#drama dots is the perfect name

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

DRAMA DOTS

The Autistic Teacher

[hopesworlld]

౨ৎ oh ! dear diary, i met a boy !

౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — step!bro anakin x fem!reader

౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — your stepbrother anakin finds your diary full of all your dirty little secrets

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 6k

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, stepcest, smut ( masturbation f and m, oral sex f and m, vibrator, degradation, praise, use of the term slut/little slut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, overstimulation ) i think that’s all !

౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — someone call the psych ward immediately !

part two part three masterlist

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anakin groaned in annoyance as he stormed up the steps at his mothers command asking him to fetch his stepsister for some reason or another. he barged into your bedroom not bothering to knock, he always liked seeing you jump, sometimes you were on your bed, phone dropping from your hands as your lips parted in surprise. other times you were perched at your vanity catching his eye in the mirror with horrified delight. but his favourite would always be when he entered your room to find you clad in nothing but a pair of white panties. your face had been painted crimson, eyes clutching your breasts but he could still see your rosy nipples peeking beneath your manicured nails, pert from the cold winter air.

but this time, much to his disappointment he found the room empty, your fairlights glittered along the ceiling and the pink lamp beside your bed cast light on the little book had seen you clutching to your chest every so often, it was hot pink and dotted with stickers of various celebrities that he despised. you had always been protective of it, even your father had once gained a slap to the hand when he tried to touch your book. so anakin knew he had no choice, he slowly entered the room further, noting the sound of rushing water from the bathroom. perfect.

he crossed your room in a matter of seconds and scooped up the book, flicking through a couple pages, the first few he saw held nothing of interest and he skimmed through. there were no dates but he could tell they were from before your father and shmi had bought the house and blended your family, he read a few sentences of you complaining about school, and friend drama and almost called it a bust. his innocent priss of a stepsister was the same in her diary as she was every day. that was until he skipped ahead and found his name appearing. with new found interest he settled down on your bed.

/ anakin came back from college today and he actually looked happy to see me, or he smiled when he got out of the car which is a first. i wish he would smile more, he looks so pretty when he smiles.

anakin scoffed at this, rolling his eyes, this had only been a few weeks ago and he had been laughing at a text just moments before, but of course you would think he was happy to see you. you always greeted him the same, glossy lips twisted in a saccharine smile as you bounced on the balls of your feet, begging for an ounce of attention from him. it was ridiculous, but he had to know more.

/ anakin is fixing up dad’s old car in the driveway so that he can use it, i’ve never been so happy for my father’s hoarding tendencies in my life. i was sat at my window for two hours today watching him. he was wearing that black wife beater, the one that makes his arms look even bigger than usual, so muscly and strong. i wonder what it would feel like for him to pick me up, and feel his muscles against my back, they look so good when they’re tensed. he was so sweaty too, i wanted to run out there and lick it from his skin, how disgusting but wow, i wish i took a picture of him like that. soaked in sweat and oil.

anakin’s jaw was agape, his sweet innocent stepsister wasn’t such an angel as he once thought. his dick twitched beneath his sweatpants at the thought of you perched on your window seat with a perfect view of him working rubbing your thighs together, desperate for his touch, his taste. it was taboo, disgusting, your parents were married and here you were writing dirty little fantasies. he loved it. addicted to the words you had spilled across the page in pretty gel pens.

/ dad asked me why i was so distracted today at dinner, how could i not be? anakin came down in just shorts and i swear i could see everything, he’s bigger than i imagined, i probably wouldn’t even be able to fit my hand around it, but ellen said boys like that. i wonder what it looks like, i’ve only ever seen them in porn. anakin didn’t even notice anything was off with me, didn’t notice me staring. i wish he would.

“fuck,” anakin hissed, his dick was now almost fully hard and throbbing. who knew you were such a slut, fantasising about his cock at the dinner table. if he had known… god he wanted to fucking ruin you. show you how to take his dick, watch as you choked and cried around it as he forced it past your swollen lips. he wanted to paint you in his cum and not stop until you were a shaking writhing mess. he knew you were hot, had thought it the second he saw you, your hair in braids clad in ivory like some kind of fallen angel but had pushed it away, you were his stepsister for fuck sake, but now…

/ he walked in on me changing today, i was only in my underwear and he laughed, but i caught him staring at my boobs, i made sure not to cover them properly and it worked. i got so wet, i don’t think i’ve ever come so hard before. i wanted him to do something, walk over to me and rip my hands away, push me on the bed and fuck me till i saw stars, but instead i just had to use my vibrator. sometimes i wish he could hear me moaning through the wall, maybe he can.

“little fucking slut,” anakin said to himself as he glanced across the page, hand cupping his rock hard cock through his trousers, your words were depraved, desperate. maybe he should walk into the bathroom right now and take you like you were so desperate for, you would have no trouble spreading your legs for him, would probably beg for it, do anything he asked. his perfect little fuck toy. he couldn’t help himself anymore, spitting on his hand and slipping it down his trousers tugging at his cock as he continued to read.

/ i bought a dildo today from ann summers but i’m scared, my fingers are so small compared to it, the woman said it was about average but wow. no matter how much prep i do it hurts. i bet anakin would feel better, the silicon is so hard and cold. i wore one of his t-shirts it smells like him, that helped a little but it’s not the same, i’ve heard his stories when he talks to his friends about the girls he’s fucked. he knows what he’s doing, i wonder how he would take me, on my back nice and slow, or pound into me from behind while i screamed. maybe he would call me angel like he does sometimes, i wish. now my arm just hurts so i’m here alone in my bed playing with my clit wishing it was him.

anakin jerked against his hand at the last sentence, he had never cum this quickly before, but your words had him loosing his shit, he couldn’t even imagine what else you thought if this was only what you choose to write down, what other dirty secrets lurked beneath that pretty facade of pink and glitter. the next page held a collection of polaroids you had taken of him, some from the window as he worked on his car, skin sheened in sweat and oil, shirtless as he drank a bottle of water. another of him laying on the sofa arm resting behind his head a can of beer in hand, and the last was him glaring at the camera. he remembered this one, he had demanded you rip it up, but here it was immortalized with pink and purple hearts surrounding it. but the next page was from today.

/ anakin came home from playing baseball with his friends about an hour ago, he was gross, sweaty and loud after hours with his friends. he slid past me in the kitchen his hands on my hips for just a second i wish he would have bent me over the counter and fucked me there and then. i would have let him, dad was in the living room but i don’t care, god, he’s ruined me. all i can think about is him, his cock, his hands, his lips. i need him. i’m gonna go shower, i was meant to help shmi with dinner but i couldn’t, not when i was soaking through my panties while stood next to her fantasising about her son.

“oh fuck,” anakin hissed as he came into his fist, cum coating his boxers and knuckles. you were insane, and maybe so was he for getting so worked up but he knew he couldn’t hold back now, he had seen those words and there was no going back. a bit shakily he stood from the bed wiping his hands on his sweatpants and grabbing the sparkly pen from your desk and decided to leave a little note of his own in your dirty little diary.

/ who knew you were such a dirty little slut, angel girl

and with that he left your bedroom, cum drying on his boxers, he could only hope you found his note sooner rather than later.

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after your shower you felt a lot better, you had turned the water considerably cooler than usual and taken some deep breaths you had learned from yoga, pushing anakin far from your mind, you let the ritual of getting redressed soothe your mind, slipping into a soft matching set of white shorts and a crop top, leaving your hair loose and applying your skin care. you almost felt like yourself, untainted by the dirty thoughts that seemed perpetually in your mind.

you wished it would stop, you hated yourself for it, your father was finally happy after years of thinking he would never find love again after your mother had passed. if he knew what you were thinking he would be disgusted, he would probably send you off to your aunt to protect anakin and shmi from your sick mind, the thought made your stomach hurt. you wanted to stop you really did, but then you would see him and all those dirty thoughts would slip back in, he was haunting you.

you headed downstairs, an airpod pressed in one ear hoping some music would soothe your guilty mind, finding shmi in the kitchen. the woman smiled in relief when she saw you.

“there you are, i sent ani up to get you half an hour ago,” she said a little flustered and instantly your heart dropped, you didn’t know why she was upset but she had needed you. you hated upsetting people, ‘always a people pleaser’ your mother had used to scold you fondly.

“i’m so sorry, anakin never told me,” you said truthfully and the woman sighed before laughing begrudgingly.

“my son has many talents, listening has never been one of them,” she said with a fond smile before turning back to the stove, “i’m making your dad that soup he loves so much but this recipe seems wrong, think you could help me out?” she requested holding out a sheet of paper to you and you took it immediately, nodding happily.

“of course,” you beamed, “well firstly it’s chicken stock not vegetable stock,” you informed her, “and secondly use heavy cream instead of milk, he likes the taste more. but other than that it seems perfect”

“really?” she asks you, face a little tight.

“yep, we always make it a little different depending on what we have but you have got this down to a t now i would say, and dads gonna love it,” you said and shmi finally smiled again, you hated when she frowned, it made her seem much older, an echo of the struggling woman she had once been and she didn’t deserve that, she never did.

“want to stay and help me make it?” she asked and you accepted. the pair of you worked in tandem, and soon you had a delicious pot of soup bubbling on the stove ready to be served along with homemade grilled cheese.

“okay, i’m gonna go grab your dad from the den do you mind getting, ani,” shmi asked and you agreed despite yourself, bounding out of the kitchen and up the stairs to anakin’s room, knocking once, then twice and then three times before you finally got a response.

“come in,” he called out, so you swung the door open, expecting a scowl or a blank stare but instead he was smirking widely at you, as though he knew something you didn’t and it made your skin crawl. “oh, hey, angel,” he greeted. fuck.

“dinners ready,” you told him, proud that you managed to keep your voice steady and his face dropped a little bit before his smile suddenly widened again.

“and you came to get me?” he asked teasingly, your stomach tightened, twisting into a ball and sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. he was going to kill you.

“your mum asked me to,” you say shortly, spinning around and walking away, taking a deep breath as you did so. stupid, stupid, stupid…

“angel,” anakin said again, and that name was going to send you into overdrive, a flush growing on your cheeks. “not gonna wait for me? that’s not very nice,” he complained and you shook your head.

“are you high?” you asked him as you reached the landing but anakin grabbed your wrist stopping you from heading down the steps.

“what makes you say that?” he asked you, drawing closer to you so that your faces were only inches apart, you could feel his hot breath fanning on your cheeks, see deep into his eyes, so pretty and blue beneath the crystalline lights above.

“your acting strange,” you pointed out with a frown, anakin was never nice to you, he was cordial sometimes, blunt others and sometimes he was simply rude, but never this. never teasing and friendly and chasing you down through the halls of your home to chat. it was as unnerving as it was utterly addictive.

“i just learned something new today, something that’s changed my perspective a little bit,” he crooned, hand coming up and resting on the wall beside your head, you blinked at him. what the fuck?

“what did you learn?” you asked him curiously and anakin grinned, a beautiful blinding thing that took your breath away.

“you’ll see,” was all he said before withdrawing from you and heading down the steps leaving you flabbergasted where you stood, heart racing and core throbbing. “come on, angel, don’t wanna be late for dinner,” he called up to you and you followed soundlessly, wondering if you had accidentally fallen into a different dimension while in the shower.

dinner was normal, or as normal is it could be with anakin acting so out of character, he was chatting like he hadn’t seen anyone in years, some kind of newfound zest for life that even had his mother seemed confused about but accepted with open arms. it was nice to see anakin talking, usually, he would mutter a few words before disappearing back to his room.

“yea, i was thinking of working at the garage next term to get a little extra cash, you know where you’re going to colleague next year, angel?” anakin asked, you looked over at him a little wide-eyed at the nickname in front of your parents, but glancing at them you saw that they both seemed… pleased.

“um, i have a few options actually, still not sure,” you murmured, still lost in what was happening, but it was making your head spin.

“she’s been looking at your school a bit,” your dad cut in, “it’s got a great program for what she wants to study,”

“oh really? maybe i could set something up for you, or maybe just give you a show around of the school next term, let you see what it’s really about,” anakin suggested with a smile and shmi beamed.

“oh that's a lovely idea, ani dear,” she exclaimed, “what do you think, sweetheart?” she asked her eyes darting to you and you pulled your lips into a smile.

“yea that sounds great,” you agreed, glancing back at anakin who sent you a wink. you almost groaned, rubbing your thighs together, you thought anakin being mean to you was enough to send you spiraling, spilling dirty fantasies into your book but him being nice was going to send you into a whirl of delusions that were going to be detrimental to your mental health if it continued.

once dinner was finished you rushed to your room, ready to spill your guts into your diary, you grabbed it from your bedside table and flicked to the next open page, your heart dropping to your stomach when you saw the words scrawled on the page.

\ who knew you were such a dirty little slut, angel girl

“oh my god,” you whispered to yourself, tossing the book down onto the bed, horror-struck. you knew that handwriting, had seen it many times before and now here it was taunting you in a book full of your sick twisted fantasies that all featured him. you felt nauseous, bile rising in your throat, is this why he was so happy, some sort of twisted revenge? had he taken pictures of it? did he plan on showing your dad? “this can’t be happening,” you whispered to yourself.

“i see you found my note,” a cocky voice echoed from behind you, you span around, lips trembling and anakin’s brows furrowed slightly.

“please don’t tell my dad, i’m so sorry anakin. i know it’s wrong and disgusting but please he will never forgive me if i ruin this for him, he loves your mum so much and i…” the world were tumbling from your lips so quickly you could hardly process them, not even noting as anakin shut the door behind him and crossed the room so that he was stood before you, “i’m sorry,” you practically wailed, “you were never supposed to see that, it was just somewhere to put down my thoughts,” tears were streaming down your cheeks now, “please don’t hate me,”

“you gonna be quiet now?” anakin asked you once you finally stopped rambling and you nodded through sniffles, vision blurred by your tears. “good,” he whispered, reaching up and cupping your cheek, “i’m not gonna tell your dad, angel,” he said soothingly, “not when i know how much fun we can have now,” anakin said with a smile.

“what… what are you saying?” you asked him. this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening right now. no way.

“i’m saying, that i wanna see just how dirty you can be, angel,” he cooed, “i wanna know the darkest parts of that fucked up little mind of yours,” your breathing hitched, raising your hands to wipe the tears from your ruddy cheeks and staring at him in disbelief.

“anakin…” you whispered, “this is wrong,”

“oh i know that, baby, but it didn’t stop you from burying your fingers into your cunt and imagining it was me. from laying in bed only a room away from me and moaning my name while you tried to use a dildo on yourself wishing it was me,” he hummed, “and what was it that you wrote earlier? that you were picturing me bending you over with your dad in the next room, that you couldn’t be with my mother in the kitchen because you were dripping down your thighs thinking about me,”

“oh fuck,” you moaned, hearing him depict your fantasies, the things you had said were driving you wild, something stirring within you, it set your veins alight with molten flames, spreading through your body and stirring your aching cunt, you could feel your arousal flooding your panties, sticky and wet, you didn’t know what to do, what to think but you needed him, more than you had ever needed anything in your life.

“that’s it, angel, i wanna hear every pretty sound you can make fall from your pretty lips,” anakin prompted, one hand falling to your hips and pulling you in so that your flush was pressed against him another moan falling from your lips when you felt his half hard cock press against your stomach. “what is it you want, tell me, what dirty secret are we sharing tonight?” he asked you.

“kiss me, just kiss me please,” you begged, and anakin obliged crashing his lips to yours, it was messy, all teeth and tongue and spit. immediately he was diving in, tongue prying through your lips and plunging into your mouth, he tasted of smoke, mint and sugar and instantly you were addicted. your hands rose to his shoulders, tugging him closer you wanted to feel every part of him. your hands tugged at his t-shirt wanting to taste his skin, to see him everywhere.

“so eager, baby,” he muttered against your lips before reaching behind him, tugging his t-shirt over his head revealing the planes of his chest and his toned stomach to your awaiting eyes, you had seen him shirtless many times before, but now you could touch him. “take what you want,” he grinned and you did just that, fingers dipping into every crevice, you explored him as though one would a fine piece of art you wanted to memorise the feeling of his skin, the taste, you hardly thought twice before leaning down and kissing the middle of his chest, running your tongue along the unblemished skin, moaning at the taste of salt and skin. “god,” the boy murmured, reaching down and grasping your hair, yanking your head back harshly, “take my sweatpants off,” he commanded and you were not one to disobey, not now, not when you had him.

you wrapped your hands around the waist band and tugged, gasping when his dick sprung free, unrestrained by any boxers beneath, he was already hard, really hard, his cock flushed a deep red, the tip weeping milky precum and gods were you right, he was big, long and thick, far bigger than the dildo you had purchased. you salivated at the sight.

“can i…” you whispered, slowly trailing off, a wave of embarrassment washing over you.

“tell me what you want, angel, this is your dirty little dream, i’m just helping make it come true,” anakin said and you nodded, taking a deep breath.

“wanna taste you, ani, can i?” you asked him gently, batting your lashes at him and the boy hissed through his teeth, jaw clenching in a way that made your entire body sing.

“fuck me, go ahead, pretty girl, show me what that mouth is actually good for,” his words were disgusting, a sick way of calling your words worthless and it made you go fucking feral, you sank to your knees, eyeing his cock a little unsurely before carefully wrapping a hand around his thick length, anakin groaned, watching you, eyes alight with interest.

“look at that you were right,” he told you, “your hand can’t even fit around it,” he said, and you shuddered, ingjerking your hand slightly, letting itit glide along the velvety skin of his cock, admiring it, and the sound he made was worth it, so much so that you leaned in, licking a stripe along the side of his cock, stopping once you reached the tip and suckling it gently. a.nakin’s hands fell to your hair gripping it, but not forcing you, he was letting you explore first, you bobbed you head, sinking deeper on his cock, the sensation was strange but not unpleasant. so you took him deeper, the salty taste of him drawing you in further, you pulled back, sucking in a deep breath before taking him deeper until it hit the back of your throat. you were hardly halfway down his cock, so you tried again this time more forcefully, choking when his cockhead rammed into the back of your throat.

“easy, baby,” anakin cooed, pulling you off of his cock, you looked up at him with glossy eyes, spit spilling down your chin.

“you’re so big,” you whined at him accusingly making the boy laugh, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“poor little slut, so desperate for cock but has no clue what she’s doing,” he patronised, thumb trailing down and hooking in your mouth, parting your lips for him, you let your mouth fall open. “gotta take it slow, you aren’t gonna take it all the first time, okay? probably not for a few times, gotta train that throat of yours to take cock, huh?” he asked and you nodded at him, unable to speak with his thumb in you mouth. “try again, huh,” he prompted and you nodded eagerly, this time letting anakin guide your mouth to his awaiting cock, you followed his instructions going slower this time, starting at just the tip suckling it, savoring the taste of his salty cum in your mouth but eventually anakin began to push you further with a groan. you swallowed around him, trying to remember to breathe with the heavy weight on your tongue, your mouth felt stretched, lips stinging, and jaw aching but you couldn’t stop. you needed this, needed him to cum, to know he was enjoying this as much as you were.

“good girl, that’s it,” anakin praised you and you preened, moaning around his cock and making the boy chuckle, “oh you like that, huh, pretty girl? wanna be my good girl?” you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak so instead you locked your eyes with his and this time it was anakin’s turn to moan. “you look so fucking sexy like this, should have known you made for it,” you bobbed your head faster in agreement, it felt wrong to agree, to accept that you were just some sort of object that was made to take dick and love it, but you couldn't argue. not now when you had tasted his cock and you knew you would never be the same again, this was it for you, a springboard into a world that would drive you insane.

“you keep going i’m gonna cum, you ready for that, angel?” he asked you, but you didn’t respond, only forcing him deeper, spluttering slightly but you didn’t pull back, instead taking a settling breath through your nose, spit was dripping down your chin, tears streaming but you couldn’t stop, continuing to choke on his cock, only pulling away when you absolutely had too and it was barley for a few seconds before you were on him again. it was only about a minute before anakin’s hips began to twitch, his cock heavier in your mouth.

 “i’m gonna cum, fuck, baby pull back a little you don’t wanna choke,” he prompted and you did as you were told. lips suctioned around his tip, using your hand to jerk off the rest of his cock and with that, he was cumming down your throat in thick hot spurts. it was disorientating and everything you had ever dreamed of. you swallowed as much as you could of the salty liquid, but some escaped the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin and onto your plush carpet, you kept suckling until anakin pulled you away, his lips parted and cheeks flushed.

“that was…” he trailed off voice hoarse, “you did such a good job, angel,” he cooed, reaching out and helping you stand up, your knees ached and you felt a little shaky but you couldn't ignore the heat in your core and the sopping wetness between your legs.

“i liked it,” you said bashfully, voice scratchy.

“of course you did,” anakin mocked lightly but there was no malice behind his words, instead he reached down and grabbed his shirt using it to mop your cheeks and mouth, “come on i wanna try something,” he said, grabbing you hand and leading you over to your bed, “lay down, pretty girl,”

“what are you doing?” you asked him softly and he grinned.

“just lay down, okay, i’m gonna do the work for a bit,” he said, so you followed instruction and laid down on the bed, looking up at him with such innocent trust that it made his heart stutter slightly, “i’m gonna take your top off okay?” he said, climbing onto the bed with you and hovering over you, his legs stradling either side of your hips, he looked so big like this, tall and strong, body on show as he looked down at you.

“okay,” you agreed, letting anakin tug the crop top from your body leaving your chest bare to him.

“been waiting a while to see these again,” he murmured, finger pinching your nipple lightly, you gasped, jolting upwards at the sensation and anakin laughed, “sensitive girl,” he teased, pinching your other nipple, using his body to keep you pinned to the bed. “what was it you said in that dirty little book when i saw your tits for the first time?” he asked you, “hm, let’s have a look shall we?” he said grabbing the book from where it lay only a few inches away from you. your cheeks lit up in shame, shaking your head.

“ani, no,” you pleaded with him but the boy shot you a harsh stare.

“what was that, baby?” he questioned, tone stern, “i thought you wanted this? want me to leave you to deal with this alone like you always do, seeing my cock should do you a good couple months, and you even got to taste it,”

“don’t leave” you begged, “i’m just embarrassed,” you whimper, this brought the smile back to anakin’s face.

“you don’t need to be embarrassed, pretty girl, without this little thing you would probably still be downstairs watching tv with your dad trying not to think about me, isn’t that right?” he asked, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your swollen lips.

“yes,” you said quietly, “just don’t be mean, i really… i needed you. i need you,”

“oh, baby, but you like it when i’m a little mean don’t you?” he snickered, “but back to what i was saying, where is it?” he asked flicking through the pages of the book before he found what he was looking for, “ah, here it is. you wanted me to push you onto this bed and fuck you till you saw stars,” you whimper at this, “and look how proud you were that you caught me staring at your tits,” he grinned, “pretty things aren’t they,” he leaned down, capturing your right nipple between his teeth, nibbling slightly before sucking it into his mouth. the sensation was too much, you gasped, trying to jerk against him but anakin was too strong, he bit down on your nipple, a warning before soothing it with his tongue, moving and doing the same to the other one until you were a panting mess.

“good girl,” he praised, “now this wasn’t what i wanted to do actually, just had to get a taste,” he told you with a wink and you blinked at him stunned. “where do you keep your vibrator, angel?” anakin questioned you.

“um, my bedside draw,” you murmured and anakin nodded, leaning over and opening up and pulling out your pretty pink vibrator.

“cute,” he said, “now, baby, i want to see you use this, okay? wanna know what you look like when you are playing with yourself and thinking about me,” he crooned.

“ani, i’m… fuck okay,” you said reaching out and taking the vibrator from him, anakin climbed off of you and you immediately missed the weight of him atop of you but ignored it was you yanked your shorts and panties down, revealing your throbbing pussy to anakin, the boy groaning in apprecation.

“holy shit, you’re fucking soaked, angel,” he crooned, “look at your clit, all puffy and red. all from sucking my cock?” anakin asked and you nodded, cheeks crimson. “you are a dream, pretty girl,” your clit pulsed at his words and quickly you pressed your vibrator to it before switching it on. your body writhed at the contact, you had been desperate for this for what felt like hours, every inch of your being aching for relief as you trailed the toy down, soaking it in your wetness before bringing it back to your clit, moaning at the feeling.

“fuck, anakin, feels so good” you cried out, tilting your head to look at him and seeing him gazing at your pussy in awe.

“i bet it does, angel, you were so sore, so desperate for this,” he said, reaching out and trailing a finger along your dripping slit, your hips jerked, heart pounding, “gonna come that quick, fuck, do it, baby,” he prompted. you pressed the toy harder to your clit gasping and crying out, the sight of anakin before you, the months of waiting, wanting, it all built up and before you could even react the coil in your stomach snapped and you came with a sharp moan, the vibrator still pressed to your cunt as you twitched through the aftershocks of your orgasm. then you felt it, something wet and warm trailing through your fold, you looked down to see anakin now lying between your legs, his tongue buried in your cunt.

“ani” you sobbed, switching the vibrator off and tossing it to the side, anakin taking this as his chance to wrap is lips around your clit and suck. you all but screamed, still strumming with pleasure and overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth on you, it was hypnotic.

“did i tell you to stop?” he asked pulling back and grabbing the vibrator and flicking it on, pressing to to your abused clit, you gasped, looking down at him with wide eyes, “you are gonna hold this while i eat you out okay, you move it and i’ll stop,” he commanded.

“but, ani, it’s so sensitive,” you told him and anakin simply scoffed.

“you can take it, sluts like you can come as many times as you need to, bet you are still aching for relief,” he said pressing it down harder and you screeched, “take it,” and you did, grabbing the toy from his hand and holding it there as he burried his tongue back inside of you, licking into your sopping walls.

“oh my god, oh my god, anakin please,” you begged one hand slipping down to his hair, tugging on the dark strands with a sob. the vibrator on your clit was brutal, stirring up another orgasm in quick sucession to the last but anakin didn’t stop, he continued to lick and suck while you trembled, slick pouring from your slit as you jerked violently, cumming twice before anakin finally let up.

“you taste fucking divine, angel,” anakin said, his face glossy with your cum, you couldn’t move, couldn’t think as he switched the vibrator off and tossed it to the ground. “fuck me, i’ve never seen such a pretty girl before,” he crooned, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before crawling up your body and pressing a dirty kiss to your lips. he tasted of salt and your release and it made your body ache once more.

“ani, ani, please,” you begged against his mouth, you werent sure exactly what you were begging for but you needed it, needed him.

“sh, angel, its okay,” he said gently, running his hands down your hips sothingly, “tell me what you need” he prompted and you wailed, he looked stunned, “hey, come on talk to me, too much?” he questioned but you shook your head violently.

“need to feel you,” you said through heaving breaths, clumsily reaching out and grasping his cock that pulsed in your hand, he spluttered out a moan, rocking his hips into you, head of his cock catching your clit with such delicious pleasure that you swore you almost saw stars. “inside,” you demanded, words failing you in that moment of utter want.

“need to prep you first,” he said, gently removing your hands from his cock before sliding his fingers through your throbbing heat finding your slit with ease and slowly sinking one finger in.

“more,” you begged almost instantly, hands clinging to his shoulders and anakin complied, sinking another finger inside of you, pumping into your wet heat as you babbled and cried.

“never imagined i would have you like this, so desperate for me,” anakin panted, “wanna know a secret, i’ve wanted this for so long, have pictured taking you so many times,” he whispered, “i came reading your diary, seeing how much you wanted me,”

“anakin,” you said, hands coming to his cheeks cupping them so that he would face you, you could see the raw desire that danced behind his pretty blue eyes, “i’m ready, please,” and he complied, slowly lining his cockhead with your swollen hole slowly inching in. the burn was intense, a tearing feeling consuming your cunt even as you leaked more slick onto his sodden cock. you gasped, more tears streaming down your cheeks as anakin slowly inched deeper.

“you can do it, baby, doing so well for me,” he praised as he sunk deeper, inch by inch before burying himself at the hilt and staying there, “look at that, angel, you did it,”

“oh, oh fuck,” it was nothing like your dildo that was all solid plastic and cold feel, instead it was warm and hard and sending your body into overdrive, it took a few moments to adjust to the feel of it, the intrusive weight uncomfortable but not unwelcomed, and it was all worth it to see anakins face. his eyes screwed up in pleasure, bottom lip pinched between his teeth as he tried to stay still for you. “move, you can move, please,”

“you sure, baby,” anakin gasped, voice tight.

“yes, please,” you agreed, he started slow at first, gentle shalow thrusts that allowed you to get used to the feeling of it, but soon he began to speed up, sinking deeper inside of you with each thrust until you could feel the tip pressing against your cervix, the pleasure was indescribable, you never knew it could feel like this, so all consuming. “yes, yes, harder,” you pleaded with him.

“you sure,” he gasped out.

“yes, i’m okay,” you nodded, and anakin listened, suddenly there was nothing between you but the heat of your skin and the slick of your bodies, a mix of sweat, cum and spit. it was disgusting, a sick merging of your bodies, anakin’s face was burried in your neck, sucking crimson marks onto your sensitive skin while you clawed at his back, manicured nails cutting into his golden skin.

“shit, you feel fucking amazing,” anakin said against your skin, grinding deeper, “such a good little pussy for me, taking me so well,” he told you, “you need to come on my cock again, wanna feel you cleanch around me, okay?” he said and you nodded frantically.

“please, ani,”

“that’s it, good girl,” he cooed, thumb coming between you to circle your clit, you could feel your orgasm building as he jerked into you, his thrusts getting sloppy and you knew he was close, could tatse it on your tongue, you needed it, needed him. “i own this pussy now,” he hissed, “gonna make every single one of your dirty fantasies come true and then we can try some of mine,” anakin told you, thumb speeding up and pleasure exploded behind your eyelids, everything went white and you were gone. when you came too anakin was hovering over you still cock in hand jerking himself off frantically.

“ani,” you whispered, hand coming up shakily and grasping his cock jerking it lightly and anakin came in thick hot spurts all over your chest and face while you took it happily. he collapsed down beside you, pulling you in so your face was pressed against his chest, leg cocking over his hips. “wow,” was all you managed to say.

“better get ready baby, this was only the beginning,” anakin smirked, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forhead and you couldn’t wait to see what else he had in store for you, and you thanked the stars that you had made that little diary.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

part 2???

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A shower of bastards

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge, September 2024 edition

Prompt: shower, 399 words

Rated: T

Tags: Meet ugly; Bridal showers; Weddings; Stripper Steve; Partial nudity; Horny disaster Eddie Munson; Platonic Hellcheer

"I don't believe this," Eddie seethes, hammering on the locked bathroom door. "Goddamn strippers at a fucking bridal shower. Hey! I know you're in there! Come out or-”

The door opens. Eddie’s fist hits a very naked, very muscled, very oiled chest.

"Can I help you?"

Eddie’s gaze wanders past sun-bleached chest hair, a throat dotted in moles, a chiseled jawline, up to a smug smile adorning a pair of glossy lips, and holy shit, he’s gay.

“Hi, Gay,” say the lips. “I’m Steve.”

Fuck, he said that out loud.

“Hilarious,” Eddie barks, pushing past The Chest. Steve watches how he kicks the door shut. He’s dressed from the waist down, but the tight denim leaves little to the imagination. “I’m the- … Eddie.”

Steve’s perfect eyebrows disappear under his fringe. “The Eddie?”

Eddie tugs on his own hair. "That's my name, dumbass! Technically, I’m the maid of honor, except I’m a guy-”

“I believe the term is man of honor,” Steve provides. Eddie trails off. Damn, that makes a lot of sense. “You booked me, then? Y'know, it’s universally considered poor taste for a bridal shower. I usually-”

“I didn’t,” Eddie blurts, thinking that he’d book twenty Steves just for himself, if he could. “My best friend's day is ruined because one of her asshole fiancé’s asshole cousins thought this was a funny idea, and I swear if I find out which one of them it was, I’ll-”

“Okay,” Steve says, putting his hands on his hips. His stupidly tight shorts ride down. “Sounds like a lovely family.”

Eddie sighs dejectedly, slumping against the washbasin. “You have no fucking idea, man.”

Steve eyes him while he fumbles for his cigarettes, expression weirdly sympathetic.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

When Eddie blinks at him, he averts his gaze, oddly shy all of a sudden.

“I mean, I’ve been paid for the night, and I have a lot of second-hand experience with wedding drama, so …”

And Eddie has no idea what's gotten into him, but he's exhausted and helpless and angry, and this random guy is willing to listen. The way his chest glistens under the bathroom lights as he accepts one of Eddie’s cigarettes doesn't help, but it doesn't exactly hurt either.

And if he goes home with Steve's card tucked into his wallet? Well, he got one good thing out of this whole mess, at least.

[sepublic]

Interesting that pop culture portrays Van Helsing as an experienced, seasoned vampire hunter, when it's pretty clear in the novel that this is his first go around with the whole thing, his first confirmation they actually exist, and in other words he's basically winging it and hasn't necessarily thrown a punch in his entire life (Which means he can’t just throw hands with Dracula, he needs research and backup to organize the perfect trap where they won’t be instantly killed). VH doesn’t always know what’s going on, he’s figuring things as he goes along; Like yeah he's HEARD of vampires, but it's never been anything prominent to him.

If anything, his past with vampires is probably similar to a lot of readers; Familiar with the concept, knows some of the details but not all of them, and definitely presumes them fake. He sees something going on with his patient and is like Haha damn that's just like a vampire, wouldn't it be crazy if... And then he slowly starts settling into conspiracy theory mode when more and more dots show up to conveniently connect, as he does the obligatory Protagonist Searching Stuff Up bit and realizes Mein Gott!!! It might be a vampire!!!

But then at the last second VH reminds himself, Now hold on, have I actually SEEN this vampire??? But it won't do anyone harm if I added some garlic flowers, right...? And then it just gradually escalates from there into full-on paranoia and dread that vampires exist and VH needs to desecrate the dead, and then he finally gets confirmation when he sees an Undead Lucy. What the fuck.

I think there's an argument to be made that Van Helsing was doubting himself just as much as Seward and the others initially did, if not more so, and he can’t even talk to anyone about it; So there’s an elation where you finally talk to others and realize it’s really happening, you’re not crazy.

This just ties into the theme of recording that which you did see, which is indisputable, because it’s evidence and proof. So you can be certain you aren't totally insane, and can distinguish facts from assumptions and theories if necessary; Especially when one needs to consider other explanations for the same symptoms. There’s a relief confirming what is and isn’t real to dispel self-doubt, like there was for Jonathan, who also suffered from Dracula’s gaslighting distorting his perception of reality.

I think all of this makes Van Helsing's actions and secrecy a lot more understandable when handling Lucy; If you hired a doctor and he suddenly started bringing up vampires, you might be inclined to think he's insane, doesn't know what he's talking about, and has read too many vampire stories and probably believes in 'alternative' medicine. Van Helsing still has an image and reputation to uphold here, and if it's gone, he can't actually be there to help Lucy if he turns out to be right.

That isn't to say he isn't without critique, especially in later portions of the novel, but you can kinda see where this underdog stance of "I'm right and the others around me are wrong" gets vindicated and thus develops into a bit of arrogance later down the line; Particularly, in presuming his disagreements with Mina to be no different than his secrecy with Seward and Mrs. Westenra.

In the end, VH could be described as a character who wonders if he's in the novel Dracula (compared to Jonathan who knows he's in a horror story of some kind but can't name the genre), but then has to remind himself this is reality... If this is a story, it’s probably just some medical drama. And when VH does accept he's in the novel Dracula, he assumes his character development and the lessons he learns are straightforward.

[bearw-me]

Hii hope I'm not interrupting.

Can we please have some angel dust with a young sibling reader (everything platonic OF COURSE), they're younger than angel by two years.

Take your time with this one 🌸

you're never interrupting! thxs for request such a cute prompt! i love platonic stuff :,]

𝐒𝐩𝐮𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐛 — 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐜𝐬

𐐒 ft : platonic angel dust x younger sibling!reader, valentino mentioned 𐐒 cw : fluff, mentions of alcohol, swearing, slight angst, angel shoots someone for you 𐐒 summary : general hcs + what angel is like as a big brother 𐐒 note : forgive me that this feels a little long, but i needed to get all this off my chest!

every time the two of you are introduced to someone they assume angel is the younger one (you both correct them)

angel always acts like the younger sibling

by the way you pull up in your car or a cab and peel him from the clubs, annoyed that he's clinging to you drunkenly and hugging you but also relieved that he's safe

him mushing your face around and sobbing about "how much he actually loves you" and "what would he do without you"

Angel always stands up for you, even going so far as to shoot someone just because they said something to you

now that he lives at the hotel, he likes to text you and plan fun "dates" for you guys to do and spend time together

when and if you ask, he always gives you money "okay run along now, go, keep yourself busy or something" while shooing you away

although angel doesn't care that he's in hell, or the messed up situation he's in with Val, he really cares about you being down here

and in his own way, he tries to keep you away from all that stuff

likes when you call him by his actual name: Anthony

the only time you'd probably call him "Angel Dust" is when he tells you to, which is usually at work

and loves that no matter how much he f*cks up, or you do for that matter, you'll always have each other, no matter what

would love doing your makeup or giving you some of his whenever you drop by to visit him

you fight, as siblings do, yelling and throwing things at each other if it gets serious before angel walks out like a drama queen

then that very same night you'd both be sending each other funny videos and pictures as if it never happened

he always apologizes though, like when he sees you the next time in person

he still calls you "kid"

i feel like he'd be prone to fixing you up and dotting on you like a mother. like if you went to a school dance or something he'd help you get ready and fiddle with your hair until he figured it was perfect and would STAY all night

probably cried at any event that celebrated you; like a graduation

tries to be a big brother and not tell you about what happens at work, or how Val owns his soul (you could probably get a bit out of him and be there for his comfort, but he only talks openly about it to cherri and husk)

your big brother is always just a phone call away, like he will literally drop everything he's holding no matter how fragile and find a way to get to you

when you were both younger angel dust was a scrappy little kid, getting into fights with anyone on the playground and chipping his tooth.

always tried to give you the best he could (don't worry, he was never a horrible brother, just a little dramatic at times)

[violettierre]

My haitani father Shio headcanon is just a bit too funny cuz of how well it works that it sounds like a waste of perfect canon idea and crossover for both of wakui's works.

Aside from the obvious physical features very very obvious, identical eyes, nose, blonde eyebrows, rindou's face form, ran's hair color palette and (arguably) bonten hair style, blah blah i mean just look a the pictures below, you can also bring up any fact from either manga and add it to the hc and it fits in just SO WELL, i'll give the first example, The Haitanis are very obviously rich spoiled kids like have you seen their apartment? They have a fucking dj set, only rich kids with neglective powerful parents will have no problem paying for that, just saying, and even though i love him let's be real Shio is the type to be that parent, i mean cmon he's rich like crazy rich (filthy yakuza money yum yum) he tots would give his children WAY more than enough allowance so they can leave him alone, also the way they act, i've always the Haitanis were the type of kids that think they own the school cuz their dad is rich .

Nvm if this never becomes canon or both universes don't collide, it's just so entertaining to keep connecting the dots that were likely never there, like how Rindou is a heavy drinker cuz his father drank alot with the rest of the Yotsurugis and he tried to imitate him from a young age that it became an unhealthy habit or if you want to add more drama he only drinks cuz he looks up to his father but Shio favors Ran cuz he can posssibly succeed him (canon power complex) so Rindou resorted to drinking cuz it's the only thing like his dad that he can do. Heck yeah i made it angsty!!!

You can also add great context to his fear of Yakuza, picture this, when he was a kid he got up in the middle of night after hearing a loud noise to search for his parents and witnessed Shio (canon Yakuza) pew pew-ing some poeple and surrounded with scary men, that probably scarred him for life that he was so terrified when Kakucho got them interfering with some, OH OH something just came to mind, if he's the son of a yakuza yeah he didn't wanna clash with other yakuza families cuz it can end in a blood shed and risk his and his family's lives.

And i'm gonna add this one not very small detail and i swear i'll shut up (for now), i know it's just a stupid headcanon that is very far from becoming reality and i don't have to take it this deep but hear me out, why their last name is Haitani and not Yotsurugi like their dad, Shio is powerful and have many enemies right ? So he simply decided to protect his children and their identity by giving them another last name likely their mother's (yk like minato with naruto style plan ?) So Haitani is actually their mom's family name. I rest my case. Thank you for coming to my useless ted talk.

[factual-fantasy]

Happy 1st Birthday Jangles!!

This post was originally going to be a humongous comic filled with lore, goofs, and even a bit of angst? 👀 And then have a funny/wholesome ending. Just like Bibi’s birthday comic.

But.. I ran into a problem. I didn’t know what to get for Jangles.

For Bibi’s present it was obvious what to get him. He wanted a real friend. Bringing Jangles to life was perfect and really tied the whole comic together.

But Jangles? What does he want? 

I wracked my brain for days. And when I finally thought of an idea? I only had 8 days left to make it happen. Sketch the comic out on paper, sketch it again in digital, line it, color it, backgrounds, dialogue.. I also had to make the actual present so that its picture could be used in the comic. All while having a very busy schedule for this week AND while working on Moon Malfunction..

I thought I could pull it off. So I got to sketching right away.

The comic would start with me in a big black blob. Locking myself away to try and get this project done as fast as possible. You know, like a total drama queen XD

Bibi and Jangles break in, and Bibi tries to talk to me but I ignore him. Meanwhile Jangles goes over to this goopy present by the wall. The present has a tag with Jangles name on it. As he goes to open it I do a spoopy jump scare and tell him not to.  Jangles and I then proceed to go back and fourth. “Why not?” Because its not good enough yet. “I’m sure its fine, what is it? What’s it for?” I cant tell you what its for because its not that day yet. “What is that day? And why cant we know about it?” “BECAUSE, its a S E C R E T-”

Bibi then says I need a break. I tell him I cant because I’m running out of time. I tell him that it needs to be posted on a specific day and that it has to be perfect but I don’t know what to do..

Jangles then deadpans “Its my birthday isn’t it?”

“...Yes. It is.”

“Okay? So what? I get wanting to post it on the day. But why all this pressure for the perfect gift?”

I explain that Bibi got a big special comic for his birthday. It had all the bells and whistles and it had the perfect gift. Jangles. And I wanted to do the same for him. I explained that the problem though was I haven’t really written enough of Jangles character to know what he would want.. I then wrote for Jangles response to be,

“Well what I dont want is you stressing yourself out over me.”

..I stopped sketching the comic at that point. I realized that I was stressing myself out way too much over this comic. It was 1 in the morning at that point. I was already pushing myself so hard to get this done on time and make it perfect that all the fun was just zapped right out of it. 

But I still worried a bit. I care about Jangles as my character and I wanted to do something cool for him. I wanted to post this at midnight on the dot, but that would require me to stay up until then when I’m still wiped out from the day before.. I also still wanted to get him a cool present.. But again I figured Jangles wouldn’t want me to stress over this “big comic” and “special gift” stuff.  So I just settled for a break. 

This entire post was prepared early, and posted when ever I was awake enough to post it. All the days beforehand I spent just taking my time with Moon Malfunction and focusing on my schedule. And on the day I’m posting it, I plan to draw nothing. Just relax and take a break from everything. I’ll get back around to all my projects tomorrow.

I think a post with minimal effort and day of no Tumblr, is probably exactly what Jangles would have wanted. So Happy Birthday Jangles! And thanks for the day off! XD

[theperksofbeingstupid]

It starts like this.

Roier and Cellbit moved into their new house six weeks ago after the tragic death of Roier's son. Roier's partner (what was her name again?) slowly stopped talking to him after that, and they didn't need such a big house anymore so. They move.

It's a nice house, all things considered. One floor, big windows that let in light all day, a porch, nice backyard. No extra bedrooms.

Cellbit has claimed a corner of the living room as his office. He put up a corkboard on one wall and is steadily covering it with newspaper clippings and red string. His desk is cluttered with books and notes and coffee stains, and every time Roier passes by, his footsteps stir up dust that he was so sure he'd cleaned.

The sun sets early now. It gets dark so fast that Roier has to flick on the lights or else Cellbit will ruin his eyes trying to read his handwriting by the dim light of the television they never turn off.

Roier watches it sometimes. He doesn't know where they left the remote and he can't really be bothered to get up and change the channel. They're always playing some menial drama, or cycling through commercials for products he'll never need. He can never quite remember what the story is about.

It starts like this.

Roier and Cellbit sleep in the same bed every night. Technically.

Roier is tucked in at 10pm sharp every night. Cellbit doesn't drag himself into their bedroom until at least four in the morning and he barely remembers to slip out of his clothes before he's crashing into the sheets.

Roier wakes up at 7am on the dot and wanders into the kitchen to make breakfast. He gets dressed. He cleans the house. He doesn't think about the face he's forgetting, a child he loved and clutched tightly to his chest as he bled out all over his lap. He doesn't think about it he doesn't think about it he doesn't think about it he doesn't-- Roier clicks on the coffee machine at 1pm and waits for Cellbit to groan awake and stumble into his seat at the table.

They kiss, usually. When Roier is cooking dinner, Cellbit will press up against his back and dig his face into Roier's hair and they're happy. Cellbit will plop a wet kiss on Roier's cheek when he thinks he's being quiet while getting into bed. Roier cherishes each and every one, they melt into his skin like the snowflakes they used to crumple into snowballs to throw at each other. Before, back when--

It starts like this.

Roier and Cellbit love their new house. It's perfect in every way possible. It has furniture, it has a bathroom with two sinks so they can brush their teeth together in the mornings. It has big windows that let in the light all day, a porch, nice backyard. There is only one bedroom.

They don't have many neighbours, not that they'd know. They stick to themselves mostly, Cellbit in his makeshift office and Roier wandering the house, dragging his knuckles along the bare walls. He thinks he remembers paint, covering marker stains and scratching out height marks and hand prints in three different sizes. But the walls are always blank.

Cellbit forgets to use a coaster, and he keeps knocking over empty coffee mugs all over his papers. Roier hasn't tried reading them in weeks. He wonders if they make as much sense as the books on the singular shelf in their bedroom.

Roier takes care of the house while Cellbit works. It's an equal exchange, especially considering that when Roier cooks Cellbit has to do the dishes, keep them as sparkling clean as everything else in the house. The laundry machine is tucked away in the far corner of the kitchen, with no dryer in sight. He piles it with clothes he didn't bother to sort from the hamper, shoving in towels and socks and shirts all in one load. They always come out fine anyways, the colour bleached out by the rigorous washing cycle.

It starts like this.

Roier and Cellbit got married three years ago in a small venue with close friends and family present. It was a sweet ceremony, they kissed tenderly at the end, Cellbit ugly cried when they exchanged rings, and Roier got frosting smeared all over his white suit.

Two months later they moved into their old place, decorated a child's bedroom, took care not to step on any toys, and lived their happily ever after.

Until they couldn't anymore. But everything is fine, they have a new house now, and it's wonderful. It didn't cost much to buy it, the location is nice, everything is clean and crisp and ready for a brand new start.

Cellbit runs out of red string one evening, but Roier offers him white thread he was using to mend one of his jackets and everything is fine.

It starts like this.

Roier and Cellbit are in love. They do everything for the other, they're family, they're best friends, they're lovers.

They only have each other.

Roier watches tv and cooks dinner, Cellbit sits at his desk and covers the corkboard with more and more pages until it's no longer visible. He gets into the habit of adding milk to his coffee, the taste too bitter and grating otherwise. And every afternoon when he arrives at the kitchen, his splash of milk in the mug grows longer and longer. It's fine, they're changing.

There was a point in time when they were saving up for a car. Something dependable that they could trust to withstand tiny kicking feet and mudstains, that could travel to volleyball practice and then to work with no trouble.

Now, Roier wanders the house and thinks about nothing. He thinks about his nothing walls and his nothing furniture and his nothing dinner. He thinks about his everything husband and his nothing life. He thinks that he might've lost his bandana in the wash the other day, but Cellbit likes it when his hair hangs loose.

Cellbit's hair hangs loose also. It's soft when Roier cards his fingers through the strands and wonders if it was always more white than brown. Was it ever not white? He's always had light brown hair, but something itches in the back of his brain that makes him pause and question whether Cellbit's hair was ever that light also. Clearly he's not sleeping enough, it's just the sunlight from the windows bleaching their hair.

It starts like this.

Roier and Cellbit have a lovely new house far away from the bustle of the city. They love it here.

They don't have to worry about anyone bothering them while they're at home, and their fridge is always stocked with plain yoghurt and tofu and chickpeas. Roier is working on fixing Cellbit's diet.

They eat dinner together, holding hands over the table. They watch mindless tv before bed. They brush their teeth together in the morning. Roier thinks about how much he loves Cellbit, and Cellbit looks at Roier like he hung the moon. They don't worry about crayon lines on the walls or jello splotches on the sofa. Roier doesn't worry about the phantom feeling of a small body cooling in his lap lingering every time he gets dressed for the day. Cellbit doesn't worry about the gasping pain in his chest or the papers he doesn't remember writing.

It starts like this.

Roier and Cellbit love each other, and they love their new house.

Roier and Cellbit don't have anyone else, just the white walls and the white furniture and their white clothes. Why would they need anyone else?

Roier and Cellbit got sold a new house by a man who was also a bear. And they never want to leave.

Roier and Cellbit are happy.

Roier and Cellbit are safe.

Roier and Cellbit have been missing for six weeks, if you have any information please call--

[thefrontofmymind]

12 Days of Christmas: Day 1 - Secret Santa

hello all! this is the first installment of @abiiors 's 12 Days of Christmas !!

NOTE: this is a continuation of Nothing's Changed, a oneshot I wrote a few months ago. i would say you should read it beforehand just so you know what's going on

You weren’t nervous for the faculty secret santa, you’d seen a billion listicles of good generic gifts that could fit just about any of you coworkers.

It was only as you slyly opened the folded piece of paper you drew from the box and read the name, a shock went down your spine and you broke into a cold sweat. Ross.

You could argue it was silly to get so worried. You had your lists! But with Ross…it has to be special. You had to get him something meaningful–this was your first Christmas together, and granted you’d already ordered him a stack of vintage records of albums he loved, but you knew you couldn’t flake out and get him…a box of chocolates, for example.

But you had to be careful, anything too special could set off alarm bells in everyone else’s heads. It was common knowledge that you were friends in uni, and when given the chance you would be glued to each other’s sides, but there were policies about fraternisation between colleagues and you couldn’t lose this job.

You wracked your brain from the Wednesday morning of the name draw, up until Friday afternoon trying to think of something–anything–for Ross.

“You still here?” Lou said, popping her head through your doorway. “I thought I’d be the last one out of here tonight!”

You laughed–your neighbouring drama teacher was known for spending her evenings building set pieces and readying props and costumes for whatever performance her classes were doing next. “Just…milling around…”

“What’s up?” In the few months you’d known her, it seemed Lou always had the knack for sensing when someone was off; she’d know to send a student to the school nurse just with one glance at them.

“It’s silly, really…” You trailed off.

“It’s clearly bothering you, what’s up?” She persisted, taking a seat on the desk closest to your work station at the front of the room–where Ross would sit to eat lunch with you everyday for the past 2 months.

“I just don’t know what to get my secret santa–I know it’s stupid to get all worried about it–just…you know, I need it to be perfect,” you answered.

Lou let out a sigh. “What are you doing tomorrow? We can go into town and I’ll help you find a gift.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief at the idea of help. Though, how would you go about with Lou’s help without her cottoning on to the fact that the one reason you were so nervous was that you didn’t want to toe the line of co-workers and romantic partners too much around the people that couldn’t know.

“And maybe I’ll find something for my gift,” she continued. “What do you get Jimmy in Geography, anyway?”

“A map?” You joked.

“Well I imagine he probably has enough of those laying around,” Lou answered with a grin. “Who do you have anyway?”

“Ross.”

“Ah, right, I get it now…” she commented before leaving, calling out a quick ‘I’ll drop by at 10!’ as she strolled out the door.

~~~

It wasn’t as cold as you expected the next morning. The sun had come out and there was a light layer of dew over the outside frames of the windows of your flat. You could even get away with just wearing your coat with a normal t-shirt for once.

You spoke to Ross the night before–he had grading to do before the end of term so he was spending his whole Saturday in a hole in his living room, surrounded by four classes worth of history essays to read. You were grateful he didn’t ask what your plans were, you just left it at a ‘then I’ll leave you to it’ and he seemed satisfied with it.

And in a stroke of rare luck, Lou was at your doorstep at 10 on the dot, with two oat milk lattes in her hands. It was never her forte to be on time, but you were glad your morning wasn’t full of anxiously waiting around for your coworker–and now friend. 

“So what are you thinking?” Lou asked as you strolled through the crowded street mall you found yourself in. She pointed to a fancy cosmetics shop. “Cologne or something maybe?”

“Not personal enough, I think,” you answered. “Why couldn’t I just get someone I don’t know anything about?!”

Lou laughed. It made you realise you may have been overthinking it just a little. You’d known Ross for years, you loved him… You just had to go with your gut.

“You and Ross are close, huh?” Lou continued after a few moments of silent strolling.

“In uni…we were inseparable,” you replied. “Like really close.”

She gave you a look, wide eyes. It was a silent question. Just how close? You gave one curt nod in response, a sign that you couldn’t talk about it, but it was clear what the answer would be.

Suddenly you felt like a weight had come off your chest. Finally you were honest to someone about Ross. You realised you didn’t have to completely hide your relationship, you just had to be careful about it. You immediately caught onto the notion that by and large you didn’t need to overthink this all; just go with your heart, and you’ll find the perfect gift for the most perfect man.

Walking past a jeweller, a gold glint caught the corner of your eye. It was a display in the window–a gold chain, not too delicate, but thick enough for you to see it immediately. You made a b-line for it without even looking to Lou. Every link interlocked with each other and laid so smoothly. 

You remembered Ross wore a thin chain in university–you remembered it dangling over your face as he hovered above you, begging for him to drown you in kisses yet again. At some point over the years he must have either lost it or forgone it as a growing moment. You missed it tickling your face, hiding within his chest hair like a hidden treasure waiting to be unearthed–you got butterflies just thinking about it.

Sure, it was a little out of the price range for the gift exchange, but you always took those sorts of things as just a guideline. You and Lou walked out of the little family-owned shop with a tiny navy blue bag in your hand and a spring in your step.

~~~

You kept one eye on the small wrapped box under the tree in the staffroom during the staff party. Even though no one, bar Lou, knew what it contained, you were still worried someone would take it or misplace it or mistake it for their own gift. Through drinks and shallow conversations about your holiday plans and picking at the spread of potluck appetisers provided but almost everyone in the room, every so often you would just quickly glance to make sure it was still in it’s spot sitting atop a wrapped cylinder that you could only guess was a candle–it made you giggle to yourself to think that someone panicked and grabbed the first think they could think of, the most basic gift imaginable.

You spent most of your time glued next to Ross. He looked so…beautiful in his knitted red sweater with his hair pulled back like usual. You just couldn’t wait for him to open his gift. You couldn’t help but stare at the glint in his eyes as he chuckled along with the group at Kerry from biology’s story about her sons’ antics.

After about an hour and a half of mingling, it was finally time for the gifts. You all sat in a big circle around the staff room as Principal Janine handed out the wrapped presents. You giggled at the gag gifts, smiled at the sweet gifts, and tried to hide your confusion at gifts that were clearly some kind of inside joke you weren’t privy to.

Janine finally picked up the box for Ross. “And this one’s for…Ross!”

You could barely contain your excitement as he began to tear at the corner of the wrapping. You could tell he was being gentle with it, trying to ignore the spurs of “rip it!” from the group. He looked inquisitively at the small velvet box once it was free from the paper.

“Open it,” you whispered from beside him. You almost missed the glint in his eye as he slyly glanced at you. You knew you’d already given the game away–he knew it was from you.

The gold chain didn’t sparkle as much as you hoped under the fluorescent lights of the staff room, but it still caused a mist in Ross’ eyes just the same.

“So who do you think it’s from, then?” Lou asked with a grin–after all, she was there with you when you bought it.

“It can only be from one person, I reckon.” He smiled and placed a firm hand on the back of your shoulder.

You could’ve melted under his touch then and there. Even with all the private escapades you had gotten up to, nothing could compare to the adrenaline rush you felt at the tiniest amount of affection you could show each other in public.

“Well, I noticed you don’t wear one anymore! I thought you could get a little nostalgia from it!” You were smiling so wide, it looked like someone had stuck a clothes hanger in your mouth.

You noticed that underneath the tree was beginning to get sparse. Only about half a dozen gifts were left, you wondered which one was yours.

Janine grabbed a bulky, square-shaped, wrapped box and read the nametag on it. She joyfully passed it to you.

You couldn’t help but immediately tear the wrapping, making just an ounce of the mess you used to love making on Christmas morning when you were a kid.

It was a bottle of perfume. Not just any bottle. Britney Spears’ Midnight Fantasy. You let out a deep chuckle once you’d registered what it was–the perfume you were just about addicted to in uni, you pretty much had a stockpile running of them for your full 3 years there.

You heard a laugh from beside you. Ross had a smile just as wide as yours, his cheeks had all bunched up and he got those little creases at the edges of his eyes that you loved so much.

“Of course!” You bellowed. You realised everyone else in the room looked confused, you thought it’d be kind to clue them in. “I was obsessed with this perfume in uni, like, I don’t think I ever wore another perfume then.”

“Never! We knew you’d be coming when we could smell it while you were still a mile up the road!”

~~~

Ross’ cheeks were lit but the LED tealights surrounding your flat. You set up a picnic of sorts–inside, of course, no one in their right mind would stay outside in the freezing temperatures for longer than necessary–with an Indian takeaway.

It was small moments like this, the intimacy, that made you appreciate Ross even more. You’d thought it out and come to a conclusion; you didn’t mind that you couldn’t be all love-y with each other in public, it was the private times that counted, and with each interaction you could feel yourself falling further and further.

“I hope you like it,” you said, when discussing your secret Santa gifts–coincidentally to each other.

“Are you kidding, love? You’ll have to wrestle it off me now!” He smiled, a little wonky from the two bottles of wine you’d shared that evening.

You giggled. “I’m glad, and likewise with the perfume I…I can’t believe you remembered the exact one.”

“Of course I did!” He replied. He placed his plate on the picnic blanket that was sprawled out on your living room floor. “I actually have something else–to go along with it…”

He shifted and turned to dig through his bag, normally filled with supplies for school and his laptop. He retrieved a brown paper binded scrapbook.

“This was the-uh-second part of the gift,” he continued. “But I couldn’t quite give you this bit in front of everyone else.”

He handed you the book, and you finally got a good look at the cover. There was a picture of the two of you back from some university party back in the day–probably scoured from someone’s Facebook memories. You tried to hide your cringe at your outfit, not quite something you would wear today.

You began to flip through the pages. Photos from your year together, tickets to the films you saw at the cinema, a concert ticket or two as well. Each page had a little paragraph written right onto it in Ross’ scribbly yet concise handwriting–sometimes explaining a memory of a day in the fall when you got excited to watch Hocus Pocus with him, or a poem about snow falling down on you and resting in your hair.

You flipped to the last page, there was a lengthy letter written.

My love,

If all is going as planned, I’m watching you read this right now. I could stare at you forever, you know that?

You looked up to see Ross smiling at you, you couldn’t help but let out a schoolgirl-like giggle.

Even though you’ll vehemently deny it, the truth is you are the most beautiful sight in the world. Ever. I will never get sick of being graced by those eyes, the curve of your neck into your shoulders, your arms that you swear dangle just a little too far to be proportionate, and those hips–my word, those hips.

I could go on about your looks forever, but that is barely the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the marvel that is you. You’re always so kind, so caring, and you’re the smartest in most rooms you’re in.

For a long time I thought the only chance I had with you was gone when we split so long ago. I must’ve accrued some bloody good karma to give me a second chance at loving you. I know it hasn’t been that long this time around yet, and I know we’re bound for a hassle the longer this goes on, but I want you to know that I’m in it. Whatever it takes, you are staying in my life and there’s not a chance I’m letting you go again.

All of this to say, I love you.

Your Ross

P.S. Don’t feel pressure to say it back or anything. It’s just important that you know.

You couldn’t stop the grin on your face. There was heat spreading all across your face and neck. You realised you hadn’t looked back up at Ross yet–you just couldn’t help but re-read the last few lines of his letter. I love you. I love you. I love you.

When you finally looked back at him, you could see his smile had faltered just a little. He was worried about your response.

You tried to find the words to tell him how you felt. How perfect this all was.

“Sorry if I…overstepped,” he started. “I just had to get it out, you know? Like there was this-”

You cut him off with a kiss. A deep kiss. The kind that did all the talking for you. The kind where you didn’t care that your teeth hit each other on impact and your neck was craning in an awkward position and all of Ross’ weight was settled on one hand leaning on the carpet and it was beginning to aggravate the skin on the palm of his hand.

In the end, none of that mattered. Because you loved each other, and after so long without one another that was the most important thing in your life.

[bellatrixnightshade]

if the sge characters were students in modern era, what kind of student they would be? Personally me i find james being one of the top students !

I think James would be a top student like he was in canon.

i think the twins will probably be good students too, though maybe Rhian actually struggles with some aspects of school. He still does well, but he doesn't want anyone to know if he learns a different way or just can't get it like Rafal. (Rafal the perfect student in his eyes.) I also think that so many, including Rafal himself, would underestimate Rhian because he comes off as a party animal, vain, and a dumb blond boy. However, he's smarter than he looks. Rafal would either fight over James I guess (modern school, more drama) or have some random boyfriend or girlfriend who quickly breaks up with him. Also, Rafal would surprisingly know the tea and what's happening with everyone, if it could be drama related, and he does provide additional context when people talk about others. ("oh yeah, I saw her go to the party with some dude that wasn't her boyfriend. And it happened to be (insert name) of all people.") And if this was in college and he was with Rhian, who would doubtlessly hang around the party group, he would go to a party once, try to be stupid once, get drunk once and then something REALLY BAD happens, while Rhian has close calls but still is saved by Rafal.

Sophie and Agatha would have a similar dynamic to the og series where Agatha helps Sophie with her homework. Tedros will perform better with the more social and sporty parts of school, but maybe not as well in exams and so forth. I think he and Rhian would be rivals, since Tedros is rich and popular and Rhian is fun, handsome, and popular himself. I feel like this would provoke Rhian's nastier side, and Rafal would have to intervene by telling Tedros in private to stay away from Rhian and get out of his way.

The Coven would be their own trio, studying together and performing well, though Dot is often the teased one. Sadly, because she's nicer from the three! They would scare off the rest of the students just by their presence.

Kyma would be a member of the Student Council if not its president. She would also do academically well, and have to help Aladdin with his homework. Aladdin, who is always late and always hanging around the wrong crowd. he seems the type to be caught shoplifting with friends.

Midas has the potential to be a great student on his own, since he is naturally smart. But he ditches school and he cheats his way through tests and sports. I would say he would be leave culinary classes with Rufius, because he becomes a part of Rafal's group, and Rufius is not enough to be a part of it, even if he is a good friend. (he regrets it.) I would imagine Midas is infatuated with Rafal, and Rafal is somewhat impressed by Midas' nerve and how he is fearless. Midas would join a chess club and cheat there so much. I think Midas would also bring gambling into the school, maybe during Rhian's parties, and Aladdin would especially suffer. He would lose money and this is after he lost his job by the way. This could also work in a college AU. I suppose Midas changes his attitude after something bad happens.

I'm sorry but peter pan looks like that high school freshman already hooked on weed....

Thanks for the ask! This was fun, though I think I did more college vibes than high school--

[stellasfictionalworld]

part 6.

part 7

a/n: LOVE ANDRE. finally switching pov's. gonna try my best to write andre's pov. also random, i used to hate "babe/baby" so much, but with andre i go feral over it.

also let me know if you wanna be on a tag list <333

reader x andre anderson 

cw: (i mean you’ve watched the show so) negative views of sex, reader seeing sex as a tool rather than pleasure, implied sex, toxic ex's, drugs, drinking, angst, eventual fluff,

word count: 1,780

 You slammed the door behind you, if you had super strength the hinges would have flown off the wall. Ashley had brought her new best friends over to your dorm. They ended up doing weed mixed in with some drugs. The smell was fine, you had to hide the evidence it was fine. Then you had to clean up after them, fine. Then they started to talk to you and your study session was over. Your phone buzzed in your pocket already, Ashley is probably texting you. She was probably filled with anxiety and paranoia but you were fucking over it. 

You silenced your phone and went to the library to study. It was much quieter, ignoring a fallen-over row of books from library sex, it was nice. Finally, after a couple of hours, you finished an essay and were skimming your classmates' work. Andre may have gotten special treatment for free (maybe your exchange was complicated feelings) but your peers still had to pay for your hard work. You rubbed your eyes and then looked at your phone.

Ashley’s texts were 20+ 

Are you mad?

HELLO!??

I’M SORRY!

Please come BacK

I love you

Omg 

come back. 

Omg you have to listen to Trixie’s boyfriend drama

are you coming back soon? Can youbuySNACKS?

You started to type a paragraph about your friend's shitty behavior (again) and then popped up a message. 

andre (jacket lender)

would you like to get coffee tomorrow? - 1:33 pm

You still saw him typing on the other end but your heart raced. 

how about rn?? -1:33pm

andre (jacket lender) 

yeah! meet you in 10 @ Jitter Bean Cafe? 

You smiled to yourself as you sent 

cool :) 

You shoved everything in your tote bag before practically skipping out of the library. You bit down on your lower lip to fight off a smile. You hoped it was a date and not even a single wave of anxiety could slip into your mind. Of course, you were anxious but a cage of butterflies was nothing compared to what you’d dealt with in the past. Your walk slowed across campus as you waved and smiled at your peers. 

You were on the dot, stepping into the cafe. Your eyes flitted over familiar faces huddled together to find the handsome one. He stood by the counter leaning down to look at the pastry display. You smiled to yourself while striding over to him. You tapped his shoulder and he met your eyes. His perplexed expression turned warm as he smiled at you. 

“Hey,” he said. He slipped his fidgety fingers into the pocket of his pants. 

“Hey,” you echoed back, entranced by his outfit. His sweater was soft and oversized. He wore off-white dress pants and perfectly white shoes. A watch rested on his left wrist and a black bracelet was on the other. It was weird to see him look so sharp. 

“I hope this was a good spot, for a date y’know,” he snapped you out of your thoughts. 

“It’s perfect,” you said before hooking your arm with his. He let out an exhale and his shoulders dropped. You two ordered your drinks, making small talk while waiting for your order. In between each laugh or fluttering emotion, you felt yourself slip into a safe place, with him. 

… 

“Thanks,” you say when he settles back in his seat. 

“Hm? For what?” he asked. 

“For this,” you flutter your fingers at the coffee scene, a normal date. You lick your glossed lips that taste like (blank). “It’s nice, to just be,” your smile faltered when a couple of phones were pointed in your direction. 

“Of course,” he spoke your name, bringing your attention back to him. “I’m serious about this, about you. You know that right?” Andre asked. You nodded your head, holding together a tight smile. There was pressure building up in your chest. You rubbed the fabric of your pink shirt. He patiently waited for your response. 

“Yeah, I know,” you said taking a sip of your drink. The snapping of photos irked you, peoples hushed voices behind their hands. All too familiar. “Sorry, I.I.,” you paused and took a deep breath. “I need to go to the bathroom,” you got up. 

“Sure,” Andre nodded, “you okay?” he asked. 

You didn’t answer him, already focused on escaping the curious eyes of others. You pushed open the doors to the outside and found yourself a tree to sit behind. Sure the bathroom was so secluded, but you didn’t want to go on a sob fest. You just needed air, to let whatever panic attack pass. You started to pluck the grass while one hand stayed over your chest. The tightness started to unravel. 

“Cupid,” Dylan said and your heart dropped. 

“Shit,” you said. No no no no. “Get the fuck away,” you said, eyes snapping up. 

The man’s piercing blue eyes cut through you. Your fist scrunched up your top, hiding away your bare chest from him. 

“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that. If you wanna make me cry again, do it,” he said, with a smug grin. 

“Just fuck off Dylan,” you spoke, looking for your phone. Shit. You’d left your phone in your tote bag. 

“You, don’t get to tell me what to do,” he said, crouching down to your level. He smelled like sweat and his eyes were red. He was on something again, his breath reeked. “You owe me,” he said. You wanted to gag as your back pressed up against the tree. 

…

Andre's fingers drummed against the table, his leg bounced as he sat. He blew out a long breath before looking up from his phone. You’d left 10 minutes ago, he wasn’t stupid, he knew something was wrong. A pool of regret and guilt he didn’t feel too often started to eat him up. He shut his phone off, staring at your melting cold brew. 

Was he not what you expected? Being in frat houses and using lots of liquor courage to talk to you was the norm. When you saw him sobered up as you requested, were you disappointed? He rested his chin on his knuckle and continued to bop his leg. Harsh whispers caught him and he turned to look at the other tables. Students gathered at their tables were laughing, and staring at their phones. 

“Can you believe Andre is going out with that slut?” one girl spoke. 

“Right?? But you’ve seen the pictures right? She’s fucking hot… I get it,” another girl said. The duo looked over at Andre’s table and he was already getting up. He strode over, fingers twitching by his side. They still had shitty grins on their face when he stopped in front of their table. He saw pictures of him and you, just ten minutes ago. Posted. Cupid fucking her way up the ranks.

“Delete it,” he said. 

The girl laughed in disbelief but grew serious when he stayed still. 

“Fuck this,” he said and took the phone out of her hand. She was silent as he deleted it, the damage had already been done, however he didn’t care. Andre then went on to delete all the photos from her album and deleted album. He did admire how fucking good you looked but also saw when your smile became a frown. Why didn’t you say anything to him? He then handed her back the phone which now had dents. She shamefully took it and he did the same with the other girl.

The coffee shop had gone quiet. His heart was beating fast against his chest. He turned around to see some people minding their business but others eyes were glued to him. A couple of phones were not so well hidden, he wasn’t stupid. His fingers curled by his sides as loud crackling took over the room. It sounded like multiple cans had been crushed at once. He blinked away dark spots as ringing echoed in his ears. He hummed when he was back at your table grabbing your bag. The pink tote bag with heart prints swung over his shoulder as he ordered a new cold brew. 

Andre made his way out of the coffee shop and started to text you. Then your bag buzzed and he swore under his breath. It was campus, he’d find you somewhere. He searched for 15 minutes indoors outside the coffee shop. He then saw you out the window and his heart dropped. That fucking guy, Dave, whatever the fuck his name was with you. Your wrists were in his hands as you were pressed against a tree. You looked utterly distraught as he spoke to you. Andre’s sneakers squeaked against the floor and he found the nearest exit. 

…

“Hey!” Andre yelled. Both you and Dylan whipped your heads in his direction. You mouthed stop at Andre as Dylan let go of you. He gave you a questionable look before slowing his pace to a jog.

“Is this your new boyfriend? Really?” Dylan said, seeming hurt. His eyes were still red, and glassy, and dried tears stained his face. You pushed Dylan off you and put yourself between him and Andre. 

“What the fuck was that?” Andre asked, stopping in front of you. His chest rose and fell as his eyes flicked to Dylan and then you. “Are you okay?” His voice was softer. Your toxic ex scoffed, while your date awaited your response. 

“I’m okay,” you said and his shoulders dropped. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you said quietly. You looked past Andre, already seeing students stop and gawk at the sight. This time, Andre clocked it and nodded. You turned around to face Dylan. He didn’t meet your eyes, shame, and guilt evident in his eyes.

Sighing, you turned back to Andre and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into his touch, noticing your tote bag slung over his shoulder. He handed you a slightly melted cold brew, apologizing he didn’t find you sooner. Warmth filled in your chest as you looked up at him. His eyes were straight ahead, his jaw locked. He caught you out of the corner of his eye and melted.

“If they’re gonna look, let’s give them something to look at,” he whispered. Your heart jumped. His lips brushed your cheek, your face flushed, and you smiled. His hand trailed to your waist, his hold was firm but gentle.

“Is this okay?” he asked. 

“Mhm,” you managed, taking a sip of your coffee. “Thanks,” you looked up at him, wondering if you should pinch yourself. No way this man was fucking real. 

“Anything for you, baby,” he said.

[gcthvile]

Felicia MacLeod

Name: Felicia MacLeod

Age: 343

Height: 6'0

Sexuality: Pan

Family:

Mother - Rowena Macleod

Father - name unknown

Brother - Fergus Roderick Macleod/Crowley

Background

Felicia MacLeod was born in the late 17th century in the Scottish Highlands, into a family of modest means. As the younger sister of Fergus MacLeod, who later became known as Crowley, she grew up in his shadow. Unlike her brother, Felicia possessed a natural charm and cunning intellect from a young age. However, she lacked Crowley's ambition to rise above their humble beginnings through legitimate means.

Frustrated by societal limitations, Felicia sought out forbidden knowledge and stumbled upon an ancient occult manuscript. In her pursuit of power, she inadvertently made a deal with a crossroads demon, trading her soul for unparalleled charisma and cunning. The pact transformed her into a captivating force, allowing her to manipulate and deceive effortlessly.

Personality

Felicia MacLeod's like that friend who always seems to have the perfect line to smooth things over, but behind the charm, she's got this devious streak a mile wide. She's the person at the party who effortlessly glides between conversations, leaving a trail of intrigue and manipulation in her wake.

She's got this knack for making people think they're the most important person in the room, all while secretly plotting her next move. Selfish? Oh yeah, it's all about Felicia and what she wants. She's not one to shy away from stepping on a few toes (or more) to get what she desires.

And then there's the evil bit. It's not the twirling-mustache kind, but more of a subtle, dark energy that hangs around her. She finds a sort of twisted joy in causing chaos, and it's hard to tell where the charming act ends and the genuine malevolence begins.

But here's the kicker – despite all this, she's the kind of person you might not suspect. She'll share a laugh, clink glasses, and all the while be weaving a web of schemes and secrets.

Devilish siblings

Crowley and Felicia – it's like a demonic version of a dysfunctional family reunion. They're bound by blood, yeah, but it's not all hugs and sibling love. Picture two scheming demons, each with their own agenda, teaming up for the sake of Hellish shenanigans.

Crowley, being the big shot in Hell, spots Felicia's potential for causing mayhem, and suddenly, they're this dynamic duo of darkness. It's all about mutual benefits – they scratch each other's demonic backs to climb the infernal ladder.

But let's not kid ourselves. Beneath the surface, it's a game of one-upmanship. They've got this unspoken rivalry, always eyeing each other suspiciously. Felicia's got her own plans, and Crowley, being the sly demon he is, is always playing chess with Hell's pieces.

Their chats probably sound like a mix of devilish banter and subtle threats. Deep down, there's this weird demon camaraderie, but it's fragile. In Hell, alliances are as stable as a house of cards in a tornado.

So, yeah, they're your typical sibling drama, just add in demonic powers and a sprinkle of Hellfire, and you've got the relationship between Felicia and Crowley. It's like family game night in the underworld, but with more backstabbing.

The Squirrel and The Moose

Felicia and the Winchesters – it's like this never-ending rollercoaster of trust issues and mind games. At first, she waltzes in all charming and helpful, making them think she's on Team Winchester.

Thing is, the Winchesters ain't no rookies when it comes to the supernatural. They've seen it all – demons, angels, you name it. But somehow, Felicia manages to pull the wool over their eyes. It's like they know she's up to no good, but her charm game is so strong that they can't resist giving her the benefit of the doubt.

They catch a whiff of her shenanigans, start connecting the dots, but before they know it, Felicia's thrown in a witty one-liner or flashed that killer smile, and bam! They're back to square one, questioning if maybe she's not as bad as they thought.

It's a love-hate thing – they know she's trouble, but there's this weird respect for her skills. Even when they catch her in the act, it's like she's got this supernatural charisma that makes them second-guess their own instincts.

Powers:

Felicia's demonic nature enhances her natural charm, making her exceptionally charismatic. She can effortlessly manipulate and influence others, bending them to her will through the sheer force of her presence.

Her powers extend to the realm of mental manipulation. Felicia can plant suggestions, create illusions, and alter perceptions, playing mind games to further her agenda.

Like many demons, Felicia has telekinetic abilities, allowing her to move objects with the power of her mind. This power comes in handy for both subtle manipulation and more overt displays of supernatural prowess.

As a demon, Felicia is ageless and immune to mortal ailments. She doesn't age and is impervious to conventional forms of harm.

Felicia has access to occult knowledge and demonic secrets. This knowledge aids her in crafting dark rituals, forming alliances with other supernatural entities, and staying one step ahead of her adversaries.

Like other demons, Felicia can transform into a cloud of black smoke, allowing her to move swiftly and undetected. This ability is useful for infiltration and escape.

Her demonic form grants her increased physical strength, enabling her to overpower humans and confront other supernatural beings.

And lastly Felicia can teleport from one location to another instantaneously, facilitating her ability to appear and disappear at will.

hope you guys like her!

@missstrawbs2001 @jackiequick @blueboirick @cherrysft @meiramel @gaminggirlsstuff

[cyansadness]

New Romantics

Anastasia 'Ana' Davis has been uprooted three times in her life. The first time, it was 1942, and her parents decided to immigrate from Bogota, Colombia to Southern California. She was 4. 

The second time, it was 1945 and her parents had passed away. She was shipped to an orphanage about 20 miles from Rydell, California. She was 7.

The third time, it was 1946 and she was just adopted by Thomas and Bianca Davis, the richest couple in Rydell. They wanted kids but after a bad miscarriage, Bianca couldn't have any. She thought Ana was sweet. She was eight.

From 8 to 16, Ana assimilated. She learned English, stopped speaking Spanish, and acted like the perfect daughter. Ranked third in her class for academics, cheerleader, tutored struggling students for free, was dating football player, Wally Winslow, and was best friends with resident golden boy, Buddy Aldridge. She was the definition of perfect. 

But even perfection starts to crack. And those cracks just keep growing when Ana gets assigned to tutor Nicholas 'Nico' Barrera for English. 

Nicholas 'Nico' Barrera was a T-Bird. He was Cuban and lived with his mother Isabel and his older sister Elena. He was smart, no doubt about it, but it's hard to try when no one seems to care.

All of a sudden, Mr. Daniels seemed to care when he assigned Ana Davis, princess of Rydell, to tutor him. 

Every Tuesday and Thursday, at 2:15, Ana and Nico were in the library. Studying, learning about everything, including each other. Sparks flew and Ana panicked. 

This boy made her feel important, special, that she was something more than her family's name. But they could never be with each other, it would never work. 

They thought until Wally broke up with Ana and showed up the next day with Rosemary on his arm. So Ana let herself fall for a boy that could ruin everything she had worked so hard to maintain and she couldn't care less.

Nico and Ana managed to stay a secret for about two months. It wasn't an easy two months. The only people who knew were the T-Birds, Cynthia, and Olivia. They were always careful, making sure no one would know.

You can't plan everything. After unknowingly getting caught by Dot, the next day, Ana arrived at school to a vandalized locker and rumors spread around that Ana slept with the entire Rydell High football team. 

So when your reputation is up in flames, you can either run away, embrace it, or give them something new to talk about.

So when you're forced to be perfect for the last 8 years of your life, all that anger bubbles up and it has to go somewhere at some point, right? 

Yeah, after a rather brutal fight and a two week suspension, Ana was a new person. A person who was still one of the smartest girls at Rydell but also a person who didn't care about impressing anyone anymore.

Come the 1954-1955 school year at Rydell High brings more drama than Ana and Nico could have prepared for. With drama, comes a group of girls who are sick of how Rydell works against them.

So the Pink Ladies were born.

Anastasia 'Ana' Davis ~ played by Rachel Zegler 

"I am not just somebody's girlfriend, I am Anastasia Davis, I don't need his jacket or anybody's jacket to prove my worth in this world. "

Nicholas 'Nico' Barrera ~ played by Marcel Ruiz

"It's the first day Ana. How did you land in McGee's office on the first day?"

Bianca Davis ~ played by Brianne Howey

"Sweet Pea, I love you but you gotta start playing nice. Think about your future."

Thomas Davis ~ played by Scott Porter

"I do hope this year, you will try to salvage the little good reputation you have."

Elena Barrera ~ played by Melissa Barrera

"Please get your head out of your ass before I hit you with this pan."

Isabel Barrera ~ played by Justina Machado

"Mijo, I like her. She's always been good for you." 

Alexander 'Xander' Carmine ~ played by Grant Gustin

"You want a drink?" 

Lynette Allen ~ played by Aja Naomi King

"Just like your mother, always looking for trouble."

~~~~~

here's the new official intro for new romantics. i did post the original about 6 months before the first chapter came out and there have been a lot of changes in the plot so i deemed it necessary to renew the intro

as always, hope y'all enjoy

@cherrybb-ily here is the first look at your least favorite character in my book

[auxlley]

Flower Beds - Xiao x Reader

Genre - Slow burn, flirting, potential romcom with some serious undertones. WIP.

You never planned to do much with your Vision, the power of Anemo was nice, you don't deny it, but you weren't the type to utilize it in your life. You didn't fight, you didn't even consider yourself a traditional traveler. You were just a foreigner.

Originally from Mondstadt as part of Ordo Favonius, you had packed up your belongings and set off to new sights for the sake of your mental and physical health. The air in Mond was crisp but it got so dusty with the abundance of winds and Anemo users, so you said fuck it and set off to wherever the roads took you. And to Liyue they took you. You had a farm in Liyue off to the outskirts, about a days walk to the Harbor. It was quaint, quiet, and perfect. And you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. You were just a regular citizen living in Teyvat these days who had no intentions of picking up a sword or bow again. The calluses on your hands had eased away, you no longer reached for your sword as an unknown sound filled the empty space, and more importantly, you no longer had to answer to an authority that didn't believe in the freedoms the nation of Mondstadt preached about. You were free.

It was easy to earn mora, to find a stable job and inherit an abandoned farm, luck was on your side. You grew Liyue specialities along with some Mond specialties that garnered you the most profit. In lay-mens terms, you were set and content with the farm life, you never had to worry about fighting, drama or having to patch yourself up from patrols and attacks. That is until one night you were met with a bloodied figure laid face-down in your Qingxin flowerbeds.

Instinct drove you to act quickly; rushing back inside the main house on the farm, you quickly snagged a Mondstadt-based first-aid kit from the kitchen cupboard and ran back outside to the individual who now owed you a good amount of mora considering he not only crushed four flowerbeds but got blood splattered across two more.

"I don't know if you're conscious but if you're alive please fucking breath." You muttered as you carefully turned the man around to lay on his back. He was covered in blood, but you couldn't find any open wounds or fractures to pinpoint where it came from. Scanning the man, you got to what should have been his face, but rather than typical skin and flesh was just a black Nuo mask that glowed a faint green. You reached a hand out to remove the mask but the moment your fingers grazed the mask, it shimmered out of existence revealing a face clean of blood save for the few dots and small splatters along his jaw.

You knew this face. Rather, you've heard of him. He went by several names, the most common among them was Xiao. Many recalled him by the title of Conqueror of Demons, others called him the Guardian Yaksha. You first heard of him by the name of Atalus, the Golden-Winged King.

Dark medium-length hair with teal undertones were dried with blood and clung to his face, his eyes closed as if he were fast asleep rather than hurt, and his lips were parted slightly. A fuckin' mouth-breather, you thought to yourself.

You sighed and decided the best thing to do was wake up the deity who decided to take a nap on your flowers. Once again reaching out to shake his shoulder, he suddenly groaned in what seemed like annoyance before turning on to his side to face away from you. "Do not bother me," he muttered between yawns.

Eyes wide and letting out a scoff, you pulled him back with a force once forgotten and felt the frown on your brows deepen. "You're in my damn flowers getting your blood everywhere! The least you could do is get up and sleep on the dirt path."

"It's not my blood." He muttered meekly.

"As if that makes it any better!"

Feline-like eyes that seemed to glow like gold looked directly at you, a stern frown present and sending a shiver down your spine. He sighed before sitting up, tilting his head several ways to stretch his shoulders. "You know who I am?" He asked as he rolled his shoulders, his gaze not returning to yours.

"I do." You responded as you began to close up the first-aid kit you apparently never needed.

"Then what are your wishes? Tell me now so I can leave."

"Huh? I don't have any wishes."

"I find that hard to believe. Every mortal has wishes. This is your chance to be selfish. What is it? Mora? A lover?" He began to observe his surroundings, taking in the farm before his eyes closed in on the now sullied flowerbeds, blinking as if the sight were commonplace. "Better crops, perhaps."

You sighed in annoyance as you snugged the first-aid kit under your arm, standing up to make your way back inside the main house. "The Conqueror of Demons doesn't grant wishes. Fix my flowers, that's several months profit you messed up."

Xiao watched you leave in what was probably a daze, hearing your response left him wide-eyed for a moment before he realized the mess he had gotten himself into.

"To think the day would come that I'd be reduced to a farmer's bidding. Ridiculous."

So I haven't written in a hot minute. The last fic I wrote was a spicy Scara fic that I uploaded on AO3 and since then my brain has flatlined on writing. But I wanna dabble on writing some soft stuff with my main, Xiao. Hope it pans out well.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Movie Actor/Star Masterlist

Act Naturally (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Phil has a quiet life studying film at university and some small dreams of being a director he’s mostly ignoring, but his whole life is turned upside down when his roommate signs him up for a game show and he meets the famously arrogant movie star Daniel Howell.

actor’s job - phillestatos

Summary: As an actor, Dan’s job is to fall in love. In order for him to do a good job in a film, he has to fall in love with the role he’s playing, he has to love what he’s doing, so it won’t feel like a job.  It’s just that it wasn’t Dan’s job to fall in love with his co-star.

A Movie Star in a Plant Shop (ao3) - zojnks

Summary: Dan's sick of being a movie star, Phil loves his flowers, and Dan needs a bouquet. You know what happens next.

Connect The Dots - phanimist

Summary: Dan’s a famous actor who gets a text from an unknown number one day, and Phil’s a movie reviewer who just wants to find his Adventure Time sweater. Dan has trouble connecting the dots when the unknown number continues to reply to him.

I’d Be Surprisingly Good For You (ao3) - amazingphiw

Summary: Phil Lester is an under appreciated film editor working behind the scenes. What happens when he gets the chance to talk to movie star Daniel Howell at a party?

/

Daniel Howell is a mediocre actor who only gets supporting roles and never the lead. What happens when a film editor he admires starts talking to him at a party?

In My Way - ineverhadmyinternetphase

Summary: Phil is less than impressed when Last Man Standing is getting filmed in his hometown. And he certainly doesn’t want anything to do with obnoxious, arrogant, so irritatingly perfect leading actor Daniel Howell.

It’s Your World, I’m Just Trying to Live in it - howellslester

Summary: Dan gets a text from a unknown number.

I Want It, I Got It (ao3) - Yiffandquiff (princesslexi763)

Summary: Phil Lester was a worker for the BBC in London. Working in the advertising department, he was content being alongside his friend and fellow coworker PJ during every shift. However, the BBC is temporarily being used as a film set for a new movie starring Hollywood ‘It’ star, Daniel Howell. Being stuck as an extra on the set, Phil finds it’s hard to ignore the famous star. And maybe, just maybe, Dan finds it hard to ignore Phil as well.

Notifications - notanannoyingfangirl

Summary: Indie movie actor, Phil Lester hadn’t meant to get under Dan Howell’s skin. In fact, they could both had could never have even dreamed of meeting other. So when a shitstorm erupts over twitter claiming that they’re a couple (who knows how that rumor started) and their agents desire to take advantage of the attention to launch a movie featuring the two of them… well the could both be happier.

Of Paparazzi and Succulents - botanistlester

Summary: Actor!Dan is running away from a mob of fans when he runs into a flower shop. There, he meets a quirky florist who has an absurd liking towards succulents, seeming to think they have feelings of their own.

Secrets are the Sweetest Things - minniti

Summary: Actor!Dan AU – When contract-ridden, “clean cut” Dan Howell is moved out to L.A. for his last movie shoot, the last thing he expects is to enter a relationship with a poor, drug dealing waiter. Be it from the tabloids, his controlling agent, or the authorities – the two must hide their secrets, especially if fate – if you even believe in that stuff – has other plans.

The World’s Gonna Know Your Name - howellslester

Summary: Dan is an actor who receives a text from a wrong number.

Unintended (ao3) - storming_wolf

Summary: Dan Howell is a model ready to start a career in acting. Phil Lester is a director ready to show he's more than capable of creating a serious drama film. After an interview Dan does sparks a muse in Phil's script, Phil casts Dan to play leading man. However, they start to develop feelings for each other and try to push their relationship aside for the sake of the movie and Academy Award season, but how far can they push it before it falls apart?

[bonafidecatladyrps]

Looking for RP Partners

So I just remade my blog into this. I used to be bonafidecatlady on all socials but it seems that it's starting to lose it's vibes so...

Please also refer to the 4 dots on my sidebar for my tags and pages.

• My name is Mary. 33 years old. Loved, lost and experienced shit.

• My OTP and wanted for ship (to no one’s surprise) is: my anya x your bill; I’m very open to others. This pinterest board has some of my other favorite face claims.

• Looking for partners 25+ ys old preferably. Very mature content. Smut involved. • My username is bonafidecatlady on discord. Add me away and say hi. Just let me know where you found me and your blog/personal server. • I’m Brazilian, don’t expect perfect English grammar or punctuation. • I 99% of the time will only play double ships {mumus}  (ill play a male and a female), unless ofc you’re a male only player. • plot twists give me life. feel free. • I don’t do long paragraphs. I usually do two tops so it gets the topic flowing and fast to reply. I’m a Vet irl so my time is kind of limited. • My favorite things to write: crime (bike gang, con artists, stuff like that), dystopian situations, fantasy (royalty based/witches), horror (vampires and werewolves) and lore based on tv/movies (pls don’t confuse this as me wanting to reenact them).  • I like me some good old romance but it definitely needs to have some bigger plot to aim for and I’m too anxious to play enemies to lovers for too long (but love it), fair warning lol • I enjoy adding random drama/surprises however big or small on both mine and my partner’s characters (w/ consent) • I enjoy being friends with the people I rp with, knowing just a tiny bit makes me more at ease to write as I like. • I love getting and giving excited messages, pinterests, playlists, quotes, etc and I love doing it too • I don’t mind fading to black but I like writing smut. • I like multiple plots in the same world/reality where the stories can interconnect. I also like creating “disposable/NPC” characters that make appearances just to enrich the plot.