#but they do have ceilings built on top of them

[feralrabidcrow]

I remade the silly TF2 base that lives inside my head in The Sims 4 for the 3rd time

And this time I'm actually happy with it!

Behold, the base that I use for a reference for when I write fanfiction! Photo spam incoming under the cut as well as me yapping.......

Some basic exterior shots, in short this is the main home base that the mercenaries all live in when they aren't currently deployed at a battlefield, ex. 2Fort or Badwater. Those battlefields all have much smaller bases attached or nearby for the mercenaries to temporarily reside in while they're in between trying to kill BLU.

This is the floorplan of the basement, with its primary features being the medbay, the workshop, the laundry room, and two sleeping quarters, which belong to Medic and Heavy.

The hallway outside of the medbay has a waiting area set up. There is an elevator that travels between the medbay and the garage for convenience.

It's worth noting that I am working here within the confines of The Sims 4, and can only do so much to achieve my actual visions of this base. Where the skeleton is, would be a scale of the type you would usually see in a doctor's office (Medic prefers to keep his skeletons in the closet, you see.) And the weird set-up of counters in the middle of the room would be a proper operating table, with his Medigun attached to the ceiling above it, among other strange contraptions.

The medbay has this little side room, that Medic mainly uses for storage. Though it works well as a quarantine room, if the need arises.

Closet Skeleton™!!!

Here we have Engie's workshop, which looks as you would probably expect.

Here we have some utility areas in the basement, consisting of the laundry room, a basement-y maintenance furnace type room, and a washroom.

I would rather keep all the mercenaries' bedrooms together, so I'm gonna skip Heavy and Medic's sleeping quarters for now and head up to the next floor!

This is the main floor of the base, where most of the action happens. It features the garage, meeting room, training gym, showers, a large washroom with multiple toilet stalls, a kitchen and dining area, a small living room, and four sleeping quarters, belonging to Demoman, Soldier, Engineer, and Pyro.

The garage is a bit of a mess, and its most noteworthy feature is the armory, where the mercenaries keep most of their gear during time off. Though clearly not all of them care about the danger of tripping hazards.

There's not much to say about the gym and meeting room, at least in this physical version. Once again, I am held back by the game I built this in. In reality, the meeting room would have a large round table, more centered in the room, and the gym would just generally have more going on for it, but I tried my best to capture what purpose they served.

You'll really have to use your imagination on this one and believe those weird pipes are showers, because I don't own any packs with standalone showers. Anyways, these are the communal showers, where you get to experience the joy of pretending you're in prison and staring at your coworker's butts!

I have a feeling Tumblr won't let me share all the bedrooms in this already ridiculously long post, so I'll probably have to attach them in a reblog. If Tumblr doesn't let me do even that, I guess I'll die? I sure hope it does! I do not know how Tumblr works.

But here's a little peek at some of the sleeping quarters......as well as the floorplan for the top floor even though it's basically all personal quarters. Sniper's, Spy's, and Scout's, to be exact.

[octuscle]

The ghost of Gamma Omega Lambda Delta

“Are you sure we're standing in front of the right house?” asked Leander. The property was in a miserable state. The porch was half collapsed, the front garden a mixture of jungle and garbage dump. The exposé had shown a reasonably presentable house, which certainly had potential as an investment property in the immediate vicinity of the campus. Leander looked at Jacob a little disparagingly. Jacob was the prototype of a sleazy real estate agent. A little too fat for his not-so-new suit. The heels of his shoes were worn out. And with the help of a little too much pomade, the top of his head painstakingly concealed his incipient baldness. Jacob struck a pose. “You know what my real estate investment is all about: location, location, location! And this is a prime location. Perfect for a boarding house for guest lecturers. Or as a commercial student residence for exchange students. The Germans and Scandinavians will pay almost any price for rent.” Leander sighed. He came from Berlin himself and knew how expensive it was to study in California. But it had paid off. He was in his late 20s, a millionaire several times over after the exit of his start-up and he had no intention of dying a millionaire. His goal was a billion. “All right, then, let's take a look at the wreckage from the inside.”

The first thing they saw was a cat fleeing from them in a panic when Jacob unlocked the door. It looked as if no human had disturbed its peace for a long time. The house reeked of cat pee and mustiness. Jacob searched for a light switch with his flashlight. Leander pulled aside a tattered curtain in disgust and opened a window. It was clear: tear it down and build a new one. There was no alternative. The wooden floor was rotten, the light switches didn't work and the stain on the ceiling suggested a leaking roof. But in his mind's eye, there was a Starbucks branch and a co-working space down here and, if he could bribe the building authorities, one- and one-and-a-half-bedroom apartments on eight, maybe ten floors above. The location was perfect. But he didn't want to let his interest show. Leander was a good poker player. “Give me a flashlight, I'd like to have a look around upstairs,” he said to Jacob. And of course he was prepared and handed his wealthy customer a flashlight. “Do you need gloves too?” he asked. Leander waved them off. He wasn't a wimp, he wasn't afraid of getting dirty.

The stairs creaked unconvincingly as he went upstairs. “What was this before?” asked Leander. “A frat house, as far as I know,” Jacob replied. That at least partially explains the dilapidated condition, Leander thought to himself, pushing a pile of leaves aside with one foot in disgust. It wasn't just leaves. There were also the remains of weathered jockstraps. The upper floor seemed to be in an even worse state than the first floor… But at least there was a light on in one room. Amazing!

Jacob left his client alone. When he sold the property, it would be renovated. The property was huge. There used to be a basketball court and a pool on the dilapidated property. Of course, both were no longer recognizable due to the undergrowth and junk. But a dormitory with 20, maybe 25 units could be built on the site alone. The battery in his flashlight was flat. He needed light… And air, it really stank to high heaven in this ruin. Jacob began to draw curtains and open windows. That made it brighter and airier. But it also made the misery more visible. Dude, this place was really run down. The floor was full of garbage and leaves, the walls were covered in graffiti… Jacob came into a hallway that looked surprisingly tidy. There were stains on the wall from pictures that were no longer hanging. Lots of pictures. All obviously the same size. Only one was still hanging:

Jacob read the writing on the plaque on the frame: "Bruh of the month 09/2024: Chad". What the hell? It was September 2024!

Leander struggled through the garbage towards the lighted room. While all the other doors hung crookedly on their hinges and were covered in graffiti, the open door to the room was almost clean and looked tidy. There was a sign on the door that read “Mitch and Scott's man cave. No entry if sock is on the door handle. Unless you can take two cocks!” The room was messy. The way a dorm room was usually messy. But it looked as if Mitch and Scott had just stepped out for a quick shower after a fierce sword fight. It smelled of musk, sweat and cum. Leander got a hard-on.

Jacob felt uncomfortable. Something's not right here. He also had to pee. No, he had to piss. Fuck, his bladder felt like after two pitchers of beer. He had to burp. And his burp smelled and tasted like beer. There had been toilets around here somewhere. Better to piss in a broken toilet than just in a corner, he thought to himself. Yes, this was where the washrooms were. A frat boy was standing at a urinal and wanking. He looked curiously at Jacob's crotch. Did Jacob have to be uncomfortable now? Never mind, he had to piss. And if a bro was wanking next to him, that was somehow a compliment.

Leander opened one of the cupboards. It smelled like a boys' locker room in high school. T-shirts, football gear, jockstraps, sneakers… Everything was just stuffed into the cupboard. Some of it was clean. Other things were obviously not. Without giving it much thought, Leander undressed and pulled on a jockstrap, a pair of ripped jeans and a shiny college jacket. He found a pair of formerly white socks and sneakers on the floor. Everything fit perfectly. But with his 35 years and beer belly, he looked really ridiculous.

“I'm Dylan, are you new here?” asked the wanking bro next to him as Jacob buttoned his jeans. “Because if you're new, you might as well leave your jeans unbuttoned. I prefer to see the cocks of the new guys who suck me off outside their pants”. Jacob looked at Dylan's hard-on. impressive compared to his own. He went down on his knees. “Wait a minute!” said Dylan. “No one blows me with a stuffy shirt like that.” Leander freed his upper body. And let his tongue play with Dylan's shaft.

Leander lay on Scott's bed. He sucked in Scott's scent. For a sophomore, Scott smelled like a real man. Leander thought about Scott's hairy balls. He liked it that Scott didn't shave. Nothing against a clean-shaven cock and clean-shaven balls. But a man was hairy, he thought as he scratched his chest hair. Out in the hallway, he heard Scott and Mitch coming. They were both praising each other's performance at football practice. The two of them came into their room. Scott grinned and said that his prayers had been answered. He had wished for an awesome cardio workout before the party tonight.

Jacob asked his roommate Dylan why they only ever had sex in the washroom and never in their room. Dylan licked some of his own cum, which was dripping from the corner of Jacob's mouth, off his face. “Because it would be totally homo if we slept in the same bed we were fucking in.” Jacob didn't ask. He was here for his wrestling scholarship, not his intelligence. If Dylan, who had at least once had a B in English and supposedly even in math, said so, it would be true.

Jacob, Dylan, Mitch, Scott, and Leander all arrived at the Gamma Omega Lambda Delta fraternity house party cave at almost the same time. The party was in full swing. Jacob and Leander greeted each other with a chest bump. It was customary among the college wrestlers. And then they started drinking. The others had been at it for an hour. They had some catching up to do.

Shit, it was 05:00. Both of them had already thrown up some of the beer and tequila they had drunk. And poured new beers and tequilas. Leander actually had to rewrite his microeconomics exam today. If he failed again, he would probably have to allow the dean to blow him again. But what was much worse was that they had wrestling practice this afternoon. If Coach found out that they had overdone it again as party animals, they would be in big trouble. Okay, but that could also be settled with a blowjob. Besides, they still had four hours to sleep, no one expected the two stallions to show up on campus before 10:00. Life as a frat boy was just awesome!

[cressidagrey]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 9

Summary: 

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings: 

I am retconning Merrill into not being a total bully...and Mor is kinda an idiot.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Cilla couldn’t help but stare. Of course, she had seen the House of Wind before. It was difficult not to. But she had never thought that she would get to see the inside. 

Azriel carefully let her down at the top of the house…not wanting to strain her wings with the flight upwards. So instead, he had picked her up, like she weighed nothing, cradled her to his chest and flown her up to the House of Wind. 

Cilla gazed around in wonder, taking in the sight of the massive building rising before her.

“This is the training area,” he explained, following her gaze as she looked around what…she couldn’t even describe it. Chalk Circles were drawn on the floor and she stared at them for a moment longer. 

“Nesta resurrected the Valkyries…a group of female warriors. They train up here every morning. Some of the priestesses take part. Some others just do it for the self-defence but are not interested in becoming warriors,” Azriel explained as he led her into the house. 

Cilla's eyes widened further as Azriel led her into the house, marvelling at the opulence. High ceilings, large windows, and artwork galore. "Whoever built this place must have been really rich," she breathed out, awed by the sheer size and luxury.

Azriel barked out a laugh. "You are correct," he told her. “Rich, and very vain. It was built by a High Lord of The Night Court centuries ago."

Cilla blinked, "A High Lord?" she asked, trying to imagine the kind of person who would build such a lavish house for themselves. “Why would he build a house like this?”

"Why do any of them build anything the way they do?" Azriel replied dryly. “High Fae aren’t known for their humility, I’m afraid.”

Cilla shrugged. True.

Azriel chuckled at her noncommittal response. "Come, let me show you the library. I think you will like it."

They walked down lower, into the bowels of this massive house, carved out of red stone. She needed to tuck her wings tight against herself so that she didn’t knock them into anything. Cilla followed close at Azriel's heels, her wings brushing against the stone walls. Despite having to walk so close, she didn't feel nervous or constricted. 

They came to a stop at an archway, the space beyond too dark for her to see much. "After you," Azriel said, motioning to the library. "Clotho is waiting for us," he explained. "...All the priestesses that work here...they all have their own trauma," he told her softly.

She nodded. She could hear something in his voice…not quite a warning but something that told her to listen. 

She understood why moments later, when she met Clotho. 

A hooded and cloaked figure, the hood crowned with a blue stone…

“Clotho meet Cilla,” Azriel introduced her. “Clotho is the…the one in charge,” he explained to Cilla. 

Clotho said nothing but inclined her head. 

Could she speak? 

She writes, Azriel’s shadows answered quietly. She’s unable to speak. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Clotho," Cilla said quietly, keeping her voice soft and polite.

“Cilla loves books, so we thought that maybe work in the library would suit her,” Azriel said quietly. “You mentioned that you could always use more help.”

Clotho's cloaked head turned towards her for a moment, studying her. Cilla felt a shiver run down her spine, feeling as if the cloaked figure was somehow looking into her soul.

Clotho held her gaze for another moment before giving a small nod. It was an agreement.

"Clotho will show you around the library and show you how to sort the books. If you do a good job, she might even let you read some of them,” Azriel said, giving the priestess a knowing grin.

Cilla couldn't help but smile at his words, excitement swirling in her belly. The prospect of spending her days surrounded by stacks of books was like a dream come true for her.

Cilla's eyes flicked to the papers in front of her, and she realized that they were a list of instructions on how to sort the books into their respective sections.

She read the list carefully, sounding out the letters in her head, and absorbing the information. It all seemed fairly straightforward. She lifted her gaze back to Clotho, a smile on her face. "I think I can do that," she said quietly.

Clotho gave another slow nod.

"Excellent," Azriel said, a smile playing on his lips. "I'll leave you to it then..."

He reached out and squeezed Cilla’s hand gently, his touch warm and reassuring. "You'll do great," he said quietly, before quietly slipping out of the library.

Cilla watched him go, already missing his presence, before turning back to Clotho. The cloaked priestess was watching her intently, a silent guardian over the library.

Cilla sucked in a shaky breath and squared her shoulders. She could do this.

"Where do I start?" she asked, looking back at the mountain of books that seemed to fill every shelf in the library. Clotho, still silent, lifted her hand and pointed to the far wall.

Cilla looked where she was pointing, and saw a large stack of unorganized books. "Those?" she asked, not wanting to presume.

Clotho nodded, her hood bobbing slightly. Cilla nodded back, steeling herself. "Okay."

She moved forward, grabbing the topmost book from the pile, and began to sort through them, organizing them by author and subject, just like Clotho's instructions showed her how.

It was quiet in the library...peaceful.

Cilla found that she enjoyed the silence. It allowed her to focus on the task at hand, losing herself in the familiar comfort of the books.

She fell into a rhythm, sorting the books one by one, and finding a strange sense of contentment in it.

It was helped by the fact that her shadows got to help, handing her book after book from the neat stacks she made as she shelved them.

It was a dusty job...but it was...easy in a sense.

The monotony of the task only served to lull Cilla further into the peaceful rhythm of it all. Her shadows proved to be a helpful partner, bringing her the books she needed without even needing to ask. It was almost like they knew what she needed even before she did.

And it was a far cry from the backbreaking work in the tannery, she had carried out before

Cilla couldn't help but let out a soft sigh of relief. She had never realized just how much she dreaded the prospect of working in the hot, stinking tannery, surrounded by the fumes and blood and sinew. In comparison, the library was a heaven-sent gift.

And the books. Cilla's heart was in them. As she carefully slid each volume into its designated slot on the shelf, she couldn't help but skim the words and titles, feeling a small shiver of excitement run through her. She knew that it was only a matter of time before she would take them down from the shelf and devour them.

"Who are you?" came a demanding voice behind her.

Cilla jumped, startled by the unexpected voice. Her shadows swirled around her, alarmed. She whirled around, her heart racing, to find a young priestess standing there, arms crossed and staring at her almost suspiciously.

She was beautiful. There was no way around it. Nearly white hair, light brown skin...the bluest eyes Cilla had ever seen.

Cilla couldn't help but gawk for a moment, taken in by the priestess’ beauty. But the priestess’ expression was anything but open or friendly. She raised an eyebrow, clearly awaiting an answer.

Cilla cleared her throat, feeling small under her gaze. "I...I'm Cilla," she said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady. Cilla couldn't help but gawk for a moment, taken in by the priestess’ beauty. But the priestess’ expression was anything but open or friendly. She raised an eyebrow, clearly awaiting an answer.

The priestess looked her over with those too-blue eyes, like a predator sizing up potential prey. Cilla resisted the urge to shiver.

Finally, the priestess spoke. "And what are you doing in the library?" she asked, her voice as cool as her expression.

"Clotho hired me to help with the books," Cilla explained, trying not to shrink back from the intimidating woman. "Organizing them and whatnot."

The priestess's eyes flicked to the neat stacks of books that Cilla had been working on. For a moment, Cilla thought she saw a flicker of interest in her eyes, but it was quickly smothered by a cool aloofness again.

Her shadows twisted and swirled around her nervously, not liking the sudden scrutiny they were under.

Cilla lifted her chin, trying to match the Priestess's cool gaze with one of her own. "Yes," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I am."

The priestess nodded, but her eyes didn't leave Cilla's shadows, tracking them as they swirled about her wings.

Then, finally, her gaze slid back to Cilla's face. "Interesting," she said, something like interest in her voice.

Cilla tried to control her reaction. She wasn’t used to people taking any interest in her Shadowsinger abilities. Most of the time they just regarded her with suspicion or even fear. But this woman seemed...intrigued. Curious. It was a strange sensation.

The priestess took a step closer to her, her eyes still fixed on Cilla's shadows. She lifted a hand, as if to touch them, but pulled back at the last moment. Cilla suppressed a shiver, the intensity in those blue eyes almost unnerving."Did you ever wonder where they came from?"

The question took Cilla off guard. She looked at her shadows, fluttering around her, and frowned. She had never really thought about it. To her, they had always just...been there. A part of her.

She looked back at the priestess. "What do you mean?"

"They didn't always exist, you know," the priestess said matter-of-factly, her gaze still on the shadows. "It's said that they only came into being when the first Shadowsinger came into the world."

"How do you know that?" Cilla asked, intrigued.

The priestess turned her attention back to Cilla, a small smirk playing on her lips. "How do you think I know?" she shot back.

Cilla's shadows swirled anxiously around her, not liking the priestess's challenging tone.

"I read about it," she told Cilla.

Cilla felt a bit silly for not having guessed that herself. Of course, the priestess would know. This was a library, after all.

She gave herself a mental shake. "Right," she said, still feeling a bit off-kilter from the conversation. "So...you know a lot about Shadowsingers, then?"

"I am Merrill," she finally introduced herself.

Cilla nodded in acknowledgement. "Merrill," she repeated. "Nice to meet you."

Her shadows seemed to calm down somewhat upon hearing the priestess' name, but they still fluttered about her anxiously.

"And to answer your question," Merrill said. "There isn't much...because there aren't many shadowsingers."

Cilla's eyebrows rose up at that. "Not many?" she repeated. She hadn't really thought much about how common or rare Shadowsingers' abilities actually were. The realization that she was part of a very exclusive and rare group made her feel strangely exposed.

What about other...abilities?" Cilla asked, her head tilting to the side. "There are so many different types of powers among the fae…are some powers more common than others?"

"Ah, an interesting question," Merrill said, her lips curving into a slow smile. "You should come find me in my office sometimes... You may make a proper research assistant."

Cilla's heart skipped a beat at the words...then her wings shifted, as a flutter of excitement ran through her. "You...You mean that?" she asked, unable to keep the eagerness from her voice.

Merrill's eyes glittered, as if she was amused by her excitement. "I do," she said, her voice dry. "It's been a while since I had a decent research assistant. And with your little..." she lifted her hand to gesture at the shadows. "...abilities, you could be useful."

Cilla's heart picked up speed at the idea of being able to work with Merrill, of getting access to the library's knowledge...of being able to learn and understand her shadows and her powers more

"I'll keep that in mind," she said softly.

"See that you do," Merrill said, a hint of a command in her tone. "Now... I believe you have a job to do."

She gave her a brief nod, before turning on her heel and striding out of the library.

Cilla watched her go, still feeling a bit rattled by the exchange. She let out a soft sigh, her shadows swirling around her in agitation.

Interesting was one word for it, she thought.

"By the cauldron, you do look just like him," another female voice breathed and for one moment Cilla wondered how many other people were going to just drop by unannounced.

Blonde hair, brown eyes...a bright red dress. And somehow, she put her right on edge. Cilla wasn't sure what it was, but she reached out inside her for that golden thread that connected her to Azriel, and yanked.

"I am Mor!"

"H...hi," Cilla replied, trying to sound calm and nonchalant, despite the strange feeling in her gut. The shadows kept swirling around her anxiously.

She’s…a friend of Cassian, Azriel’s shadows told her, but something…something was off. 

Cilla could sense their warning, their caution. It made her own body feel uneasy. She'd always trusted her own shadows' instincts when it came to people.

Her own shadows were poised to act as a shield…hissing to her, words that were too quiet to make much sense.

Cilla felt her own instincts starting to kick in, a strange sense of danger raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

Mor took a step closer, her eyes roving over Cilla's form with a critical eye. The shadows around Cilla hissed, almost angrily, and she unconsciously took a cautious step back.

"You look...so much like him," Mor murmured, her voice a mixture of wonder and something like sorrow. She took another step closer, as if unable to help herself, her gaze roaming over Cilla's face.

Cilla's heart pounded in her chest at the intensity of Mor's gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable under it. Her wings flattened against her back, and she could feel her shadows bristling with alarm.

"Morrigan," Azriel said sharply, suddenly appearing behind her.

Mor gasped, turning around quickly, her expression caught between embarrassment and surprise. She looked at Azriel like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Azriel's gaze flickered to Cilla, taking in her tense stance and the swirling shadows around her. His eyes narrowed as he looked back at Mor.

"I thought Cassian told you to wait," he said sharply.

Mor's eyes widened, guilt flashing across her face. "I know," she said softly, her voice almost sheepish. "But I couldn't help myself. I had to see..."

She trailed off, her eyes roaming back to Cilla again.

Cilla felt a mixture of relief and discomfort at Azriel's arrival, her shadows settling slightly at his presence. But she couldn't help the shiver that went down her spine as Mor's gaze came back to her, as if the faerie woman was trying to drink her in.

Azriel moved to place himself between Mor and Cilla, his stance protective and challenging. Mor's gaze flicked to him, and something like annoyance flared up in her eyes.

"You're spoiling my fun," she said, her voice laced with petulance.

"SHe's not some kind of pet for you to gawk at," Azriel cut her off sharply.

Mor let out an exasperated huff, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not 'gawking' at her," she retorted, her jaw clenching. "I'm just...observing."

"You're scaring her," Azriel said, his voice low. His eyes flicked back to Cilla, making sure she was alright. She gave him a small nod, feeling slightly reassured by his presence.

Mor's expression softened slightly at Azriel's words, but then her eyes flicked back to Cilla again. Cilla could practically feel her gaze tracing her features, like an artist trying to commit them to memory.

Azriel must have noticed it too, as he subtly stepped in front of Cilla again, blocking Mor's view.

"Enough, Mor," he said, his voice firm. "You've seen enough."

Mor let out an annoyed sigh, her eyes narrowing. "But I didn't get the chance to ask her questions," she protested.

"You won't be asking her any questions," Azriel said firmly. His stance was like a solid wall between Cilla and Mor, protective and unyielding. His shadows swirled around him, like sentinels standing guard.

"She's my niece," Mor gave back.

Cilla's heart skipped a beat. Niece...?

"You didn't mention me?!" Mor complained. "Az!"

"It...didn't seem necessary," Azriel said gruffly, his expression almost sheepish.

Cilla tried to process this newly revealed familial relationship. She had...an aunt? Her mind was spinning at this sudden revelation.

"Mor is Rhysand's cousin...and like a sister to Cassian," Azriel explained with a sigh.

Cilla felt her mind trying to comprehend the tangled web of family connections. So Mor was the High Lord's cousin and was close to her own mate?

The shadows around her were strangely silent, almost as if they too were trying to make sense of it all.

But Mor wasn't like a sister to Azriel?

Cilla could sense an undercurrent of complicated history there, as if there were things left unspoken.

The Morrigan…was…a long time ago, Master, harboured some…unreturned feelings for her? Azriel’s shadows answered, sounding nearly sheepish. Nothing ever happened! 

The admission from the shadows made something click in Cilla's mind. All the pieces were beginning to fall into place. Mor...and Azriel...

She glanced at her mate, taking in his uncomfortable expression. Something had definitely happened...or hadn't happened but perhaps should have...Between them.

"It's not what you think, I swear, Cilla," Azriel said quietly, grimacing.

Cilla felt a pang of sympathy for him. She could see the regret in his eyes, and the lingering discomfort he felt whenever Mor was around. But she also felt an unwanted surge of jealousy at the idea of past feelings between him and Mor.

"Oh. OH. No, you don't...You don't need to worry about that!" Mor hurried to add. "I...I always preferred females," she admitted.

Cilla blushed bright red at Mor's admission. She had assumed...well, assumed the obvious. But perhaps her assumption had been too hasty.

Azriel let out a quiet sigh of relief, his shoulders drooping slightly. Cilla glanced at him, feeling a pang of sympathy for her mate. It must still be...unpleasant...to be around the person who you'd had unrequited feelings for.

"Oh, you're adorable," Mor said, a genuine smile brightening her face as she looked at Cilla, taking in her blushing cheeks. Then her attention swiveled to Azriel. "You're a lucky male, Az. She’s very pretty, you know," she teased, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

Azriel flushed at Mor's words, a rare show of colour on his usually cool features. He averted his gaze, looking both embarrassed and somewhat pleased. "Thank you," he mumbled, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck in a sheepish gesture.

Cilla couldn't help but be endeared by the sight of her mate blushing.

[engeorged]

The Bear and the Mountain

My life has always been defined by achievement. I sailed through university, completing a master’s degree in less than six months. I was confident in my intelligence and my looks—black hair, green eyes, and a constant carefully trimmed stubble that suited me. People often called me attractive, and I believed them, but I tried not to let it turn into arrogance. I just knew I had what it took to succeed.

After sailing through university, (I know I sound douchey but I’m just stating the facts) I launched a startup that took off almost immediately. In a few short years, I’d built it up and sold it for an eight-figure sum. I should have felt on top of the world, but instead, I felt empty. I had achieved everything I set out to do by the age of 27, yet something was missing. My life was a series of successes, but none of them brought me any meaning or satisfaction. Life was just a bit to easy.

In search of meaning, I tried everything. I spent time in Buddhist retreat lodges, seeking enlightenment through meditation. I pushed myself to the limits with extreme sports, hoping the adrenaline would fill the void. I even subjected myself to the intensity of sweat lodges, enduring the heat and discomfort in the hope of a breakthrough. Nothing worked. I was left more frustrated than ever.

Eventually, I decided to take a different approach��one that involved solitude and nature. I planned a solo trek through one of the most remote mountain ranges in the U.S., thinking that maybe the isolation would force me to confront whatever was missing in my life. The trek was challenging, but I was used to pushing myself. That was, until the seventh day, when everything changed. I was faced with a ravine and I definitely should have known better, but halfway up I slipped on a loose rock and tumbled to the bottom, breaking my leg badly and covering myself in deep cuts. I tried to move but I was trapped. I tried calling for help but I was literally in the arse end of nowhere. Stranded, in pain, and utterly alone, I realised just how precarious my situation had become.

After nearly a day of lying helpless, my hope dwindling with each passing hour, I heard heavy footsteps. Relief washed over me as a figure emerged from the dense forest. He was tall, powerfully built, and had a thick, bushy beard. There was something imposing about him, yet his presence calmed me. He introduced himself as Bear, and despite my dire circumstances, I couldn’t help but notice that beneath the wild exterior, he was remarkably handsome. His eyes, sharp and clear, held a depth that suggested he understood far more than he let on.

Bear turns out to be a man of very few words and after a few minutes of observing the situation and without a word, he lifted me onto his back as if I weighed nothing and began to carry me through the forest. I’m not gonna lie, it was actually pretty hot! The guy smelt so good too.

We arrived at his cabin, a beautiful structure powered by wind turbines and surrounded by the raw beauty of nature. Inside, the cabin was cozy and welcoming, filled with handmade furniture and intricate wood carvings. Bear set me down on a bed, and the exhaustion from the pain and stress overtook me; I passed out almost immediately.

When I woke, the first thing I noticed was the room. It was rustic yet comfortable, with wooden beams running across the ceiling and a large stone fireplace on one wall. Soft, natural light filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over everything. The bed I lay in was firm but comfortable, and the smell of pine filled the air. But what truly stunned me was my leg. It was expertly set in a splint, immobilized with a level of precision that was astounding. My head and arms, too, had been carefully treated, stitched up with surgical skill. I traced the stitches on my head and arms with my fingers, marvelling at how neat they were. There was more to Bear than he was letting on.

Bear had not only saved my life but had done so with an expertise I hadn’t expected. The man who appeared so rugged and wild had the hands of a surgeon. I wanted to thank him, to ask him how he’d learned these skills, but when I looked around, Bear was nowhere to be found. Instead, next to the bed, there was a tray filled with food—a hearty stew, freshly baked bread, and fruits. My stomach growled, and though I was puzzled by Bear’s absence, I couldn’t resist the urge to eat.

As I ate, I couldn’t help but feel content. The food was incredible—rich, flavourful, and comforting in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Each bite seemed to melt away the tension I’d been carrying. The bread was warm and soft, perfect for soaking up the thick stew. The fruits were sweet and refreshing, a perfect complement to the savoury dishes.

Yet, as I savored the meal, something nagged at me. It was strange that Bear had disappeared so suddenly. I hadn’t heard him leave, and there was no indication of where he might have gone. Still, the cabin was secure, and the food brought me so much comfort that I pushed the thought aside. I was too content, too satisfied to worry about where Bear had gone or why he hadn’t said anything.

As the last bite of food settled in my stomach, a wave of exhaustion washed over me, heavier than anything I'd felt in days. The warmth of the cabin, combined with the fullness in my belly, made my eyelids droop uncontrollably. I didn’t fight it; the soft bed beneath me was too inviting. Within moments, I drifted off, my mind lulled into a deep sleep by the rhythmic crackling of the fire.

When I awoke, the room was bathed in the soft light of early evening, and the fire had been stoked back to life. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the lingering grogginess. It took a moment for my eyes to focus, but when they did, I saw him—Bear, standing near the foot of the bed, a tray of food in his hands. His presence, so solid and quiet, filled the space, and I felt a strange mix of relief and unease.

“Feeling better?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, almost like the sound of distant thunder. He set the tray on the small table beside the bed. The smell of warm, hearty food wafted up to me, making my stomach gurgle in anticipation, despite the fact that I had eaten only hours before.

“Yeah… a bit,” I replied, still groggy but slowly coming back to full awareness. I shifted slightly, wincing at the dull ache in my leg. It was then that I noticed Bear's gaze was softer than before, though just as unreadable. He was watching me closely, assessing my condition.

“I’ve been thinking,” Bear began, his tone even, as if he were discussing the weather. “With the way things are right now—snow, ice, unpredictable winds—there’s no safe way to get you out of here for at least six weeks, maybe more. The mountain’s too dangerous to navigate, even for me.”

His words hung in the air, and I felt a knot of anxiety tighten in my chest. Six weeks? I hadn’t even considered the possibility that I’d be here that long. But before I could react, Bear continued, his voice calm and reassuring.

“I know it’s not what you expected, but I’m happy for you to stay here with me until it’s safe to leave. You’ll be well taken care of, I promise.”

There was a certainty in his voice that made it hard to argue. Despite the odd circumstances and the isolation, something about Bear’s offer brought me a strange sense of comfort. The idea of staying here, under his care, didn’t seem so bad—especially after everything I’d been through so far. My leg throbbed again, a reminder of how helpless I was in this situation. Maybe, just maybe, staying wasn’t the worst option.

I glanced at the tray of food he’d brought—another generous helping, more than I thought I could manage. But the smell was intoxicating, and I found myself reaching for the fork without thinking.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, accepting both the food and the offer with a mix of apprehension and gratitude.

Bear gave a small nod, then turned to tend to the fire, his broad back facing me as he stoked the flames. I couldn’t see his face, but something in his posture told me he was at ease with the arrangement, perhaps even a little pleased. As I took the first bite of the new meal, I couldn’t help but wonder what the next six weeks would bring.

The days blended together as I continued to recover. Bear’s presence was elusive—he was rarely around when I was awake, but every time I stirred, there was more food waiting for me. It became a routine of sorts: I’d wake up to find a fresh meal by my bed, eat my fill, and drift back to sleep. I began to wonder if I was imagining him, but the expertly prepared food and the meticulous care I received were real enough.

Over time, I started noticing changes in my body. At first, it was subtle—my clothes began to feel snug, especially around the waist. I told myself it was just temporary, a result of being bedridden and inactive. But as the days passed, the changes became more apparent. My belly, once flat and firm, was now rounding out, pressing against the fabric of my shirt. It felt strange, yet I tried to convince myself that it was nothing to worry about. After all, I was healing, and once I was back on my feet, everything would return to normal.

Despite these thoughts, I couldn’t deny the pleasure I found in the food. Each meal was a masterpiece—perfectly seasoned meats, creamy potatoes, and desserts that were impossible to resist. I found myself looking forward to the meals, eagerly anticipating the next dish that would appear beside my bed. My appetite grew with each passing day, and with it, my belly grew too.

One evening, after another large meal, I decided to investigate. I ran my hands over my stomach, feeling the firmness of my belly beneath my skin. It was rounder, fuller than it had ever been before. The sensation was both unsettling and oddly comforting. I couldn’t deny that I was putting on weight, but I wasn’t ready to fully accept it either. It was easier to tell myself that it was just temporary, that it was a side effect of healing, and that soon I’d be back to my old self.

But deep down, I knew something was changing. The combination of solitude, indulgence, and the strange, almost mystical care I was receiving from Bear had set me on a different path—one that I wasn’t sure I was ready to confront just yet.

I woke up one morning feeling strangely energised. The routine of waking, eating, and sleeping had begun to feel monotonous, but today something was different. As I sat up in bed, I noticed something new at the foot of it—crutches. Handmade, with sturdy wood and comfortable grips, they were unmistakably Bear’s work. The craftsmanship was remarkable, each detail carefully considered, and I realised that Bear must have spent considerable time making them for me. I looked at the handles and saw a small family of carved bears catching tiny wooden salmon jumping from the curves of the crutches.

Excited by the prospect of moving around on my own again, I carefully swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My leg still ached, but the splint held firm, and with some effort, I managed to stand using the crutches. It felt good to be upright again, to be able to explore beyond the confines of the bed.

The cabin, as I saw it for the first time beyond my bed, was a work of art. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings and paintings, depicting scenes of wildlife and nature. The furniture, all handcrafted, exuded warmth and comfort. There were shelves lined with books, maps, and various trinkets that spoke of a life lived in harmony with the wilderness. The fireplace crackled softly, filling the room with a gentle warmth.

As I hobbled around, taking in the surroundings, I couldn’t help but notice how my body felt heavier, more cumbersome. My belly, once flat and toned, now hung over the waistband of my pants, a soft and unfamiliar weight. I caught my reflection in a window and was startled by the sight. My midsection had undeniably thickened, the result of a week of indulgent eating and inactivity. The roundness of my stomach was undeniable, pressing against the fabric of my shirt in a way that felt foreign and uncomfortable.

I tried to push the realization aside, telling myself it was just temporary. But there was no denying the evidence. The steady supply of rich, hearty food had left its mark on me. I felt a pang of discomfort, not just physically but emotionally. I was a man who had always been in control, and now, control seemed to be slipping away.

As I explored the cabin, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It was a strange sensation, as though Bear was there, observing me, but I couldn’t see him. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I turned to look around, but the cabin appeared empty. Still, the feeling persisted, a silent presence that was both comforting and unnerving.

Eventually, I made my way to the kitchen. It was as beautifully crafted as the rest of the cabin, with a large wooden table at its center. To my surprise, Bear was there, standing by the stove. His back was to me, but I could see the muscles in his broad shoulders working as he stirred something in a pot. The aroma that filled the room was mouthwatering, a rich blend of spices and roasting meat.

This was the only the fourth time I’d seen Bear since he rescued me. He was still the same imposing figure, tall and powerful, his beard thick and wild. But there was a gentleness in the way he moved, a careful precision as he prepared the meal. I watched him for a few moments, marveling at how effortlessly he commanded the space, how naturally he seemed to belong here.

Bear turned slightly, and for the briefest moment, our eyes met. There was something in his gaze that I couldn’t quite place—an intensity, a quiet watchfulness. He nodded toward the table, indicating that I should sit. I obeyed, lowering myself into one of the chairs, the crutches propped beside me.

Bear brought the food to the table—a feast that made my mouth water just by looking at it. There were roasted vegetables, a thick stew brimming with chunks of meat, and freshly baked bread that was still warm from the oven. He served me generously, filling my plate to the brim, before sitting down across from me.

We ate together in silence, the only sound the clinking of cutlery against plates. The food was, as always, incredible. Each bite was a burst of flavor, and despite my earlier discomfort about my weight, I found myself eating with gusto. The food was just too good to resist.

As we ate, I felt Bear’s eyes on me, watching my every move. It was unsettling at first, but as the meal progressed, I began to feel something else—an unspoken connection between us. It was as if Bear was studying me, understanding me in ways that I hadn’t even begun to understand myself. The silence wasn’t awkward; it was charged, filled with an unspoken bond that was slowly forming between us.

By the time the meal was over, I was full to the point of bursting. My belly, already swollen, now pressed even more insistently against my shirt, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret the meal. Bear cleared the dishes with the same quiet efficiency, and as he worked, I realized that my feelings toward him were shifting. There was more to this man than I had initially thought, and I was beginning to feel drawn to him in ways I hadn’t expected.

After the meal, Bear disappeared into another room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sat there, feeling the weight of the food in my stomach and the weight of the growing connection between us. Something was happening here, something I didn’t fully understand yet, but I knew it was important.

As I made my way back to bed, my belly heavy and full, I couldn’t help but wonder what the next days would bring. The cabin had become more than just a place of recovery—it was becoming a place of transformation. And Bear, the enigmatic man who had saved me, was at the centre of it all.

The days turned into weeks, and the cabin, once a place of temporary refuge, became my entire world. The outside world seemed distant, irrelevant, as I settled into this new rhythm of life. My leg was healing slowly, and with Bear’s crutches, I could move around more freely, though I still spent much of my time resting. But it wasn’t just my leg that was changing; my body was transforming in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

Each morning, I’d wake up to the smell of something delicious wafting through the cabin. Bear’s cooking was exceptional, and I found myself eagerly anticipating each meal. There was always a generous spread—thick, savory stews, roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and rich, decadent desserts. The food was comfort itself, warm and filling, and I couldn’t help but indulge.

As I ate, I became increasingly aware of my body’s changes. My once-flat stomach had now grown round and heavy, a firm dome that swelled more with each meal. My shirts, which had fit me perfectly when I first arrived, were now stretched tight across my midsection, riding up to reveal a line of soft hair trailing down to my belly button. The waistband of my pants dug into my sides, leaving red marks on my skin, but still, I ate. I told myself it was just temporary, that I’d shed the weight once I was able to be more active, but deep down, I knew I was lying to myself.

I couldn’t deny the growing attraction I felt toward Bear. It was an attraction born not just from his rugged good looks or his self-sufficiency, but from something deeper, something about the way he carried himself. Bear was a man of few words, but his presence was commanding. There was an intensity to him, a quiet strength that I found irresistibly compelling. I began to crave his approval, his attention, though he never said much.

Bear watched me closely during our meals, his gaze intense and unreadable. At first, his silence made me uneasy, but as time went on, I began to interpret it as a form of attention, a sign that he was observing me, even if he wasn’t speaking. I found myself wanting to impress him, to catch his eye in some way. I started to eat more, pushing myself to finish every last bite, hoping that he would notice.

In those moments, I felt a strange satisfaction as my belly grew fuller and rounder. There was something about Bear’s quiet attention that made me want to show off, to prove something to him, though I wasn’t entirely sure what. I’d stretch after a meal, subtly arching my back to accentuate the curve of my stomach, hoping he’d see how much I had eaten, how much I had grown.

It became a game of sorts—an unspoken challenge between us. I’d eat until I was uncomfortably full, then stretch or shift in my chair, allowing my shirt to ride up and expose my swollen belly. Each time I did, I could feel Bear’s eyes on me, though he never commented. The tension between us grew with each passing day, and I found myself increasingly drawn to him, eager to elicit a reaction, even if it was just a lingering glance.

One evening, after several weeks of this routine, Bear prepared an especially large feast. The table was laden with food—platters of roasted poultry, glazed hams, bowls of mashed sweet potatoes swimming in gravy, freshly baked rolls, and a massive apple pie that filled the cabin with its sweet, spiced aroma. I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement as I sat down, the sheer amount of food both daunting and thrilling.

As we began to eat, I could feel Bear’s eyes on me, watching as I loaded my plate with more food than I thought I could handle. I dug in with enthusiasm, the flavors rich and satisfying. The chicken was tender and juicy, the potatoes smooth and buttery, and the rolls practically melted in my mouth. I ate and ate, determined to finish everything on my plate and then some.

With each bite, my belly expanded, pressing harder against the confines of my clothes. I could feel the tightness increasing, the fabric straining as I continued to eat. I was full—painfully so—but I kept going, motivated by the silent presence of Bear across the table. I wanted him to see how much I could eat, how much I could take in, how much I was willing to grow for him.

When I finally couldn’t eat another bite, I leaned back in my chair, my stomach round and bloated, pressing up against the edge of the table. My shirt had ridden up completely, exposing the full expanse of my swollen, hairy belly. I stretched my arms overhead, feigning a casual movement, but really I wanted Bear to see—to take notice of the way my belly jutted out, heavy and full.

Bear’s eyes were on me, his gaze intense as ever. He didn’t say a word, but the way he looked at me, I knew he was watching, taking in every detail. I held his gaze for a moment, my heart pounding, then slowly lowered my arms and settled back into my seat, feeling the weight of my bloated belly resting on my thighs.

Bear remained silent, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that made me think he understood. He got up slowly, clearing the table as he always did, and though we didn’t speak, I felt as if something had shifted between us—an unspoken understanding that this was about more than just food.

As I made my way back to bed that night, my belly aching from the sheer volume of food, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. I had pushed myself to the limit, and though Bear hadn’t said anything, I knew he had noticed. That silent connection, the way he watched without speaking, was enough to keep me going, to keep me wanting more.

A few days later and after a particularly heavy lunch, I felt the familiar pull of sleep. My belly was stuffed to capacity, swollen and heavy from yet another feast, and I couldn’t resist the lure of an afternoon nap. I made my way back to bed, sinking into the soft mattress, my body surrendering to the weight of the meal and the warmth of the cabin. As I drifted off, the last thing I thought about was Bear—his quiet presence, his intense gaze, and the way he watched over me without saying a word.

I woke up a few hours later, the sun hanging lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. My stomach still felt heavy, the remnants of the meal sitting comfortably in my gut. I stretched slowly, wincing slightly at the tightness in my midsection, before sitting up and realizing that the cabin was unusually quiet. Normally, I would have heard Bear moving around, cooking or working on something. But today, there was nothing—just the sound of the wind outside and the crackling of the fire.

Curious, I decided to get up and look for him. Using the crutches Bear had made for me, I carefully made my way down the stairs and into the main room, but there was no sign of him. The kitchen was empty, the stove cold. It was strange—I had grown so accustomed to his presence, to the idea that he was always somewhere nearby, that his absence felt almost unsettling.

I wandered around the cabin, checking the other rooms, but still, there was no sign of Bear. Finally, I decided to venture outside. The late afternoon sun bathed the clearing in a warm, golden light, the air crisp and fresh. I felt a slight chill as I stepped out onto the porch, the cool breeze brushing through the holes made by the buttons on my shirt as my protruding stomach pushed them out.

That’s when I saw him.

Bear was standing in the clearing, a few yards away from the cabin, chopping wood. He had taken his plaid shirt off leaving his torso fully exposed and I was not disappointed. His broad, muscular back glistened with a thin sheen of sweat that caught the sunlight. His powerful arms, thick with muscle, moved with precision as he swung the axe, the blade slicing cleanly through the logs with effortless power. Each movement was fluid, controlled—his body a study in strength and grace.

I stood there, transfixed by the sight of him. Bear was a man of imposing size, and seeing him like this, shirtless and in his element, made him seem even more formidable. His chest was broad and thick, covered in a mat of dark hair that trailed down to his stomach, which was flat and defined, a stark contrast to my own soft, rounded belly. His biceps bulged with each swing, his forearms corded with veins as he gripped the axe handle.

His entire physique was the embodiment of raw, primal strength—his torso a canvas of hard muscle, honed by years of living off the land, working with his hands, and surviving in the wilderness. There was no doubt that this was a man who had mastered his environment, who thrived in the harshest conditions. His beard, thick and wild, only added to the ruggedness of his appearance, framing his strong jaw and emphasizing the sharpness of his features.

But it wasn’t just his physical power that captivated me; it was the way he moved, the way he seemed so utterly in control of everything around him. There was a quiet intensity in his movements, a confidence that came from knowing his own strength. It was mesmerizing to watch.

As I stood there, watching him work, I felt a wave of emotions wash over me. There was admiration, certainly—how could anyone not admire such a powerful figure? But there was something more, something deeper. I was drawn to him in a way I hadn’t expected, an attraction that went beyond the physical. It was the combination of his strength, his self-sufficiency, and the quiet way he cared for me, even as he kept his distance.

Bear hadn’t noticed me yet, and for a moment, I considered going back inside, letting him continue his work undisturbed. But something kept me rooted to the spot, a need to stay, to watch, to be near him. I took a few steps forward, careful to be quiet, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.

As I moved closer, I could see the details more clearly—the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with each swing, the droplets of sweat that slid down his chest, the rise and fall of his breath. There was something almost hypnotic about the rhythm of his movements, a primal energy that seemed to pulse in the air between us.

Finally, as if sensing my presence, Bear paused in his work. He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, neither of us moved. The world seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the rustle of leaves in the wind. His gaze was intense, penetrating, as if he could see right through me, straight to the thoughts and feelings I tried so hard to keep hidden.

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. My shirt was stretched tight across my belly, the fabric straining to contain the fullness that had developed over the past weeks. Compared to Bear, I felt soft, weak, but the way he looked at me made it clear that he saw more than just my physical appearance.

Bear didn’t say anything—he never did—but there was something in his eyes, a quiet acknowledgment of the connection that had been growing between us. He nodded once, a small gesture, before turning back to his work. I watched as he resumed chopping wood, the moment passing, but the feelings it stirred in me lingering long after.

I stood there for a while longer, letting the sight of him burn into my memory, before finally turning to go back inside. As I walked back to the cabin, my heart was pounding in my chest, a mixture of excitement and something else—something deeper, more profound, that I wasn’t quite ready to name.

The following morning, light filtered softly through the cabin windows, casting a golden glow over everything. I had become accustomed to waking up this way—slowly, with the warmth of the fire in the hearth and the smell of breakfast already beginning to waft from the kitchen. But today, something was different. There was a heaviness in the air, a tension I couldn’t quite place. Bear had been quiet, more so than usual, and as I made my way downstairs on my crutches, I found him standing by the door, staring out into the clearing.

I hesitated, feeling a knot of unease tightening in my stomach. “Good morning,” I said softly, trying to read his expression. He didn’t turn to look at me, just kept his gaze fixed on something far in the distance.

“The weather’s changing,” Bear said finally, his voice low and rough. “Conditions will be good for travel soon. The day after tomorrow, I can take you back down the mountain.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew this day would come, but hearing it out loud felt like the ground was shifting beneath me. I had been so consumed by the strange, quiet life we had built here that I hadn’t fully considered what it would mean to leave. To go back to my old life, to a world that now felt distant and unimportant.

I forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil I felt inside. “That’s… great,” I managed to say, though my voice sounded hollow, even to me.

Bear finally turned to look at me, his dark eyes unreadable. For a moment, I searched his face for any hint of what he might be feeling—relief, sadness, anything—but there was nothing. He was as stoic as ever, his expression giving nothing away.

“Is that what you want?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I immediately regretted it, feeling foolish for needing reassurance, for wanting to know if he wanted me to stay as much as I suddenly realized I wanted to.

Bear’s gaze lingered on me, his eyes glistening in the low light. But he didn’t answer, just gave a slight nod as if the decision had already been made. Then, as if the conversation hadn’t happened, he turned and went back to the kitchen, leaving me standing there, feeling lost and dismayed.

I spent the rest of the day in a fog, trying to process what was happening. The idea of leaving, of going back to a life that felt meaningless in comparison to what I had found here, filled me with a deep sense of loss. But even more than that, I was confused by Bear’s reaction. Did he want me to stay? Did he feel anything for me at all? The thought of leaving without knowing the answer gnawed at me.

That night, as I lay in bed, my mind raced. I couldn’t just leave like this, not without some sign, some acknowledgment of what had been growing between us. An idea began to form in my mind, reckless and desperate, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. If words weren’t going to get through to Bear, maybe actions would. Maybe if I pushed myself, showed him how much I was willing to do, I could finally get him to react.

I decided that the next day would be my last chance, and I would make the most of it. I would eat as much as I possibly could, more than ever before, until there was no way Bear could ignore me. Until he had to acknowledge what was happening between us.

The next morning, I woke with a sense of determination. I had a plan, and I was going to see it through, no matter what. When I made my way downstairs, Bear was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh pancakes filled the air, and my stomach rumbled in anticipation.

Bear glanced at me briefly, his face as blank as ever. I could tell he sensed something was different, but he didn’t say anything. He just placed a plate in front of me, piled high with food—eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and pancakes dripping with syrup. It was a feast in itself, more than I would normally eat in a day back home, but this was just the beginning.

I dug in, eating with more enthusiasm than I had in weeks. The food was as delicious as always, each bite rich and satisfying. I ate quickly, shoveling food into my mouth as fast as I could, determined to finish everything on my plate. My stomach started to fill up, the familiar tightness building in my midsection, but I didn’t slow down. I kept going, piling more food onto my fork, swallowing each bite with determination.

Bear didn’t say a word as I ate, but I could feel his eyes on me, watching. I couldn’t tell if he was impressed, concerned, or something else entirely, but it didn’t matter. I had committed to this, and I was going to see it through.

When I finally finished, my stomach was already distended, pressing against the waistband of my pants. But I wasn’t done. I pushed my plate forward, giving Bear a determined look.

“More,” I said, my voice firm despite the fullness in my belly.

Bear raised an eyebrow but complied without a word. He piled more food onto my plate, another helping of everything, and I started again. This time, each bite was harder to take, the food sitting heavily in my gut, but I didn’t let that stop me. I could feel my belly swelling, the fabric of my shirt stretching tight, but I kept eating, determined to show Bear just how much I could take.

When breakfast was finally over, I was stuffed beyond belief. My belly was round and bloated, pushing out so far that it felt like I could burst, but I also felt a strange sense of pride. I had done it. I had eaten more than I ever thought possible, and I wasn’t finished yet.

I spent the rest of the morning resting on the couch, letting my stomach settle, knowing that lunch would be just as big a challenge. Bear kept his distance, but I could feel his eyes on me every so often, as if he was checking to see how I was doing.

Lunch came all too quickly. This time, Bear served up a spread of sandwiches, thick slices of bread stuffed with meat, cheese, and vegetables, along with a side of crispy fries. My stomach was still heavy from breakfast, but I didn’t let that deter me. I attacked the food with the same determination, forcing myself to eat every last bite, despite the growing discomfort.

With each bite, my stomach expanded further, the tightness in my belly increasing until it was almost unbearable. I could feel my shirt riding up, exposing the swollen curve of my gut, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was eating more, showing Bear just how much I could take.

By the time dinner rolled around, I was in a daze. My stomach was so full and heavy that I could barely move, but I knew this was my last chance. Bear had outdone himself for dinner—roast boar, roasted potatoes and vegetables gravy, rolls, pies and a huge chocolate and custard brioche for dessert. The table was groaning under the weight of the food, and I knew I had to finish it all.

I ate slowly this time, savoring each bite, even as my stomach protested. I could feel every inch of my belly stretching, the skin taut and aching, but I kept going. Bear sat across from me, silent as always, but I could feel his eyes on me, watching my every move.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I finished the last bite of cake. I leaned back in my chair, my belly so full and distended that I could hardly breathe. My shirt had ridden up completely, leaving my swollen belly exposed, round and taut like a drum. I could feel the weight of it pressing down on my thighs, the skin stretched so tight that it felt like I might split open.

Bear stood up slowly, his gaze fixed on my bloated stomach. He walked around the table and stood in front of me, his expression unreadable. My heart was pounding in my chest, a mix of fear and anticipation, but I didn’t say anything. I just looked up at him, waiting.

Then, without a word, Bear reached down and placed a hand on my belly. His touch was firm but gentle, his fingers pressing into the firm, swollen flesh. I sucked in a breath, the sensation of his hand on my overstuffed stomach sending a shiver through me.

Bear didn’t speak, didn’t ask if I was okay. He simply took a piece of leftover bread, slathered with butter, and brought it to my lips. Without thinking, I opened my mouth, letting him feed me, my body responding to his command. He pushed the bread into my mouth, his fingers brushing against my lips as he did, and I chewed slowly, feeling the food settle heavily on top of everything else.

But Bear wasn’t done. He kept feeding me all the leftovers he could get his hands on, piece after piece, each one pushing me further beyond my limits. My belly was so full that I could feel it pressing against the table, the skin stretched so tight that it ached with every breath. But I kept eating, swallowing every bite he offered, my body trembling with the effort.

is eyes never left mine as he continued to feed me, each spoonful a slow, deliberate act. My belly, swollen and heavy, lay like a massive weight on my torso. I could feel every inch of it, tight and firm, my skin stretched to its limit. I shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure, but it only made me more aware of just how full I was. Yet, despite the discomfort, or maybe because of it, I found myself craving more.

Finally, when I thought I couldn’t take another bite, Bear set the spoon down. His hand moved to my belly, resting on the roundness of it, his fingers splayed across the taut skin. I inhaled sharply at the touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against the coolness of my overstretched stomach. He didn’t say anything, just traced his fingers over the curve of my belly, as if admiring his work. The sensation sent a shiver through me, a mix of pleasure and something deeper, more primal.

Without a word, he helped me to my feet, guiding me outside into the crisp night air. The sky was clear, the stars bright and endless above us. I felt the cold against my skin, a sharp contrast to the heat that radiated from my overstuffed belly. We lay down on the soft blankets he had spread out, my belly rising like a small hill between us. I could hardly move, every breath a reminder of how full I was, but I didn’t care. I was exactly where I wanted to be.

Bear settled beside me, his arm draped over my swollen stomach, his touch reassuring and solid. The night was quiet, the only sound the faint crackle of the fire inside the cabin and the slow, steady rhythm of our breathing. As we lay there under the stars, the night stretched out before us, endless and full of possibilities.

I thought back to how I had ended up here—how the search for something more had led me to this remote mountain, to this man, and ultimately, to myself. I had sought out the wilderness to challenge myself, to find meaning in my achievements and push my boundaries. But in the end, it wasn’t the extreme sports or the spiritual retreats that had given me what I was looking for. It was this—lying under the stars, my belly stuffed to the max, feeling the warmth of Bear’s body beside me.

I had found something here, something I hadn’t known I was searching for. Not just in Bear, but in the quiet, unspoken connection we shared, in the way he had cared for me, fed me, pushed me to my limits in a way I hadn’t expected. I had found a peace I didn’t know I needed, a contentment that came from letting go of control and simply being.

As the stars twinkled above us, I let out a slow, satisfied breath, feeling the weight of my belly press down against me, grounding me. I had come to the mountains looking for something, and I had found it, even if it wasn’t in the way I had imagined. And as sleep began to take hold, I realized that I wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Completely fenced in blue estate in Alvin, TX. 2023 new construction has 7bds, 10ba, 10,400 sq ft, $3.9m. Well, it isn't all white inside, either.

It was just built last year and already on the market. It looks like there's a marble inset of da Vinci's Vitruvian Man in the floor. Interesting.

The color of the walls and royal blue moldings cheapen it, but I kind of like the blue marble floors and the fireplace.

They have the pictures too high up, they should always be eye level. Maybe they're tall people, what do I know?

They went with shiny gray laminate cabinetry and big modern fans mounted to fancy baroque ceiling medallions.

I like the backsplash, too.

The primary bedroom has a nice fireplace and doors to the terrace.

Here's a factoid- the big fans, if you get them from this company, actually say "Big Ass Fans," b/c that's the real name of the company. I don't know if these are, though.

Huge ensuite has a round marble shower with round windows. Too bad that they picked such bright blue paint. I really think that softer blues would've looked so much better.

They have this kind of elevator and it's black marble. Creepy.

Each secondary bedroom has its own ensuite.

The 2nd floor landing.

They've got a game room up here.

And, there's a guest room w/ensuite off the game room.

More stairs and another level up.

This must be the uppermost level.

This floor is a giant game room, and it also has 2 beds, so what goes on up here?

Nice bath, too.

Roof top terrace with Astro Turf. I hate that stuff, it deteriorates and clogs landfills.

Looking down from the top floor.

Covered patio with a grill and stuff, plus a pool with a rock waterfall.

Look at how the pool water appears to come up onto the patio.

Here's a hot tub.

The neighbor's property looks like it fits into theirs like a puzzle piece. 1.70 acre lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1259-County-Road-147-Alvin-TX-77511/26491303_zpid/?

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

What a Lovely Mess

Pairing: Billy Washington x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, allusions to smut. Word count: ~1k

Summary: Billy's girlfriend encourages him to explore a more confident side of himself while decorating the Christmas tree.

Author's note: Day six of Smuffmas - tinsel and talking dirty. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

“Let’s get a real tree this year!”

They were words she regretted ever uttering. Getting it strapped to the roof of Billy’s beaten up, old Vauxhall Cavalier and then driving it back had been the easy bit. But then they’d arrived home, and maneuvering the tree up the stairwell of the block of flats had proven rather more difficult.

Why don’t we live on the fucking ground floor, why doesn’t this poxy building have a lift – all were thoughts that passed angrily through her mind as her and Billy struggled to pivot the large Chrisrmas tree between the pair of them around the corners of each floor. The height difference between them made it no easier – he towered over her by at least a foot, meaning they weren’t able to carry the cumbersome load level. Billy had stumbled back at one point, sending pine needles scattering over the stairs as the branches had brushed against the wall.

“Jesus, Billy!” she snapped, struggling to right the giant fir as they’d continued upwards.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he huffed back, his brow furrowed and sweaty with exertion.

“Just be careful, okay?” she said moodily, as they’d begun their ascent of the final flight of stairs.

“Do you think I’m going out of my way not to be?” Billy snarked. “Tell you what, let’s just assume that going forward I’m always being careful, unless explicitly told otherwise.”

Moody prick.

She scowled, falling silent as they leaned the tree against the wall so that Billy could fish the keys from his pocket and open the door. The warmth of the central heating that enveloped her as soon as they were inside soured her mood further – she was already clammy from their ordeal on the stairs and was now being smothered by further heat that made her coat stick to her skin with perspiration. She was desperate to peel it off, but they still had to get the tree situated in the living room.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Billy groaned, seeing what it looked like, once they had it positioned in the corner.

It was too tall for the flat – the top of it bent against the ceiling at a right angle.

“Didn’t you measure it?” she asked exasperatedly, struggling out of her coat and letting it drop onto the sofa.

“Did you see me get out a tape measure at the tree yard?” he sniped, brushing the sweat dampened strands of sandy coloured hair from his forehead in an agitated gesture. “I thought all Christmas trees were just house sized.”

She sighed, biting back the urge to tell him what a stupid thing that was to say. “We’ll just have to chop a bit off.”

“Yeah, I think you’re probably right,” he admitted, staring up at it, “if we lop that bit at the top off, it should be fine.”

“You can’t do that!” she protested, “that will ruin the shape of the tree, and then where we will put the star? Take a bit off the trunk at the bottom.”

“I haven’t got anything that could cut through that,” he told her, turning his attention from the tree to her.

“Well, what were you gonna use to cut the top?”

“You know…scissors,” he said, making a snipping motion in the air with his forefingers.

The suggestion and the gesture had caused an involuntary burst of laughter to erupt from her, the sound immediately dissipating the tension that had built between them from the effort of getting the tree into the flat in the first place. He grinned, blue eyes sparkling as he looked at her.

“You know what, let’s leave it as it is,” she said with a smile, “it looks shit, but I don’t think it’d be our tree if it didn’t.

“Merry shitmas then, babe!” he said with a dopey smile. “Drink?”

A few moments later, the two of them sat on the floor of the living room – her with her legs crossed, Billy with his stretched out in front of him – as they pawed through a battered cardboard box of old Christmas decorations. Threadbare tinsel that had seen better days, chipped baubles and string lights that all seemed to have bulbs missing made up the selection of items that they would use to decorate the monstrosity that crowded their living room.

“I’m sorry for getting stroppy with you earlier,” she said softly, before taking a sip of red wine and savouring the subtle burn at the back of her throat.

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, as his thumbs rubbed idly at the condensation on his bottle of Stella. His eyes lifted to meet hers, taking on a playful look as he continued, “you’ll have to watch yourself though, or you’ll end up on the naughty list.”

“Oh yeah?” she giggled. “You gonna spank me?”

Billy’s cheeks flushed pink and he lowered his gaze, taking a sudden keen interest in the label on his beer bottle, but she wasn’t going to let him retreat so easily.

“Oi,” she chided, setting her wine glass and moving to straddle his lap. She draped a length of purple tinsel around the back of his neck, tugging him closer. “Don’t go shy on me.”

“I’m not,” he said, putting his beer bottle down on the carpet and bringing his hands to rest upon her hips, “I just feel stupid talking like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed with me, Billy,” she urged, “talk dirty to me. I want you to, I like it.”

His face twisted with incredulity, his brow furrowing as he scoffed. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Well,” she began, her voice turning sultry, “you could tell me what you want to do to me, or what you want me to do to you, how I make you feel. There aren’t rules, just say what comes naturally.”

“You go first then,” he insisted, giving her hips a gentle squeeze.

She nodded, biting her lip as she considered what to say. “You make me so wet,” she purred, grinding slightly in his lap to emphasise her point.

Billy’s lips parted, a heavy exhale escaping him. His eyes drifted downwards in momentary hesitation, before lifting back to her face. “I wanna taste it,” he whispered.

“Yeah? You wanna make me feel good with your mouth?” she asked, continuing the lazy roll of her hips against his, using her grip on the tinsel around his neck as leverage. Her core throbbed at the feeling of his growing hardness rubbing against her through the fabric of his jogging bottoms.

“Mmm, yeah,” he breathed, growing more confident, gripping her firmly as he guided her movements. “Wanna tear those knickers off you and have you sit on my face, make you come.”

“Fucking hell, Billy,” she almost moaned, the filthiness of his words taking her by surprise, causing the aching desire within her to grow stronger. “Love how your tongue feels on my clit, you always make me come so hard.”

He groaned, his face pressing into the crook of her neck as he raised a hand to palm roughly at her breast through her t-shirt, making her gasp.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” she urged, pulling back slightly, forcing him to look at her once more.

“I…I want you to ride me,” he stuttered breathlessly as his hand snaked from her breast back to her hip, urging her movements against his clothed erection.

“You want to be inside of me?” she smiled coyly, stroking her fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he said, halting his movements.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, cocking her head.

“I’m done dirty talking,” he told her, sliding the tinsel from around his neck and dropping it onto the carpet.

“You are?”

“Yeah,” he replied, sliding his hands to her rear and giving it a firm squeeze. “Bed. Now.”

Read on AO3

More Billy Washington fics

[allywthsr]

DECORATING | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando decorate your house for Christmas

wordcount: 1.6k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: tell me your thoughts!!!🥹

advent calendar

”Lando, have you seen the third box of decorations?“

”Yes! It’s in the basement, next to the fourth and fifth box.“

You chuckled. Christmas was your favorite holiday and over the years, you collected a fair amount of ornaments.

”Can you get it?“

You were standing in the living room, surrounded by decoration and two boxes when Lando threw himself on the couch, where fir garland was placed. With an eye roll, he rolled on his belly and sighed, ” Can this woman stop obsessing with Christmas?“

”I heard that!“

He sat up and looked at you.

”Do you need to go all out this year?“

”Yes, Lando! It’s the first time in the new house and I can’t wait to see this place being in the Christmas spirit.“

You both recently moved into a house that you built in England, near his parents. It was a modern but cozy home, with high ceilings and beautiful light wood-colored details. It was your absolute dream house, and you were so thankful for Lando that you were able to live this dream.

But it was December and you needed the Christmas spirit with you. You had bought a lot of stuff for the new house when you went shopping alone, no one was able to stop you and before you knew it, the whole car was filled with Christmas decorations and your bank account was screaming for help, but it was worth it.

”I‘ll only get it when you bake me cookies today.“

With an arched eyebrow, you looked at him.

”What does Jon say about you wanting cookies?“

”Y/N! It’s Christmas, I don’t care what he says, I’ll run an extra mile tomorrow.“

”Fine, you‘ll get your cookies if you bring me the stuff and help me set up the trees?“

”Deal!“

He went and gave you a kiss, and slapped your ass, before he made his way down to the basement, to get the stuff. But yes, multiple trees. You bought three fake trees for the living room to put next to the TV, and you wanted to go all out, now that you had the space. Shortly before Christmas, you wanted to get a real tree and place it in the entrance, to create the atmosphere and get the smell of fresh fir.

While you waited for Lando to return you got a little reindeer out of the box in front of you and looked around the room for a place for it to go. The problem with your shopping is, that you buy and buy, without thinking about a placement for the things, so you struggle every year. The reindeer found a place next to the couch for now and next, you pulled out the Christmas wreath, which you placed over the fireplace.

Lando came back with two boxes stacked on top of each other and with a grunt he placed them on the ground.

”What did you buy? These things are heavy.“

”I bought way too much, I need your opinion on where to put things.“

”Let me get the rest and I‘ll help.“

”You’re amazing.“

”Tell me something I don’t know.“

And with that, he turned around to march down again.

Your normal blanket was swapped for a Christmas blanket on the couch, and in one of the new boxes you found all of your pillows so you replaced them, while you were at it. Now it looked so much cozier.

A few loose baubles were placed randomly on the coffee table, with some Santa and snowman figures. White and black cones, that looked like Christmas trees, were placed in front of the window since they were huge, and a garland made out of snowflakes was placed above them. The big Santa was placed on the shelf behind the couch, and a few other little decorations were placed next to him.

Lando came back with the last box and one of the Christmas trees, he put all the pieces on the ground and turned around to get the other ones.

He was a darling for helping you out that much.

You began with making more space for the trees and quickly vacuumed the space, so it would be clean. You brought the vacuum cleaner with you already, you knew how messy things would get with the fake snow and fake fir lying around everywhere.

The bottom piece was placed close to the fireplace, and you fluffed it out, making it look like a real tree with every layer you added. Eventually, you couldn’t reach the top layer and Lando came back to help you.

”You’re crazy for putting three trees up.“

”Maybe, but come on, we have the space, why not use it?“ He sighed, ”Oh, can you help me? I can’t reach the top.“

He took the piece and placed it on top of the rest, fluffing it out.

”It looks good.“

”Thank you, Lan.“

With a kiss to the side of your head, you continued to put up the other two trees, the fake snow on them, making them look like they were freshly chopped from the forest. Only that there was no snow in England.

”By the way, what are we doing for the outside? I want it to be full of lights and figures in our front yard.“

”We can go to the city later and look for some things if you want. We have nothing for the outside yet.“

You went and hugged Lando tight.

”That would be amazing Lan.“

You kissed his soft lips gently.

”Thank you for supporting my crazy Christmas addiction.“

”I‘ll support you no matter what, you know that baby.“

You snuggled your head in his chest and breathed in his scent. You loved his smell, it smelled like home.

”But let’s continue, angel.“

You nodded and kissed his chest one last time and let go, turning around to look at the mess of boxes and decorations.

”I want to put up the water church.“

The water church. It’s a church where some kind of liquid was inside and when you turned it on, glitter was flying through it, technically like a snow globe, but without the shaking. Ever since you bought it, Lando had been amazed by it and said it was his favorite piece, he loved putting it up and looking at it.

So you gave him the church and he put it next to his podium helmets that found a place on a shelf in the living room.

The dancing Santa was placed on a shelf in the hallway, next to the xxl reindeer and the snowflake that had fairy lights in it. These snowflakes were scattered around the whole house, in your bedroom, the bathrooms, the kitchen, the hallway…

You both placed the last few items wherever you and Lando found some space, you put the fir garland around the railing of the stairs and placed baubles all around. The stockings with your names and the names from both of your families were hung over the fireplace. Christmas Eve was spent at yours, so you didn’t want to leave anyone out. The only thing that was now missing was a mistletoe, somewhere random you always put up a mistletoe and it wouldn’t change in your new home.

”Where do you wanna put the mistletoe?“

”Maybe by the entrance?“

Lando nodded and got a ladder from the basement so he could put it on. Because you were lazy and didn’t want to drill a hole in the ceiling you took some tape to fix it on there. It‘s cheesy to put up a mistletoe, but it was a cute little tradition to put it up and it gave you a moment to kiss Lando whenever you wanted. Sometimes you would stand under it and call for Lando, so you both stood under it and had to kiss. Just as now, when Lando stepped down from the ladder he said: ”It‘s time for a smooch“, and pursed his lips, of course you couldn’t deny the offer and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Lastly Lando and you went shopping for some outside decoration. Lots and lots of fairy lights, a glowing Santa, a reindeer, a snowman, and a sleigh wandered into the cart, just like some candy canes and nutcrackers. Lastly, you bought some fir, for the columns in front of your house, as well as some lanterns and red bows.

When you arrived and everything was put up by Lando and you, after you both had two mental breakdowns and Lando had a rage attack at the fairy lights, it looked just like how you wanted it and you couldn’t be happier. The columns were covered with fir garlands, the red bows were placed on the wall, and the glowing figures stood in the garden, creating a sweet scenery. The candy canes were placed next to the path that led to your entrance door, where two nutcrackers were standing, and the lanterns were placed on the steps of the staircase in front of your entrance.

”Thank you Lando!“, you jumped into his arms, ”I don’t think that I would have the dream house with my dream decoration if it wasn’t for you.“

”Only what you deserve, baby.“

He hugged you tight and kissed your nose softly.

”But if you want, you can thank me in different ways than just a hug.“

[asherraccoon]

Fort- Radioapple oneshot

“Can you just tell me what the surprise is already??” Lucifer whined as Alastor pulled him down the hotel hallway.

“No, because that’d ruin the surprise!” Alastor chuckled. He continued to guide Lucifer down the hall, stopping in front of his room. “I worked really hard on this,” The deer demon seemed a bit nervous. “So I hope you like it…” 

“I’m sure I’ll like it, just show me! I can’t wait any longer!!” Lucifer whined impatiently. He hated waiting. 

“Quit whining or else I’ll make you wait until tomorrow!” Alastor threatened, though it was lighthearted.

Lucifer huffed and pouted, but he didn’t complain anymore. 

Alastor pushed the door open and brought Lucifer inside, shutting the door behind them. “Ta-da!” 

Lucifer’s eyes widened.

Alastor had built them a blanket-pillow fort. A comfy looking nest of pillows, blankets, and plushies with a blanket propped up over it to make the walls and ceiling. Fairy lights hung from the top. 

“I-I know it’s… childish…” Alastor itched his neck. “But I thought that instead of a date for our one year anniversary, since you have anxiety and I dislike going out, we could do something nice here at the hotel instead…” He explained, fidgeting with his hands. “You know I’m not typically one for physical contact but…” He looked at Lucifer, who was staring at him with those wide, golden eyes that Alastor adored. “Tonight we can just… relax. Cuddle for a while if you want,” he smiled softly at Lucifer. 

Tears welled up in Lucifer’s eyes.

Alastor panicked. His ears pricked up in alarm and immediatley lowered. “O-Or we don’t have to! We can do something else-” he was cut off by Lucifer hugging him. “O-oh!” 

“I love this idea,” Lucifer mumbled into Alastor’s chest.

Alastor’s ears slowly rose. He put his arms around Lucifer and smiled wider. “I’m glad,” 

“I’m too tired to go out tonight anyway,” Lucifer said. He looked up at Alastor. “Can we go in the fort now?” He asked, excitedly bouncing up and down on his toes. 

Alastor chuckled softly. “Of course we can,” he scooped up Lucifer, earning a squeak from the blonde, and carried him to the fort. He set Lucifer down first and then crawled in afterwards, making himself comfortable amongst the pillows and blankets. 

Lucifer looked around the fort in awe. “This is so cute and cozy, Al!” He giggled. He crawled over to Alastor and sat in his lap, leaning against his chest. This was his favorite position to cuddle in when Alastor was more tolerant of physical affection. 

Alastor froze for a moment. He let out a slow breath and let himself relax. He put his arms around Lucifer and gave him a squeeze. “I’m really happy you like it,” he said. He sounded genuinely releived and happy. 

Lucifer giggled, a sound Alastor loved, and he hugged Alastor tightly. “Thank you for putting this together… And… Sorry for being a brat earlier,” Lucifer let out a small chuckle. 

Alastor laughed quietly. “It’s okay. And you’re welcome. I was kind of nervous about if you would like this idea or not,” Alastor admitted. “When you started to get tears in your eyes earlier I thought I had messed up… I-I was worried,” His ears lowered and he gave Lucifer another squeeze. “I don’t like seeing you upset,” 

Lucifer pulled out of the hug and held Alastor’s face in his hands. “Bambi,”

Alastor flinched slightly when his face was touched but he quickly calmed down when Lucifer used that nickname for him. 

Lucifer pressed his forehead against Alastor’s. “Why in the world would this upset me?”

“Well, maybe you wanted something fancier…” Alastor reasoned.

Lucifer shook his head. “I don’t need some cheesy, fancy, romantic dinner date to be satisfied. Hell, I’d be happy if we just sat in the lobby together drinking whiskey and talking about dumb shit,” He laughed. “I’m just happy to be spending time with my boyfriend,” 

Boyfriend. Alastor’s heart stuttered at that word. Right. He and Lucifer were boyfriends. That's what they were celebrating today after all. “I-” Alastor’s face felt warm. He looked away. 

Lucifer smiled softly at Alastor. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing… Just…” Alastor looked back up at Lucifer. “I guess I’m still not used to officially being someone’s partner,” His ears lowered. “I know we’ve been dating for a year now, so it’s a bit silly. I just… struggle… to get used to these types of relationships,” He sighed. “I’m afraid… I can’t lose you. I don’t want to mess up. I don’t want to scare you away,” He gave Lucifer a tight hug, his forehead resting on Lucifer’s shoulder. “You’ve become too important to me,” 

Lucifer’s heart fluttered. Alastor opening up and being honest about his feelings was pretty rare. He returned the right hug. “You can’t scare me away, Bambi,” He said softly. “I love you too much,” 

Alastor tensed. He always did when he heard those three words. I love you. He sighed slowly. “I-I…” He struggled. He wanted to say it back. He did. But he was afraid. “I-”

Lucifer took a second to realize what Alastor was trying to say. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it back,” He reassured Alastor, pulling back from the hug and taking Alastor’s hands into his. 

“No, I want to,” Alastor said. He took a breath. “I-I l…lo…” He blinked his eyes. Why was this so hard to say? He huffed, frustrated with himself. He looked down at his hands, which Lucifer was holding. “Fuck…” 

Lucifer kissed Alastor’s right hand. “It’s okay,”

“Why can’t I just say it..?” Alastor growled. “I just want to tell my partner that I…” He looked up at Lucifer’s eyes. “How can you say it so easily?” 

Lucifer shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it’s different for everyone. Just because I can say it easily, that doesn't mean you have to as well,” he smiled. “Take your time. You can say it when you’re ready. In the meantime,” He kissed Alastor’s head. “I’ll say it for both of us. I love you,” 

Alastor truly didn’t believe he deserved Lucifer. He pulled the angel into his chest and nuzzled his hair. “I don’t deserve you,” 

Lucifer laughed quietly. “Funny. I always think the exact same thing,” He sighed contently as he snuggled into Alastor’s chest. 

The two lay there  for a few moments, enjoying each other's company in silence. 

Alastor reached over to one of the plushies. A duck. He brought it closer to show Lucifer. “Look,” he said softly. “Ducks are your favorite, right?” 

Lucifer’s eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh!!” He grabbed the plushie and squeezed it tightly. “Yes!! I love ducks!! Oh my goodness this is adorable!!” He giggled in delight.

Alastor’s chest filled with warmth at his boyfriend’s adorable reaction to the toy. He chuckled. He picked up a red and black deer plush as well. “Look, it’s me,” He joked. 

Lucifer smiled. “He’s cute! Just like you!” He kissed Alastor’s cheek. 

Alastor blushed. He pressed the deer plush’s nose against Lucifer’s cheek. “Mwah!” He said with a small laugh. 

Lucifer giggled at the action, finding it endearing. “You’re so silly,” He said, looking up at Alastor lovingly. “I love you, Alastor,” He said in a quieter voice. 

Alastor gazed down at the blonde in his lap with just as much if not even more love. “I-I…” He hid his face in Lucifer’s hair, putting the deer plushie down in Lucifer’s lap. “I… Lo-love… you too…” He mumbled quietly. 

Lucifer’s eyes widened. He looked up at Alastor. “You did it…” 

Alastor’s shy smile widened. “I did it,” he echoed. 

Lucifer smiled widely and hugged his partner tightly. “You did it!! I’m so proud of you, Bambi!!” 

Alastor’s tail flicked back and forth happily as he returned the hug. He felt proud of himself too. It felt even better knowing Lucifer was proud of him for it. 

Lucifer pulled back from the hug to look at Alastor. “Can you say it again?” 

Alastor took a deep breath, “I-I love… I love… You,” It came out easier the second time. His tail wagged happily. 

Lucifer squealed and couldn’t stop giggling. “I love you!!” He kissed Alastor’s forehead. 

Alastor nuzzled his nose against Lucifer’s. “I love you,” Alastor repeated, feeling more confident each time he said the phrase. He even mustered up the confidence to give Lucifer  a peck on the cheek. 

Lucifer’s face was filled with love, pride, and admiration. “I’m so proud of you, Al,” 

Alastor pressed his forehead against Lucifer’s. “Thank you, Lulu,” 

TELL ME WHY THIS IS THE CUTEST FUCKING THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN??

[piratefishmama]

Fake it ‘Till you make it | Part 15

If asked to describe how warm the Harrington house made him feel, Eddie would probably describe it as dipping his backside in an ice bath, balls, and all.

The Harrington Chalet… was like being wrapped up in a warm blanket on the comfiest of sofas, in front of a cosy fire, with a mug of just right hot cocoa placed in your hands, snuggled up against a broad chest, the kind of warmth that only comes from true comfort, a warmth that only comes from belonging.

It was all natural colours, warm browns lit by warm white lamplight. Where the Harrington house had white walls and dark tiled floors without a speck of dust to be seen, the chalet had natural wooden walls, and beautiful dark oak wood flooring, thick wooden beams running across the ceiling.

The only modern thing about it being the floor to ceiling windows that took up the far wall of the living room, which looked out towards the lake not far away. Every material used to build it aside from the glass windows, looked like it was sourced directly from its surroundings, like whatever they’d felled to make room for the chalet, was put into building it.

Eddie wanted to stay there.

He’d only set one foot into the main living room after lugging those bags from the car, bags now at his feet, guitar propped up against the wall, he’d only stopped a moment to take it all in, and decided there and then that this… this was where he wanted to be. It couldn’t be further from the place he’d grown up, yet he longed for it all the same.

And then he felt hands, flattened, sliding around his waist from his hip upwards beneath his shirt to settle atop his stomach, another around the other side, higher from his chest upwards across collar bone and lingering there, a hot breath on the other side of his neck, the warm, broad expanse of Steve Harrington’s chest against his back and his lips just lightly brushed against the side of his neck. If Steve wasn’t currently holding him up he might actually have crumpled.

How did people exist around Steve Harrington and not just spontaneously combust?

He felt aflame, Steve wrapped around him, holding him steady, thrown directly into the deep end even though he’d had hours upon hours to prepare himself for it, how did someone prepare to suddenly be at the very centre of Steve Harrington’s attention at the top of his game? Especially when that someone had never really experienced any game directed at them.

“Keep it in your pants Steven we haven’t even unpacked.” And there went all that tension, built with actions alone, gone with an exasperated comment from Steve’s mother as she shoved one of the heavier of her bags forwards with her foot.

“I cannot be held responsible for my actions when my boyfriend looks this beautiful.” Oh. He was expecting something juvenile, not something that was going to make his heart do a funny little flip flop. He’d never been called beautiful before.

He’d heard a few similar things in bars, but those things were always backed by lewd intent, genuinely having heard ‘you got a pretty mouth, boy’ on one such excursion. Never beautiful. Never something that gave him butterflies. Made him feel special.

“Yes, he’s very pretty, now let him go and go help your father with his bags. Eddie would you be a dear and help me with mine? This one is a little heavy.” He didn’t want Steve to let go, honestly he felt like his legs might actually give out if Steve let go so in the interest of his own balance, he just latched himself onto Steve’s arms to prevent him from letting go.

“Uhhhh… can we just, leave them in here for a bit while we uh… pick rooms? Because uhm… I don’t have a good excuse.” Steve snorted a laugh so close to his ear it actually made him laugh a little himself, he even got a nice little squeeze from Steve’s arms which felt lovely. “But I’d just really like if Steve didn’t move.”

Lynda just looked at them both with that knowing smile of hers, a single perfectly arched eyebrow raised in sly amusement. “Very well, the heavy ones stay here. Steven remember we will want to use the hot tub so do not pick that room.” And she was off after her husband, leaving the two heavier of her bags in the entryway to be moved later.

Eddie turned his head to look at Steve with a small curious frown in silent question “There’s a room on the first floor, it’s technically the guest master bedroom, it has a patio door that leads to the hot tub on the wrap around. Like directly to it, if we pick that room there’s a strong chance of us witnessing terrible horrible things. Nobody ever picks that room.” It was great if you were alone in the house, or if it was just you and a special someone, then you could pick it, but… other company would ultimately either see your business, or you’d see theirs.

Not a fun time.

“Sounds like you’ve had a terrible experience.”

“I repeat, terrible, horrible things. C’mon Bambi, let’s get settled in.”

“Where’d that come from?” He asked, just before Steve could let go, sure Steve’s arms relaxed a little in their grip, allowing Eddie to move a little, test his balance to find it was actually fine, that his legs hadn’t mysteriously transmuted into jello, he didn’t pull away through, instead he turned in Steve’s arms, just to look at him “The Bambi thing, where’d that come from?” It was the third time Steve had called him that, the first on the plane, second in the car… and now—

“Your eyes, man… those big beautiful brown eyes of yours, you’ve got eyes like Bambi. Has no-one ever… called you that before?” Steve stepped backwards, he removed his arms, instead placing his hands on Eddie’s arms, just holding him, looking at him, seeing him.

“Uh…no no, most I get is freak, fag, or… that I have a nice mouth?” Eddie didn’t expect the pained expression on his faux boyfriends face, no matter how brief it was. “It’s okay, like… you expect the insults I guess… we live in a small-minded shithole, and I never deny the rumours so it’s not like it’s not expected. And the places where it’s okay for us to be, well… they kind of expect a certain level of experience or they expect you to want them too when you go there an well…” Eddie didn’t have that experience.

An he didn’t feel very comfortable leaving it up to a total stranger to guide him through gaining experience. Especially with how dangerous that was right now.

Besides the danger though, what if it sucked? He didn’t want it to suck, why did that have to be the be all and end all of first queer sexual experiences? Why couldn’t it be good? Why couldn’t he have his toes sufficiently curled?

“I wish I knew what to say to make it okay...” Robin would know what to say. Steve had barely dipped his toes into what he enjoyed, into who he was beneath the performative nonsense of his past.

Steve was just… Steve, and Steve rarely really knew what to say.

“Don’t worry about it big boy, you calling me beautiful just made my year, I will treasure it always, it will feed my ego for years to come so you don’t have to say anything else. Now let’s go pick a room” Just to make sure Steve knew it was okay, Eddie leaned forward and planted a kiss atop those two cute moles on Steve’s cheek, grabbed his guitar case, then offered his other hand. “Wanna show me around?”

“Yeah…” Steve breathed, an almost dopey smile on his face as he took Eddie’s hand “yeah okay, let’s do that, rooms are this way, but first, uhm... Bambi's okay right?”

"Yeah, Stevie... Bambi's okay."

Part 17

[msmoony7]

New Beginnings

Summary: Y/N transfers to Hogwarts from Ilvermorny and finds herself intrigued by the quiet, sandy haired boy Remus Lupin.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader, reader not in a specific house

Word Count: 1.4 K

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

masterlist

You wake up in your bed to the sun shining and the birds chirping through your opened windows. You arrived late last night to Hogwarts and slept in a little later than you had liked; It was nearly lunch time. Classes are starting tomorrow, so you are planning to explore the castle a little before then to get used to your new surroundings. Transferring schools in your 5th year was difficult, so you were hoping to make the adjustment as easy as possible for yourself.

Since there are no classes today, you’re free to dress however you like. You opt for a pair of light blue jeans, black converse, and a blue sweater with some vertical stripes over your chest. You sit at your desk and do your usual makeup and hair routines before unpacking the rest of your things. First you unpack your records and record player. You put on your favorite album - The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars by David Bowie - while you finish unpacking. You got lucky and your dorm has a big bay window with a built-in seat with cushions and large bookshelves built into the wall around it, which is great for you due to your love of reading and insane collection of books. Your bed is in the middle of the room with a huge bed frame and blue curtains draping from the top. After you are all unpacked, you decide to make your way down to the Great Hall for lunch. 

You only have to stop and ask 6 kids along the way if you were going in the right direction. The ever-changing staircases made for a confusing walk there. But finally, you make it down the last set of steps and can see the Great Hall in the near distance. You’re about to turn into the hall when you stop in your tracks as you hear a great boom in the hall followed by smoke and yelling. You see a guy with long jet-black hair run past you first with a glasses wearing brunette on his trail, followed by a shorter boy with blonde hair.

“Come on, Moony, we’re gonna get caught!” you hear the first boy yell. You’re about to turn around to walk into the Hall and see what’s going on but before you could do so, you hear an “oh, shit” and as you turn fully around, are knocked to the floor by someone running full speed out of the hall. You hit the ground and lock eyes with a sandy haired boy who's laying fully on top of you. You’re staring at each other for a solid five seconds before the blonde boy yells at him. 

“Moony, hurry up! Snape’s coming!”

Moony, who you gather to be the boy currently laying on you, quickly helps you up, mutters a quick “sorry” and runs up the stairs to follow the other three boys. You can hear them muttering and making fun of him for falling onto you as they’re running away, and you see “Moony” trip again before all four boys disappear up the steps. Just as they disappear, a raven-haired boy with smoke and powder all over him storms out of the hall and up the steps. You make out that he must be Snape and that the explosion was definitely caused by those boys. 

You finally gather yourself and you see three girls standing by the doorway who must’ve watched everything go down. 

“Quite a tumble you took there. That’s Moony, he’s a klutz,” says a girl with dark, curly hair and a darker complexion, “My name’s Mary. Are you new here?”

“Yeah, my name’s Y/N, I just got here last night.

“Ahhh you’re American! I’m Marlene,” the second girl speaks up. She has blonde hair and a really cool vibe to her. 

“You can come eat with us, if you’d like. I’m Lily, by the way,” says the final red headed girl.

The four of you walk into the hall and you cannot contain your amazement at what you’re met with. The ceiling is the highest ceiling you’ve ever seen, and it’s enchanted to look like the sky. Unlike your old school, which had tables divided by the houses, this hall had numerous smaller rectangular tables so that you could sit with whomever you liked. The four of you grab a table and start eating your meal.

“Those boys are the biggest troublemakers in the school,” Mary says, “Always pulling pranks.”

“Yeah, we still love them though,” Lily replies.

“You more than others,” Marlene says to her as she nudges and winks at her.

Lily blushes in response, “James, the one wearing glasses, yeah, he’s my boyfriend. A real sweetheart. Unless you’re Severus, of course.”

“I take it that’s the boy that had all the smoke on him?”

“Yep, you’d be correct. The boys tend to overreact, but he really isn't a nice person. Steer clear of him,” Mary says.

“Noted. So, that guy, Moony, what’s up with him?”

“Ooooo, Y/N’s got a crush already?” Marlene snickers towards you, making you blush.

“Not a crush, but from our five second interaction, I think he’s pretty cute.”

“You should go for it,” Marlene says, “In all our years at Hogwarts, I don’t think I’ve seen him talk to girls that weren’t us for more than a minute. I’d say you have high odds.”

“Oh, I can’t do that. I’m too shy,” you contest.

“Well, that’s perfect! He’s pretty shy himself. What do you do in your free time?” Lily asks.

You list some of your hobbies for the girls, including reading, writing, and music.

“Well, aren’t you the perfect girl for him. He loves all those things. Tell me you like Bowie,” Mary says. You say nothing in response, shocked that they can read you so well, which causes the girls to yell. “You ARE the perfect girl for him. Come we’ll show you around the castle and then we’re sending you off to him.”

Before you can fight them on this, they’re pulling you around the castle showing you every nook and cranny. You’re grateful for this; You wouldn’t have been able to find your way around otherwise. They show you all the classrooms, take you on a tour of the grounds outside, up all the towers, and finally, you end the tour at the library.

“This is the library,” Lily says, “Since you like to read, I’m sure you’ll spend so much time here. Lucky for you, this is Moony’s favorite place! And if my calculations are correct, he should be in there right now. C’mon, let’s go find him!”

Lily is dragging you inside, and she’s a lot stronger than she looks. They drag you to the far back corner of the library in a hidden nook, revealing the sandy haired boy from before sitting on a couch, nose deep in a book. He doesn’t hear you guys approaching at first and once you guys are a few feet away from him, he pulls his head out of his book and looks up. He immediately locks eyes with you, causing both of you to blush. 

“Gotta go, bye!” Marlene says as she pulls Lily and Mary away from you, leaving you alone with the boy. The two of you still staring at each other, not knowing what to say. 

“Hi,” you say breathlessly.

“Hi,” he says back.

[tiredsmashbros]

"happy birthday, bluejay."

2k words ; tsari fanfic

"gAH!" tari yelped as she lost her grip on the wooden plates nailed to the tree. fear of adrenaline rushed inside her veins, glancing a peek below her, acknowledging the height and distance above from the ground. she didn't have a fear of heights, yet it still was an alarming issue to imagine in her mind what could happen if she were to fall.

"w-wOaH! bj, grab my hand!" tsb directed extending his arm out, using his stretchable ability to allow tari a more secure reach. "come on!" he exclaimed, assisting her up until she was finally standing on the wooden surface base marked on their destination. "heh, trying to fall again now are we?" the man chuckled in hopes of lightening the mood, referencing an inside-joke recall based on their first meeting, "but on your birthday? what kind of a crazy bird are you!"

tari giggled, relief dominating over her after finally arriving at the top of tsb's home. "i'm not used to climbing up!" she began, taking a break to catch her breath, "why'd you have to live up so high? it's challenging to come to visit you!" the bluejay spoke glancing her eyes to take in the view as she recovered. she could see the showgrounds perfectly where she stood, watching her friends play in the grass field, and even a clear view of smg3's coffee and bombs. it was just a marvelous view, pondering why she hadn't thought to come here more often. with the wind brushing onto her face, and the shade provided by the tree's leaves to guard from the sun it was evermore peaceful and quiet. her worries gone within an instant, it was relaxing to say.

"then i suppose you'll have to come by more often to see silly o'l me, huh?" tsb responded, opening the entrance door for tari to enter. "birthday girl first~" tsb flirted, forming an exaggerated body gesture for her to enter in. tari shyly smiled and nodded, making her way inside the blue and yellow man's humble abode.

as if it was her first, tari couldn't ever grasp how peculiar and unique tsb's home was structured. the outer appearance appearing as a regular small treehouse built from wood and nails. yet the interior, god the interior was like an entirely whole other world. seemingly cartoonishly larger, covered in bright light blue walls, white clouds painted onto them. additionally, small rainbows scattered around. a giant painted sun on the ceiling, accompanied by multiple small paper-shaped stars assisted with tape dangled down from right above. high enough where her standing wouldn't bother it, but not so high where you couldn't acknowledge them. the area was furniture filled with shelves of unused big and small canvases, all sorts of art materials neatly placed and organized, with the man's silly personality of individually colored beanbags to sit on, and nets filled with all kinds of plushies and toys. it felt like a dream house for an art child really. dried used paint splattered about here and there on the walls and floor adding color to the bright white room.

"still breathtaking for you, birdy? i thought it would still be boring even doing some minor edits here and there." tsb scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment noticing tari's positive expressive expression as she glanced the place up and down, side to side.

"are you kidding? how could i not be? any normal person would find this breathtaking! your place is an absolute dream house, tsb! it's bright, cozy, colorful, and a playground of endless creative creation! i can't get over how you can manage to create this all yourself! very impressive!" tari exclaimed, as her smile stretched up to her cheeks, really absorbing and giving a twirl around the space. excitement fueled her as he bounced about exploring the other familiar areas and all of its satisfying gleam of bright colors. it felt like she truly was up in the clouds or a figment of what she felt was a physical imagination of heaven.

tsb could only watch and giggle from the side. his heart was pounding in glee seeing the bluejay prance about in joy, admiring the work of art he's created for himself to call home. he felt an over beamed of satisfied joy he endlessly craved being appreciated. especially from her. a compliment from anyone would've still been appreciated of course, yet hearing those words coming from her felt like he could die at any moment. and he wouldn't mind.

after some time of tari exploring the area admiring all the nooks and crannies of tsb's dream-like treehouse, tsb finally directed tari to his bedroom. a place he... coming to the realization he had never shown her before up until now. the first time smg4 interrupted them cutting their time short, and other visits were with other guests visiting to do arts and crafts or play board games. yet this was the first since her first visit it was just the two of them. tsb grew nervously anxious as he tiled the sun-shaped knob of his door, allowing entry to the girl he admired most. it was just his room and he truthfully had nothing to hide, yet it was still nerve-racking for him, pondering about her opinion.

"t-this is my room-" before tsb could even continue to create a proper introductory description, tari jolted up in joy, squealing in glee rushing inside to admire the new room, eager to explore. it had the same vibe and aesthetic as the main entrance room, the entire treehouse quite frankly, yet this room specifically was more in the theme of tsb's main colors. yellow and blue! additionally, instead of the walls being painted or scattered with paint, they were filled with drawings drawn on paper of different mediums taped onto the wall.

entering the room revealed tsb's bed, filled with drawings of rainbows and clouds above as seen the theme all over the place. the bed is cuffed below of soft felted cloud-shape border with a uniquely colored placed rainbow for a bed frame. to the right side of the wall was a large window viewing of the sky, and next to it a tall dresser. accompanied by the wall where the door was placed, was filled with drawings she could recognize were drawn from her friends. boopkins, luigi, heck even some dumb doodles from smg3 she recalled tsb telling the tale of them hanging out one night.

the last wall to the left side of the room erupted with colors of different shades of green and brown. taken aback coming to the realization tsb's home lacked the color green almost entirely, let alone any color of brown other than the "disguise" from the exterior. illustrations of trees, squirrels, and small rodents, and what she could make out looked like a television. causing a shiver down her spine being reminded of mr. puzzles, yet these looked nothing like him. furthermore, they looked the same tv of a design with a nice chestnut brown with a cyan-like blue screen. some with hearts, some crossed out even wrinkled, and others... tari stared at it in confusion. she assumed it was an interesting relation due to tsb heavy interest in cartoon shows, he would watch several frequently with mario. however, something inside her told her it meant something else. as if it linked to-

"soooo what do you think, bluejay?" tsb queried, interrupting tari's thoughts. to the bluejay's surprise, he was resting on his bed in a crisscross position with his hands questionably behind his back slightly awkwardly.

"oh! i-it's awesome!" she quickly responded, trying to rid herself pondering over the mystery of this "tv". "i don't recall you ever showing me your room before. what gives! trying to hide more secrets?" she confidently spoke back, removing any possible suspicion. taking a seat next the the cartoony man.

"noo, of course not! just something i suppose i hadn't had the time to show you till now." tari rolled her eyes playfully trying to seem hurtful by his response. tsb giggled.

suddenly, he began to clear his throat, straightening his back, and shifting closer to tari with a slight struggle refusing to use his hands for support. however, fear rose inside as he wondered if he was too close to the bluejay, but she didn't seem bothered and instead mimicked his actions. receiving another giggle from the man feeling his face grow hot. "i uh," tsb began, "i have a gift for you! um..." tsb slowly unhidden his hands to reveal a bird-like figure in his palms. tari began to decipher it being a hand-crafted bluejay figure with a neatly small bowtie around its neck. yet she was utterly confused and speechless, it allowed tsb to continue his monologue. "i'm... not very good at making something supposedly grand like parties or cakes, for someone's orbit around the sun, but i do like handcrafting things for people i... um... admire most." tsb confident outward speech turned to stutters and quiet speech seemingly looking down as he could feel his hands sweat under his golden gloves. "i hope you like this gift-"

"of course i do!~" tari finally bursted into squeals having her hands turn to fists positioned up to her face in an attempt to hide her overly joyous smile. shifting her position to admire the beautifully hand-crafted bluejay more up-close. "it's so cute!~" she squealed once more feeling like she could feel herself almost cry from overstimulated happiness. "how did you use to make it?" she queried swiftly, staring at tsb's shades, eyes wide with sparks of adoration.

tsb only stuttered to find the words, his face growing hotter by the second hearing the beats of his pounding heart inside his ears. "i-i used cardboard to create the base of the shape... and um gluing layers of newspaper to give some texture... a-after painting it with acrylic- nO gouache a-a-and reusing some old thick ribbon i had in my scrapes to gave it a bow!" swiftly adding in the end, "y-you know! because it's a gift! cause it you're birthday! a-and purple to match your eyes! b-because your eyes are purple! oH and this is a bluejay, not a duck i-i-i-im not sure if that was obvious um-"

"it's perfect.~" tari softly interjected, cupping tsb's hands and lowering them down from their chests. "it's adorable of you think of me like that. i've never received a gift like this before... it exactly represents me and considering the thoughts you had i seriously appreciate the effort you put in. it's," tari couldn't help but giggle.

before tsb could muster to search for words to say thank you, tari kissed tsb on the cheek. "it's really cute. thank you.~" shots of physical cloud of air flew out of tsb's ears, face even red than the color red itself, stunned and completely flustered he sat there frozen. tari once again giggled seeing the clouds of smoke coming out of their ears like a real-life cartoon, yearning to see what more of a reaction she can get. she was always fascinated by tsb's strange cartoonish nature she just simply adored him more and more. nothing about him could ever bore her. 

just if by instinct, she removed her hands from tsb and reached out to remove tsb shades. settling it down by the bed, gazing admirably into his brown eyes as they were shifting animatedly to pink hearts back and forth. "t-tari-" tsb started, but was unfortunately cut off by someone outside. turning his eyes into pupils with red outlines from surprise.

"tari!" a familiar voice called, "TARI!" smg4 called again louder.

"smg4 must have the party essentials ready. we should go till he gets impatient hehe!" tari stood up from the bed grabbing the bluejay gift with one hand while the other grabs for the cartoon man's glove. 

"y-yeah..." he replied, still stunned by what happened. eventually after a soft tug from tari, he regained his senses and threw back his shades on. springing off the bed and following tari out of his room. 

"you think there'll be cake left after mario gets to it first?" tsb asked.

tari chuckled, "i doubt it." 

END

[siremasterlawrence]

The Evolution Of Jay

Part 1

Slave Jason Michale Maxwell Lyle Harper is my newest subject slept in for a bit whenI woke up myself and fuels his number waking him up from his deep slumber to come to my aide. He yawns hearing his fun as he blares on so loudly waking him up as he rolls over to the opposite side of the bed picking him up his cell phone and lifting it to his ears as a very familiar voice roars.He comes through the door deck in yellow tee, grey tee and tight jeans sneakers so lazy a easy put together assemble like it is never before and he has this incredibly sweet smile. So damn hot I cannot even try to deny what is going on as he slams the door and he begins foal approach me with such kindness and he falls even more deeply for me.He smirks gleefully with wide gigantic hug with huge arms wrapping around my body like a towel and his arms hold me downward like a blasted hanger he lifts me up to the years. I am smacking his ass harder as he climbs on top of him the force of his body slamming me down on to the bed and his heft body clocking me and all I can think it is heaven.

“Hello?”

“Good morning boi”

“Mmmm…yes master”

“I love you “

“Me too”

“Hurry up!”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes “

“Make it eight ”

“Yes Master”

“I’m here “

“How much do you love me?”

“Here to the moon”

“How much do you want me?”

“With my life “

“Your life “

“I give anything for you “

“Woah! Wow!”

“You are my idol”

Part 2

Jay smirks as the spell I cast begins forcing his body to ripple upward and downward with muscles and super sonic speed he looks stunning with better body built likea tank and my life is completely about to have a change. His body grows a bit taller towering over me in a sexy splendor of utter pure undiluted love, sex and pleasure like no other before except to serve me as be overshadows me with a powerful shift is happening and his body drapes over me.A sweep of power swoops over his body in a sea of lust, love, desire and sexual pleasure the weight crushing on top of me moving my upward and downward as my cock inserts in to his ass plunging deep and with that he is crying vigorously.His nipples are so sensitive at the touch of my hand to see him swoon with a simple lite touch, my lips touch his lips tracing down to his neck, through out the rest of his you as he swirls in pain and I can see the pain but also the pleasure. Climbing on top of him once more I lay my lips on him as we make out at first very slowly the pace increasing a little bit at a time and we make out and I can see his heart beat raising with him tearing up as his face shifts. I have fallen for him as I rise up to a pillow playing behind my back by him as I look up to see a new male version of the person I own and soon enough he is undoubtedly is the same guy but with a even better person and I lovingly am in awe fully accepting his wondrous new form.

“My master! Please”

“What boi? I fucked you “

“Hold me tight “

“Come here! My dear”

“Yes Master”

“Oh thank god!

“Mmmmm! Feel so safe”

“I am not a man! Am I?”

“No! You are most definitely not!”

“What am I?”

“A pussy, a cunt! A bitch”

“Yyyeeesssss”

“Can I stay with you ?”

“You are staying the night “

“I meant move in”

“That is fast pussy”

“Mmmm! Fuck! I want you! I need you “

“Can’t live without me? Too scared to be separated.”

Part 3

I inform he smells like shit after a long day to go take a shower for me cleansing himself for his transformation to come as he sighs a bit and he stares at me for a few minutes or so.He strips off his clothes throwing them on to the nearby chair as he makes a huff walking back to his bedroom determined to please me and shuts the door as he enters the bath room.He lays his back on the door staring up in to the ceiling as he wonders his faith as he sigh one more time watching his face begin to be able to shift and he sudden in little effort becomes a bit older and a sort of grizzled. Walking towards to the mirror he cannot see past his face at how much more handsome he has become slowly his body grows more muscular and blowing him up in to this very insane sight of a man. He takes a look at himself with this gaze of lust of his one desire with so much need to please me simply because he can’t get a image of me and finally he pulls away to side the window open.He hops in to the shows yanking the shower curtain to the side, swigging the knob as the shows rains down on him like a bath from his god and he is so blessed to be whatever I want or desire.

“Mmmmmmmpppppppffffffhhhhhhh”

“Ooooohhhhh Ggggoooooddddd!”

“Ffffuuucccckkkk”

“What a bitch?”

“Master! I want you to”

“Mmmmaaaasssstttteeeerrrr”

“Baby!”

“Yyyyyeeeesssss”

“I need you! Claim me it’s about time”

“You have captivated me”

“I have fallen in to your trap “

“I can’t lie to you “

“Your plan is unfurling “

“I am at your behest “

“I am enthralled by you “

“Use me like the worthless punk I am “

“Give me life “

“I hear you cry baby”

“What? You installed a camera, microphone and audio!”

“A need to track my property!”

“Fuck YES!”

“I am Jay now, I am happy and on my way”

The end

[talesofesther]

tangle me in all your broken pieces (and watch me stay) | ch 3

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: An Asgardian god has just threatened your planet and you were called in to provide a little help. What you didn't expect was to develop a strange soft spot for said god, who hid more pain behind his cold facade than you thought possible.

A/N: This story is already occupying a very special place in my heart.

Word count: 4,2k

Masterlist | Read ch 2 here

You arrived at Stark Tower a little before noon. The quinjet landed on top of the building and you were once again relieved to be stepping out of it. The ride back had somehow been even worse than the one before, as there was a heavy shadow looming in the air.

Loki had been quiet since he'd stepped back in the jet after the meeting with Odin, his eyes always downcast, fixed on his cuffed hands. You couldn't blame him—even though it felt foreign to see him so… broken, compared to the confident god you first saw being escorted to his cage a couple of days ago—you could only imagine how bare he must be feeling without his powers.

You walked out of the jet and followed Tony inside the top floor of his tower, trying to ignore the weight of a certain stare on your back. Sometimes you forgot just how much money Tony had, being here was a good reminder. Floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked all of New York allowed the sunlight to shine on the plush, velvety burgundy couches, the marble walls, the exaggerated chandelier, and the fancy built-in bar. You certainly won't mind living here, it was quite a step up from your humble apartment.

"I'll arrange for someone to go pick up your stuff from your apartment," Tony spoke, glancing at you over his shoulder, "do you want to go with or wait here?"

"I can wait here," you shrugged, "As long as they bring all my clothes, my laptop, and my cat."

Tony stopped in his tracks and waited for you to reach his side. He narrowed his eyes, "So we're having an actual cat too?"

You opened and closed your mouth, "Uh- I can't leave her alone in my apartment for so long, Tony."

The billionaire hummed halfheartedly, resuming his path toward the elevator at the far end of the room. "No scratch marks on my furniture, please."

"Me and Thor will have to hang back for now," Fury called, walking up to the built-in bar and pouring himself a drink, "I assume you have it handled from here?" He raised an eyebrow at both you and Tony.

"Yes, darling," Tony answered with a smile and pressed the button for the elevator. He whistled and gestured with a hand for Loki, "Come on, reindeer games, you're with us."

Thor let go of where he had been holding Loki by the arm, "I'll see you later, brother." Not waiting for an answer, he threw a smile your way and joined Fury, already asking about the drink in the director's hand.

Loki approached you with staggered steps, huffing out a sigh when he stopped beside you. He still had those same traces of anger lingering on his features; lips drawn into a line, eyes just a tad narrowed, shoulders tense.

The elevator arrived with a ding and you, Tony, and Loki stepped in; with Loki in the middle.

Your hands were clammy, you brushed them on your black jeans to try and chase the feeling away. You didn't know why you were so nervous, this had been your idea, after all. Maybe it was because you could feel all that tension flowing off of Loki—with him standing so close to you, his shoulder mere inches away from touching yours.

The ride down a few floors was agonizingly slow, with only the low humming of the elevator as it moved.

You cleared your throat and broke the uncomfortable silence. "Tony," you called, leaning just a tad forward so you could see him past Loki. You showed him your wrist and wiggled it, raising your eyebrows pointedly.

A deep frown etched itself into Tony's features until his eyes lit up when he understood what you meant. "Oh, right." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a thin, black bracelet with an even thinner strip of soft green light around it. "Because we are civilized," he began, turning to Loki. "I took the liberty of making you this." He raised the bracelet in front of the god, who looked wholly unimpressed.

Unceremoniously, Tony reached for one of Loki's wrists and clasped the bracelet on him. It closed comfortably yet forcefully, it wasn't coming off anytime soon. Once it was secured, he finally removed the uncomfortable handcuffs Loki was still wearing.

A grimace appeared on Loki's face, he rubbed his wrists as soon as they were free. You winced as you caught sight of the reddish skin from where the cuffs had been pressuring. He then turned the single wrist that now styled the new device, observing it closely with a small frown.

Loki chuckled; "You can't expect this little thing to keep me here."

"I can, actually," Tony explained, gesturing to Loki's bracelet, "This little thing has a tracker and if you try to leave this tower when you're not supposed to, or try to take it off, we will know pretty much immediately." His smile was proud and just a tad mocking.

A scoff went past Loki's lips. "Lovely," he mumbled.

"I would really like it if you did try to escape, by the way," Tony suggested, rather animatedly, "Gives me an excuse to test my new security system." There was a sly smirk on his lips, he shrugged, "You'd probably survive."

"Tony! Come on," you groaned, shooting him a glare.

The billionaire rolled his eyes; "I'm kidding, relax."

The elevator finally arrived at what would be your new home. A whole floor exclusively for you and Loki—it had been your request, you figured it would be more peaceful this way and you knew Tony had the means and space to make it happen. As the doors slid open the first thing you noticed was the living room, it was big, spacious, and had a massive burgundy couch with a huge TV in front of it; on one side of the living room was your own set of floor-to-ceiling windows along with the double doors that led to the balcony, on the other side was the kitchen, an open concept adjacent to the living room; further into the room were two doors, one beside the other, which you assumed were the bedrooms. Everything had a beautiful modern look and exuded luxury, the least you'd expect from something Tony built.

"Right, I'm dropping you two off here and heading down to the lab," Tony clasped his hands together, then turned to you; "Your room is the one on the right, I'll ask them to drop your things there."

You opened your mouth to speak, but Tony beat you to it; "And the cat, yes."

You stepped out of the elevator and a moment later Loki begrudgingly followed. The god didn't wait for you or spared Tony another glance before walking into the living room, taking in the place, his fingers tracing the velvet of the couch as he looked around.

"Thank you, Tony." You watched Loki for a beat longer before turning back to your friend. "Truly." You smiled softly.

A sigh escaped Tony's lips, his eyes darting to Loki, "Hope he's worth all this drama." Settling his attention back on you, he raised a finger, taking on a serious tone, "If you need anything, if he does anything, you call me, understand?"

"Yes," you reassured him, burying your hands in the pockets of your cardigan. "I will, don't worry."

With that, Tony bid you goodbye for now, and you were left alone with Loki. A soft breeze came in through the open windows, sending a shiver down your spine. Everything had happened so fast, one moment Fury was dragging you out of your apartment to help stop a god who wanted to rule over your planet, and now here you were, being roommates with said god. A quiet chuckle fell past your lips. What are the odds?

"You have a strange kind of courage."

Loki's voice rang through the quiet room, capturing your attention and urging you to turn around and face him. Once you locked eyes, you raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking that he elaborate.

"Or should I say… stupidity," A devilish smirk came to Loki's features, and he took slow and calculated steps toward you. "Locking yourself here, alone, with me." His voice grew huskier, lower. His bright eyes roamed up and down your body, until he was close enough that you could nearly feel his breath on your lips. "Oh, the things I could do to you," he whispered, the daunting tilt of his lips ever-present.

You held the silence for a moment longer, doing your best not to avoid his gaze. You knew what he was trying to do; he wanted to intimidate you, make you feel vulnerable and small. Just as he was feeling right now.

"Aren't we past the bluffing already?" You mimicked his smirk. You could tell he was caught by surprise when his eyebrows knitted together in a confused frown. A quiet laugh escaped you and you rolled your eyes. "Come on, let's go see your room." You didn't wait for an answer before walking around him and towards the two doors at the back.

You turned the door handle that led to what would be Loki's bedroom. It was pretty simple and bare, still. There was a double bed against the wall, a dresser, a desk in front of huge double windows, two bedside tables on each side of the bed with a lamp on one of them, a bookcase without any books, and another door that you assumed led to a bathroom.

"It's cozy," you mused, "Give it a little personal touch it'll soon feel like home, right?" You turned to look at Loki, who had made his way to you and was analyzing the room with narrowed eyes.

Instead of entertaining your attempt at banter, he said instead; "you don't want to challenge me, mortal."

You threw your hands in the air, "Oh my god, when did I ever challenge you?" You asked exasperatedly, losing the remains of patience you had. "Is this all you know how to do? Threaten the people who want to help you?"

"Help me?" Loki all but growled, "Because of you I'm stranded on this pathetic planet, and my magic has been taken from me." He spat the words with clenched fists, towering over you, "Don't think for one minute that I've forgotten how you've messed with my mind, just wait until I've-"

"Because of me you are not rotting in a dungeon forever," you raised your voice to match his tone, shoving a finger at his chest, "Because of me you're free from the people who fucking tortured you."

Loki blinked multiple times as soon as the words left your mouth, almost as if you'd slapped him. His lips hovered open yet he didn't speak.

You softened when you caught the flash of hurt in his eyes as the memories undoubtedly came back to the surface. You closed your eyes, breathed in, and opened them again. "Believe it or not, I actually meant it when I said I only wanted to help you."

A half-hearted scoff went past his lips and he shook his head. "And why would you ever do that? Surely not from the goodness of your heart." For the first time, his voice held something other than anger, you just couldn't pinpoint what it was. "What is it that you're after?"

You shrugged as a melancholic smile graced your lips. It was rather sad that Loki couldn't fathom the thought of help coming without a price. "I don't know, maybe I'm just that stupid, right?" You stepped out of his bedroom, holding the door handle, "I'll be outside if you need me." With that you closed the door, leaving Loki alone in his room.

For several moments he simply stood there, eyes fixed on the plain wood of the door. Then a shaky breath went past his lips, and his shoulders sagged; all anger washed away, leaving room only for sorrow. Slowly, reality finally started to down on him. Loki turned around in the spot, gaze roaming over his new chambers. From out the window, he could see the never-sleeping city of New York, the world he once wished to take over; it felt like so long ago already, a far-fetched attempt at filling the gaping hole left in his chest from empty promises.

A sharp sting of pain suddenly pierced his back, going down his spine as he stretched. He winced, rubbing the sore spot. Telltales of his captor, the one you'd freed his mind from.

You. Why would you do what you did? What could you possibly gain by trying to help him?

You confused him, a mystery ever since Loki first laid eyes on you, one he was yet to uncover. The fact that you had been able to pry into his mind so easily, see glimpses of his misfortunes, made him feel uneasy. And from all the things he assumes you could've done, you chose to cut The Other's hold of him, and nothing more.

Loki would never admit to the relief it had been, almost as if plucking out an arrow that had been piercing his skin and making him bleed. He refrained from dwelling on the matter for now, especially if you'd insist that you wanted nothing from him—unlikely.

He took one step forward, and then another, and one more. And his vision grew blurry. He opened his mouth only for a choked sob to stumble out. He'd never felt this bare, this defenseless, this vulnerable.

Loki raised his hands, fingers trembling. He tried to bring all his energy to his fingertips, gritting his teeth as his tears fell past the bottom lid of his eyes and dropped to the floor beneath his feet. Nothing. Not even a single spark of green.

Loki's knees hit the floor. He brought his arms around himself. His whole life, living amongst kings and warriors, his seiðr was all he had. And now, he doesn't know who he is without it.

He wanted to blame you. He so desperately wanted to lay the blame on you for losing his powers, for his exile on earth. Alas, it was a weak attempt. A lie that would do him no good in the end.

Several minutes went by with Loki kneeling on the floor of his bedroom, fading into the background like many times before. And like many times before, he eventually picked himself back up, drying his own tears with the back of his sleeve, and taking deep breaths to calm his bruised heart.

Loki made a beeline for the bathroom, maybe a warm shower would do him some good.

─── ·❆· ───

You were sitting on the kitchen counter when Loki finally left his bedroom again. Tony had already gotten Happy to bring most of your things from your apartment, your cat included. The fluffy ball of grey fur lay beside you as your fingers mindlessly scratched behind her ears, making her purr contently.

The sound of a door closing made you look up from your cell phone. Loki approached you as if he were a stray cat seeing a human for the first time—you briefly wondered just how long it would take him to feel comfortable here. His hair was damp, falling just a little past his shoulders in shiny raven curls; he still wore the same clothes from before and you made a mental note to ask that Tony arrange more clothes for him.

"Hey," you greeted gently with a small smile, "Did you calm down?"

Loki gave you an unamused glare before averting his gaze to the windows on the other side. "No," he mumbled just for the sake of it.

"I'm ordering a bit of a late lunch," you wiggled your phone even though he wasn't looking at you, "Would you like something?"

Slowly, Loki's eyes trailed back to you. He said nothing as he momentarily held your gaze, before focusing on the cat laying beside you. A rather adorable frown came to his features then.

You noticed. "Loki, this is Rain," you introduced, gesturing to the cat. "Rain, that's Loki," then gestured to the god, "He's gonna be our new roomie."

"That's a strange name for a cat," Loki commented, taking half a step closer to you.

You simply shrugged, "It was raining pretty hard the day I found her on the street, it seemed fitting." A beat of silence passed. "You… can pet her if you want, she's friendly," you suggested timidly, pursing your lips as you looked at him.

Loki's eyes shot back to your face, his stern gaze returning. "No."

You sighed and pushed yourself off the counter, much to Rain's dismay, "Okay, listen, whether you like it or not, this is gonna be your life for the foreseeable future, yeah?" You kept your voice as gentle as you could, "So can we try not to make each day feel more miserable than the last? I mean, you have to admit that this is better than whatever dungeon they were going to throw you in." With a tentative smile, you gestured widely to the whole floor that now belonged to both of you.

Loki kept silent, his jaw set tightly in place.

At last, you admitted defeat and accepted the fact that chit-chat would not be a thing. You groaned; "Just- do you want lunch or not?"

"Of course I want lunch," Loki snapped, "I haven't eaten in nearly two days."

Immediately, your eyes went wide with shock, "You haven't-" You hesitated, "What do you mean you haven't eaten in two days? Didn't they feed you back at the Helicarrier?"

It was a fraction of a second, but you thought you saw Loki's gaze softening at your concern. "Why would they bother?" He simply asked.

You gulped, trying to conceal how this made you feel. "No wonder you're so grumpy," you mumbled in an attempt to lighten the mood. "What would you like, then?"

You quickly discovered that Loki was worse at deciding what to eat than you were. For today you settled for pizza, not exactly healthy, but simple and tasty enough. When it arrived, Loki took his slices and promptly locked himself back in his room. Living with him certainly would be an experience; taking him out to connect with your world, that would be a challenge.

─── ·❆· ───

It almost felt like floating. For a moment, he was almost at peace as he fell, and fell, and fell. And then he was alone, wandering through uncharted, hostile lands. Each day was a battle just to keep breathing, to keep walking. His body was weak and giving up on him when he was found, and then, his voice started fading with each of the screams that no one cared to listen to. His skin burned, ripped open, and healed. Only to go through it again, and again. Until all fight was snuffed out of him.

"You will long for something as sweet as pain."

Loki woke up with a start, sitting up on his bed so quickly that a thousand stars danced in his vision. His breathing came out in desperate huffs of air, making his lungs sting and not nearly enough to calm his thundering heart.

He looked around frantically, feeling his lower lip wobble and his cheeks dampening when he didn't recognize his surroundings immediately. Clutching the sheets to ground himself, Loki closed his eyes and did the breathing exercise he taught himself. Slowly, the fog cleared, yet only a little. And when he opened his eyes again, he remembered why he was in this bedroom.

With a long sigh going past his lips, Loki buried his head in his hands, nails clawing at the root of his hair. He could feel his clothes clinging to his body because of the cold sweat.

He couldn't stay here. He needed to get out.

The floor felt cold against his bare feet, it grounded him to reality. Gulping down a lump in his throat, Loki took staggered steps to his door, reaching the handle with an unsteady hand.

They couldn't keep him here forever, they couldn't expect a damn fancy bracelet to keep him from leaving. He'd break it, cut it off if he had to.

The walls around him were suffocating, closing in on him as he stumbled into the living room. It was so dark, nothing but a void of pitch black with even darker shadows shaping the outlines of the furniture around him. Who was to say no harm would reach him here?

A pathetic whimper fell past his lips, tears clouded his vision. He had to get out. He had to escape. He had to-

"Are you okay?"

Loki halted in his steps. His hand gripping tightly onto the back of the couch.

Quiet. The night suddenly became so quiet. The walls were far away now, he realized. There was a cold breeze coming in through the open doors of the balcony, and a single dim orange light coming from the kitchen beside him, chasing away the darkness. Loki could breathe again.

He took several deep breaths and felt the relief in his lungs. Slowly, he turned his gaze to the right, to where the soft light and the sweet voice came from.

You were standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding a steamy mug between both your hands and looking at him with eyes just a tad too wide. You were dressed in a purple hoodie with black sweatpants. This was the first time Loki had seen you wearing anything that wasn't black, he noted.

A small frown came to your features and you took a single step closer, "Is everything okay?" You repeated when he didn't answer you.

"Yes," Loki mumbled, pointedly avoiding your eyes. "Just needed a bit of air."

You nodded in understanding, taking a small sip of your tea. If you felt the troubles inside his mind, you didn't show it.

It was… strange, how your voice was able to pull him from the depths of his own mind. Loki forced himself not to dwell too much on it. You had successfully distracted him, that's all.

He straightened his posture, feeling a little self-conscious for being witnessed in such a state. "Don't you sleep?" He raised a brow at you, praying you wouldn't notice the rawness of his voice.

You tapped your mug. Your gaze on him was unwavering, almost as if you could see into his very soul. Loki shifted his stance; not for the first time, he felt way too bare before you.

"I could ask the same of you." You walked closer, and then past him, heading towards the balcony.

Loki followed. Thoughts of escaping long forgotten. You intrigued him.

The air outside was colder than the floor beneath his feet. From this high up in the tower, the wind was almost howling. New York looked like nothing but a sea of blinking lights.

You leaned on the railing, mug in hand as you looked down at the city. Loki approached slowly, warily, until he stood beside you.

"Sometimes, even if I don't want to, I can feel… whispers of people's feelings," you continued, voice quiet amidst the wind. "The nights are calmer," You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply, "Quieter. Sometimes I like to enjoy the silence."

For a long moment, Loki said nothing. He blinked lazily as he mulled over your words. He'd be lying if he said your abilities didn't fascinate him. And then, he remembered, and his breathing stumbled again.

He had to know.

"How-" Loki hesitated. He focused down on his hand, on the faint scars on the back of it. "How did you know?" It was nothing but a breath, as if he didn't have the guts to speak louder tonight.

You turned to him, cocking your head to the side.

Loki pursed his lips. "How did you know… My mind was…" He cursed under his breath when the words got stuck and tangled in his tongue.

"I felt it." You told him simply, your voice as soft as satin. "When they first brought you in, I- I felt this… heaviness, like something wasn't quite right…"

Loki chanced a single glance towards you, only to find your eyes already focused on him. They were shining under the moonlight, "Like it was hurting you."

You spoke as if it was a secret, one you weren't sure was yours to keep.

Loki sneered. He avoided your gaze promptly, knuckles turning white with the force he gripped onto the railings.

"You're ridiculous," the words fell past Loki's lips before he could stop them. They were all he had to protect himself. "Why would you ever go against your peers to help someone like me? When I've threatened your life and killed your kind?" Yet now, he didn't know if he was saying them to mock you, or to punish himself.

"I don't believe you're truly bad," You confessed without an ounce of doubt or anger, voice steady and gentle as the cold wind.

Loki's gaze found yours again, and he couldn't recall if anyone had ever looked at him the way that you do.

Your smile didn't hold happiness; "You have sad eyes."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Ch 4 coming soon.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

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[quilly72]

Meg woke up from her one night stand brushing her hair to the side as she slipped off the bed. She stumbled into the bathroom as she slowly woke up. Splashing some water across her face to speed up the process as she shot back.

"where the fuck did those come from"

She stared at her cleavage. Barely fitting in her already large loose bra. She heffted each cup in one hand weighing them. She twirled for the mirror. Her butt perkier and a bit more round. Her legs a tad but longer and slender. Her torso seemingly strectched.

"am I... Taller?"

Meg continued looking herself in the mirror as she filed through the cabinet below. Finding a take measure as she sprawled it out across the wall.*hic* she bounced in place as her bra strained against her. "Notthe time for this" she muttered as she held her breath trying to get rid of them.

She finished sprawling the measuring tape as she leaned against it marking her height on the wall.

5'3" " that's impossible I was 5'0" even like a month ago. I stopped growing like 7 years ago*hic*

She jumped again. Her legs wobbling under her as she strectched up. Her bra dug into her skin. Meg watched herself in the mirror. "Did her boobs just. Swell"

She heffted them again. They seems heavier almost larger rounder. Her ass did too. Her shoulders be f down as the straps increased their weight. Digging and turning her skin red as her boobs grew heavier.

She leaned against the tape again marking her height a second time. "5'5" that's not possible I shouldn't be*hic*

She shot up again. Her eyes watching as the 5'5" mark lowered in her vision. She dropped the tape measure as it swung and flipped around the room. Whacking the wall with it's whip. She launched back as it whipped towards her. Her body crashing into the cabinet behind her. She regained her balance as she felt another hiccup press up.

She held her breath as it built it's pressure in her. Her face turning red from it as she strained. Her arms clutched the counter top as she dug her feet into the ground. Her face wrinkling from the pressure. As her vision tunneled she gasped.

*HIC*

She shot up several inches. Her bra popped off as she noticed her panties grow thin. Her ass swelling behind her.

"this isn't possible this can't be happening" *hic*

Her panties snapped off of her as she lurched another couple inches up. Her naval pushing above the counter top as her legs wobbled upwards. Her knees shaking.*hic*

She spurted up again. Her head soaring up higher. "She touched her cleavage as it swelled even larger." How do i stop how is this even happening"

"it's speeding up" she held her breath as another one built up she stared in the mirror as it built up higher and higher.*HICC* she yelped as her face grew over the mirror. Her cleavage at the top of it. "It's not working I cant stop. I need help I need to get out of here. I don't even know how tall I am. She raced to the door as she hiccuped again.

Her head growing above the doorframe as she practically ripped the door off it's hinges. She turned to run through as her head hit the top of the frame. Bending forward as she struggled throughthe tin passage way. As she stood back up on the other side she hiccuped again. Her head bashing I to the ceiling. She rubbed her head as she grew wide eyed.

Her one night stand easily 2-3 ft taller. His shorts ripped off his body in to the bed. His legs sprawling over the edge of the bed. His erection sitting 2 ft long.

He groaned and sputtered as he masturbated in front of her.

"it burns I can't*hic"*stop. . He sprouted up another couple inches his head hitting the headboard bending it into the wall. His dick sprouting up another half a foot.

She stood mouth agape as he continued to pleasure himself. "Stop you need to stop we have bigger problems.*hic*

Meg fell to her knees as her neck bent at the ceiling. The discomfort becoming too much. She leaned forward as his legs grew out to either side of her with another hiccup. He slowed down and eventually stopped masturbating as she calmed him.

His dick thrashing and twitching on its own as he groaned. The bed creaking under his weight.

"we need to get out of *hic* here" she sprouted up larger her head looming I to the ceiling again. She opted to fall forward as her head tried to dentthe roof. Her arms falling onto the bed as it cracked under their weight. Her boobs swinging forward on to his legs as she leaned over his dick.

*hic* he surged again. His legs growing down to her knees from her knelt position. His dick surging closer to her face as they stared at each other. It still twitched as he strained. "I'm sorry I can't control it especially not with you like this in front of m."

*hic"

She had lost focus she hiccuped again as she sprouted larger. Her back hitting the ceiling. Her feet hitting the walk behind her. Her butt tickling the drywall behind her as well. Her head zoomed up to his. Her cleavage swinging forward covering his dick as it buried in her cleavage. Hestrained and groaned as she felt him twitch.

"don't not know"

*hic*

He instead opted for growing. His head bent at the wall. His eyes staring right into her cleave. His dick growing in her as he felt the tip of his head push up against her ribcage. He grabbed the carpet as he started to lose himself to passion. His eyes clasping shut as he strained.

His dick thrashed and twitched as she felt a bit of precum drill out. "Don't think about just calm down we will figure this*hic... Out" she whimpered.

Meg swelled forward. Her boobs pinning his pelvis down smashing and smooshing his dick. Her boobs twitching and swelling around it. Her head hit the wall her feet cracking and speeding through the broken bathroom wall. Her movement causing her boobs to swing and jiggle as she felt him losethe battle.

His cum shooting up inside her cleavage as he hiccuped again."sorry he muttered as he curled up under her to fit. Their bodies fighting for room I. The cramped space.

Meg shook and spasmed. "Something wrong something happenIng *HICC HICC HICC*

She shot out of the house. Her cleavage swelling over him as he was lost under her. She sprang up. Eventually standing up as the house credaroh her. She stepped outside ofthewre large eventually finding his body half her size barely breathing.*hic* she lurched up again. 'fucking last time I go to a one night stand" she muttered as she approached 75 ft tall.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Little fairy tale castle built in 1976 in Lafayette, PA was the height of style in the 70s, but it's very dated, now. IMO, the 70s were a pretty tacky period in decor. They're asking $1.16M for the 4bd, 5ba home. What do you think?

I prefer gryphons to the common lion statues.

The entrance hall is grand and has elements of English Tudor style, as well as castle. I like the way the lamps simulate torches and the ceiling with the medieval chandelier is amazing. Plus, the sweeping stairs and tile floors look good. I would want to repaint it, but it would take $ to brighten this up.

Love the iron gate to the sitting room. The home has the elements of a large castle and it's beautifully done.

The sitting room is elegant with 2 steps down to the sunken space.

Beautiful fireplace and windows, all on a smaller scale. Love the wood ceiling and chandelier, too.

Very large dining room. Nice chandelier, but no wainscoting or fireplace, plain ceiling.

This is where we get into the 70s style. The colors were orange, green and yellowish gold. So, the kitchen has the original dark cabinetry, there's the orange hood w/a royal crest over the cook top and cool orange sinks. The brown & orange tile floor ties it in.

They changed out the counters b/c they're granite. You can see the stained glass cabinet doors and decorative panels on the fridge. I think I would put one of those Knight statues in here with a tray, so he looks like a butler or something campy like that. d

Large casual dining area is nice. It has a whole wall fireplace. I actually like this space better than the formal dining room. Note the little dragons on the medieval chandelier.

Very dated and original wallpaper and lighting. You can either embrace this home, and just brighten it up a little, or renovate it.

Check out the original avocado toilet and sink.

Now up on the 2nd level, we have a rec room with window seats, on one side. By the looks of the overhead fixture, there was a pool table in here.

On this side of the rail, step down to the sunken bar area, the epitome of 70s entertaining. You've got a stone fireplace area for guests to gather, and a wet bar with the decorative panels and popular plaid wallpaper. Plus, note that there's also a stepdown to the sunken bar.

This is the door to the primary chamber.

They emptied it, but it's royal purple and spacious. There's also a small fireplace and closets with mirrors. I tried to get tinted mirror strips off my wall when I had the house- they were on the sides of a stone fireplace and would not budge. I finally covered them w/simulated stained glass.

Across a small purple hallway is the primary bath.

Variety of fixtures- funky black tub, orange sink, black toilet and bidet. It looks like everything has its own room, too.

Now, this suite has a purple theme.

Check out the 3 pc. bath. I'm colorblind when it comes to distinguishing gray and orchid. Is the sink purple?

Very large attic for lots of storage.

There's a beautiful free-form pool outside.

The grounds are very pretty.

.79 acre lot, beautifully landscaped.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/4127-Presidential-Dr-Lafayette-Hill-PA-19444/10072422_zpid/

[icrypop]

In the quiet

ROTTMNT Leo

Sleepy! Leo x GN! Reader

Fluff/Character comfort

This takes place after the events of the Kraang invasion. Idk why but TMNT been a recent hype fixation (I blame Chaos), and I've just been wanting to write for it until I start getting requests! Much Love!

-Writer Icy<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of distant explosions echoed through Leo's mind as he tossed and turned in his sleep. The Kraang invasion replayed vividly in his nightmare: the city in ruins, his brothers fighting valiantly but being overwhelmed, the despair that had clawed at his heart. Raph being taken and Kraang possessed, Donnie's broken battle shell, Mikey's tears- He jolted awake, gasping for breath, his chest heaving with the remnants of panic. It felt real.

For a moment, Leo lay still, staring at the ceiling of his room, trying to shake off the nightmare. The familiar surroundings did little to comfort him, and the images of the invasion lingered in the corners of his mind. Deciding he needed a distraction, he quietly slipped out of bed and made his way to the kitchen.

The apartment was silent, having stayed with his s/o for the night, the only sound being the gentle hum of the refrigerator. Leo flicked on the coffee maker, watching as it gurgled to life, the rich aroma of brewing coffee filling the air. He leaned against the counter, rubbing his eyes, trying to shake off the residual fear.

As he poured himself a cup, he heard soft footsteps approaching. He turned to see his s/o, their hair slightly tousled from sleep, padding out of his room. They gave him a sleepy smile before wrapping their arms around him from behind, resting their head against his shell.

"Leo, what are you doing up?" Y/n murmured, their voice soft and concerned.

He forced a smile, trying to play it off. "Just couldn't sleep. Figured I'd make some coffee."

They didn't buy it. They never did. With a gentle but firm tug, y/n pulled him away from the counter, guiding him back to the living room. They sat down on the couch, patting the spot beside them. "Come on, talk to me."

Reluctantly, Leo sat down, his shoulders slumping. Y/n rubbed his shell comfortingly, their touch soothing the tension that had built up in his muscles. "Was it a nightmare?" they asked, their voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. Y/n continued to rub his shell, their touch grounding him, bringing him back to the present. "The Kraang invasion," he finally admitted, his voice hoarse. "I keep seeing it... hearing it."

Y/n pulled him closer, letting him rest his head on their shoulder. "You don't have to go through this alone, Leo. I'm here for you."

He sighed, the weight of the nightmare beginning to lift as he felt their warmth, their steady presence. "It's just... it was so real. I thought we were going to lose everything."

"But you didn't," Y/n reminded him gently. "You and your brothers fought back. You saved the city. You saved each other."

He nodded again, feeling a bit more at ease. "I know. It's just hard to forget."

Y/n held him tighter, their hand still rubbing soothing circles on his shell. "I understand. But you don't have to carry this burden by yourself. We're a team, remember?"

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah, we are."

Y/n kissed the top of his head before leaning back, coaxing him to lie down with them on the couch. "Let's try to get some more sleep, okay? We'll face whatever comes next together."

As he nestled against them, feeling their heartbeat steady and strong beneath his cheek, the remnants of the nightmare finally began to fade. Their presence was a balm to his troubled mind, and he let himself relax, the tension melting away.

With their gentle touch and reassuring words, Leo found himself drifting back to sleep, the nightmare banished by the warmth and love of the one who held him close.