't have perfect memory, even after four/five years of studied drawing x)))

Anyway. I've yapped so much. I try to be detailed in my explanation of anatomy because god knows how much I struggled with it!!! I STILL do. If you ever catch the link to it, I often stream these drawings and you'll see how many times I duplicate these layers so I can erase whole sections and try again, or how often I'll attempt the position of a leg over and over before I feel its right. The final product is so quick to digest but the process is frustratingly finicky, I promise, LMAO.

I hope this wasn't too convoluted and long, and I wish you the super best on your anatomy journey! If you ever need help and catch me at the right time, I'm totally open to giving any work a second opinion ! :3c

[419jhat]

Getting Old With You

🎄 Steddie Christmas 🎄

Steve deals with getting older by realizing he wants to be a Santa and Eddie is just along for the ride

It starts when Steve blows out his back with a sneeze.

“Babe, you're fine. This is life, we get older and we stop working like we used to,” Eddie says.

“I’m dying,” Steve says dramatically. Eddie rolls his eyes as he rubs his back. “I'm one step closer to death. Buy me a coffin, I'm basically useless.”

“You're thirty-three,” Eddie deadpans.

Steve spends the rest of his week having a mid-midlife crisis, calling Robin for support because nobody else seems to understand. Well, Robin doesn't either but she makes him feel a little better about it.

“Why don't you start working out again? You used to be really fit in high school,” she suggests.

Steve looks down at himself, wondering when he let himself get so out of shape.

“Oh God,” Robin says, “I can hear you thinking. This is going to become a thing. Just forget what I said, you look fine-”

Steve gets a gym membership.

First, he runs. Then, he makes some friends and starts lifting. Next thing he knew, he was in a Pilates class working on his flexibility, which Eddie appreciates very much.

He feels pretty great about himself and attributes his aches and pains to the price of sticking to the gym. Max makes fun of him when she catches him flexing but he doesn't even care, because he's a little proud of his progress. Eddie thinks it's stupid when he starts tracking his food, but comes up with wacky recipes to get in that extra protein.

Then, on one horrible day, Dustin walks downstairs and says, “is that a gray hair?”

The room goes silent. Robin sends him a dirty look.

“No fucking way, Henderson. It's got to be a trick of the light,” he says, as he rushes to the bathroom. He makes Eddie angle a hand mirror into the wall mirror so he can see the back of his own head and gasps with horror when he sees that not only is Dustin correct, but his hair is also thinning.

The horror.

Dustin tries to backpedal, but it's too late. Pandora's Box has been opened. Steve has begun to lose his personal war against aging.

“Oh my god. Oh my fucking God, Ed, is that a bald spot!?”

Eddie looks closely, and says carefully, “I think it's always looked like that.”

“WHAT!?”

“I mean, no! I think. I don't know!”

“You look at me every day and you don't know if I'm balding!?”

“You look as hot as ever!” Eddie says.

HairGate leads to all sorts of products piling up on the bathroom counter. Steve stops wearing hats, because he's heard that they can mess with your hairline. Eddie puts his foot down when he wants those prenatal vitamins that are supposed to help promote hair growth because, “Steve, you're not pregnant.”

This is a dumb reason in Steve's eyes but he agrees because he doesn't want Robin to find them and tease him about it. He keeps working out, adding to his routine. Lathers himself in lotion and sunscreen, because he thinks the crows feet in the corners of his eyes are a little too prominent.

When he's forty-five, his parents die. He gets the call about his dad on an already shitty weekend and the next about his mother three months later. Their funeral is difficult. Eddie holds his hand the whole way through, and Steve takes in his husband's gray hairs and how they won't be able to stick together forever, like they'd promised. The stress of it all makes him drop the gym. He tries to start up again but it's shockingly difficult after such a short break that he leaves, embarrassed with an ache in his left knee. Robin stays with them for a bit, and he wonders what he would do without her. How the pain of losing either of them would probably take him like it took his mother.

He decides to grow out his beard. Maybe change can be good.

On his fiftieth birthday, the party walks around him on eggshells, like he's about to lose it. Logically, he knows he's being ridiculous. He can't *not* age. He has to deal with his own sense of mortality eventually. But he just doesn't want to. He, maybe ridiculously, finds it unfair that he's stuck in a body that doesn't work like it used to. That he looks in the mirror and feels like time flew by without a warning. That the fragility of life feels more prominent than ever.

He's cutting the cake when Lucas and Max’s youngest, a baby with lovely dark curls, points at Steve and says, “Santa?”

The room goes quiet.

“Laura, that's Uncle Steve!” Lucas says with the kind of embarrassed laugh a parent gives when their kid does something stupid. Steve looks down at himself. He's wearing a red sweater. His stomach is a little pudgy since giving up the gym. He knows his hair has turned into whatever the equivalent of salt and pepper is for brunettes, but his beard was always prone to more grays than the rest of him. He looks at little Laura’s smile, and how excited she seems.

“Isn't that her first word?” he asks.

“Uh,” Lucas says.

“Oh my God, Laura! Your first word! Santa Steve!” Max cackles.

Steve reaches his arms out to hold Laura and smiles wickedly, a tinge of pride in his chest when she giggles and grabs at his face.

“HA!” he says, “she likes me more!”

“Of course she does, you're the guy who lets her do whatever she wants,” Lucas grumbles. But he's smiling and so is everyone else.

The idea sticks in Steve's head. He and Eddie go to the mall that Christmas to browse presents and they always do, and Steve watches the Mall Santa for a moment longer than necessary. Eddie ducks into a store and he's walking over to the guy dressed as an elf before he can even think about it.

“Uh, you have to wait in line,” the guy says.

“Oh, no. I just wanted to ask, how much does being a Santa pay?”

The guy looks a little surprised.

“I'm not sure, but it's definitely above minimum wage. It's a seasonal thing and kind of hard to do, so they definitely get paid more than the elves,” he said with a little laugh.

“Really? It's hard? Don't you just have to talk to kids all day?”

Steve's a teacher and he volunteers at the community center. He's very accustomed to talking to children. Kind of an expert in it, really.

“Oh, no way dude. Chris speaks three languages and knows sign language,” he says, gesturing to the Santa with a thumb, “you have to have the laugh, the beard, and you have to go to Santa school-”

“Santa school?” Steve interrupts.

“Yeah, it's actually pretty competitive.”

Steve wonders for a moment if he's being pranked. Then, he spots Eddie waiting for him behind the massive line of children, looking confused.

“Isn't that cool?” Steve asks, a little excited.

“Standing in line to take pictures?” Eddie asks.

“No, babe, look how happy the kids are. It's so sweet! And the guy who plays Santa is super qualified. I had no idea that they had to go to school for it. Did you know that?”

“Wow, that's pretty intense,” Eddie says.

Steve watches Chris the Santa bring a smile to the face of everyone he looks at, and wonders.

“Steve? Are you ok?” Eddie asks.

“I want to do that,” Steve says. “I want to be that.”

“Wait, what?”

Eddie looks completely bewildered. But Steve feels like he’s had an epiphany.

“I want to be a Santa when I get old! I could be the kind of Santa that visits kids in the hospital or the kids at the community center, since they don't get to go to the mall that much. I could be the kind of Santa that makes people happy anywhere!”

“Wait so let me get this straight. You want to have white hair and stuff?” Eddie asks.

“I mean, it is inevitable,” Steve says with a shrug, like he hasn't been fighting exactly that for the last two decades.

“That's great! I love it! I could get out my old drag stuff and be your Ms. Clause,” Eddie says, but he looks like he's hesitating over something. After a moment, he turns back to the store he'd just been at.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks.

“Returning your Christmas present, since you've completely flipped your priorities about ageing,” Eddie says. Steve grabs his hand and pulls him to stop.

“Listen, I said it was inevitable. Not that it had to happen right away,” Steve mutters, and Eddie laughs. Maybe there's something to look forward to when he gets old after all.

[cloversnstrawberries]

For your christmas catalouge, the nightmare one with age range 3-5 years for alastors kid? If kidnapping is the plot maybe the child could cry for their papa Alastor and his Shadow to save them?

"dream / nightmare" plantonic!father!yandere!alastor & young child!gn!reader ! !

[2024 christmas/holiday event, entry 1]

event post ! | event masterlist !

description; You don't remember a lot about you and your papa's life before this, before you were confined to a mansion that looked like something right out of a fairytale. Not while you're awake, at least. And when you're asleep, what memories do surface, you think are so twisted and disfigured that they're hardly memories at all-- just nightmares, nightmares that your papa is more than happy to comfort you about, even when they become more and more frequent.

additional notes; helloo!!! i don't have much to say on this one, but i really like how it came out, and thank you so much for participating in my event!! :D

warnings; possessiveness, overprotectiveness, nightmares/night terrors, extreme fear and distress, manipulation, gaslighting, induced amnesia, Reader is very unaware of what's happening to them, kidnapping, very brief mentions/implied child death (of reader), mentions/descriptions of serial killings, murder, violence, dead bodies, and if i missed anything, please let me know !! i hope you enjoy :]]

w/c; 3.9k

You don't remember having these many nightmares before. Sometimes, you would have nightmares, but they were barely anything in comparison to what you experienced now.

Maybe it had something to do with you turning into a fairytale creature-- something you used to dream about so much as you read your storybooks. You were a little deer, a fawn, papa says it's called. With white spots covering your shoulders, back, and face like little freckles-- and big, fluffy ears with a big, fluffy deer tail to match.

Papa says you're a faun-- with a U, not a W. It's like a satyr, something you read about in a few storybooks before-- but with a deer instead of a goat. It was confusing, you don't know why the words had to be so similar. It made it confusing to learn the difference.

It's not... you don't hate being a faun, but you miss what you had to leave behind when you became this fairytale creature. You miss going to school, and your friends, and walking around the French Quarter with your papa holding your hand.

You can't go outside at all anymore, no matter how much you beg, no matter how many times you cry and whine and scream that you just want outside for a minute! That's all you need! You just want to feel the sun again, or see the moon, or-- or feel the wind against your hair,

There were no windows. You'd explored as much as you could of the mansion-- you have no way to tell if you've explored every possible nook and cranny, but you're pretty sure you got most of it explored.

It was pretty-- like something out of a dream, your room was so big and had a loft and stars hanging above you; they twinkled like they were real. You had all the toys you could ask for, and could do whatever you liked-- no longer needing to go to school.

But... every single hallway, every room (that wasn't locked, which got further and fewer between as you got to higher and higher floors. The mansion seemed to go on forever...), and any possible place you'd assume there to be a window,

There just... never was. It felt wrong. It made you stressed and anxious. Papa says it was to protect you from 'prying eyes', mean people that would steal you away from him because you're just that special.

"Papa, can I ask you something?" You said, tugging on his sleeve as he read a big fancy book without a pretty picture on the front, resting on a big fancy armchair in the... uhm, parlor room, you think he said it was. It was just a big, fancy living room is how he explained it. You never understood why you two's new house had different types of living rooms. It felt like a waste.

Papa looked away from his book and down at you, one of his own big, fluffy deer ears went down, and he tilted his head. You would've giggled at it-- usually you did, but you had much more important things to focus on. You think papa noticed it, that you didn't giggle when he tilted his head. He looked a little worried, but still tried his best to smile as he responded, "I don't know, dearest. Can you?"

You huffed, cheeks puffing out as you crossed your arms across your chest. You gave your best effort at glaring at papa, trying to make him realize that you were being serious. That you weren't in the mood for joking right now.

He waited for a few seconds, before his big grin-- with big, sharp teeth that he said he had so he could protect you-- dropped to a small little smile. You don't think he looked very happy, but he kept smiling anyways. He straightened his neck and pulled his ears back to their usual position. "Alright, alright. What is it that has you so cross, my dear?"

"Why aren't there any windows?" and papa's eyes went wide, but he tried to laugh it off. He plucked his bookmark from the side table right next to him, placing it in his book before shutting it and placing it on the side table. He leaned over, arms outstretched. He would do this, when he had to have hard talks with you, he'd pull you up into his lap and cradle you. Softly tell you, in the gentlest terms possible, why things are the way they are.

You weren't having it that time around, taking a stop back and holding your arms tighter over your chest. Your cheeks puffed out more-- you're sure you looked like a chipmunk by that point, and it must've looked really funny, but papa didn't seem to notice it.

He looked hurt when you backed away from him, and you instantly felt bad. You wanted to quickly apologize and jump up onto his lap, let him hold you and comfort you as he told you the cruel truth.

Papa sighed, then leaned back in his chair. He looked tense, his shoulders held straight, his hands resting in his lap-- grabbing each other rather hard, enough to where his fingers were pressing indents into the skin of his other hand.

"Well," Papa started off with, and you knew he was trying to stall. Trying to make you change your mind-- either on the question you'd asked, or whether or not you wanted to stay standing.

You didn't give in, willing all possibly stubborness to rise to the surface. It was so hard, looking up at Papa when he looked so sad-- and because of you,

But you needed answers, and the best way to get the most out of him was to make sure you knew you were really, really serious on this.

You can draw him a picture later, as an apology. He always loves when you make him art, anything-- even if it's just a random house you'd never seen before, or a little cat you wish you had named Lola.

"I told you it's dangerous outside, didn't I?" And you nodded slowly, trying to figure out what he meant "I'm not going to run out of the windows! I'm not that dumb!", and papa laughed a little. He shook his head, before focusing his entire attention onto you again, softly saying "No, no, I know you won't. I never said that was the problem."

You tilted your head this time, little ears flopping along with the movement of it. There was no need to ask another question, because papa quickly continued-- he leaned forward a little, but didn't make a grab for you.

"Windows aren't one sided, my dear. That means people can look inside, just like you can look outside. You might not even know they are, and that's when they'll strike."

You swallowed the lump in your throat... you didn't like this tone, you didn't like how papa's smile was growing to a grin again-- but it was wrong, really, really wrong. For the first time, you felt on edge around your papa. "...Who will? Who will strike?" You squeaked out, and papa leaned closer-- he looked so mean, with that big, scary smile of his.

At that moment, for just a split second, the man before you didn't seem like your papa. You'd grown used to his new ears, and his sharp teeth and bright red hair-- but something was really off, but it wasn't obvious enough for you to be able to point it out for sure.

"The hunters, with their big, scary guns. Or trappers, with their constricting nets-- they'll creak open the window, or break the glass-- and then," Papa shot his hands forward, closed fists opening in a sudden movement that made you stumble back, and fall on your butt.

"Bam! you're trapped in a snare, or a bullet lodged into your arm." You started shaking. Papa... you'd never seen him act like this before-- but as soon as it came, this new, scary papa left and the papa you knew and loved was back.

His eyes soft as he looked down at you, and gingerly extended his arms again, beckoning you forward and into his embrace. You were in no position to deny it, quickly scrambling up from where you'd fallen on the floor, and all but jumping onto his lap.

He wrapped his arms around you, large and warm and comforting-- and held you close to his chest as the waterworks began, tears just falling and falling and falling from you eyes as your sniffled and hiccupped, finally able to get out a little "Pl-please d-don-n't do that ag-g-ain... It scar-red me," before devolving back into shapeless sobs, tremors wracking your tiny frame.

Then, a soft, gentle hand brushed the hair from your eyes, and settled under your chin; tilting your head up, making you look papa in the eye. He was back to normal, no trace of that scary man who'd replaced him for a little bit. "I know, my dear. I'm sorry for scaring you, but I need you to understand that, no matter how extreme it may seem, everything is to protect you." He gently tapped your cheek three times, signaling you to pay closer to attention to his words "You understand that, don't you? That all I want to do is protect you?"

Without any other possible reason to why he does what he does, you nodded, and he tucked your head back against his chest-- hand now smoothing through your hair, calmingly. "There we go. What I do may seem silly and useless to you, but trust me, I have my reasons... I just don't want you hurt, little fawn."

You weren't sure if you were supposed to respond to that, but you did anyway-- a timid, small little nod against his chest, that he acknowledged with a soft little chuckle. You two stayed liked that until you fell asleep, cradled against his chest.

After that, you tried you best not to ask any questions about why most of the rooms upstairs were locked, or why you never say anyone else but you two-- things you'd thought over a lot, and always came up empty-handed. But never dared to ask papa, not after that time you asked about the windows.

Sometimes, when you have nightmares, you're back to how you were when you lived in New Orleans. You're not a fawn-- or a faun, anymore. You're just regular, plain old you,

And sometimes, you're how you are now. A mythical creature that hunters and circus ringleaders and scientists all want to capture for their own bad purposes. Nightmares where you're a mythical creature aren't as prevalent at the ones where you're back in New Orleans,

The New Orleans were always so much scarier, because they always felt so much more real. Like they could've actually happened-- you feel the hands around your throat, hear the woman screaming at you that her baby was dead-- that her son was gone, and if she couldn't have him, then the one who took him couldn't have you.

It felt more like a memory, more than the ones where you were a little fawn with pretty, shimmering white angel wings-- and a glowing halo. You had won. You were always called a winner, but you don't really know what you had won,

Those nightmares always ended with one of two things-- black, inky tendrils sprouting from the cloud-like ground below you, and wrapping around your torso; grabbing you, pulling you down. You screamed, but no one around knew what to do, and then-- right before your head was pulled below the cloud-like ground, and someone was reaching for your outstretched arms, you'd wake up.

You never knew the ending of that dream, if you were pulled down or helped up. You don't know if it matters much either way.

The second one, you couldn't remember very well. You never did, all you knew is that it was different. That a big, big monster with scary eyes and long, razor-thin limbs was hunched over you. Black drool dripping onto you as you tried to melt into the clouds below you. Its voice was distorted, and you never remembered exactly what it said.

It sounded relieved, you think. Saying something about... about how he'd never lose you again, how you were his precious little child, and how you would never go a day without... without whatever it was, again. It hurt to try and think about what exactly it called itself. You think it started with a "P", but you were never sure.

But this night, you had a new dream. And this dreams was so bad. It was so awful-- you weren't really... apart of the dream. You were like a ghost, but you couldn't fly. You didn't look like a ghost-- didn't feel like one, but nobody seemed to notice you.

Voices whispered into your ear, begging you to run, to leave-- you couldn't turn your head to look at them, maybe frozen in fear; you'd catch glimpses of what you think the whispers belonged to. Long, stretched out faces stuck in a forever scream. Some of them looked like animals, or toys, or something like that-- and some looked entirely human.

They whisper that they will try as best they can to help you, that you were just a little baby. You didn't deserve this, you deserved to be back in heaven-- with your wings fluttering on your back and your halo hung above your head. Urging you to run, to escape the Radio Demon;

There's a demon after me? you tried to say, but you found you couldn't speak. Couldn't move your mouth, couldn't vocalize anything-- couldn't so much as twitch a finger.

You'd never had a nightmare like this before.

You hope you'd never have it again.

"No, but he's with you." The voices whispered, as if they heard what you had to say-- but you hadn't spoken. Can you read my mind? You asked, but they don't reply to it.

"Look, look over there." A voice calls, and it sounds... familiar. It sounds like one of your friends older brothers, the one that'd tease and terrorize you when you came over-- he'd even cut your hair once.

He was 13 when he left. You didn't think people could move away without their family when they were that young, but no one ever explained more. They just said he wasn't with them anymore.

They held a party, where everyone dressed in black and brought flowers to a special place-- like a park, your friends mom had explained to you. She looked like she was about to cry.

You weren't invited to the party, and neither was your friend. She stayed at your house that night, and neither of you really knew what'd happened.

Without any input of your own, your head turned to the side-- someone was walking down the street, a woman with clicky heels and the really fancy see-through tights that Papa said you could wear when you got older. She had a mink on, you never liked when people wore them. But it must've meant she had a lot of money...

She was walking quickly, glancing behind her a lot. You don't know why, not until someone else came into view-- a man, a man with a big overcoat and very quiet steps,

A woman's voice called next, saying "Look closely. Look very closely at the man." She sounded a little... snobbish, you think Papa called it. It's when someone thinks they're better than you for no real reason, and they usually aren't.

It was really dark, the woman started walking faster, she kept looking back-- she couldn't run very well in those heels. She tripped over a crack in the road. You remember that crack very well, having tripped over it yourself a couple times-- but papa was always there to catch you before you fell onto the pavement.

The man didn't speed up-- he walked really fast anyways, he had really, really long legs; you still couldn't see his face, but you saw, as he got closer, he pulled a knife from his pocket--

"Oh, come now Marjorie, don't be like that! Didn't you want a walk through the bayou? So we could bond?"

It was your papa. His face came into the light as he held the knife to the woman's throat and grabbed her by the hair-- it looked like it hurt a lot. He pulled her up by it, and kept the knife at her throat. "No--!" She cried out, sounding like the snobby voice that told you to look very closely-- but the man-- papa, held the blade closer to her throat. You saw red beading up around where the knife touched her neck.

"As I recall, you said you wanted to get to know me, yes? So you could mother my child-- because, obviously, I'm not doing well enough on my own?" He sounded so mean. It didn't sound like your papa. It sounded like whatever had replaced him that time you asked about the windows in your new home.

His hand curled tighter around her hair, and she started to cry, as the fake-papa leaned closer, and he looked like he was about to kiss her-- but he stopped right before doing it. "What was it you said, thinking you'd make it into my good graces? That every child needs a mother? Hm?"

The lady, Marjorie, shook her head. Maybe she was refusing to answer, or denying she ever said that. Fake-papa's eyes got crueler, and he started dragging her away. "Oh, it's too late for that. You can't just shake your head and think you'll get out of this! How childish."

You wanted to cry, but not a single muscle in your face would-- could move. The voices cried out "Follow, you have to follow--" and your feet began moving on your own, but finally-- you could move a little. Clamp your eyes shut and scream in your head, yell No! No, this isn't real! I wanna wake up! I want my papa!

The things around you began to panic, and when you opened your eyes-- you finally saw them in full.

You never want to remember them. How they looked, how their bodies were contorted and all wrong, how wisps of shadows flew off of them; like the little helpers papa uses sometimes.

"I want my dad! I don't want to be here anymore!" You yelled-- finally able to speak, and the world around you seemed to crumble in on itself. The things shrieked, afraid-- screaming at one enough, all scrambling up into the sky,

Or where the sky would've been, had been a few moments before.

"We're gonna be in so much trouble..." One of the younger sounding voices wailed, and another screamed at them, saying "Shut your trap and get up! We have to be out before he comes and--"

You woke up, already crying-- papa was shaking you awake, he looked so scared. That made it even worse-- his eyes so wide, wider than you'd ever seen before. He looked... he looked angry, but not at you-- he looked like he was worried for you, but under that, was the anger.

You were smart enough to realize the anger wasn't at you.

He was calling your name, and as one big, shuddering sob fell out, you jumped at him-- wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face to his chest. Terrified.

"I-I had, It--" You could barely think, barely put together your thoughts on what nightmare you just had-- much less talk about it. Papa shushed you, and pulled you close. "It's okay, you're alright. Nothing will hurt you, not while I'm here."

Usually, that helped a lot. But you cried even harder-- your tiny hands fisting his silk sleepshirt as you wept against it. Silk was so delicate-- you were definitely staining it with your tears and snot, but papa didn't seem to care.

He picked you up, then got up on your bed, resting his back against the headboard, he laid you on top of himself, your head resting atop his chest. One hand absent-mindingly played with you hair, smoothing it, fixing it, whatever was his fancy in that moment-- and the other was resting on your back, and he pat your back every so often to bring you back to the now-- to the fact you weren't in that nightmare anymore, that he was with you.

You were safe.

Half of you didn't feel like you were, the half that believed the nightmare to be true-- but your more logical side won out. Papa wouldn't do that. It was just... just your brain messing with you. It's worrying for you, that you dreamt of such violence.

It made you feel guilty, like your own mind had turned against the man who single-handingly raised you, with such loving, despite having such a busy life; he always made room for you.

Once you'd calmed down enough, you tried to speak again. Usually, especially with dreams this bad (though, this is a new record-- but there'd been very bad ones before), he'd ask or encourage you to tell him about it, even if it was vague.

This time, when you tried to do it out of your own choice, he hushed you. He'd never done that before-- but all he said was "You don't need to tell me, it's alright. If you still want to, you can tell me in the morning. Just relax for now, I'm here. You're safe." His hand stopped so much playing with your hair as it was pushing your face to his chest, and you got the point.

You didn't know why he'd really done thought-- other than for comfort, your darling, innocent little mind couldn't even conceptualize the very idea of your father having any ulterior motive,

that he would've hide your face in his chest, so you wouldn't happen to look up and catch the way his grin stretched inhumanely-- how his pupils were shifting between dials and not, before he finally gave in and just let them stay as dials. You could see the slight green glow out of the very corner of your eye, but you didn't question it. Didn't even notice the heavy, menacing sounding static--

You were just about to fall asleep by that point, and when you did, Alastor continued to hold you. As he held you, he thought of ways to punish those fools for what they'd tried to pull, scaring you so badly. Acting like they were trying to help you.

You didn't need help, especially not from them. You had him, after all-- and he'd protect you, forever and always. There was never a moment where he wouldn't do so, wouldn't drop everything to come rescue you-- or comfort you in a time of need.

In part, he supposes it's his fault for giving the Shadows such lax restraints... little more than his words and threats holding them from interacting with you on a deeper level than he explicitly allowed;

He'd be sure to fix that, but after you wake up. And after he's made you breakfast, your favorite-- he believes this situation drastically calls for it.

[doja365]

[Unwanted Ransom (Chapter 7)]

Fake Masterlist TW- toxic friends(except Katherine)

Street lights.

Those were the only things you can truly remember of Gotham. You've known the streets lights of Gotham more than you can remember your 'family'. The memory of those street lights were longer than your memory with Alfred.

You remember when you would sneak out of the house and read under the streetlight. When you can't find your way home from school you look at the street lights.

Mother used to say, "Street lights are fairies that light up the darkness when you're alone."

What a piece of bullshit.

I was dwelling in the darkness longer than one could imagine. I mean, I had 'friends' who I could rely on until I realised they wanted to be considered as a friend of a Wayne. It's always pride that got people close to me, and when I don't appeal to them, they decide to leave me.

Katherine, on the other hand, she never even knew I was a Wayne, she'd always assume I'm an Amala, in fact I was. But I never truly relied on her. No matter how many birthdays we celebrate together, how many gifts we exchange on Christmas, I could never truly be open with her.

She never knew that I almost went to an asylum because of my attitude, she never knew about the negligence of the batshits, and she never knew how many people I've killed for money. That job was the only reason I was able to get an apartment.

Regardless, she stuck with me all through out. She stopped me when I was taking drugs, helped me when I had to study, and she sometimes pay for my lunches when I was too engrossed in my studies.

I'm not saying I killed people when I was 12. No, I'm saying that I killed people when I was 15.

Oh wait I'm sorry, did you really think those prize money from competitions helped me?

You got it wrong. It helped Xerxes, I'm Jennifer, and I'm your friendly neighbourhood killer. I am Anton Chigurh, but in a more sane, and emotional way. I relate more to serial killers, than I do with Wayne. I guess you get the point.

Now lets state the pros and cons of my life now...

I get up from bed, thank God it's Saturday huh.

Well no. The first thing I see in the morning is a bunch of fucking notifications dated at Saturday 12:01 am. WHO THE FUCK TEXTS AT THAT TIME!!!! (No offense tho.)

The messages come from no one else but demon spawn. This fucker.

Damian- Hey sis, it's me Damian.

Jen- what the fuck u want?

Damian- We miss you, come back home

Jen- listen cutthroat bitch, I'd rather have syphilis than go to that shithole

Damian- Oh come on sis.

*blocked*

Con- I now have to deal with the Addams family

*ding!*

I open it and shows V on the notification.

Pro- I get to befriend a hot guy. But I'd never admit it out loud, I just wish he would ask me out.

V- Jen, you there?

J- Yeh, I just woke up, why?

V- Wanna go out for some coffee?

J- can't I have plans with Pete and DP.

V- It's fine, by the way who are they? Like your brothers or somethin'?

J- Yeh brother figure kinda shit, sorry.

Alright, just because he asked me out for the first time in our 5 year long friendship, does not mean he likes me. I mean come on I know I'm hot but, I'm not his type, whatever his type is.

I need to get a life for once. Ughhh, I just need to shower first, I smell like a rat that just took a shit on an older rat. Why am I like this?

40 mins later...

I'm going outside in my favorite black suit. I have to accompany Morgan into this birthday party she's attending. Cause dad's gonna be busy and I don't wanna disturb him, plus mom's already having enough stress as it is.

I'll be bringing her in my Rolls Royce, cus' apparently I'm not allowed to use my Maserati, not PG rated apparently.

"YO, M don't forget your gift for Susy."

"I won't sis!"

She came down in an adorable pink jumper paired with a cute plaid jacket. She held her gift, which by the way was a Barbie Holiday Doll. I had to spend $99 dollars on a doll, which I doubt her friend will even use. I had a thing with army men when I was her age.

"You look adorable sweet heart, now let's go." I picked her up and carried her into the car. When we reached the car, I had to get my gift for Katherine because Susy and Katherine are 10 years and a week apart from each other.

Before I was about to drive I heard Morgan saying something.

"Can I use your phone to play Dress to Impress?" (I can't think of any other fashion games because I always played war games)

"Ok, fine." I reluctantly gave her my iPhone 15, I took very good care of it because the first phone that I got in Gotham, was a fucking Nokia. That thing could be used as a Horcrux in Harry Potter.

"Who's V?"

Oh fuck.

"He is a friend of mine darling."

"You have a boyfriend?"

I was suppose teach her about this when she is 10

"I have a friend who is a guy. Now, shouldn't you play your game?"

"Okie!"

OH thank God! I wish that I didn't have the talk with her...

At the party...

"Cool car." Some random child said.

"You should see my other one."

With that I walked to Katherine and Susy, hanging near the fire-place.

"Hey Ri!" That's my nickname for her, Kate is pretty conventional.

"Hey Jen!"

"Here's a little something for you, I know it's a week apart from Susy but I got excited."

When she opened it, it was the Chanel perfume she's been eying on. I know it's more expensive than the doll, but still.

"Oh MY GOD JEN!!"

The woman lunged on me, that I actually fell on the ground hugging her.

"You could've just shook my hand. Everyone would think we are lesbians."

"Is that why your hand is near my crotch."

"That's exactly why."

We then both got up and did our signature handshake. (I have no references so come up with something)

We spent half of the day looking over our sisters and playing dolls with them. And the cake was delicious, I ate like 3 slices already.

At home...

After a long time, we sadly had to go home. And I immediately put on my sweats and turned on my tv. I watched Hot Ones, all night until I finally started to lose energy. And with that I fell asleep.

Con- I can feel someone watching me...

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A/N- TY 4 all the support in this fic <33

Taglist-

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e