#drawing them older was an interesting challenge

[jheqiawrites]

I drew them months ago, but I can finally share this image!

[celestialtarot11]

Future Spouse PAC—

Hi friends! Highly requested—a future pick a spouse reading. I appreciate all of you for being here <3 please like, comment and reblog to help this blog grow! Your presence means the world. It’s also 11:11 as I type this so for anyone who needs this here you go.

Pile 1: Hi there pile 1! Hope all is well in your world. For you I see a lot of prominence in your future spouse. They are physically well dressed, put together and appear luxurious. They can invest in quality brands and wear clothing that makes them feel good. I’m seeing someone wear a long tail coat and it emphasizes their height, because it’s slender and yet angular. This person has a great sense of fashion! I heard fashion icon. Some people may look to your future spouse for inspiration, and I heard designer. So perhaps they work closely with others in a artistic sense! They could be a Leo, Taurus or Capricorn. This is also someone who is generous with their energy and resources so if someone needs help they will offer it! Humble, has humility and carries themselves well. I have a feeling this is someone slightly older than you! They could have a pet as well, maybe a parrot for someone or a budgie. Cute! But back to their generosity I feel they give back to their community a lot, and may donate, raise funds for charity! There’s this soothing angelicness to them which people are drawn to, and their smile is also soft and beautiful! It’s something you’ll really like! I also see boyish rugged features for those who are interested in men. And for women I see chubby cheeks, fuller lips and lighter eyes! Your person can be on the taller side :) As for their hobbies may include hiking, skiing, camping! They may go with family as well. They could also be into religious studies like studying different religions, cultures and traditions. They may not necessarily be religious, but study the bible or Quran for example. They just love to learn. Thank you pile 1 for being here! Means a lot to me. Hope you like comment and reblog <3

Pile 2: Hi there pile 2! Haha for you I got a very elusive slippery energy from your future spouse. I feel as though in their younger years they were really hot. They were a know it all. They were charming, devious and funny. And they still are! They’ve certainly still got it going. I do feel as though when you meet them you might pick up on those traits from their past and stay away—but this person has identified that they want a deeper commitment here with you. They have grown a lot and instead of chasing cat and mouse, they are confident in attracting the right person. They don’t want games anymore, I’m hearing they don’t have time for it. So your person could be very busy and on the go often, like traveling to other states or places for work. It requires them to constantly be moving. I feel as though there is an element of long distance here but not necessarily forever! They can be foreign, as well. Different culture, values, traditions. But I think this’ll draw them in even more to you and vice versa. I feel this person has worked their way up to developing self respect and esteem, so they may be a bit intimidating at first. I see honey blonde hair, fair to tan skin, and tall figure. They can have toned figures and look as if they work out. They may be into sports of some kind that challenges their body. They need to get that energy out, i feel as though they’re like electricity, constantly sparking and looking to connect to a source. They can be scattered and flighty because their job is demanding of them, but they mean well. They’re funny, confident, boisterous, and charming! Very smooth with their word so expect them to charm your pants off ;) They may have black hair and keep it neatly trimmed! For men I see a neat beard and it isn’t long, it’s not a stubble either. It defines their face very well and I feel they have intense eyes. For women I see brown hair, thinner lips and green eyes! Or just lighter eyes in general. I feel they’re known as muscle mommy 😭 because their body is toned. Thank you pile 2 for being here! Any likes comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Pile 3: Okay right away pile 3 Electric by Alina Baraz began to play! Lol hope your day has been well. I feel as though this person is intense, stern and firm at first. I heard CEO. What kind of wattpad love story is this? Lmfao im hooked. Anyway, this person could have a higher position in your job and I do feel how you meet is they help you out. They may offer you a position, or talk to you, and somehow it slips out that you’re struggling. Im seeing two people meet for coffee in the lounge room and hitting it off, and its unexpected. I feel you two may expect a purely professional relationship but no��this is something deeper. There’s this feeling of intimacy and closeness with you two, like you two saw each other a long time ago and now you’re meeting again. Very familiar and comforting. Feels like 4h synastry! I love that. I do feel as though your future spouse is a provider and doesn’t mind if you want to take the reigns in bed too ;) they are skilled I should mention. I also feel they are someone who tries to understand what their emotions are and what its telling them. So you can help them, maybe you understand emotional processing better and can guide them. They’ll guide you through the material world and offer insights, and help you feel stable financially. I almost feel as though you’re the spiritual one and they are in touch with the material realm. So they are stunned when they hear of your spiritual journey and not only that but attracted. They feel tempted by what they don’t understand. Speaking of temptation—theres a lot. Psychologically it’s tempting to fall into old patterns and I feel as though this connection is helping you release that, but also intimately the temptation is there! Very strong. “Darker than the ocean, deeper than the sea.” I keep hearing that from the song and it describes the depth of your connection when you two meet. I also hear, “touch me, your electric baby.” So you two will definitely feel it. Its unmistakable! A little work romance never hurt anyone LOL that’s what I heard. Someone is saying it like a hushed whisper so I feel ya’ll will physically get closer to talk to one another—it’s an unconscious action yet so intimate. There’s a lot of unspoken tension here between you two. Anyways pile 3 enjoy <3 I hope this helped you! And please don’t forget to like comment and reblog to share the love.

Extra

Paid readings 🤍

[secretsofafangirll]

video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment. 

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

//

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

[majikkulu]

━━ ❝ masterlist ❞

these are my personal observations and may not resonate with everyone. please take them with a grain of salt, as i'm not a professional astrologer! :))

♱ gemini risings with lilith in the first house or conjunct their asc often appear younger than their age, which can lead to past discrimination or exclusion. their youthful look might make it hard for them to be taken seriously or voice opinions, and they might have been teased for their appearance. as they age, they may receive comments about their agelessness and notice that people are hesitant to engage with them in conversations. they might also be seen as intimidating, standoffish, or even shy, and could be perceived as having a serious, sad or "resting bitch face."

♱ your saturn's sign, house, and degree can indicate people who impact you and teach important life lessons. these individuals often stay in your life long-term, offering both support and challenges. for example, my saturn is in cancer in the 2nd house at a virgo degree. many of my close friends and family have cancer, virgo, or taurus placements, and each has taught me something valuable. even though some cancers have betrayed me, those experiences were to shape me fr. take my bestie, who has saturn in cancer in the 11th house at a pisces degree. i’m a pisces with a strong 11th house stellium. i’ve noticed similar vibes with my favorite artists too.

♱ people with venus sextile saturn deeply value being appreciated and seen by others. they often seek long-term, serious relationships and handle challenges with maturity. they give their all and show great respect to their partners, often attracting or being drawn to older partners. those who meet them usually find them unforgettable.

♱ people with venus trine pluto crave intense, passionate love. their deep feelings are often transformative, with even short-term relationships leading to significant personal growth. they have a magnetic presence that's both striking and sometimes intimidating, and they connect on a profound, soul-deep level, drawing others in with their powerful emotional intensity and mysterious looks.

♱ people with jupiter in the 5th house are incredibly charming and approachable, drawing many people to them. they often connect easily with children and might have a natural talent for engaging with them. these individuals likely experience numerous crushes and pursue a wide range of hobbies with enthusiasm. they also have a talent for creative pursuits like music, art, or dancing.not to mention, their love life is often quite fulfilling.

♱ people with sun square ascendant may struggle with self-confidence and self-presentation early in life. however, as they grow older, they often develop a stronger sense of self and learn to embrace their unique qualities. over time, they become more confident and self-assured, appreciating who they are and how they express themselves.

♱ mars in taurus can take a long time to get genuinely upset. they tend to be slow to anger but can become easily frustrated. their anger is usually kept under control, but when it finally erupts, it can be intense and difficult to manage.

♱ chiron in the 9th house may struggle with faith and frequently question their beliefs. they might face challenges in school, but these often improve with age. some may have been pressured into church as children, contributing to their journey of exploration and self-discovery. as kids, they might have followed others' expectations instead of pursuing their own interests, leading to a continual quest for personal understanding and truth.

♱ virgo risings have great muscles and well-defined bodies.

♱ i've noticed that natives with a 4th house stellium often come from big families or have many siblings. they typically have a strong connection with their family, frequently staying in touch and valuing their relationships. their family can have a significant influence on them, playing a central role in their lives and shaping their sense of identity.

♱ i’ve noticed that individuals with pluto in the 10th house often receive mixed reactions from the public. they tend to be both admired and disliked, with their reputation evoking strong, polarized feelings. even if they’re not actually a “player,” their public persona might give off that vibe

♱ a lot of sagittarius moons, moon-jupiter aspects or moon in sag degrees are incredibly playful and flirty. they thrive on socializing and enjoy being the center of attention. their vibrant energy and enthusiasm often make them the life of the party, drawing people in with their lively and engaging personality.

♱ what i've noticed is that natives with cancer rising or the moon in the 1st house often attract a lot of popularity and are well-liked by many. they typically have an easy time connecting with others and are true social butterflies. females with these placements, in particular, often attract a lot of attention from men, thanks to their bubbly, fun personalities and their attractive, approachable appearance. on a negative note, i’ve observed that some people with these placements can also display deceitful, lying, or manipulative behaviors. (pls don’t come for me!)

[mercurianchild]

hey love! what does a Plutonian chart look like? i'm not sure if I have one. how would that affect me?

Strong influence of Pluto…

What a strong Plutonian influence of Pluto in the chart could look like:

Pluto in the 1st, 4th, 7th and 10th house

Pluto aspecting inner planets (Mercury, Venus and Mars)

Pluto strongly aspecting the moon and ascendant, especially tight orbs

TW: mentions of s*x and death!!

Being Pluto dominant or having a strong influence of Pluto means that transformations, ego deaths, feelings of death and rebirth will accompany you for a life time. From my experience, this will be especially harsh in the childhood, youth and maybe in your early adult years. As time passes and as you get older, you might develop self care habits and safety mechanisms to protect yourself and your inner peace. Practising self love, meditation and mindfulness could be important to these individuals, as they could underestimate their beauty and their outstanding personality.

I’ve also seen that most traumatic events happen in the childhood, youth or early adulthood. But that’s just my observation.

Feelings of being deeply misunderstood rise while you are young and this feeling might follow you for years. Constantly searching for someone to understand your complex mind and depth of emotions. These people could benefit from searching for a valve to turn pain, bad experiences and any form of built up emotion into art. Be it writing, drawing, making music…

A reoccurring theme for Plutonians is sexuality. There may be blockages in regards of the own sexuality or experiencing it, but once they overcome this, they literally start to bloom in that area. This could turn into being hungry for power in general (or simply being turned on by overpowering the partner) or in being lascivious. They can be pretty much extreme and freaky in bed, actually. Being intimate never gets boring with them.

I know, this is what you read everywhere, but plutonic people are deeply magnetic and will catch your eye with their intense aura. Even if they are not seen as traditionally beautiful, these natives exude attractiveness and charisma. You just can’t ignore them and they will even stand out in a crowd. BUT! A lot of them don’t have the sex appeal like (for example) Megan Fox has. A lot of them have such an innocence to their appearance, but if you take a closer look you’ll see that they’re like fallen angels.

From my experience, plutonic people will have a deep connection to spirituality or the occult and a profound interest in psychology (for good and bad). They usually get into these things after really hard times in their life. They will attract jealousy and hate like flies, unfortunately and this could take a toll in their self esteem. Even strangers tend to be very competitive and mean to them in some way, because most people simply feel challenged by their presence.

Dear plutonic people,

you ALL are wonderful and you deserve so much more. I feel for every single one of you and I hope you will find true happiness and self acceptance. You’ve been through so much and you deserve the world for all that. I’m sending you all the love you might need right now or later! 🩶

[writersblockedx]

Something Inappropriate

Pairing - Professor! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - When Spencer Reid bumps into one of his students while she's highly intoxicated, he takes it upon himself to get her home safely. Warnings - Student/teacher relationship, drinking, very slight implication of sexual assault Words - 1.9K

A/n - Thinking about making this into a little mini-series so let me know if you like this!

masterlist

It was Friday night and every student was somewhere in town. Groups of them crowding the bar, ordering shots or vodka sodas. Whatever was cheapest and whatever could get them drunk enough.

It just so happened that this certain Friday night, Y/n had gulped on too many drinks. It was barely 1am before she was stumbling to the dance floor, her friend's hand interlocked. Her intoxicated dance was enough to draw some attention. Some men eyeing her in the corner, some more girls wanting to join in and a man she knew at the bar: Professor Spencer Reid. One of her lecturers. Her favourite lecturer in fact.

Y/n didn't really register it in her drunken state until she wandered up to the bar and spotted him closer up. He was sipping on a something with coke, stood beside a man she didn't recognise: broad-shouldered and tough. "Professor?" She called with a sly smile rising to her lips.

Spencer turned: a pleasant surprise. "Y/n, hi, it's good to see you." He returned the smile, observing the girl's obvious drunken state.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect to see you here...no offence." She giggled drunkenly. Her professor was, obviously, much older. He seemed the type to enjoy a book on a Friday night - not a bar.

Spencer pointed to the man next to him, "It's erm- Morgan dragged me here." Said man turned to face Y/n, a cheeky glint already settled in his eye.

"Are you one of the doctor's students, hm?" He asked.

"I am," She answered, "Do you work at BAU too?"

Morgan shook his head, "Used to."

"Well, it was nice bumping into you both," She sent them a final smile, "See you Monday morning, sir." She directed such at Spencer before turning to face the bartender who was awaiting to take her order.

And once she grasped it, returning to her friends with a stumble in her steps, Morgan glanced back at Reid. The boy knew Morgan long enough to know what was coming: what that glint in his eyes meant. "She's interesting," He commented, observing Spencer. "Maybe I need to switch career paths."

Spencer swallowed hard on his drink, "She's my student, Morgan." The other man only shrugged at such response; nothing in the sensual sense ever seemed off-putting to Morgan. But Spencer, well he had many lines he had yet to cross. And Y/n was one of them.

His eyes gazed over to the girl who was giggling at something one of her friends had said. She was beautiful - she would give Morgan that. But, as much as that was the case, a relationship further than academic would be... inappropriate. No matter what Spencer might have thought about the girl. Even now, as he glanced at her from afar, she seemed nothing but carefree, captivating, alluring. And he couldn't let his mind go there.

An hour or so had passed when Spencer finally convinced Morgan that they should go home. He wandered outside, making sure Morgan got into his taxi all right before the front door to the bar swung open. Y/n stepped out, attempting to grasp a single cigarette from the packet. She had yet to notice her professor watching her. Once she had one between her fingertips, another challenge arrived: lightening it.

"Need some help there?" Spencer wandered up to her, shoving his hand into his trouser pockets.

If she were sober, she probably would have stopped what she was doing. Smoking in front of one of her preferred professors wasn't exactly the view she wanted to give. "Erm- I-" She sighed, giving in and handing the lighter over to Spencer, "Yes."

He took it, creating a block from the wind with one hand and letting the fire ignite before the girl was able to inhale the smoke into her lungs. "Thanks," She muttered before he took a step away.

"You shouldn't smoke you know," He could go on a ramble - but he wouldn't.

She shrugged, "I know, I just- I can't find my friends, I don't know where they've gone." She explained. "I thought they might be out here."

Spencer looked around the pavement they were standing on: deserted. "But?"

"But, they're not." She huffed as the smoke exhaled from her lips. She stumbled as she took a step, "I think- I think they went to some club." Her head banged - it was all beginning to become blurred.

And at her words, Spencer's concern intensified. "And they left you here?" He questioned.

Her eyes fell to the floor as she attempted to think, "I didn't want to go." She told him. "I shouldn't be- I can't-"

Before she could get out her drunken slurs, a hand came to her shoulder, "Do you have a way home?"

Y/n found herself effortlessly staring into the gaze of her behavioural analyst professor. "I erm- I walk." She answered him as if he had willed the very words from her lips.

Spencer decided then and there; he wasn't having this. If not for the very feeling inside him that compelled him to take care of her, it was the fact she was a young girl walking alone at night. Quite frankly, he taught some of the men at this college - he didn't trust them. "Come on," He spoke as he wandered over to his car.

Yet, Y/n stayed where she was, "What?" She couldn't even think this was a possibility.

"I'll drive you home," He said as he stopped, just by the driver's door. "Don't worry, I've only had two drinks. I just want to make sure you get home safe."

She shook her head. As tempting as a drive home with her attractive professor was, she couldn't possibly. "I'm fine, honestly-" She took a step, tripping on her own two feet.

Luckily, Spencer caught her before her face hit the stone concrete. Her fingers gripped his wrists as he took a hold of her. They didn't let go - not straight away. A moment passed as Y/n raised her head as to meet her professor's gaze. "What were you saying again?" He made the point of making.

She let go and straightened her back, "Are you sure don't mind?"

His smile became one of empathy, "I'd rather do this than wonder what could happen to you alone."

And so, without another thought, she slipped into the passenger seat of Spencer's car. A part of her wanted to be home, wanted to be in her bed. The other, however, liked the idea of being here...with him. "It's erm, Rose court, the student accom." She informed. "It's probably only a five-minute drive."

Spencer thought about making the point that even if it was an hour's drive, he would have made it at that very moment. He wanted her safe. Maybe because she was a brilliant student, maybe because he was concerned, or maybe because something else was urging his actions. Something of which the man had had a conscious decision to push to the side.

Though, even in a five-minute drive, Y/n had been lulled into sleep. The safety of someone she knew, the comfort of the leather car seat and the way the drinks had made her drowsy. Her eyelids had grown heavy and she didn't put up a fight against it. 

When the car engine stopped, Spencer looked over at her. For a few seconds, he thought about not waking her. She was so peaceful, tranquil, with no worries, nothing but her own dreams. "Y/n," He whispered. Nothing. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Y/n, hey, we're here."

Slowly, her eyelids started to flutter open and she found her view of her professor. It was all real. It wasn't just an intoxicated dream. "Sorry," She murmured in response.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," He spoke before exiting the car and going round as to open the passenger door for the girl. "Are you okay to walk?"

She slipped her legs out, "I'm fine yeah."

Famous last words.

The moment her heels hit the concrete pavement, she wobbled right into Spencer's hold. "Okay, I'll walk you up to your room." He decided then and there, without even consulting the girl on such.

"I can walk up to my room, professor." She argued.

But all she was met with was a raised brow of uncertainty, "You can't get out of the car without falling. How do you think stairs are going to go?" That was something she chose not to argue with.

She started wandering up to the first door, searching through her bag for the keys. She swayed until she felt an arm wrap around her waist. Her body steadied. Her eyes found Spencer again. The subtle touch was making even her drunken, confident self nervous. "Is this okay?" He checked when he observed her unsure body language.

The girl swallowed, "Hmh." And then she looked away, finally grasping her keys.

Spencer watched as she stumbled over to the door, not daring to let his touch leave the girl. She slipped the key into the door and they were over the first hurdle. And then, stairs. "Let's go slow, okay?" Spencer soothed her through.

She gave nothing but an incoherent nod as she followed Spencer's steps. "Which one is it?" He questioned.

Y/n was pointing to a door across from the stairs, "B..B35." She informed as Spencer guided her to the door and she started looking for the apartment door key. "I've got it...somewhere." In the midst of her search, a thought came to mind. Her movement stopped and she glanced up over at Spencer, "Can I ask you something actually? While I'm, you know, erm-"

"Drunk?" Spencer chuckled as he finished her sentence.

"I mean, yeah." She couldn't deny such a fact. "I mean, I always wondered why you left the BAU? You always talk about it in lectures and it just- you talked about it with a lot of love." Spencer's smile faltered at the thought of nostalgic memories. "Sorry, if that's intruding, I just, I-"

"No, no, it's fine," Spencer's words were quick to ease the girl's worrisome thoughts. "I suppose I needed a break, a lot of things happened, I needed time away from the field to process them I guess." He explained, wondering if the girl would even remember any of this by the morning. Would she even know who dropped her off home?

She hummed, "Makes sense I guess." And like that, with no judgement or opinion, she went back to find her apartment key. "Here,"

Y/n swung the door open to her dorm, "Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Spencer checked.

"I think I can just about make it to my bed," She joked as she leaned against the doorframe. "Thank you, by the way." He didn't have to do what he did. Most professors wouldn't have done. But he, he was different.

His hands found their way back into the deep depths of his pockets as he replied, "I don't just have a responsibility to teach, but also a duty of care, I'm always here to make sure you're okay."

And he would be. For her, definitely. There was something ever so alluring about the girl. Something he would force himself to ignore. Something he wouldn't act on. Something which was inappropriate. 

[seawing-vibes]

Decided to fill out a template from @/falling-skyzz I feel normal about . The dragons ! List of characters & design & dynamic thoughts under the cut <3

Also If anyone else fills out thus template feel free to send me the post,, I would love to see other people filling this out!!! I love templates !!

Secretkeeper & Moon • I understand theres a lot of reasonable hate for Secretkeeper but!!! I find her & moon to be a very fascinating pair! To make a long ass thought short, I think Secretkeeper is the embodiment of “product of her environment & deeply traumatize & projecting”. I think she genuinely really loves moon but obviously expresses that through being “”protective””. But I think shes genuinely a character with a capacity for change & realizing the autonomy Moon has over her own powers. Also from the perspective of Moon I think her arc around her relationship with her mom could be really interesting, especially as Secretkeepers authority becomes challenged in Moons life & she has to confront the bullshit her mother has put her through. Overall very very interesting pair I think about them a lot.

Design Note: Secretkeeper is duller in color than Moon & has less stars due to lack of moon light on the island! Also the scales around her mouth are almost completely black, making her mouth barely visible, giving her the name “Secretkeeper” as she “has no mouth to tell others secrets.”

Tsunami & Starflight • Just one of my fav siblings! This specific illustration is from the Arena Scene in Dragonet Prophesy! I really really love Tsu & Starflights dynamic of looking up to eachother & their development together just. So neat!

Design Note: Starflight has very few constellation marks in this illustration as he hasnt spent much time under moonlight quite yet!

Shark & Abalone • One of my more out-there ships! I based this on the thought that Shark was once close with Abalone (cough. Husbands.) and that relates to why he was willing to give Tortoise a lunch-break from watching the eggs. He already saw someone close to him die from being overworked to watch the clutch, he didn’t want to watch another dragon die from his sisters selfishness. I could write an essay on these two I swear

Deisgn Note: Shark is based on a tiger shark & abalone is based on real abalones! hes one of my fav designs here

Six-Claws & Ostrich • He’s just a sweet dad! the little we see of him he seems to really love her & vice-versa <3 they’re just neat

Design Note: Six-Claws is based on a king cobra & is a specific sub-“species” of hooded Sandwings ! Burn found his hood mutation & six-claws super interesting

Tamarin & Pike • My fav background friendship! They’re just fun. I like Pike just chillin out around Tamarin & describing flower colors to her to the best of his ability (she just likes to hear him ramble about a shared interest)

Design Notes: I updated how I draw Tamarins eyes to properly resemble a blind-born dragon ! Also Pike’s deisgn got some yellow in it and I really like it <3

Whiteout & Thoughtful • I just think they’re neat!! They just seem like a sweet pair love them

Design Note: none really! Just experimenting with a rando Thoughtful design that I tossed together for my “ships tier list”

Tsunami • Its just her :) my fav dragon <3!!! I definitely dont think she upholds the “princess” title once she gets older, her only link to the throne is by Coral insisting monthly visits but Tsu otherwise wouldn’t be any interesting in royal life I would imagine

Design Note: Shes caught a waaururrghh something im going bonkers I cant remember what fish that is and my reference photo seems to have dissipated into the cosmos

Anemone • I LOVE HER. SO MUCH ! Anemone haters BACK OFF!!!! Her relationship to her powers is so fucked man. Something you’d think would give her power & control is just a key by which others use to manipulate and abuse her like . Man :( shes literally never had any autonomy over her own identity & intermingled her powers into her identity So Much only for that aspect of herself to also be revealed to be a facade for someone else’s desires like. GUH I love her so much I hope shes having a good day I dont care what anyone says she deserves to be a brat and I support her for it

Design Note: none really! The stars in her talons are just metaphorical though

Snowflake & Snowfox • THE OGS!!!!!! MY FAVORITE PROBLEMATIC LESBIANS <3 Ahhh remember in the early days when they were considered the #1 most problematic ship because they were gay and also evil. I love the evil lesbians so much they’re so shitty sorry Darkstalker Snowfox should’ve been queen I would’ve loved to see that go down it’d be so silly

Design Notes: Snowfox is based on an arctic fox shedding into their summer coat!! I know its p . Away from canon descriptors of her but it was sm fun to illustrate so shhh <3 Snowflake is just grey & blueish per-canon but shes sooo fun. love her.

Okay thats all here are the individual illustrations now !!!!! Because why not !!! If these aren’t transparent its all over

[glitter-stained]

The thing you need to remember about comics ages and timelines is that yeah it's messy there are retcons at stuff and it will never be clear and perfect. But also, DC has an interest portraying age the way they do. They have an interest in aging Barbara down so she can be Dick's pretty girlfriend with whom he raises a cute dog (and maybe a cute little family next perhaps?). They have an interest in trying to keep Tim young and draw him younger than he looks so they can milk his Robin's popularity for as long as possible. They have an interest in drawing Jason to make him look 40 when Bruce slits his throat, to make him look like a grown man fighting a teenager when fighting Mia even though they're the same age (though i mantain that mia is a little bit older), in having him call Tim kid even though they're the same age, in having him offer Tim a drink and Tim pointing out he's not legal when Jason isn't either. They have an interest in Jason looking older in Jim Aparo's art style in ADITF than he looked in precrisis or in 308. They have an interest in Steph magically looking older in War Games, where she gets tortured and brutally murdered, than the fun colourful round and much more youthful art from her Robin run. There are probably many more examples but bottom line it's not fucking innocent. DC knows how to hire artists that know how to draw children it's really not that hard. Characters who look young, characters who remind you that they are young, create more empathy; which is good when you want the public to continue to root for them, and bad when those characters challenge the status quo or that excess of empathy might create pushback after you decide to have them brutally murdered. DC can't have Batman grievously wounding and causing the death of his underage son, but if he looks as old as Batman? DC can't have Jason making a valid point about vigilantism being unsafe for Mia and relating with her with childhood sexual abuse subtext because it makes the heroes (and especially Batman) look bad, but if it looks like this is a grown ass man harassing a teenage girl, then it's clear who is the villain, it's okay, no problem. DC needs Barbara to be younger so the power dynamic between her and Dick fits their idea of a perfect little nuclear family much better and they can shove Barbara back into the role of Batgirl even though she is very much a girl rather than a woman. DC needs Steph to look older when she's tortured so they can be edgy without people being too horrified at them doing something horrifying, DC needs Jason and Steph to look older on the day they die because young looking= innocent which makes it so much harder to victim-blame. DC needs Mia to look younger than Jason so they can make it look like the good old "good victim/bad victim" dichotomy and even though that's not what the story is actually about, regardless of how much it disrespects Mia's character to do so. DC needs Jason to look ugly because it's harder to empathize with ugly people and it makes it so much clearer who is the bad guy and who is the good one, and it's a much easier dichotomy, so much more comfortable than challenging the whole mythos around which Batman is built. DC needs Barbara to be sexy in their traditional male-gaze way, because this is the audience they're trying to appeal to.

So like, I know that I'm nit-picking when I say "actually according to any and all logic Jason is younger than Tim by a couple of months and than Mia by around three years". Or when I say "they should bring back Dickbabs' old age difference" or even interact with Dickbabs as if they still have that difference and refuse to interact with Tom Taylor's version of the ship. I know comics are incoherent and the timeline is messy; but just because it's messy, just because it's always been, doesn't mean it's innocent. So I'm gonna keep nitpicking, and I'm gonna stay an annoying bitch, because I refuse to allow comics to manipulate me out of my empathy. And because I don't see everything and am very aware of how easy it is to be manipulated even when you're careful, I encourage you to add to this with things you've noticed whether it's in portrayal or in art about character age, appearance, or any other device they might use to manipulate our perception of the characters -and what narrative these resorts serve.

[sirenontheloose]

GOOD MORNING

Sometimes, a simple conversation changes everything.

GENRE: fluff??

After finishing your morning routine and sending your 5-year-old daughter off to daycare, you decide a coffee would be the perfect way to kickstart your day. Being a single mom has its challenges, sure your daughter is an angel, no doubt, but she can also be a handful at times. Even so, you wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.

As you step into the bustling cafe, you make a beeline for the counter, ordering your usual, a strong, bitter black coffee paired with a flaky croissant. While you wait, you scan the room. It’s packed, as expected since it is the beginning of the week, and you spot only one available seat. Grabbing your order, you carefully navigate your way toward the dark-haired woman sitting alone in the corner, her nose buried in a book.

"Good morning" you greet with a warm smile, trying not to sound too eager. As she looks up, you're taken aback by her beauty. She’s like something out of a dream, with dark, wavy hair framing her face like an angel caught in the soft morning light.

“Good morning�� she responds, her voice smooth and effortless. You catch yourself staring for a moment longer than you should but quickly pull it together, hoping you don’t come off as some kind of creep. It truly is a good morning, you think silently.

With a deep breath, you put on your best smile and ask, “Is this seat taken?”

“No, please, have a seat” she replies, flashing the kind of smile that makes your heart skip a beat. It’s enough to make you feel like you’ve just won the lottery, and you can’t help but return the smile.

“Thanks” you murmur as you sit down in front of her, trying to steady your pulse. It’s been ages since your heart raced like this, and you can’t decide if it’s because you’re getting older or if it’s simply her presence that has you feeling this way. She seems engrossed in her book, and you wonder if it’s too soon to strike up a conversation. But, then again, when will someone like this come around again? You figure there’s no harm in trying.

“What’s the book about?” you ask, glancing at the cover, "The Art of Not Giving a Fck*". She lifts an eyebrow, her lips curving into an amused smile, and you immediately wonder if you’ve asked the wrong question.

She chuckles lightly. “It’s about learning to pick and choose where and how you invest your energy” she explains, her voice warm with just the right amount of wit.

You nod thoughtfully. “That sounds like a really good read.”

“It is,” she agrees, setting the book down with a quiet thud. “Do you enjoy reading?” she asks, taking a slow sip of her tea. Her eyes flicker with genuine curiosity, and it makes you feel like she’s really interested in hearing your answer.

“I do,” you reply, finding your own rhythm. “But lately, it’s been mostly kids’ stories.” You let out a small hum as you think of your daughter’s favorite books.

Her interest piqued, she leans in slightly. “What kind of kids’ stories?”

You chuckle, delighted by her curiosity. “Oh, you know, the classics like Samuel Spoon, Big Blue Hood, and The Thirsty Crow. My daughter won’t go to sleep until I read at least one of them. She’s obsessed.” You say it with a fond smile, but your heart swells a little at the thought of your little one.

She offers a genuine smile while leaning forward, fully focused on the conversation. “How old is she?”

“She’s 5. She’s an angel, but a very energetic one. If you take your eyes off her, she’ll end up everywhere she shouldn’t be” you giggle, replaying moments when Y/D/N would run around. “She loves to draw too” you add, thinking about the time when your daughter brought home a drawing of the two of you from the daycare’s family portrait session. “Don’t get me started on her singing and dancing skills, though. She’s a born performer” you say with a wink, taking a sip of your drink.

Sophia watches you, smiling as you talk about your daughter for what feels like hours. Neither of you notices the cafe getting quieter until suddenly, your alarm goes off, pulling you back to reality. You glance at the time and your eyes widen. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, I must have talked too much.”

She laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s fine, I had fun.”

“I’m Y/N” you say, smiling as you extend your hand, realizing she knows everything about your daughter but not your name.

Sophia shakes your hand with a thoughtful smile. “I’m Sophia. Nice to meet you, Y/N.” You feel a little silly for not introducing yourself sooner.

“Nice to meet you too, Sophia” you say, not trying to be too cheesy, but her name just feels right as it rolls off your tongue. You let out a quiet sigh, realizing this little escape with a stranger is coming to an end. Offering a small smile, you add, “Well, I’ve got to pick up Y/D/N now. Thanks for listening to me talk so much about my daughter, Sophia.”

Sophia looks at you thoughtfully, then grins. “You’re welcome. She sounds like a sweetheart. And since I don’t think it’s fair that I know everything about your daughter and you don’t know anything about me or my dog, can I have your number?” She asks with a playful smile.

You can’t help but smile back, a little amused by her boldness. “Sure” you reply softly, your heart skipping a beat. It really is a good morning.

THE END

[throwaway-yandere]

FLAWLESS (Yandere!Various Genshin/Reader)

A/n: This is a complete interactive fic w/ CGs! There’s an HP system and 4 possible endings (yandere!Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Kazuha). This is my final fanfic and I really put my best effort into drawing and writing this. Have fun!!! Your choices matter so read the evidences properly and try not to get a bad ending hahaha. (Pls answer this poll after and feel free to send me memes about who you got hAHHAHA)

Unreliable Synopsis: (Danganronpa!Genshin AU) If this is your last dance as an idol, then you do not want it. No. You’ll make the real criminal sing instead.

CW: yandere themes, blood, murders (well duh ansy–), and brief mentions of suicide.

Kazuha frowned. "For (L/n) (Y/n), this whole ordeal must seem like a flawless crime."

"They don't know the murder weapon, the suspects— no nothing." Kaveh sighed.

Alhaitham interjected. "Indeed, but the real questions will begin in a moment."

Words punctured the air in nameless accusations. Each time people enter this room, only distrust looms acting both as a safety blanket and suffocating plastic. You stared at the people left. One, two, three, four, five... You clenched your fist, and all those fingers pointed back at you. 

The sixth. 

There are only six survivors left.

"Say, (L/n) (Y/n)." Your Akademiyan companions stared at you as Kunikuzushi’s smirk could practically be heard in his voice. "Where were you at the time of the murder?"

You gulped.

The Teyvat Akademiya. Home only to the most renowned student of their craft. The faculty carefully picks out select groups of students to be their new freshmen- and it can only be counted by hand how many had declined such a generous offer. It was a government state university, but it was also a golden ticket to knowing people from high places.  

Each student was known for contributing something in their fields of interest. In fact, both your adoptive siblings were alumni of this prestigious school. Your brother Aether was a famous "adventurer" (as he loved to call himself instead of an artifact-obsessed archeologist) whereas your sister Lumine was a remarkable swordswoman with a straight-edged track record. Even your older friends, Dainsleif, and a certain glasses-wearing individual you had forgotten the name of were graduates and now boast incredible resumes befitting of an Akademiyan. Each alumnus you've met wasn't someone any person with a head on their shoulders would dare disrespect. 

But that was not the reason for your schoolmates’ evident intimidation.

“Allow them a moment to process,” Alhaitham scoffed. “The Body Discovery Announcement was approximately 2 hours ago. It’s challenging for individuals from the entertainment industry such as them to comprehend complicated matters in a few seconds.”

“I would’ve fainted at your rare attempt at empathy if it wasn't obviously pointed,” Kaveh scoffed before turning to you with a soft stare. “(Y/n), don’t listen to these two, I’m sure we can find out if you’re innocent or not later.”

You gave a short nod of assent.

Tragically, murders had become the norm for college students like yourself. No one has flinched at Kaveh’s grim mention of a suspect lurking by and none had the insanity to deny what had occurred.

It began when you first woke up in one of the Akademiya's classrooms. You stirred awake on a desk near Shikanoin Heizou, the "Detective Prince". He was a famous figure, so you instantly believed him when he said you were both hauled into this location against your will. You were enthused by his infectious desire to uncover whatever was behind the “kidnapping” you found yourselves in. He told you not to worry, that despite the barred windows and inaccessible exits, you'd both "probably" find a way out.  As you both wandered around the area, you found fourteen other students (some familiar faces, some not as much). For a brief moment of hope, everyone thought escape was possible. 

That was until a certain cold-eyed puppet entered the scene.

A heartless puppet you’re sure was waiting for everyone just under that elevator.

“Is… Is this everyone?” You asked like a mouse, frightened as your eyes darted for any hints of twinned cyan hair. Nothing about your recent behavior had gone unnoticed.

Senior Faruzan is missing…

Yoimiya frowned, grabbing your hand for comfort. “(Y/n)…”

Kunikuzushi scoffed. “Enough of this dumb ohhh boohoo exhibit. Let’s go.”

The most mysterious of the bunch left for the stairs immediately, punching the button on the elevator to its ground floor. Yoimiya huffed, muttering complaints about Kuni’s behavior while the three other men followed her silently. No one took the stairs two at a time and walked at a snail’s pace. A clear indication that no one wanted this to occur. 

And just like in the previous cases, Kazuha’s eyes were on you the entire time but spoke nothing of this behavior.

The elevator door opened. You looked at the camera above it. If the Shogun's words are to be trusted, then the outside world is watching your every move like reality TV.

If that's the case, might as well give them a show.

Kunikuzushi stepped aside, royally ushering everyone— and specifically YOU— in.

“Idols first.”

Everyone entered the trial room. If the mood from earlier was tense, it is worse now that you’re inside. Stepping into the cold room makes the situation all the more real.

There is an execution waiting to happen, but without a hint if it’ll be “us” or “them”. Every bright person inside the room here had previously partaken in 4 of these court sessions by force. Since no one can exit the premises nor contact the outside world, the only key out was to kill and avoid getting caught. 5 people had attempted to commit murder, and considering how you’re still breathing, none of the “blackened” had succeeded in getting their way.

How… How did it come to this? 

You enrolled in the Akademiya in hopes that you'd also find the subtle clues as to why Aether went missing, this wasn't in your plan.

Getting roped into this killing “game” was on no one’s to-do list. You received an invitation to enroll in the Akademiya because of your stark idol career, although your siblings being famous alumni may have greatly increased your chances of receiving that privilege. You would’ve thrown that paper into the fire if you knew you’d get dizzy upon arriving in the Akademiya and will wake up in such a heartbreaking dilemma. Hearing from a grapevine, you discovered that Kaveh was invited for his architectural drafts, Kazuha for his poems and a bit of swordsmanship in his repertoire, Yoimiya for her firework shows, and Kunikuzushi?… You don’t know. But you are wholly aware as to why Alhaitham is here as your senior— you were there when he opened his letter after all.

The “mascot” is yet to make her entrance. So, as “obedient” students, you’ve uncomfortably shuffled to the places you were meant to stand. Bile rose inside your throat as you looked at the last five students excluding yourself circling the room— with Faruzan’s crossed-out portrait to your right while Kamisato Ayaka’s on your left. It would appear that most of the dead students were on your side and the closest breathing person next to you was Kunikuzushi, who was two photographs away.

Alhaitham, Amber, Tighnari, Ajax, Albedo, Kamisato Ayaka, You, Faruzan, Xiao, "Kunikuzushi", Kaveh, Cyno, Yoimiya, Layla, Yunjin, Kaedehara Kazuha, and Shikanoin Heizou.

The deceased faces had been crossed out in bright violet paint, a nauseatingly unsubtle reminder that only six remained. Yet, the one that was meant to sit towering above was missing.

“… Where’s The Shogun?” Kazuha asked.

“Ah, so you do have a voice. And here I was about to call you a cricket. I thought our poet lost his words, considering how the previous trial ended,” Kunikuzushi mocked, rolling his eyes. “Just wait and see.”

You sighed, hoping it was quiet enough for Kuni not to have heard it. 

The last trial broke everyone’s spirits and sense of camaraderie the most. Before trials, the puppet gives everyone an incentive to kill. In the Ayaka-Heizou murder case, each student was given a videotape that raised more questions than answers. Yours was a clip of Lumine, your fellow theater actors, and idol mates congratulating you for your enrollment before it cuts off to a scene of your home burned to cinders. As for Ayaka, hers was a short-lived message of her older brother asking her to come visit the clan for Thoma’s upcoming birthday— before it cuts to a gruesome scene of her brother fatally wounded on their living room floor. 

“Find out what happens once you graduate!”... and then the tape ends.

Whoever was the mastermind behind this killing, you had to admit, they were an expert in psychological torture. And unfortunately for everyone, Ayaka was a smart individual— killing the most trustworthy student, Heizou, to cover her tracks better. She put up quite the fight in manipulating everyone to think that you and Kaveh were possible culprits.

You even got into an argument with the calmest person around. Kazuha was “convinced” that Ayaka was right, which led to you two entering an incredibly heated argument that left him depressed with his rejected apology. You were on "good terms" with him before, that being he would always offer to cook food and accompany you often. 

… Perhaps that was a good thing. Discreetly, you thought he strangely knew you to a degree that makes you far from comfortable. It still bugs you how he knew you all too well and yet you know nothing about him other than his aspirations: traditional Inazuman poetry writing with a bit of karuta on the side.

Maybe he used to be a big fan of yours? Even so, the foundation of your music, choreography, and persona was weaved through a tapestry of feel-good lies. And yet, he was wise enough to speak your true thoughts before you even hesitated to voice them in your cheery idol tone. 

But that’s not the issue right now. 

The issue on your plate was that you had no evidence to prove your innocence except for the list of school rules on your E-Handbook because you were convinced someone will kill you during the investigation.

You laughed to yourself bitterly. Might as well review those rules now.

You opened the E-Handbook.

As per “school rules”, there are regulations to be had in a murder game, but none stick to you as these three. Rule #10 and #7: A class trial will commence after three or more students have discovered a corpse, and a Body Discovery Announcement will play as soon as it occurs. However, a trial will be held if and only if every survivor is present; failure to do so will result in class “expulsion.” 

And the last rule that never left your mind was Rule #8: If the guilty party is exposed during the class trial, they alone will be executed.

By the end of Trial #4, she did not receive a proper execution. Ayaka was compelled to restore her honor and raised her sword to…

…

… You couldn’t hate her for it. Even though you were close friends with Heizou, you couldn’t hate any of your fellow students. They all had family, hopes, and visions for the future. Each one here was "a fledgling barely out of the nest." You couldn’t deny that you would’ve done the same.

"Since the Shogun isn't here yet, let's get a headstart," Kaveh gripped the court fence, eyeing everyone with a nervous stare and stiff posture. "What's your alibis?"

Nobody raised their voice initially. You cast a pitying glance toward Kaveh. When it comes to your closest friendships, he comes in second only to Heizou. As someone who had seen the horrors of the media which is essentially a mirror of the world's social issues, Kaveh's one of the few decent individuals left on the planet, in your opinion. In moments of quiet, you, Kaveh, and Faruzan used to chat together, with Heizou periodically interrupting to share his findings regarding everyone's entrapment.

Considering how Kaveh is your last true friend left, you volunteered yourself.

"I never left my room," you spoke audibly depressed, no longer caring that you appeared un-idol-like. "And I refused entry as well. I heard a couple of angry knocks at 9:37 p.m., but I didn't open my door for anyone."

You looked at Kazuha, hurt and accusingly.

You'd never forget how Kazuha called you a murderer. That intense argument made up 30% of Heizou's class trial. He lost his composure and called you a "dishonorable monster". The whole back-and-forth was very much unlike him. After the trial, neither of you talked– and you never left your room unless it was to get something to eat without anyone in sight.

If he was the one who killed Faruzan because he can’t get to you, then you’ll…

"9:37 eh? You got a watch now?" Kunikuzushi pointed at your wrist.

You snapped out of your aggression and nodded, which made him break out in a fit of laughter. 

"HAHAHA!!!" Kunikuzushi grinned, wide. "Learned your lesson, huh?!"

You scoffed, but your ego was humbled and your heart sank at his harsh words. 

Everyone in the room nearly lost their lives because of your time-blindness. It's precisely what made Kazuha suspicious of your motives. You were always unsure of the time, hence, you didn't have the most watertight alibi compared to Ayaka. Before you entered your room to lock yourself, Alhaitham blocked the door with his shoe and handed you his spare wristwatch. He was the last person you saw before your self-isolation.

"Good," Alhaitham said. "And you, Kunikuzushi?"

"Are we going to ignore that angry knocking thing?" Kaveh rightfully asked.

"Let's complete the first task first," Alhaitham answered. "Let's follow the circle; it's (Y/n), then Kunikuzushi, Kaveh, Yoimiya, Kazuha, then I."

"Conveniently putting yourself last," Kunikuzushi snarled. "But whatever. I was napping in my dorm. Woke up when I heard footsteps outside and decided to investigate. The discovery alarm rang off when I entered the nurse's office the second time."

Kaveh fell silent, his face pale.

"I… never went to m dorm that night"

"Oh?" You and Yoimiya curiously said in unison.

"I-I was with Alhaitham, patrolling!!!" Kaveh defended; his arms in the air. "I swear on my life, I was with him! We're probably the footsteps Kuni heard."

He spoke as if it was a good thing with his mouth, but he was whispering that it wasn’t with his eyes.

"Can't be certain," Kunikuzushi threw in a quick grumble and snapped his fingers. “But I think that's probably the case.”

"That makes sense. I mean, if Kuni was telling the truth then that just means there's more chance it's just those two hopping around. Oh, and I was actually on the second floor at the time. I was in the recreational room cause I wanted to get tokens for the cute little Shogun Stall.'' If Kuni’s side comment lasted a month, then Yoimiya's would be a year– but her good cheer is just what everyone needed to alleviate the tension.

"I wasn't in my dorm room either," Kazuha said. "I was in the cafeteria. I couldn't sleep so I decided to fry fish."

"True, I think. When I checked the cafeteria a knife was missing from the shelf."

"We’ll keep your fact-checking in mind, Miss Naganohara." 

No soul was sure if Alhaitham was being genuine about it except for you. And the answer was yes, he was being warily appreciative. Admittedly, you don’t know any of these people before this killing game started, except for one person…

Alhaitham looked away, conscious of how you looked at him.

In all fairness, Alhaitham was closer to Lumine than you and Aether, and he wasn’t your favorite neighbor either. As a kid, he was the type who would leave in the middle of hide-and-seek simply because the ordeal wasn’t “stimulating” to his developing intellect. He had a habit of causing uncomfortable situations just to “observe” your reactions with an emotionless stare. Alhaitham had once given you a sumeru rose with a startling grasshopper to see how you would behave, and the worst part is that everyone knows he did these without malice. His grandmother had to force a sorry out of him for your tears to dry. “He probably has a crush on you, you know how boys are,” was the excuse the old lady tried, but your twin siblings were quick to shut that thought down. You and he were simply oil and water, nothing more, nothing less.

But there were times you two got along. When you aired out loud sentiments regarding how stuffy his room must be, you snatched the book he was reading and dashed up the nearest tree. Despite his grumbling reservations, he was thankful that you taught him how to climb that afternoon. That was the first you saw him smile wider than usual and offered to narrate the book you stole: The Little Prince. 

However, that version of Alhaitham you’ve come to love remains awol amidst this killing game.

"As for my whereabouts: Kaveh is correct. He and I were patrolling just the first floor and exchanging conversation. Neither of us could sleep. We started at 9:15 and ended abruptly at 11:05, when we, along with Kunikuzushi, found–"

"The body." Kunikuzushi finished.

"Yes," Alhaitham said.

Kunikuzushi smirked. From your perspective, the worst part about this was not Kunikuzushi’s inappropriate smugness, but the look in his eyes that mirrored what Heizou used to have— what your good friend used to be. The light in his eyes, his more forward demeanor, the way he crossed his arms and snapped his fingers– it was as if he was copying him. 

Mocking him.

You hate Kunikuzushi. You detest just how much you don’t know why he’s in the Akademiya or anything else about him other than his first name. You loathe how he had made it his job to be the antagonist of every damn class trial. You hate how he looks at you as though you’re beneath him. You despise how much he is willing to withhold vital information till the very end.

Kunikuzushi is like a commedia dell’arte stock character. A Scaramouche. An unreliable servant. You can’t trust a man who said he was moved by your acting in all your filmography only to act like he wants nothing more than to crush your spirits once lives were at stake.

After listening to everyone’s alibis, your intuition screamed from something deep within a place you had begun to trust after experiencing these trials:

Out of six survivors, FOUR of them are hiding something.

“Is everyone present?”

Before you could speak up, a low and refined woman’s voice stole everyone’s attention. All turned to gaze at the long synthetic-haired lady with a katana by her side. She returned the stares with an unfathomable coldness as she strutted to her throne, the silk of her grand kimono touching the floor. 

There she is. The lone audience and judge. The puppet: the Almighty Raiden Shogun. Undoubtedly made of metal and not flesh. Xiao had learned that firsthand when he sacrificed his life in an honorable duel against the captor— but seeking freedom by force was of no use when she herself is capable of the murders she wished to witness.

“Very well. We shall begin.”

“W-Wait, hold up, ma'am!”

The last vaguely extroverted cheerleader raised her hand; her bravery to interrupt the Shogun was acknowledged.

“... Can I share my E-Handbook data with (Y/n)?” She asked, high-pitched.

The medical and criminological technology of this era eluded everyone. Trapped inside the Akademiya with no phones or any signal to the outside world, each student only has their E-Handbook to rely on. It contains information the owner investigated regarding murders and records testimonies made by their peers. A handbook is only “handy” for both people who were hoping to survive and those who were hoping to twist the facts. 

And that offer is exactly what you need.

“You see– they didn’t leave their room during the investigation period– probably worried that the killer might be after them next and they kinda turned into a hikikomori for the past few days. I’m kinda worried they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves on this trial so… So, uh… Pretty please?” The blonde girl smiled nervously.

The Raiden Shogun stared, calculating.

“I shall allow it.”

“Thank you so much!” Yoimiya tapped her E-Handbook as fast as she could, more eager than you were in watching the loading screen fill up.

(SYSTEM: RECEIVING NAGANOHARA YOIMIYA’S E-HANDBOOK DATA…)

(SYSTEM: TRANSFER COMPLETE.)

You smiled at Yoimiya but it came out crooked and jaded. She didn’t complain that you weren’t at your top form today, but she did send you a loud “Do your best!” in her native tongue.

The Shogun walked to the throne and took her seat.

“Now then, let the class trial begin.”

Out like a bolt of lightning, the doors behind you were completely shut with metal bars in her flick of a wrist. In her twisted form of justice, she hammered the circular surface with her gavel.

“Court is now in session.”

(SYSTEM: TAP HERE TO CONTINUE)

[gingerkunoichii]

♡ College AU Itachi Headcanon ♡

Summary: Itachi as your college boyfriend in a modern university AU! Warnings: SFW and NSFW descriptions (nsfw at the bottom)

How you meet and get together. ⋆ Itachi is in his final year at university, double-majoring in Business Administration and Political Science. He’s calm, collected, and commands quiet respect from both professors and peers. You meet him during your first semester in a shared elective—philosophy, of course. He’s the student who speaks rarely but with such precision that even the professor seems to pause and think about his words. At first, he’s polite but distant. You catch his attention when you challenge an idea during a class discussion. The way you articulate your thoughts, bold yet thoughtful, intrigues him- he is very much interested in a person with intelligence on par with his. ⋆ He invites you to study together, claiming it’s purely for academic purposes. During these study sessions, you’re struck by how patient he is when explaining complex concepts, his quiet intelligence effortlessly drawing you in. ⋆ It’s during one late-night session in the library that you see his reserved demeanour crack just slightly finally—he leans back in his chair, a rare, soft smile on his lips as he listens to you rant about a particularly annoying professor. ⋆ Itachi’s older brother tendencies shine through as he begins looking out for you on campus, even if his younger brother loathes him. He walks you to your dorm if you’re studying late, subtly reminds you about upcoming deadlines, and offers quiet encouragement during stressful times.

⋆ The two of you have been meeting like this for weeks now, sharing ideas and quiet companionship, and while you’ve caught glimpses of something deeper in the way he looks at you, he’s never said anything outright, not yet at least. ⋆ As you work, you notice his gaze lingering on you longer than usual. When you look up, he doesn’t look away, his dark eyes steady and thoughtful. “You’ve been quiet tonight,” you tease, trying to lighten the mood, but his lips curve into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “Just thinking,” he replies, his voice calm but with a certain weight to it. He sets down his pen and leans back slightly, studying you as if considering his next move. ⋆ He finally speaks. “These past few weeks... spending time with you has become something I look forward to,” he says, his gaze unwavering. “You challenge me. You intrigue me. And, more than that, you make me feel at ease in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.” He pauses for a moment, as if choosing his next words carefully. “I don’t want this to be something fleeting. I want to be more than just someone you study with."

⋆ He reaches across the table, his hand brushing yours before gently intertwining your fingers. The touch is warm and steady, grounding you in the moment. “Would you let me be more than that?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Would you let me be yours?” There’s no hesitation in his tone, no fear of rejection—just quiet confidence and a deep sincerity that leaves you breathless.

⋆ Of course you say yes, it's him. You'd been hoping something like this would happen in the back of your mind for weeks now. When you nod, his expression softens in a way you've never seen before. The faint smile that curves his lips reaches his tired eyes, and for a brief moment, he looks almost vulnerable.

How he would act with you as his girlfriend SFW ⋆ Itachi is incredibly attuned to your needs, often noticing things about you before you even voice them. Whether it’s the stress in your voice or the way your shoulders tense after a long day, he picks up on the little cues and takes action without needing to be asked. For example if you’re overwhelmed, he’ll offer quiet solutions—a cup of tea, a break to sit in the park together, or simply holding you in comfortable silence.

⋆ He remembers everything you tell him, from your favourite type of coffee to the details of a story you mentioned weeks ago, he uses his intelligence and knowledge in thoughtful ways. ⋆ Though he's not flashy, Itachi loves surprising you with small, meaningful gestures. He might leave a handwritten note in your bag, pick up your favourite flowers on a whim, or take you to a quiet spot on campus he thought you'd like. "I thought of you when I walked past the flower shop earlier, Y/N. I hope you don't mind." ⋆ For special occasions, he happily puts in extra effort - as if he was waiting for the moment to spoil you. ⋆ Itachi has a subtle but unshakable protective side to him. He won't hover or smother you, but if he senses someone being disrespectful or causing you distress, he will act accordingly. ⋆ He won't need to raise his voice or even act physically to make his point. A few well-chosen words in his deep, composed tone is usually enough to handle any situation, whether that be a small petty argument you both have or someone else trying to bother you or him. ⋆ Itachi isn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve at all, but his emotions become clearer the longer you're with him. His love is quiet but unwavering, shown through his loyalty, thoughtfulness and the way he prioritises your well-being above all. You can count on him, he's got his shit together. ⋆ While most people see him as serious and reserved, you get to experience his subtle humour and playful side. He teases you in quiet, knowing ways, smirking when he knows only you'll understand. ⋆ He might lean in close during a lecture and murmur something unexpectedly flirty just to see you blush, enjoying the way you try to brush it off.

NSFW ⋆ Itachi's cock is proportionate to his lean and elegant build. He's just about above average in length at around 6.2 inches when fully hard, with a thickness that feels just right - not overly intimidating but definitely enough to leave an pression. ⋆ He's meticiously groomed - clean and well maintained, with a sparse but soft patch of dark hair at the base of his cock. It's clear he takes care of himself. ⋆ Itachi is confident but not cocky (pun intended) about his size or general appearance; his focus is entirely on making sure you're comfortable rather than bragging or talking about his size. ⋆ The first time you’re with him is unhurried, almost reverent. It’s in his apartment, the room dimly lit with soft golden light. He takes his time, his touch gentle as he maps out your body with his hands, lips, and tongue. ⋆ His voice is low and velvety, murmuring quiet reassurances as he strips away every layer of your clothing. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your skin, the warmth of his breath sending goosebumps racing down your spine. ⋆ Itachi doesn’t rush. His hands move with purpose—one sliding up your thigh while the other cups your jaw, tilting your head so he can kiss you deeply. His lips are soft but firm, every kiss leaving you breathless and aching for more. ⋆ When he finally presses into you, he’s achingly slow, giving you time to adjust to the stretch. His forehead rests against yours, his dark eyes locked onto yours as he groans softly, his voice husky. “It feels like you were made for me.”

⋆ Itachi is so incredibly attentive and in tune with you, every movement calculated to draw the most pleasure from you each time he fucks you. He loves the way your body reacts to him, the way you arch into his touch, the soft sounds you mewl when he finds your sensitive spots. ⋆ When he's inside you, he moves with a rhythm that feels both deliberate and instinctual, his hips rolling slowly but deeply as his cock moves inside and out of you. He groans, barely keeping himself in check, but his focus is entirely on you, watching every flutter of your lashes, every gasp, every moan.

⋆ When you close your eyes to focus on the feeling he often moves his hand to cup your chin. "Look at me," he murmurs against your lips, firm but tender. He loves the intimacy of eye contact, the way it binds you to him in the moment. ⋆ Itachi is deeply invested in your own pleasure more than his own, finding satisfaction in every cry he pulls from you. He adores going down on you late at night when you least expect it, his mouth and tongue skilled against your most sensitive spot as he works you to the edge and back again. ⋆ His tongue moves in slow, circling strokes, sucking every now and then - paired with his fingers curling inside of you. He's patient, teasing you until you're gripping his long ink black hair and begging for more, he relishes in you whimpering his name. "Be patient.." ⋆ When you cum, he doesn't stop right away- he rides the wave with you, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from your body. "Y/N, I want to hear you," he'll say softly, his voice like a caress, encouraging you to let go completely in his presence alone. ⋆ Itachi rarely lets his composure slip, but when he's overwhelmed by desire after a particularly long day - you see a complete different side of him. His kisses are hungry, his usually soft hands turning rough as his long fingers curl easily around your soft flesh, pulling you flush against him. ⋆ When he presses you against a wall, unable to help himself, you feel the full weight of his need - the way his cock is hard and heavy against you, the low growl in his throat as he murmurs, "I can't wait any longer to fuck you. You've been teasing me all day." ⋆ Even in his urgency though, he's still careful with you. He checks in with a quiet "Is this okay?" before sinking his cock deep inside you, his breath faltering as he bottoms out into you fully. ⋆ Itachi considers aftercare part of the experience. He'll hold you close, kiss you softly, and quite literally do anything you request after. He enjoys the intimacy of these moments, whispering words of love and affection and gently massaging you where he had touched. It's during aftercare that he's at his most vulnerable, quietly expressing how much you actually mean to him in the quiet of his apartment "I love you so much.."

[darkestspring]

So Aegon cuts his hair short so he doesnt look like a Targaryen, he hated being a Targaryen. So imagine Jaces twin sister, long dark curls and dark brown eyes.

Even as children Aegon thought she was pretty, he loved that she didn't look like a traditional Targaryen.

As they grew older Aegon became obsessed with her. If he has to marry he wants to marry her and hard dark haired babies, and that what he tells his mother, right before she slaps him.

Aegon managing to push hos wedding to Helaena off for years, but when Rheanyra and her kids comes back to Kings Landing and Aegon sees Jaces twin again.

Aegon won't let her slip through his fingers again.

You'd always look so.... unlike a targaryen. Unlike how he and his siblings looked. with Brown hair and dark eyes, you were everything his mother hated, a targaryen that didn't look like one.

But... you were so pretty.

Aegon once again snuck away from his lessons to watch you with your dragon, you looked so happy. Dark eyes alive with mischief and happiness as you whispered something to your dragon and he roared in return, eliciting a laugh from you.

He'd never heard you laugh before then, it was like a forgotten song, a melody he could never escape from.

He's also never seen you as angry as you were that night, glaring with teary eyes as you held onto your younger brothers. His attraction to you hadn't ceased even in that moment. when you were brimming with happiness and when you were seething with anger, both expressions made him want to kiss you senseless.

But then you were gone. As soon as that. He wished he could have more time. More time to see you, to follow you, to find a common interest or even feign interest in what you liked if only to hear your voice say his name.

It wasn't until he saw you again, still unmarried despite his mother's ire and nagging. He'd never marry anyone but you. He hoped that the children he had with you would be dark haired babies.

You turned, feeling eyes on you and your lips curled into an almost snarl at seeing Aegon staring at you before you turned away. "He's staring at me." You hissed to your mother and step-father.

"I can collect another head." Daemon suggested, hand already on his sword.

Much to your disappointment, your mother shook her head. "Not yet."

He won't marry Helaena, Aegon decided. Anyone else can have her but you. You were his.

"Let me marry her." His words were spoken boldly to Rhaenyra and Daemon after basically forcing an audience with them. "I'll fight for your claim, I won't challenge it. I don't care about ruling. I just want her." Aegon stared at them with fierce eyes.

Daemon looked like he wanted to draw his sword until Rhaenyra stopped him, hand on his chest.

"I'll think about it." Rhaenyra answered coolly, dismissing him.

That wasn't good enough. Aegon couldn't stand it anymore. he has spent years yearning for you, craving to hear you say his name at the very least.

"You've always been the pretties girl I've ever seen." His words made you stomach clench and you didn't want to think about it. "Pretty brown hair and dark eyes, you look like a dream." He might be a bit drunk and babbling word vomit but it was all true.

You stared at him for a moment, almost stunned before reaching over and taking another drink of you wine. "And your mother? What does she think of this?"

"I don't care. I don't care what she thinks or what she wants. I just want you. I don't want glory or power. I just want to sleep on your thighs for the rest of my life." Aegon couldn't stop talking

A laugh slipped from your throat and an amused look filled your eyes at his words. "Is that so?" You mused softly. Taking pity on him, you leaned forward and kissed him. "Once you're sober, come find me and tell me again that you want to sleep on my thighs for all eternity. Maybe i'll let you."

With those last words, you were gone from his view and Aegon barely stopped himself from scrambling after you like a lost puppy.

[trippinsorrows]

midnight sun + two

authors note: really wasn't expecting the response and interest the first part received. thank you so much! 🥺 as previously stated, this is going to be heavy. please be mindful of your mental state before consuming this content.

words: 3.3k

warnings: angst, domestic violence, violence against women

song inspo: 'faithfully' by journey

one

It takes some digging. 

Requires blowing off some dust and the occasional angrily tossed objects, but he eventually finds it almost an hour into searching. The amount of time that could easily be used for other things, but none strike him as important as this. 

More dust has to be wiped off the box that he hasn’t seen or touched in over 15 years. 

Roman sits on the edge of the bed, careful with his movements, recognizing the fragility of the worn thing. Opened, there’s a strange feeling that settles over him seeing the contents, all drawings and artwork. But, it’s namely the largest item that lies at the bottom that evokes such emotions. Smaller pieces partially obscuring the view, slowly, his fingers move underneath it, gingerly pulling it out as he sets the box to the side and focuses on the item in hand.

A different time. A different person almost. Seeing the drawing of himself from that time in his life also brings up more confusing feelings.

Especially pertaining to the artist who created it for him. 

2003

Solitude has always been his companion, a preferred thing over most people in his life who don’t understand him. Who only mean him harm, pain, and betrayal.

That’s why one of the first things Roman did was confiscate and make the only loveseat in the common area his. A possession from day one that no one has seemed to question or challenge, largely because everyone knows why he’s here and subsequently don’t want to get on his bad side.

A smart decision.

It’s farther away from the rest of the seating options, another preferred thing that allows him to zone out with the help of the headphones over his ears. An escape. Isolation.

Solitude has been the only companion granted to him in this life. 

That and Rosalia. 

But, as she’s not an option anymore, so he settles for what remains.

Except, it’s short lived, because with expert peripheral vision, he’s witness to a scene unfolding. Roman doesn’t necessarily need to hit pause on his Walkman to see what’s going on, but he does it anyway. 

“Give it back!” Her voice is far too sweet, way too innocent. It makes him scowl. “Please!”

Roman directs more of his attention to the young girl he’s noticed in passing since his admission, the faded bruises on her face along with her bandaged wrists some of the first things to catch his attention.

It doesn’t take much to see why she’s there. 

She’s younger than him by almost four years at fourteen to his seventeen going on eighteen, but he also can’t ignore the fact that she looks older than what she is.

More developed than most girls her age.

And judging by the three pricks playing hot potato with her sketchbook, stupid looks on their equally stupid faces, he’d bet that’s why they’re messing with her. Sick enjoyment at the sight of her chest moving as she attempts to pry her book back. 

“Please!” She begs, and it only makes his scowl deepen. Her voice is annoying, but what’s more annoying is the fact that the fucking useless staff here are doing nothing to intervene. 

Not surprising though.

In Roman’s experience, adults don’t help out and protect children.

Just feed em’ to the wolves. 

Or are the wolves themselves. 

“You want it back?” One of them sneers, a haughty look on his pimpled face. “Show us your boobs.”

She freezes, terror rendering her still as she asks in a low voice, “w–what?”

“Yeah, show em!” 

“I bet they’re—”

Whatever was going to be said will never be known, it’ll never be known due to Roman decking the son of a bitch in the neck. The other dumbasses only further cement their stupidity by turning their glares onto him.

“You really fucked up.”

One goes to hit him, an easy dodge as Roman uses his elbow and rams it into the back of his head. The third is the most unlucky, Roman tossing him to the ground and pummelling him, a sick thrill filling him as he imagines someone else. 

Imagines it’s his piece of shit, abusive father underneath his unrelenting fist. Imagines it’s his blood spilling all over again, life fading from his pathetic body.

A sick fill, indeed. 

But, it’s short–lived, because security is yanking him off, yelling some shit at him that he doesn’t give two fucks about. 

“Get the fuck off me!” Roman overpowers the guards, sending them both to the floor and he moves to walk away, unsurprised that no one comes after him. Their goal was simply to separate and break up the fight, not penalize him for said altercation.

They know fucking better than to try that shit with him of all people.

The heir to the Bloodline Empire. An empire that now technically is already his with the “death” of his pussy of a father. 

A murder.

A murder done at his hands.

“Ummm.”

Roman has just sat back down on the sofa when he hears it again. That voice. Slightly less annoying but way too close. Because looking up, he sees she’s standing only a few feet away from him, hugging the sketchbook to her chest. 

And just like that, the scowl returns, “what the fuck do you want?”

She opens and closes her mouth, temporarily looking down almost in embarrassment. “I just….I wanted to say….thank you.”

Roman’s sneer falters just a bit. 

Thank you...

He can’t remember the last time someone other than his little sister uttered such words to him. 

If ever.

Confused as to whatever the fuck is coming up in him, he easily dismisses it and her. “Good. You said it. Now leave me the fuck alone.”

A glance at her face reveals a small frown that’s followed with her leaving  to walk away but not before she stops and turns around, a small, unsure smile replacing the frown. “I’m Solana, by the way.” He meets her gaze, warm locking with cold. “Solana Miller.”

And when she turns to walk away, it only makes sense he lets her do so. But, that’s not what happens. 

“Roman,” he’s offering for reasons unknown, weirdly settled in a sense by the return of her small smile. “Roman Reigns.”

—----

Present

Walking back into the coffee shop, it’s only then that Roman becomes more aware of just how much this place really does scream Solana. Soft, pastel colors make up the color schemes. Random artwork with color palettes that match the painting and positive quotes that match her.

It’s exactly the kind of place he’d expect to be hers. 

It’s when he walks over to the counter that he’s met with the one thing in here that is most definitely not Solana.

A young woman who looks like she either just walked out of a rave or satanic ceremony looks at him with icy blue eyes. Her black lips are curved into an almost mocking smile when she asks in an accented voice, “can I help you?”

Roman gives her a one over. She must be part of some damn work program. “Where’s Solana?”

The woman scoffs, crossing her surprisingly buff arms. It’s clear as day that she stays in the gym. “Why do you wanna know? I’m the manager. I can help you—”

“I don’t need you. I need Solana.”

He’s trying for the sake of not wanting to cause a scene at Solana’s place of business, but this Wednesday Adams looking bitch is really trying it. 

“How do you know her?” She suddenly asks, partially taking him by surprise. “I saw you here the other day talking to her. You two seemed…..friendly.”

It’s the fact that Roman didn’t notice this bitch that day as well as the fact that she’s snooping that has him putting her in her palace. “That’s none of your damn business.”

But, she doesn't cower away, instead metaphorically puffing out her chest. “Look, I know exactly who you are, and I don’t give a damn. Solana is one of my best friends. She’s already got one piece of shit man in her life. She doesn’t need any more.”

“You know her fiancé?” He asks, now interested in whatever information she might have. “Cody, right?”

She nods, a bitter expression on her face. “Unfortunately.”

Her response is very telling. “You don’t like him.”

The follow up answer is filled with an equal amount of disdain. “I don’t like any man who gets off on beating the shit out of women.”

It’s one thing to suspect, even know for oneself. But, it’s another to have it confirmed. Roman's fist forming at his side accompanies his clarifying question. “He hits her?”

She says nothing, and it’s then he picks up on the extent of her discomfort. She’s obviously unsure with how much to share and how much to withhold, even if she’s already shared more than expected.

“Look, Solana and I….” He fucking hates talking to people in general, especially about his personal life, but this woman clearly has information he needs to know. And while he’s certainly not above torture, it’s not the preferred route in this situation. “We were friends when we were younger, but we….we lost contact years ago.” He adds, voice genuine. “I have no intentions on hurting her.”

Never has. Never will.

“Solana won’t leave him,” she finally relents after a few minutes of silence. “She gets….defensive when you ask too many questions or try to call her out on all the bullshit excuses she makes for all the bruises and black eyes.” She shakes her head, a sudden sadness in her eyes. “He’s broken two of her ribs before, broke her nose, her her wrist, put her in casts. And she mostly chalks it up to bad falls.” Crossing her arms, she says in a quiet voice. “He’s going to kill her one day. I just….I just know it.”

When hell freezes over.

Imagining all the cruel and vile ways he’s going to dismember this son of a bitch, Roman inquires. “‘How the hell did they even get together?”

“She went to some fancy ass business owner thing about a year ago. They met there, and he pursued the hell out of her. At the time, she thought it was sweet. Looking back now, it’s obvious he was preying on her.”

Roman says nothing, taking in all of the information, something about that meeting, the fact that it was a business thing along with the name Cody, prompting him to ask. “Wait. Is her fiancé Cody Rhodes?”

She scoffs. “That’s him.” Roman looks away, cursing quietly. “Why?”

He remains silent, partially confused as to what Solana could have ever seen in someone like Cody but also now recognizing that killing him won’t be as easy as he initially thought.

Because Roman knew the moment he saw Solana react with so much fear just at the mention of this Cody person, that he was going to kill him. Further cemented with how jumpy she was.

 But, Cody Rhodes being the Cody in question massively fucking complicates things given the decades long truce between the Nightmare Factory and the Bloodline. The Factory doesn’t fuck with the Bloodline, and the Bloodline doesn’t fuck with Factory.

But, him killing Cody Rhodes, the fucking leader of the Nightmare Factory, will most definitely fuck with that truce. It’ll void it, thus starting a nasty, brutal war.

He can’t have that. 

The Bloodline can’t have that.

But, Roman also can’t have that bleached bitch beating on Solana. 

Or worse.

“I need to talk to her,” he announces, gaze on the woman who seems to be opening up more and more by the minute. “When is she scheduled to work again?”

Sighing, an answer is supplied that only pisses him off more. “She was supposed to come in today, but she called out sick.” Roman snarls. Sick, his ass. “She should be here tomorrow though. Works the evening shift.”

He nods, making a mental note to clear his schedule. “I’ll be here.”

She eyes him with skepticism. “Look, she’s got enough she’s dealing with. If you’re going to make things worse—”

“I’m not,” he interrupts, voice harsh, glare returning. 

And, she doesn’t back down. Doesn’t deter from a glare that would have most people cowering. One thing for certain, while Solana may be engaged to a monster, the woman before him is a different kind of monster. A useful one to have on her side. “Then what the hell are you going to do?”

Roman notices the tip drawer on the counter and pulls out his wallet, sliding a crisp hundred dollar bill and placing it in the jar. Returning his wallet back to his back pocket, he leans over just enough so he can answer in the calmest, eeriest voice.

“I’m going to rip Cody Rhodes apart limb by limb.”

—-----

His heavy, sweaty body plops down beside her, face up, his gaze on the ceiling. The sound of his loud, uneven breathing further exacerbates her discomfort, disgust filling her at the feel of his seed spilling out of her. 

Solana doesn’t hesitate to turn on her side, wanting nothing more than to get as far away from him as possible, to rush to the shower, to cleanse herself and scrub her body raw from the feel of him on her.

But, she knows how this goes. Knows that she has to wait for him to fall asleep before she can do that, has to ensure that he’s done.

And the minute she hears it, turns and sees that he’s in fact asleep, she peels the blanket off her naked body and makes her way to the bathroom.

Tempted to lock the door, it’s a declined decision knowing it will only wield a negative, painful outcome. 

Turning the knob and stepping under the hot water, Solana allows it to rain down on her body, soothing the lingering aches and pains from the most recent beating. She also doesn’t hesitate to take the shower head, angling it up to her vagina, doing her best to wash away his sperm. An unnecessary thing given the fact that she’s on birth control and always consistent with it, it just helps her feel better.

As best as one can feel in this situation. 

Standing under the comforting water until her body begins to prune up, Solana steps out, wraps a towel around herself and uses her hand to wipe the fogged mirror, providing a slightly cloudy view of herself. A view that immediately brings tears to her eyes. 

The bruises. The cuts. The internal injuries. The pain no one can see and only she can feel.

Tears streaming down her face, it’s impossible for her to not think of her. To not think of how she’s become the very same person she swore she would never be.

Her mother.

“God.” Solana jumps at the sound of his voice, naturally moving her hand to the knot on her towel that keeps her wet body hidden. He stands in the doorway, leaning, dressed in only boxers. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” Once a compliment that made her blush, it now only invokes nausea. “How much I love you?”

Another sickening thing, but not nearly as sickening as what she makes herself say next. “I—I love you, too.”

He makes a sound, walking over, Solana backing up when he tugs her to him, his hand gliding over her damp shoulder blade. “Say it again.”

A painful, tortuous thing. “I—I love you, Cody.” Delight fills his gaze, an infrequent but hopeful thing as she decides to take a risk, to shoot her shot in one of the few opportunities given. “B–baby?”

“Hmm?”

Her body naturally trembles as she powers through her fear and the terror that fills her being. “I was—I—I was wondering if…..if I could go visit my mom and sister.” He doesn’t say anything, but the movement of his finger ceases. “It’s just—I—I haven’t seen them in over a y—year, and she—my mom—I know she’s worried—”

“Solana, Solana, Solana.” And right then and there, she knows this was one of the worst things she could have ever done. “When will you learn?”

Before she can process what’s happening, before she can even fix her mouth to apologize, sheer pain courses through her body as he grabs her by her ear and slams the side of her face down on the bathroom counter. 

Her body crumbles to the floor as she feels the blood suddenly spilling from the side of her head. Cody crouches down in front of her, face turned almost animalistic, “do you think I’m fucking stupid!”

Crying, she shakes her head and attempts to keep the towel together. “No, no, of course—”

Solana cries out when he grabs her by her hair, pulling her to her feet, yanking her head back, one hand wrapped around her throat, restricting her breathing. “Do you think you can fucking try to leave me?”

She’s gasping, small fingers prying at his hand. An answer is practically impossible with the strength of his grip. 

“I own you! You understand me! You belong to me!” He shouts, once again slamming her face down on the counter. Solana is almost seeing stars, red liquid seeping down the middle of her face. “I fucking told you already. If you ever try to leave me, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them fucking both!”

Another painful reminder that matches the pain multiplying through her body at his brutal, vicious assault. An evil smile crosses his face as he stares at her through the mirror. “Or, maybe I’ll just kill that bitch mother of yours, huh? Kill her and sell that pretty sister of yours to the highest bidder.”

Solana’s eyes widen, her fear extrapolating as she cries harder. “Please—please don’t—”

“Shut up,” he roars. A stinging punch to her side that would have her doubled over if not for his returned grip to her hair. “If I have to ever remind you of this shit again, I’ll slice you up and feed your body to the fucking dogs!”

A promise followed by him tossing her to the floor and a final kick to her side. “Sleep in here, you ungrateful bitch. I don’t want to see your fucking face tonight.”

Solana jumps when he slaps the light off and slams the door shut. 

The silence and loneliness is welcomed, a rare safe space in her world that has in a matter of a year become anything but.

It was stupid, silly of her to even try to think that she could get away with such a thing. Even if she truly had no intentions of trying to escape. Never would. Not if it means the unspeakable horrors being done to her are extended to the two people she loves the most.

Or worse.

She just truly wanted to see her family. 

Wants to see her family. Her home. The place that carries so many good memories, memories that fade with each day spent in hell.

The tears continue to cascade over, the hollowness in her chest and soul expanding by the minute.

Legs pulled to her chest, a long forgotten tune from such a different almost as painful time in her life returns to the forefront of her mind. Conjoined with the contact name still sitting unused in her phone. 

Journey

Lyrics from a song shared with her from the most unlikely person spilling from her mind and out of her mouth.

“Just a small town girl….” Soft singing accompanies a heavy weight that nearly collapses her chest. “Livin' in a lonely world….” It’s the most she can get out before her sobs overwhelm her. 

Left alone in darkness, it’s hard for her to tell where the rooms’ begins and hers ends. 

[uno-san]

Can i request a continuation of your first fic? Stan eventually admitting the Mr. Mystery who sent the flowers wasn’t a secret admirer but infact Mr. Mystery himself?

First of all, I am so honored to have a request for a continuation! Truly one of the highest compliments. And reading back on comments before, I should have made a second part long ago! I had so much fun writing this and thanks to all who have read my work. Part 1 can be found here. There's a small recap written in this part though so reading it isn't required :) Enjoy! Mr. Pines, Part 2 (Stanley Pines x Reader)

Nearing the end of summer was always a melancholic event. In which the busiest season of the year would descend back down to hell and allow the workload to dwindle off to a manageable amount at the Mystery Shack yet leave you with a sense of grief at another amazing summer gone. It wasn’t like that before.

Ever since becoming a full-fledged adult with a life and responsibilities, the seasons and months had a way of blending together as one week after the next you were simply looking forward to the next paycheck. It was torture. Arguably not a way of living at all.

Keyword being before.

Sure, you could do without the new occupational hazard of being killed by a mecha-suit made out of feral gnomes, mind-wiping cultists, and God knows what else. Yet despite all the life-threatening danger, you’ve never been more alive! Everyday holds the potential for a new adventure and memories to make with the friends that you never thought you had.

That was the sadness about summer ending, however. Soos would remain at the shack but your other dependable co-worker, Wendy, would be off focusing on school. The same for Dipper and Mabel, who would leave Gravity Falls and Mr. Pines- Ah.

Stanley. 

You were in the middle of sweeping the trampled wood floors of the Mystery Shack when the name made you stop in your tracks. It always did. Worse yet, it’d have you chew the inside of your cheek to stop them from heating up. It made you feel juvenile. Quickly your eyes swept across the shop and back as if you chanted his name three times. When there was no puff of smoke you let out a sigh of relief.

It was the start of summer where your more challenging trails began. That being Stanley Pines, the older man who was the owner of the Mystery Shack and your boss, who had given you permission to call him by his first name. Having done so, naturally, on a day where a secret admirer, or, ‘Mr. Mystery’ (Whom Stanley says he’ll sue for stealing his title) sent you a beautiful arrangement of flowers. God, you can still remember what a pain it was to lug the large vase back home. It was a wonder how Wendy was able to do it all herself without having a car to help.

To add to the confusion already surrounding that day when Stan hadn’t confessed to being the culprit, you were disappointed. Your shoulders slumped when Wendy had reasoned it had to be someone else. Instead of wanting to know who this secret admirer was you were instead interested in knowing when in the hell you developed a crush on the graying con man that was your boss. Not that there were tons of eligible bachelors in Gravity Falls but then they’d be in your age range! Or ones with no criminal record, strong arms, jokes, a handsome face that could draw you in at any moment to share a sweet kiss with-

Fingers snap in front of your face. The sharp sound caused you to jump in response and fumble with the broom to prevent it from falling.

“Hey, kid!”

Stanley’s hoarse voice rang out from beside you; your shoulders tensed while your newfound grip on the broom handle could have splintered it. He must have noticed the panic in your face as he quickly raised his hands as if to show he wasn’t armed.

“Oh, Mr. Stans, I-”

“Huh? I…don’t know if, what-” The perplexed expression he made killed you in a thousand ways before his head shook out the unnecessary thoughts, “NEVERMIND ALL THAT. Forget it. I just wanted to ask ya to get started on restocking the bumper sticker display, alright? Last time to peddle the stuff out while we have the most out-of-town folk. Can ya do that?”

You nod, “Of course! I’ll get started on it straight away, S-Stan.”

The smile you offered didn’t appear to reassure him any as he lingered a moment. His hands were firmly planted on his hips while he actually leaned down to inspect you. Drawing close enough into your space that you had to nearly arch your spine not to bump into the man. Under his gaze all you could do was swallow the thick lump of nervousness that always choked you when Stanley was near.

Suddenly he blinked. As if Stan had just realized how the distance between your two had closed without his notice. Awkwardly Stanley stepped back and coughed into his hand. Your overactive imagination could have sworn his cheeks were tinged pink, “Just, ah…checking to see ya didn’t have a heat stroke or nothing. You don’t, so, start drinking water before you start freaking out the tourists. Got it, kid?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead stomping off to wrangle some poor soul into buying poorly-produced and expensive merchandise. You watched him from where you stood still, now overcome with a flurry of emotions from that blundered interaction. If a Gnome Mech wasn’t going to kill you then Stanley Pines sure as hell was.

With a shake of your head you did your best to gain control of yourself once more while the day threatened to drag on. On the way to the storage room you passed by Wendy. Who, as always, was laid back. She nodded towards you. You returned it without reveling in the silent approval of a teenager before you disappeared in the backroom to grab the needed box. Luckily it was light and allowed you to grab another heftier box full of other items that were in need of refilling and maintenance. It didn’t hurt to put a bit more effort into your job, after all.

Returning to the main room in front of the counter you could finally begin your work. It was almost therapeutic. Nobody bothering you. No immediate death threats or wild twins to wrangle in. Just you and a box of bumper stickers being neatly tucked away into different stacks.

You would have started humming to yourself if something hadn’t felt…off.

Something behind you had begun to radiate heat. Breathing down your neck and causing a nervous drop of sweat to run down your forehead. Slowly you began to turn around until a hot breath suddenly blew across your face, your eyes meeting with another pair with barely a head turn.

“OH, JESUS!”

The shock of it had you bring your arm back to slap the stack of bumper stickers across the cheek of someone not all too unfamiliar. Who you now recognized as Thompson yelped at the contact and went to quickly shield his face with a previously unnoticed bouquet of roses, “Dude, duuuuuuude, stop!” He cried out while his eyes were skewered shut with pain, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“I- What-” You dropped the merchandise in your hand as if they alone had somehow enticed you to assault a poor teenager, “No, I mean…Shit. I’m sorry, I guess?” In the midst of your guilt it was hard to pin the blame on anyone, “What in the actual hell were you doing-”

“What in the actual hell- HECK is going on over here?” Stanley’s voice cut through the confusion. His heavy footsteps nearly rattled the walls of the Mystery Shack as he came to inspect the commotion. Stanley’s eyes fell onto the scattered merchandise that caused his frown to be deeper set, eyebrows furrowed in a conflicting mix of emotions. 

“Alright, there better be a good explanation for all this racket. You’re distracting the customers- WHAT IS THAT?” His eyes grew impossibly wide as he gestured wildly to the bouquet.

You opened your mouth to reply before the bell attached to the front door rang to grab your attention. Stepping through was Lee, the taller blonde teen that you’ve seen attached to Wendy’s friend group, miraculously holding a bundle of roses in hand.

“He’s lying to you!” Lee shouted and clutched at his heart in either a romantic gesture or a heart attack, “I’m the one who bought it for you, not HE!”

“Lee,” Thompson began to what you could only describe as stage-whisper in his friend’s direction, “I didn’t get to my part yet, I got frickin hit!” His hand moved to reveal the slightly pink mark on his cheek.

Lee lost his composure, “Aw, really? Bro, that’s fucking hilarious. But like…c’mon, bro, you gotta do your part before Nate gets here.”

“Wait, Nate?” Your confusion deepened as they ignored you in favor of having a whispered back and forth, with Lee pushing Thompson forward who nearly collided into you with the shove. The look you gave him was of someone afraid of a bomb about to go off.

Thompson wiped the sweat off his brow before offering his flowers with the same hand, “I like, fricken LIKE you, dude! Just love your whole deal,” He confessed with cheeks as hot as the son while he practically had to spit the words out. His heavy breathing began to pick up. Opening his palm you noticed that there was smudged ink on it that he was now trying to read, “T-That’s why I bought you the flowers-”

“WHAAAAAAAT???” Stanley suddenly roared to life while his hands tightened into fists. In a tantrum similar to a child he marched up, glowing down at poor Thompson who’d gone stark white.

“He’s lying to you! I’m the one who bought it for you, not HE!” Lee repeated. Stepping forward he cast a concerned glance towards the statue that was once his friend to present his own bundle of flowers to you.

The pollen made you want to sneeze. Impressively Lee managed to ignore Stanley to continue addressing you, “It’s true, I’m Mr. Mystery. And it’s even truer that I’m into older, uh…” He looked you up and down, “Into older individuals.”

Your brows drew closer together in concern, “How old do you think I am?”

Lee bit his lip and raised his brows in what he must have thought was a seductive look, “Old enough, bro.”

Thankfully you didn’t have to respond to that as Stanley’s hand shot forward to grab at Lee’s flowers, tossing them to the ground as if he was spiking a football and causing petals to fly everywhere. Lee stared at his hand in shock before having his attention drawn to Stanley who had the both of them in his sights and looking ready to strike.

“I’m not going to take any kinda lying in my house! Neither you or dweebus here bought ‘em any flowers. You two dorks don’t have the kind of cash for that sorta gesture anyway!”

“Uh, we totally could,” Lee said in an offended tone, “Flowers are like, 8 bucks at the grocery store.”

“The ones delivered weren’t from no grocery store, it was a specialized boutique!” “How’d you know that? Huh?”

“Gardening. Is. My. HOBBY.” Stanley passionately replied through gritted teeth.

“No, it’s not.” Wendy answered, bored.

This was starting to give you a headache in more ways than one. Especially in the sense that the few customers in the shop were beginning to stare you down, no doubt finding this whole spectacle the biggest mystery of the day. It made you want to shrink away and disappear into nothing! Sure, you were just lamenting the end to an exciting summer but this wasn’t the type of bang you wanted it to go out on!

Turning towards Wendy you had prayed she would be of help to wrangle in her friends while Stanley and Lee argued in the background. To your disappointment Wendy was hardly paying attention. To both you and her actual job while she busily texted on her phone. You waved your hand out in front of her.

“Please, a little help?” You were nearly begging, “Think maybe all your friends hit their heads at the same time or something. I don’t even know how they knew about the whole flower thing- WHAT, THOMPSON?”

The nervous teen had managed to shuffle past his friend and your boss. Apparently he had given up reading his hand to instead have his phone pulled out. His eyes would flicker between you and the screen before he tried shoving his remaining flowers back into your face again as opposed to your conveniently open hands.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May-”

“NO. No. No, no, no, noooo!” Like a sheep being surrounded by wolves you staggered back. Your growing panic is now drawing the attention of Stan and Lee who managed to stop arguing long enough to see you turn tail and run, “I’m going home until whatever this is blows over!”

What you expected to be an awkward exit quickly turned to a horror show as Lee and Thompson actually pursued you.

“W-Wait! We didn’t get to the part about how there’s soooo many other bachelors after you!” One of them yelled.

“Yeah, and that waiting too long to snatch you up will result in losing your love fooooreeevveeer,” The other, for whatever reason, said this more towards Stan. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” You shouted off behind you while carefully dodging between both aisles and customers alike.

Seeing as you had two stalkers on your tale Stanley raised a fist, “Hey! No harassing my, uh- favorite employee! Wendy, get my crossbow!”

“No.”

If they started arguing or not after that was none of your concern as you were apparently in a struggle for your life. If your heart wasn’t going to give out on you yet then the embarrassment would definitely get you by the time you get home. God, this was all starting to feel like a fever dream. Or maybe you DID die this summer and now you were in some sick limbo?

Whatever this was, it was clearly because of one thing. The incident with the flowers you received a couple months back, to be exact. After that day there had been no further gifts. How was it connected? Especially to Wendy’s friends of all people who you had the pleasure of not interacting with much at all this summer.

Perhaps they had been the ones to send the flowers in the first place? Attempting to draw you in further with a date to pull a prank on you. Trying to film your reaction for a video that they’d laugh about for ages to come and torment you with.

But no. That couldn’t be it.

Humiliation was certainly what they were achieving right now but if that had been the goal they would have pushed for it when the flowers had first been delivered. Give you a way to contact this ‘Mr. Mystery’. But they hadn’t. So what was the point of now?

You supposed this could haunt you later instead seeing as you had two hot pursuers on your tail. Both Lee and Thompson were still flinging compliments your way while Stanley struggled to catch up between having to clean up any spills along the way as well. Whenever you were able to catch a glance of him you’d shoot an apologetic look that he’d wave off.

It was another minute of dodging the two before you were able to loop your way back around to the front of the Mystery Shack, towards the parking lot and where your car was. To safety. A part of you was even willing to mow down a rowdy teen if you had too! But fate had other plans. The door swung open and you skidded to a halt; nearly crashing into the poor unsuspecting soul who-

It was Nate.

He saw you and grinned, slowly raising a damn bouquet of roses, “Heeeeey, just who I wanted to see! Wanna take a guess at who your secret admirer is? Hint, it’s me!”

Oh, come the fuck on.

Nate must have noticed a deranged look in your eye seeing as he took an awkward step back he clearly hadn’t planned on. From behind you could hear the heavy thudding of feet as Lee and Thompson had finally caught up. Great. You looked both ways. They had an expectant expression on their faces that you couldn’t make sense of.

“Alright, alright, break it up you hormonal goblins. Get BACK, I say!”

Stanley’s voice was like the calm in the storm. It gave you something to focus and center yourself on. You hadn’t even noticed him stepping closer to you before it was too late. Two strong hands clamped around the delicate curve of your waist while thick fingers tickled into your skin. The grasp had a shiver run up your spine. Then what started as a tender embrace quickly became a vice when you were lifted off of your feet.

You actually squeaked. In a display of strength you thought only adrenaline could achieve Stanley had hoisted you above his head and out of reach from your ‘admirers’. Like the tallest kid playing ‘keep away’ in the schoolyard. From below you could see the three teen’s jaws drop at the display while a nearby customer asked if this was part of the tour.

Stan must have heard it since a blush came to his cheeks a moment after yet he refused to release you, “We’ll, uh…just go for now. Break time and whatnot…WENDY, MAN THE STORE!” He shouted while beginning to push his way back towards the employee area of the shack. It wasn't until he was passing staring customers he coughed out a reluctant, “Stop watching and we’ll have a ‘buy two, get one full price’ sale.”

That disappeared the crowd quickly who were now buzzing with excitement at the prospect of a deal. Stanley began to walk you back. With no eyes on the two of you, Stan cautiously began to lower you down. Not to your feet, however. Instead you were brought back into his chest where you had more cushion to lay against. Despite the summer heat his body warmth only drew you in. Not to even get started on how hot your face already was from blushing for the last few minutes!

Stanley meanwhile had his eyes glued to the path ahead. Afraid that taking one glance in your direction would make him regret coming to your rescue at all and depriving himself the chance of seeing you blush longer. Though it was certainly a motivator to have a couple of guys flinging compliments your way so freely as well. God. Wasn’t he too old to be getting into a pissing contest with teens at this point?

Too old in general. Both with having a silly school crush on his employee and also trying to lug you around as if he was twenty years younger. Stan made it look easy but his back pain would be coming back with a vengeance tomorrow!

With your hand resting against his chest though it was hard to deny it was worth it.

Having led you towards the back office Stanley stepped in and used his back foot to kick the door shut behind you two, blocking the light from the shop to leave you in near darkness if it wasn’t for the rare ray of light peering from behind the closed blinds. Without the stark lighting the office was almost calming in contrast. That, or you loved hearing Stanley’s steady breathing more than you realized or the soft beating of his heart if you concentrated on your hand long enough.

Stan moved for the desk. It was crowded with various papers and trinkets he’d keep around to distract himself. At first you had thought he had been in search of something in particular until his hands shifted, with one suddenly slipping just under your butt to keep you hoisted up while the now free one began to clear a space for you.

Your entire posture stiffened once consumed with the realization that your boss was, to put it crudely, grabbing your ass. In spite of how rough they looked, his hands were tender. Mindful. Which judging from his expression you doubted he noticed where he placed his hand at all while tidying up his desk. You were grateful for the distraction. That way he couldn’t see the conflict in your eyes on whether you liked the contact or not after the day you had.

“Here we go…” His rumbling voice brought you back from the brink of a new meltdown as he settled you down onto the hard surface of the desk with your legs dangling over the edge. Yet his hands didn’t leave. Instead they attached back to around your waist with a feather light touch, as if the first hint of disapproval at the contact would knock them back. You showed no such sign, so they stayed.

“You, ah…all good, then?” Stanley seemed to have trouble meeting your eye, “From the dorks. I mean, they hang around Wendy all the time and get into shit, yeah, but they’re not dangerous or nothing. But if they had hurt ya-”

“I’m fine, Stanley,” You said with a soft and assuring tone, “Traumatized, maybe, but…Thank you for saving me.”

He nearly buckled at the ice-melting smile you gave him. For just a moment his fingers tapped against your skin as if they had been tempted to clasp around you tighter. They didn’t. Instead Stanley appeared to realize how close the two of you had gotten and shuffled out of the way, taking his body heat with him as he turned his back towards you to instead fixate his attention elsewhere in the room. Anywhere but you.

Stanley nodded after what seemed an eternity, “No problem. Besides, it’d be bad for the brand to have so many ‘Mr. Mystery’ running around! It’s protected IP!”

At that you found yourself chuckling, “Is this your way of saying you’re tired of hearing about the flowers?” Not that you’d blame him considering what a hot topic it was when it had first happened.

First, Mabel couldn't ignore any degree of romantic gesture without her wanting to be involved with it. Second, this was a small town with nothing to do on the good days. Toby Determined even tried to get an interview (How word got out was beyond you) and Stanley again had to come to your rescue by chasing him off with a broom. With today’s incident you began to worry that this would be a monthly chore for Stanley.

At the suggestion of Stanley getting irritated about anything involving you nearly made him jump to correct that assumption, “NO, I could listen to it aaaall day! Just not going to just stand around and let a couple of liars waltz in to take credit for it.” He said, “I mean, c’mon, they really think those flowers were from the grocery store? Please, I- whoever has way more class than that!”

You giggled at that, which was nice considering how embarrassed you were earlier. But Stan always did put you at ease with all the jokes or lax attitude he’d have to offer no matter the situation. What others found frustrating you found endearing.

“For all the class that he has, you’d think he’d have come forward by now, don’t you think?”

He gave you a look, “What do you mean?”

“Just that it’s been all summer since it’s happened. Not a word since,” You shrug and take your turn to stare somewhere else, “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound demanding or anything. But you gotta admit it’s rude to leave someone on edge like that, you know? Just makes me think they lost interest or something.”

Stanley didn’t reply. After seemingly going out of his way to avoid looking at you, you were all he could stare at now. His lips were drawn in a tight frown that settled unnaturally on his face. You were so used to his smiles. Now your boss had an odd expression of contemplation. The way his darkened eyes bore into you made you squirm where you sat, anxiously squeezing your legs together to try and keep your blush at bay.

It was an achievement that you were able to hold a normal conversation with him at all. After the shocking realization that you were disappointed that Stanley never took credit for the original gift, your time at the Mystery Shack had gotten far more difficult outside of the daily threat to your life. Especially when Mabel was like a bloodhound when it came to romance. And when there wasn’t any to be found you could be damn sure that she’d create your own, one way or the other. She was a menace.

“Kid, listen, I-”

“I guess I should-”

Your words quickly amalgamated until the two of you stopped to give the other an apologetic glance. Then silence again. Each prompting the other to continue their dialogue with a vague hand gesture. Both of your hesitancy grew with conflicted gazes.

“I-”

“I-” Stanley slapped his hand over his face to muffle his groan, “Oh, goddammit.”

You flinched at the frustration in his words, “Sorry, sorry! I was just trying to say I should go back to work if they’re all gone.”

Preparing to hop off of the desk you were instead met with Stanley’s large hands suddenly pinning yours to the desk before you could push off. His fingers nearly interlaced with yours. They were trembling. He was towering over you again to the point you had to arch your back to make room for him. Seeing this he released one of your hands to instead place his on the small of your back, supporting your posture.

Stanley’s face was now inches from yours. What little light that came into the room reflected off of his glasses and obscured his eyes. Could he have been taking in your flushed face and wide eyes? Or perhaps he was taking notice of your parted lips. You hoped it was that.

“I…I wasn’t swearing at ya. Just frustrated that I’m not being as smooth as I wanna be,” Stanley spoke in a tone far softer than you’ve ever experienced. With his voice rumbling in his chest it was like a soothing purr. He then swallowed what must have been a lump in his throat, “Listen, it was…It was me who-”

You captured him in a kiss. It was neither passionate or loving, but something new. It was potential. In this instance it was the best kiss you’ve ever had with chapped lips. Intended to be a quick peck you could still feel Stanley’s hands grasp you tighter as his entire posture grew stiff.

A second passes and you pull back, “I’m sorry, I should have let you finish,” You laughed, both at your overexcitement and his stunned expression, “I’ve been waiting to hear you say it. Keep going, please.”

Stanley didn’t respond right away as he instead simply stared at you. It was blatantly obvious when the reality of the situation began to hit him as his signature grin stretched across his face. How could an old man be so cute?

“So, uh-” He cleared his throat, “Guess I was saying that I’m the Mr. Mystery. Both at work and as your secret admirer, though I guess not that secret if you knew…Anyways I really like ya! You’ve got spunk, looks, smarts. I mean, how was I not supposed to send any sorta flowers- You get the point!”

This time he drew you in for a kiss. His was more brash and needy as if you’d change your mind at the last second. Using his grip on you he brought you closer until your bodies were pressed against each other and he slotted between your legs to fit. So intimately close yet born from the innocent need of wanting to be near you. This kiss lasted as long as you had air in your lungs.

The both of you parted from the kiss with a dopey smile.

“I didn’t necessarily know, by the way…” You mention after catching your breath, “Just realized how much I wanted it to be you after Wendy suggested it had been sent by someone else.”

Stan hummed in amusement while his hand began to rub up and down the curve of your back, “That so? Guess all that was just your way of getting to confess, eh? Gotta admit, that’s unexpected. But sneaky. I like it!”

“What?” You tilted your head in question, “You mean what happened with all of her friends? I was just starting to think that was you.”

He shook his head. The sweet mood was paused as the both of you had a confused look while playing the strange events over in your head. Stanley snapped you out of it by giving you a squeeze; with it a reminder of your new flourishing relationship with your boss Stanley Pines. You looked back up to see his grin return and a new twinkle in his eye.

“Ehh, we can figure that out some other time, toots,” He said with a wave of his hand to push the thoughts away, “Besides, we probably have a few minutes to uh, make up for lost time, if you get what I mean.” Stanley wiggled his eyebrows at you and made you giggle.

“Depends. Does this count as my break, Stanley?”

“It absolutely does.”

“What? C’mooooon, man.”

__ Outside of the Mystery Shack, hidden amongst the trees and brush, was the sharp glare of the sun reflecting off of glass. Binoculars, to be exact. Behind them being a young girl who wore a thick sweater in spite of the heat. She was biting down on her tongue in concentration as she scanned the building from one window to the next. Where could they be?

From beside her the bushes began to rustle. The noise attracted her attention and she turned in time to capture the magnified image of Wendy’s growing teen pimples as she stepped out from the woods. Mabel chose not to comment on this.

“Status report!” Mabel said in a tone far too commanding for a young girl like her to have. Regardless of this Wendy saluted.

“Mission happened, I guess,” Wendy gave a half-assed thumbs up, “The boys kind of went crazy in there so we didn’t get the romantic confession you dreamed of exactly. But they’re alone, at least?”

“Why, they went crazy under my order, lieutenant! Their goal was to be crazy in love,” She emphasized her words with a dramatic close of her first brought close to her chest, “And nooooow I’m trying to see the romantic confession but they have the blinds closed! Could you imagine trying to hide your love?! It’s inconvenient!!”

As if paranoid something would happen without her watchful eye Mabel returned to her vigilant duty of watching a closed window. Wendy meanwhile had her gaze darted away a moment as if struggling to find what to say. Eventually she rubbed the back of her neck and coughed to get her young friend’s attention,

“You know, it’s…probably a good thing the window is closed if your plan did work, Mabel. I don’t think you’d want to see what you think you’d be seeing.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re prooobably swapping spit right now, Mabel.”

Instantly the binoculars clattered against the hard ground as Mabel nearly convulsed, “Eew, ew, EW! And that’s too much of a picture for Mabel!” Quickly she climbed out of her hiding spot in the bushes to begin following Wendy who was laughing, “I gotta go wash out my mind’s eye now!” "That's probably for the best. Let's just trust them to move that last step themselves, alright, cupid?"

Both girls were laughing now as they returned to the Mystery Shack while patting each other on the back for a job well-done.

[schlatt-love-bot]

The Babysitters Club

Babysitter Schlatt x Babysitter Reader Headcanon

Had a quite a bit of fun writing this one, paternal Schlatt really gets my heart going LMAO

Enjoy!

You and Schlatt were best friends in high school, and being best friends with a future entrepreneur only meant one thing–you were in for a LOT of money making schemes

“Well, we tried the lemonade stand, got told we’re too old…got fired from our bodega jobs for goofing off too much…what is there left for us to do?”

You could see the gears in Schlatt’s brain begin to turn, as all of a sudden he perked up. He came up with something

“Hmm…you like kids, right (Y/N)?” 

“Uhh…I guess you could say that? Why?” 

“I know the perfect business for us.”

Lo and behold, Schlatt and Co.’s Babysitting Service was created 

Schlatt would arrange a babysitting schedule for you, and most of the time you would go out on your own, babysit the kids, and split profits with him for managing your schedule

Sometimes, though, depending on how many kids were in one home, or how many sessions you had in a day, Schlatt would step up and give you a hand

Today was one of those days, as he scheduled you to solo-babysit one toddler from 12 to 3, but at 5:00? You had 5 children to keep an eye on, one who was only a few months old and the eldest being 9-almost-10 years old

Knowing you’d have your work cut out for you in the beginning of the day, chasing a toddler around a park while Mom and Dad were at a meeting, Schlatt decided he would be a kind best friend and boss and help you out

Not to mention, this was an overnight babysitting venture, and Schlatt was looking for any opportunity to spend a little extra time with you 

“So, how was the kid this afternoon?” 

“Good! He just wouldn’t stop running around, I felt like I was chasing a dog all afternoon.” 

Schlatt knocked on the door to your next house, the parents frantically opening the door, rushing you in to give you the basic breakdown before rushing out

“If you need anything, there’s our emergency contact numbers posted on the fridge, there’s a binder of basic information on our little monsters on the wet bar in the kitchen, next to that is some money to buy a pizza for dinner tonight. Need anything, call Grandma, she lives up the street. Thanks, see you both in the morning!” 

They practically ran out of the house, as you heard the 5 month old let out a whining cry, and the two eldest children began running laps around the two of you

You looked at Schlatt, your eyes wide, this was definitely going to be your biggest challenge yet

“You take the youngin’s, I’ll take the older shits?” 

“Yes, please!”

You made your way over to the crib, which housed the 5 month old, and sitting next to the 5 month old inside an adjacent playpen were a 2 year old and a 5 year old, playing with various toys

You picked up the 5 month old and instinctively began to rock the baby, making small talk with the other two kids about what toys they were playing, and other things they generally seemed interested 

“Is screen time okay for these two, or are we going the organic, touch grass way with these rugrats?” 

“Hmmm, check the binder. Mom and Dad probably have rules about screen time, maybe after dinner?” 

You heard the two kids, and Schlatt, let out a sigh of disappointment, as you watched Schlatt convince the two boys it was perfect baseball weather, and out they went

“Say, girls, do you want to go and play with some of your patio toys? It’s such a gorgeous day out, we shouldn’t waste daylight!” 

You were met with many tiny “yes”s, walking with the baby still wrapped tightly in your arms

You and the girls began to play with some of the chalk they had laying out on the patio pavement, teaching the girls how to draw out squares for hopscotch, telling them how to play

You couldn’t help yourself from sneaking glances every once in a while to Schlatt and the other two kiddos out on the lawn, Schlatt tossing low balls to the boys, acting like they knocked them out of the ballpark and insisting they “ran the bases” around him 

A smile crept up on your face, you began to grow a little jealous of whoever would be spending their lives parenting with him

“Man, you like him don’t you!” 

You whipped your head around, seeing the 5 year old staring at you, as her 2 year old sister stood behind her, snickering

“W-what? Absolutely not, we’re good friends. What do you know about liking someone, hmm?” 

“That’s the same look my mommy gives my daddy every single day!” 

You felt your cheeks begin to heat, needing to figure out a way to avoid these two little children from grilling you any further 

“Girls, why don’t we go in and get you cleaned up, you’re covered in chalk. Maybe we can see what’s in your cupboards and make ourselves a little treat, huh?”

The girls were eager to do so, running past you and into the house

The little one in your arms wound up a bit fussy, so you placed her into 

All washed up and ready to go, the girls drug you over to a box of cake mix, insisting that you help them make cupcakes 

You didn’t want to use anything without permission, though, so you sent a quick text over to mom and dad to make sure they were okay with you using the box mix with the kids

They were ecstatic you weren’t just shoving their tablets in their faces, so they absolutely allowed you to bake with them

The girls were excited, donning their little aprons they had stored in the pantry

Baby started to get interested in what was going on, peering over the edge of the playpen, so you picked her up and carried her (and a toy, just in case) over to a high chair in the kitchen

The girls excitedly showed you were everything was that you would need, and you let them have total control over adding things to the mixing bowl (fishing out egg shells, when necessary)

By the time the cupcakes went into the oven, the boys came walking into the house, dirty and sweaty, and their pants definitely stained from sliding in the dirt outside

“Schlatt!”

“What? He needed to slide into home plate, otherwise he would’ve gotten out! You wouldn’t understand!” 

Despite the unexpected bath times, the rest of the night went rather smoothly

Schlatt and yourself wrangled the kids together for some pizza dinner, allowing them to decorate their own cupcakes for dessert afterwards, and once their bellies were all full, it was time to wind things down for the night 

You tucked the baby into her crib, heading to the girl’s room to tuck them in and read a little story to them

On your way there, you glanced into the boy’s room, seeing Schlatt making sure that both the 7 and 9 year olds were set and ready for bed, telling them tales from his baseball experiences (he was the best first baseman in your school, after all) 

You didn’t want to get caught staring, so you continued forward and to the girl’s room

You helped the two put on their pajamas, tucking them in their beds before sitting in the rocking chair by both of their beds, having “Goodnight Moon” picked from the shelf to read tonight 

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air…Goodnight noises everywhere!” 

By the time you finished, both girls had their eyes closed tight, peacefully asleep

You smiled to yourself, content with how the evening has gone, looking up to see Schlatt leaned against the doorframe, the same smile painted on his lips

Heat crept up your cheeks as you placed the book back on their bookshelf, heading out of the room and downstairs to the living room with him

“So…that wasn’t so bad after all, huh?”

“Well, toots, we sure do make a pretty good team…” 

He slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer 

“Y’know…I think I saw a new side of you today. You playing ball with those two…I never seen you so…soft before.” 

“What can I say, baby, kids have a special way of makin’ a person soft...” 

He hesitated continuing, but your raised brow made him go on

“And…seeing you with that baby on your hip, the girls in the kitchen…you’re gonna be a perfect mom some day, (Y/N).” 

You began to blush, looking up at him, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were 

Before you could ask, Schlatt excused himself to the kitchen, coming back with two cupcakes in his hands, handing you one before sitting back down on the couch 

“You worked hard on these with the girls, you deserve a little treat too, princess.” 

He smirked, before swiping his cupcake against your nose, making your jaw drop

“Hey! What was that for?” 

“Whoops, here, let me get that…” 

He leaned forward, kissing the icing off your nose, his eyes plotting 

“Hmm, hold on…I think you’ve got a little something here…” 

You took this opportunity to smoosh your cupcake against his mouth, and before he had the chance to speak, you quickly leaned in, kissing him on the lips

He didn’t back off, answering your question from earlier as to if he felt the same

In fact, he swiftly put his cupcake down on the coffee table in front of you, grabbing your cheeks to deepen the kiss

“Ewww!”

“I told you so! Mommy and Daddy do the same thing after we bake together!” 

You quickly backed up, looking up the stairs to see all 4 of the kids out of bed, peering over the banister 

“Little shits, I swear to God…” 

You laughed, wiping the icing from your face before heading upstairs to put all the kids back into bed, making sure they stayed asleep this time, before heading back downstairs to see Schlatt fast asleep on the couch 

Sighing contently, you crawled onto the couch next to him, placing your head nearby his chest before slowly falling asleep yourself, feeling an arm wrap around you to pull you closer

[alwayssassydreamer]

Between Two Beasts

inspired by this art

A/N: because of my weird brain that seems to be crushing on these handsome bastards, and the amazing @lxshoxk drawing i got inspired to write this strange combination, sorry this got kinda long if i hadn't stopped myself this would've been even longer Word count over 5k

Plot: you are one of Crocodiles most trusted and loyal agents and been in a relationship with him for some time and when the cross guild meets the red hair pirates you catch sight of shanks' handsome first mate and tease crocodile about how you would love to seduce Beckman and Crocodile giving you the go though not without warning you and soon you find yourself between two dominant beasts

Warnings: kinda "mean" Beckman, teasing, edging, oral (give and receive), voyeurism, p in v, threesome, age gap (or at least that'swhat i had in mind while writing), everything consensual, not proofread, ⚠️ MDNI ⚠️

Characters: Beckman x F!Reader x Sir Crocodile

The Cross Guild’s arrival at the Red Hair Pirates’ territory was nothing short of a spectacle. Buggy and Shanks had already fallen into their usual chaotic banter, their voices carrying across the deck like the echoes of an old married couple. Shanks even managed to drag Mihawk into it all, though the latter tried to pretend he wasn’t involved in any of this.

But you weren’t paying any attention to them.

Your gaze had settled on Benn Beckman, the Red Hair Pirates’ first mate, lounging a short distance away with a cigarette perched between his fingers. He was watching the chaos with lazy amusement, broad shoulders relaxed, an air of quiet confidence wrapped around him like an old, well-worn coat.

Something about him caught your interest maybe it was the way his sharp eyes held intelligence, or the roughness to his features that made him look like he’d seen more than his fair share of life’s ugliness. He was older, rugged, his gray hair slicked-back only making him look more refined.

You took a slow sip of your drink and smirked. “Damn,” you mused just loud enough for Crocodile to hear, tilting your head as you admired Beckman shamelessly. "He's almost as attractive as you"

A scoff beside you. “Hn.”

Crocodile barely looked at you, his cigar resting between his fingers, eyes flicking toward Beckman before settling back on the horizon. Unimpressed.

Your smirk widened. “What? You jealous?”

His gaze slid to you now, sharp and unreadable. “Hardly. You just seem to have a loud mouth.”

"And you love that mouth" you teased.

He took a drag from his cigar, exhaling the smoke in a slow, measured breath though he couldn't hide the small smirk. “Go ahead. See if you can charm him.”

It was a challenge, laced with amusement and something darker beneath the surface.

Your lips curled as you leaned against the railing. “Oh? You think I can’t?”

Crocodile chuckled low, shaking his head. “I think he’d fuck you, sure.” His voice dipped into something dangerous, something possessive. “But you wouldn’t last a day with him AND me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

“Because you’re blind to what’s beneath that quiet charm.” He tapped ash from his cigar, eyes glinting. “Beckman isn’t what he seems, little flower. You know how bad I can be and that man is just as much a predator - he’s just better at hiding it.”

You blinked, glancing back at Beckman. To you, he looked relaxed, calm perhaps a little amused by Shanks’ antics, but otherwise indifferent. Gentle, even.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, right. Seems more like you're a little jealous and afraid that I might try something and now you wanna scare me off” you said sheepishly as you turned towards him your finger tracing over his shirt.

Crocodile chuckled again, but this time there was something knowing in it, something that made your skin prickle. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he put his hook under your chin and made you look up to him.

“You think he’s all soft words and charming smirks,” he murmured, “but put him in the right situation, and you’ll see what he’s really like.” He tilted his head, exhaling another slow cloud of smoke. “And trust me, little flower he wouldn’t say no to you.”

The way he said it sent a strange thrill through you. You had never really thought of Beckman that way. Sure, he was attractive, but you hadn’t considered that underneath his laid-back demeanor was something more, something just as dark, just as consuming as what you had with Crocodile.

You turned back toward Beckman, your eyes narrowing slightly in thought.

And then Beckman looked at you.

It wasn’t a fleeting glance. It wasn’t dismissive.

His eyes met yours, steady and unreadable, and for a brief moment, something flickered in them, something that made your pulse quicken, as he gave you an almost knowing smirk.

Crocodile dragged his cigar to his lips as if he could already see the wheels turning in your head.

“Go on, then,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement. “See for yourself.”

“You wouldn’t last a day with him and me.”

You had laughed, brushing it off. Beckman was attractive, sure, but he wasn’t Crocodile. He didn’t carry that same raw, overwhelming presence, that coiled danger thrumming beneath his skin like an unspoken promise. Beckman was smooth, relaxed, casual in a way that had fooled you into thinking he was just another man who knew how to charm a lady.

So when you made your move with flirty smiles, teasing words, just enough touch to test the waters, you thought you were in control.

Oh but how wrong you were.

You realized it the moment Beckman’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in with effortless strength, his cigarette-stained breath warm against your ear.

“You sure about this, sweetheart?” His voice was slow, deep, amused. But there was something else there, something Crocodile had warned you about.

You felt the shift in the air before you fully processed it. The moment the game you thought you were playing flipped on its head.

Beckman wasn’t chasing.

He was hunting.

Before you could say anything, he had you pinned against the nearest surface, the full weight of his body pressing into yours, not crushing, but holding you exactly where he wanted you. His knee nudged between your thighs spreading them, his hands warm and firm as they pinned yours to the surface behind you.

His grip on your wrists was unyielding, pinning them above your head as he held you in place. Every move you made only reminded you of how much control he had over you. You couldn’t escape his grasp - not even a little.

You gasped, and that damn smirk of his deepened.

“You come looking for trouble, and you find it.”

You shivered, a thrill of something familiar crawling up your spine. This wasn’t the playful seduction you had in mind. Beckman was slow, methodical - patient in a way that made your skin prickle with anticipation. He didn’t rush, didn’t let you pull away, but he also didn’t let you fully catch your breath.

And then, when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, you heard Crocodile’s low, dark chuckle. He sat there like a king his cigar between his lips and a glass of whiskey in his hand as he watched with unconcealed amusement.

“What happened to all that confidence, little flower?” His voice was thick with enjoyment.

Your breath hitched, your face burning as you turned your head, glaring at him. “You—”

Crocodile exhaled a long, slow cloud of smoke, watching the way Beckman’s hands skimmed over your body with practiced ease. “You ignored my warning,” he murmured, voice like silk and sand. “Now look at you.”

Beckman hummed in agreement, his grip tightening slightly as his lips brushed just below your ear.

“I gotta say,” Beckman mused, “I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

The words sent a rush of heat straight to your core, and the smug bastard knew it.

You wanted to reclaim even a sliver of control, but Beckman wasn’t letting you. And Crocodile? He was enjoying this. Shamelessly. He made no move to intervene - not yet. He just sat there, watching, letting Beckman have you for now.

Beckman’s grip on your wrists shifted until only one of his hands held both of yours. His fingers trailed down over your lips and throat, his voice dipping lower. “Still think you can handle me, sweetheart?”

You had walked into this thinking you could seduce him but instead, you had become the prey. And god how much you loved it.

And Crocodile knew it.

The way he sat there, legs spread lazily, cigar smoldering between his fingers, drink in hand was infuriating. Amusing himself at your expense, watching you squirm under Beckman’s hands, under the weight of your own miscalculation.

You wanted this, don’t pretend otherwise, his eyes told you.

And Beckman was taking his time.

“I don’t think she realizes what she’s gotten herself into.” Beckman’s voice was a slow drawl, filled with something dark, something knowing.

Crocodile, exhaling a stream of smoke. “Oh, she does.” His gaze burned through you, drinking in the way your breath hitched as Beckman pressed you tighter against the wall. “She craves this.”

You wanted to deny it to throw something sharp and biting at Crocodile, to wipe that smug smirk off his face. But Beckman’s hands - large, calloused, patient - were making it impossible to think.

“You’ve been playing with fire, sweetheart.” Beckman’s lips brushed your jaw, deceptively gentle. His fingers skimmed over your sides, gripping your hips, holding you there as his knee nudged up higher between your thighs. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you what happens to girls who tease too much?”

Your pulse thundered. You swallowed, but no words came.

Crocodile hummed, tipping his cigar between his fingers. “They get put in their place.”

The heat in your gut twisted violently. Crocodile had done this to you before, had made you crumble under the weight of his control, had torn you apart just to put you back together again. But this—this was different. This was both of them.

“You could’ve stopped me,” you managed to say, voice weaker than you wanted.

Crocodile grinned, slow and cruel. “Could’ve.” He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on his knee, watching you fall apart in real time. “Didn’t want to otherwise I'd have missed this show.”

Beckman’s fingers traced up your spine, curling at the base of your neck. “I can see why he keeps you,” he murmured, lips just barely grazing your skin.

You sucked in a sharp breath, heart hammering. Every nerve in your body was screaming, caught between the ruthless attention of them both.

Crocodile took a sip from his drink like a king surveying his entertainment. “Go on, then,” he purred, voice thick with amusement. “Let’s see if you can handle him.”

Your stomach flipped, heat rushing through you because from the way Beckman’s grip tightened, from the way his breath fanned against your throat, from the raw, hungry look in his eyes -

You weren’t sure you could but hell you were willing to let him do whatever he wanted.

And Crocodile was going to enjoy every second watching you.

Beckman’s hands let go of yours and they roamed with slow, predatory ease, mapping out every inch of you, his body pressing firm against yours, caging you in. His scent - smoke, salt, and something deep and masculine - was intoxicating, dizzying even.

Your own trembling hands reached for his shirt skittering over the muscules beneath it.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured teasingly against your skin, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

Beckman was relentless. Every touch, every word, every slow, teasing drag of his fingers was deliberate testing you, stretching you to your limits. And Crocodile, the bastard, just sat there, watching, reveling in your unraveling.

“You wanted this,” Beckman reminded you, voice slow, low, dark. His eyes flicked past you, toward Crocodile, before returning to yours with something sharper, something dangerous. “Didn’t you?”

He took his time, dragging his fingertips down your ribs, forcing a shudder from you. Then, his lips brushed your ear again, his voice silky and deliberate. “You wanted to play, sweetheart. But you’re not in charge here.”

Crocodile watching from the sidelines, with eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. A slow, deliberate puff of smoke curled from his cigar, and he leaned back casually.

You gasped as Beckman’s thumb ran over the curve of your waist, a soft, gentle pressure that made your breath hitch and your back arch. You needed more. But he wasn't giving you more not yet and your body trembled with frustration.

And then, just as your frustration reached its peak, his fingers traced the edge of your collarbone. You gasped, biting your lip to stop from moaning.

“You like this, don’t you?” Beckman whispered, as though reading your mind. “Like being pinned down, unable to do anything but take it.”

His hand slid up to your throat, not squeezing, just resting there, thumb tracing lazy circles against your pulse and your breath hitched and your knees buckled when his teeth bit down on your collarbone

Crocodile laughed, deep and rich, the sound sending a sharp spike of heat through your core. “Look at you,” he mused, eyes glinting with pleasure. “Fucking ruined already.”

"Am not" you breathed though you didn't sound very convincing.

Beckman’s hand moved from your throat down to the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath it making you shiver visibly as it at first gently caressed your belly before moving higher but stopping before he got where you wanted him making you whine.

You could feel the heat radiating from Beckman’s body as his hands moved to your sides, fingers brushing your skin lightly. It was almost cruel how gentle he was, his touch so calculated it sent waves of tension rippling through your entire body.

"You’re so sensitive," Beckman murmured, his voice rough and low in your ear. His thumb traced the curve of your hip, barely grazing it, but the sensation made your heart race. He felt your breath hitch, and a smirk curved on his lips. "Can’t even stand a simple touch, can you?"

He leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. For a moment, his hands moved lower, tracing the waistband of your pants, and the tension in your body spiked.

“Does it feel good to be this helpless?” Beckman teased, his voice a hushed growl that made you shiver. His hands roamed, slow and possessive, pushing you towards the brink of madness.

Crocodile watched intently, his eyes flashing as he leaned forward slightly, voice barely above a whisper. "Let him have his fun, but don’t forget who you belong to." His words settled over you like a weight, reminding you that your submission to Beckman didn't mean you were his, no you belonged to Crocodile.

As you arched your back Beckman’s hand slid up your spine, feeling the tremble of your body under his touch. He pulled you closer to press his lips against yours in a rough, possessive almost punishing kiss. His tongue swept into your mouth as his hand gripped your hair, tilting your head to give him better access.

You gasped, overwhelmed by the heat of his kiss and the need that built inside you. Crocodile chuckled softly, and it sent a shiver through you.

Beckman’s fingers curled against your jaw, tilting your face toward his. “I think she’s close,” he murmured, amusement laced in every word.

“You love it don't you sweetheart. Being put in your place.” He leaned forward slightly, watching your lips part, your eyes flutter. “Look at you. A mess already.”

Your nails dug into Beckman’s arm, searching for something to ground you, but all you found was the steady, unrelenting strength of a man who wasn’t letting go.

Your breath hitched again as Beckman’s hand trailed lower, fingers rough and teasing your inner thigh and his lips attacked your neck with soft kisses and blissfully painful bites.

Beckman smirked against your skin, his voice a low, husky murmur. “Still think you’re the one in control, sweetheart?”

And then you moaned. Not too loud but you still did .

"Looks like someone is a little needy" Crocodile taunted, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Go on, beg for it."

A small whimper escaped your lips "please"

Crocodile smirked. “Louder.”

"Fuck I need you." you gasped.

Beckman’s lips curled into a smirk. His fingers slipped into your pants tracing over your cunt before teasing your entrance. His movements were slow, controlled—each one calculated to make you ache for more, to make you crave the release he was so deliberately withholding. He let the palm of his other hand rest against your ribs, pressing firmly enough that you couldn’t move, couldn’t squirm, just forced to feel the control he had over you.

“So wet already. Tell me you want it,” Beckman said softly, but his words were an order as he teasingly let one finger slip inside you. “Tell me you need me to touch you properly.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your pulse was racing. You were panting. Begging for the release that was just out of reach.

“You heard him,” Crocodile’s voice was like a whip, sharp and demanding. “Say it, tell him how much you want it. You know you want to.”

Beckman withdrew his fingers and pulled his hand out of your pants only to have his thumb trace circles on your inner thigh inching closer to where you wanted him again, his touch like fire, but never where you needed it most. “Say it,” he repeated, his voice quiet but unwavering.

The pressure of his body against yours was unbearable, his form completely blocking your escape. Every part of you ached with need, yet you were still held in place and denied. Your mind was starting to spiral, but you couldn’t help it. You could feel how much you needed to surrender, how you were breaking under their combined presence. As Beckman coaxed moan after moan and whimper after whimper out of you.

Until your voice cracked, the words spilling out of you like a whispered confession.

“Please... touch me... properly.” you moaned.

Beckman chuckled softly, and Crocodile’s dark chuckle joined in, like a predator savoring a kill.

“Good girl,” Beckman murmured his fingers ghosting over the waistline of your pants, before pulling them down letting them fall to the floor leaving you in your underwear.

His fingers moved closer to your center teasing you through the fabric and just when you thought he might finally give you what you needed he pulled back. Making you whimper in frustration.

And Crocodile was watching it all unfold, enjoying your torment. “You should’ve known better,” he sneered. “You’re not in charge here. Not anymore.”

Beckman’s grip on you was firm, unyielding, holding you in place with the same effortless control he used to steady his rifle. His touch was rough where it needed to be, teasing where it could drive you mad. He was patient - too patient - drawing every reaction from you like he had all the time in the world to play. Enjoying the way you squirmed underneath him.

Meanwhile Crocodile's eyes never left you, and though he remained in his seat, his entire body betrayed him - the way his fingers gripped the armrest, how his jaw tightened at every moan you let slip, every way your back arched, the growing tension in his posture. You knew exactly what he was thinking - he was dying to join in his possessiveness taking over.

At one point, as Beckman’s fingers slipped inside your underwear again teasing you making you moan and grip Beckman's shirt tightly Crocodile leaned forward, eyes gleaming, and his voice barely more than a dangerous whisper. “I don’t know how much longer I can watch you enjoy this, hear you make all these sweet sounds, little flower.” His words were slow, deliberate, like a promise, but the tension in his voice made it clear that he couldn't hold back much longer.

The heat in the air was palpable, thick with unsaid things. Crocodile’s smirk was devilish as he rose and stepped behind you hand teasingly tracing over your back. The tension in the air thickening.

Beckman’s fingers continued to graze your skin, slow and deliberate, teasing just enough to leave you breathless. The heat of his touch was relentless, each passing second made you ache for more, yet he refused to give you what you craved. His voice, low and dark, came in a whisper near your ear.

“You’ve been so patient,” he said, his words dripping with mockery and lust. His finger traced down to the hem of your shirt and with a swift motion pulled it over your head revealing that you were bare beneath it.

"Naughty girl" you heared Crocodile whisper in your ear from behind and sending a shiver down your spine. Beckman was now tracing a finger from your collarbone down between your breasts to the waistband of your underwear, just barely grazing your skin, sending a jolt through your body making you shiver, the sensation maddening as Crocodile held you in place.

The heat between your legs was unbearable. Every breath felt heavy, each word from them adding weight to your chest, making it harder to breathe. You were trembling, unable to escape the pull of their dominance.

As Beckman’s hand slipped lower, tracing the curve of your waist, Crocodile let his hook trace over your neck down to your breast while his hand gripped your hair tilting your head back.

“You thought you could take control, didn’t you?” His voice dangerously calm. “You’ve got so much fire in you - so much confidence. But now, you’ll see what happens when you’re caught in the middle of us."

You wanted to answer but all you got out was a loud moan as you felt Beckman’s lips trail a path from your chest down to your underwear. He knelt down before tugging your underwear down ripping the fabric in the process. He looked at your naked form, held in place by Crocodile before he gripped your thighs to spread your legs a little wider and placed a warm kiss on your center making you moan loudly.

Meanwhile Crocodile shifted his attention to your breasts teasing one nipple with his fingers the other carefully with the tip of his hook.

Your head was spinning. Your body felt like it was on fire, stretched thin between the two of them.

"Oh fuck" you moaned as you felt Beck's tongue between your folds and his thumb circling your clit while Crocodile kept teasing your nipples mercilessly.

"That's it love, let me hear you, tell him how much you love this" Crocodile murmured into your neck his lips sucking on the sensitive skin.

"Fuck Beck, I.....I love it. I'm gonna......gonna cum" you gasped your back arching his mouth driving you crazy and Crocodile's teasing touches making you tremble. You threw your head back but without warning, Crocodile’s hand withdrew from your nipple and closed around your chin, forcing your head to look down to Beckman who had his eyes fixed on yours from between your legs his lips and tongue bullying your center relentlessly.

"Look at him, little flower. How he devours you, makes you feel so good" Crocodile grumbled in your ear his breath brushing against the side of your neck. As you had no choice but to look down.

“You wanted to tease us, didn’t you?” Crocodile’s voice was calm, but with a dangerous edge. He held your chin tightly, forcing your mouth to part slightly, tracing the line of your jaw before he slipped one finger inside your mouth for you to suck on it making him grunt lowly in your ear. “Now, look at him. Look at what you’ve caused.” His grip on your chin tightened, pulling your gaze back toward Beckman.

“You wanted this, didn’t you?�� You answered him with a moan against his finger. You were trembling, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. The way Beckman looked at you and Crocodile's verbal teases and grunts sent you over the edge and you came hard.

Crocodile pulled his finger out of your mouth as you gasped for breath, heart racing. When Beckman got up he kissed you to let you taste yourself and wrapping his arm around your waist to steady you while Crocodile made his way to the bed.

You felt Beckmans warmth pressing against you. His lips grazing your ear as he saw you look at Crocodile. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, voice low and almost playful, but laced with a dangerous edge, “you’ll get exactly what you deserve.” His hand slid around your waist, pulling you into him with an iron grip.

And in the next moment, you were utterly lost, your body betraying you as Beckman moved with precise, calculating intent, forcing you to your knees.

“That's it,” Crocodile purred from the bed, his voice low “Crawl to me. You like it, don’t you? How it feels when someone takes control.”

You looked up at him still exhausted from your orgasm yet you put your middle finger up. "Still so feisty" Crocodile mused. Yet you did crawl over to him, pushing him back down onto the bed straddling him and kissing him hungrily, ripping his shirt open. Crocodiles hand tangled into your hair pulling you closer his hook gracing your side, while your hands roamed his chest.

You gasped and flinched as Beckman’s hands teased the soles of your feet not outright tickling you but the touch still maddening, reminding you that he's still there and then moved up to the back of your thighs and the curve of your butt before he smacked it making you squeak into the kiss with Crocodile. His hands moved teasingly up and traced along your spine firm and possessive making you shudder. His fingertips making your skin burn and then another smack on your ass that made you squeal all while you continued your heated and passionate kiss with Crocodile his tongue sliding inside your mouth.

When you broke the kiss teeth pulling at his lower lip Crocodile smirked. "You didn't think I'd watch you without getting my own fair share did you?" He growled and you smirked.

"Of course not, you're still my number one" you purred into his ear giving his earlobe a bite before moving down to unbuckle his pants pulling them down. He was already hard.

“You sure you can handle both of us, sweetheart?” Beckman, still behind you, murmured lowly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You looked over your shoulder and smirked smugly at him.

Before giving Crocodile's shaft teasing kitten licks moving on to focusing on his tip. Smirking up at him as he growled almost animalistic. How you loved that sound.

Meanwhile Beckman grapped your hips and adjusted you for him making sure your ass was up. You were so focused on Crocodile's cock that you didn't even hear when Beckman unzipped his pants until you felt him aligning himself with your cunt.

Beckman’s tip was teasing your entrance while you slowly put Crocodile's cock in your mouth getting used to the stretch, making him grunt the moment he felt your warm lips around him, instinctively grabbing your hair and guiding you.

And as you began bobbing your head Beckman pushed inside you making you moan against Crocodile the vibration against his cock sending a shiver through him.

Soon the room was filled with low grunts, muffled moans and the creaking of the bed.

"Fuck love you're doing so good, I'm close and you better swallow it all" Crocodile grunted as his grip on your hair tightened the tip of his hook gracing your back.

You were moaning against him one hand playing with his balls while Beckman pushed into you from behind making your heart race, your body tremble and your eyes water from the pleasure. And then you felt the warmth in your mouth, Crocodile’s grip on your hair loosen.

"I'm cumming" he growled and you swallowed it all before slowly pulling away only to let out a loud moan as you felt Beckman’s hand reach for your clit rubbing it. His grip on your hip tightening surely leaving a bruise.

"Taking me so well sweetheart" he grunted increasing the pace, while Crocodile, still panting, moved his hand to fondle your breasts and tease your nipples.

It didn't take long for Beck and you to reach your own orgasm and when you did you screamed out in pleasure and collpased on your back on the bed.

You were spent. Every inch of your body felt like it was floating in a haze, limbs heavy and tingling with aftershocks. The heat still radiating through your skin. Your clothes were scattered across the room in a chaotic trail, discarded in the frenzy of passion and control that had washed over you.

Your body felt like lead, every muscle overworked and trembling because of what just happened. You barely registered the sheets against your skin, your mind too fogged with exhaustion and pleasure to focus on anything but the deep ache left behind.

Crocodile was the first to move, his broad frame resting beside you. He didn’t say anything at first, only watching you with that slow, satisfied smirk he always had when he pushed you to the edge. His hand, still warm from everything before, was gentle as he cupped your face, wiping away the sweat from your brow with the back of his hand before he let it drift down and over your stomach, an absentminded touch, possessive even.

Beckman, still catching his breath, stood at the edge of the bed, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the remnants of indulgence. His sharp eyes flickered down to you, amusement dancing in them as he took in your completely spent form. He chuckled, reaching for his cigarettes, the rasp of a match breaking the silence.

“Well, sweetheart,” he murmured, exhaling a slow stream of smoke, “I’ll give you credit, you aimed high. But you really thought you could handle me?” His smirk deepened as he leaned down, his fingers barely ghosting over your inner thigh, teasing, but without any real intent behind it anymore.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice still deep, a stark contrast to the tenderness of his touch. He placed a kiss on your thigh, slow and lingering, like a promise. You let out a soft, shaky breath, the sensation of his lips against your skin making your entire body shiver, even in your exhaustion. You were overwhelmed, your senses still spinning.

Crocodile’s grip on your waist tightened slightly - not possessive in an aggressive way, but just enough to remind Beckman, and you, of where you belong. “You thought you could play with both of us,” Crocodile mused, his voice rich with amusement. “Look at you,” he whispered, voice laced with something softer now. “Completely wrecked...” He tilted your chin up with his hook, forcing you to meet his gaze, even in your dazed state. “..completely used up.” His thumb brushed your lower lip, and you couldn’t help but lean into it, exhausted but still needing him.

Beckman hummed in agreement. “And she thought she could seduce me.” He grinned around his cigarette, eyes locked on you, knowing damn well that he had been the one in control the entire time. “Cute.”

You were too drained to even argue, your limbs too heavy to move, your mind still swimming in the haze of everything that just happened.

Crocodile watched you for a long moment before exhaling. He shifted, letting you rest against him, fingers absentmindedly stroking your hair. “Hope you learned your lesson,” he muttered, amused and satisfied. His touch was still possessive, but there was an undeniable love to it - a deep affection that made your heart race even as your body ached.

Beckman chuckled again and stepped back, rolling his shoulders as he grabbed his coat. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it,” he said, though there was still that teasing undertone in his voice. “Next time, sweetheart, just remember I don’t say no to a beautiful woman, though i doubt he will let us have a next time.” he added looking from you to Crocodile.

With that, he turned to leave and as the door closed behind him Crocodile gave you a knowing smirk. “You're lucky I gave in to your desire and let him play with you.”

His fingers brushed over your shoulder, his voice low and smug as he murmured, “Next time you get a stupid idea like that… I’ll remind you exactly who you belong to without letting anyone else have a taste. You belong to me, only me.”

You couldn’t help the weak, breathless smile that tugged at your lips, even though your body felt like it could barely function. You still felt that same fiery rush of desire, despite the exhaustion. Your mind was still a bit foggy, your limbs like jelly, but you were content—more content than you’d ever been.

His words sent a final shiver through your exhausted body. You knew, without a doubt, that this wasn’t just a lesson—it was a warning. And next time, Crocodile won’t be so generous.

“I’m yours,” you breathed, your voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.