#eric will help HIM escape

[azurem00n]

ztd shitposting

[lemon-wedges]

The thing about a tgaa phantom of the opera au is that...

Barok should be Christine. Barok being Christine means the phantom can be rumored to be the restless spirit of his late brother who use to own the opera house. That's why nobody is allowed to have those box seats during a performance (that klints favorite seat). And nobody other than barok is allowed to be the lead (to passify an angry spirit that can only hear his brother u_u).

And thats how u get Kazuma being "murdered" by the phantom when he's slated to be the new lead in an up coming show. And thats how you get Ryu traveling to Paris London to look into this mysterious ghost that killed his best friend and still haunting this singer 🤔

[masterhallmark]

Rant incoming

I feel like the problem with a lot of Disney's live action remakes (and arguably Wish) is they're trying to appeal to a crowd that no longer exists, namely the people who used to claim that the Disney Princesses were sexist.

All the interviews tend to include, "Well she's not chasing a MAN anymore" which...almost no one sees the princesses like that, anymore. Virtually NO ONE still believes the princesses are man-chasing sexist caricatures of women.

Cinderella is now hailed as an abuse victim who stayed strong long enough to get help to get out of her situation. Anyone who says she should have saved herself is basically regarded as a victim blamer. And it's very clear in the film she wasn't looking to marry the prince, she just wanted a night off. She was the only one who wasn't in line to meet him. She didn't find out she met the prince until he went looking for her!

Snow White is now hailed for her negotiation skills, ability to calm down after extreme stress (she had a moment of panic and had to cry for a bit, but who wouldn't after finding out The Queen hired someone to kill you?), and ability to take charge of a house of adult men. And again, she was an abuse victim, this time trying to escape ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS. While she dreamed of her prince, it was secondary to her main goal of SURVIVAL. There are also entire video essays about how Snow White gave hope to people during The Great Depression.

Everyone acknowledges that Ariel wanted to be human BEFORE meeting Eric. We all know she was a nerd hyperfixating on humans, and also standing up to her prejudiced father.

We understand Sleeping Beauty wasn't the main character, the Three Good Fairies were, AND PHILLIP WOULD NEVER HAVE BEATEN MALEFICENT WITHOUT THEM! He literally depended on them! WOMEN SAVED THE DAY! But even then, is it really such a sin for a girl to fantasize about romance and fall for someone with corny pickup lines?

We all understand Jasmine just wanted someone to treat her LIKE A PERSON. She rejected every Prince before Aladdin because they treated her like a prize. So why did they need her to want to be Sultan? How did that make her more feminist when she already wanted to be treated like an equal and have a say in her future? Is it only empowering if you want a career in politics?

We admire that Belle, despite living in a judgemental village, was kind to everyone (even though she found the village life dull), and her story teaches girls that the guy everyone else loves isn't always a good guy. What's sexist about teaching girls about red flags? And she didn't start being nice to The Beast until he started treating her with respect and kindness.

Do I really NEED to defend Mulan or Tiana? I think they speak for themselves.

Rapunzel was yet another abuse victim who just needed a little help to get out of her bad situation. In this case, she also needed to learn that she was an abuse victim, and that what Mother Gothel did WASN'T normal, much like many victims of gaslighting.

And don't get me started on the non-princess animals.

Perdita had a healthy relationship with Pongo to the point she was open to express her pregnancy fears to him, and was ready to TEAR APART Cruella's goons for daring to touch her puppies as well as adopting the other puppies. Like, she was so ferocious the goons mistook her for a hyena! She's basically that "I AM THAT GIRL'S MOTHER!" scene from SpyXFamily if Yor were a dog. She and her husband were a TEAM.....but they made a Cruella live action to turn her into a girlboss?! The literal animal abuser!? THAT'S the woman you wanted to put on a pedestal when Perdita was RIGHT THERE!?

Duchess kept her kittens calm after they had been catnapped and was classy as heck. Nice to everyone regardless of social class during a time period where that was uncommon.

Lady stood up to Tramp when she believed he had abandoned her and didn't really care about her. She found out he was a heartbreaker and was like, "Nuh uh. No. You are not doing that to me! You put me through enough."

Miss Bianca from The Rescuers was IN CHARGE the whole movie, and was willing to risk life and limb to save an innocent child. THAT TINY MOUSE TOOK ON ALLIGATORS! And she picked Bernard to accompany her because he was the only one who wasn't ogling her. And then in the sequel SHE DID IT ALL AGAIN! I wish I were as brave as her.

Like, the public haven't accused these ladies of being sexist caricatures since 2014 (Actresses and actors don't count, they're out of touch like the rest of Hollywood) yet Disney is operating under the assumption that the public still thinks that way, hence all the "sHe'S nOt AfTeR a MaN iN ThIs VeRsIOn" talk.

The live action remakes are trying to attract an audience that doesn't really exist much, anymore, and back when it did exist, was comprised mainly of people who didn't actually watch the films. The Disney princesses are no longer seen as sexist, and feminine qualities are no longer seen as weak or undesirable.

[rakiah]

i just want to to let you know that it was your art of vil with kid jack and leona with kid epel for that single parent leovil fic that really pulled me into leovil. i stumbled upon it by chance when scrolling through a vil blog and saw it reblogged and LOST MY DAMN MIND. particularly baby wolf jack. cause why am i now putting together an epic the musical/odyssey/illiad au for leovil?? (your art. your art is why) itll probably never escape my docs but. so far??

helen and penelope. cousins and princesses of sparta--their dads are brothers and co-ruled. penelope's mother was a water nymph (naiad, so freshwater) whereas helen was the daughter of zeus......soooo.....HEAR ME OUT!!!!!!

neige as helen. vil as penelope. now, i was originally gonna go the rkvl route, because that line in the challenge, when penelope tells the suitors she will marry whoever "can string her husbands old bow and shoot through 12 axes cleanly"--smth her husband odysseus was only able to do, well, a rkvl version of that could go SO HARD.

esp cause like, idk i could just give rook a random kingdom, cause yes, leona is a prince, but technically falena would be king. and i thought of making them menelaus (leona) and agamemnon (falena) with VIL as helen, i mean, come ON!!!!!! it would be SO GOOD!! but odysseus and penelope's story was just tugging at my heart, and i couldnt decide. until i realized that actually this is a fic and it doesnt have to be a 1 to 1 substitution, i can play around and do whatever i want.

(and jack as little wolf telemachus is everything. and neige as helen, both "fairest of them alls" and cursed via apple??? i love it)

sooooo. im thinking.

vil and neige are cousins, princes of. pyroxene? or maybe pyroxene would be made up of a few kingdoms....hmmmmm...idk yet. regardless, their parents' co-rule their kingdom. but neige is the actual heir of the throne. this could be because vil is technically illegitimate. eric had no wife, he just really wanted to be a dad. and so vil's mother, for purposes of this, is either a vampire or a water nymph, or some sort of enchantress, idk, but regardless, vil isnt going to inherit. (also read @pinkbeeps sympathy for the villain fic and lost my mind over it so, yeah, crewel is a vil dad, so at some point when vil and neige are 7 and 6 respectively, crewel and eric get together.)

meanwhile, sunset savannah was split by a civil war? or a revolt of some kind. leona and falena stop it, but part of the truce that is made is that falena cannot rule all of it. so the elephant graveyard half, and some surrounding land makes up what becomes leona's kingdom. why? idk.

then, when neige is like, 17, vil 18, and leona 20, its decided that neige should get married, so all the suitors from various kingdoms come. cause, heir to the throne. and fairest of them all. falena, who is now married himself and has cheka, suggests leona go, but leona isnt rlly looking to get married. falena bugs him abt it tho, and leona still isnt for the marriage thing but rationales that princes and infleuntial people from all over will be vying for neige's hand. leona can go, but not for purposes of throwing his hat in the ring, (neige is an heir and leona has a kingdom to take care of--neither of them would leave their respective homes) but rather, to make connections to better help his people.

and then he meets vil. guy is SMITTENNNNNNN from the get go, he's like, whoever was giving out the fairest of them all titles, did they like, not see you???? heLLO??????

vil is warming up to leona, but also, lets be real, vil has an insecurity abt being a backup, second option when it comes to neige. he would have been wary considering leona is here in technicality as a suitor for neige. but it becomes apparent leona was not here for that in acuality. cause leona, in true oddysseus fashion, does not even bring a wedding gift, guy was just here to network and then fell in love.

it goes as the story always does. neige's parents are worried abt the influx of suitors and wondering how to choose without angering one kingdom over the other. and leona is like, hey i got a solution, but if you want it, you gotta put in a good word for me with vil's parents, your brother and BIL, and you gotta convince them that its okay if vil marries. and theyre like DEAL.

leona proposes his solution--the oath made by all suitors to defend neige and whoever he chooses if a rival ever takes neige away. they would march against the offender and destroy their city.

neige's parents are like damn thats brilliant and then talk to eric and crewel. who put forth a test for leona to pass. he does.

they marry, leona's wedding gift to vil, the living olive tree bed he makes himself, and they have jack and epel, idk how, surrogates? adoption? not sure. but then, the apple, neige is taken away, and that oath comes back to bite leona in the ass. he pretends he's crazy to dodge the draft but baby jack gets tossed in front of the plough and leona saves them, and is forced to go to war etc etc. they win, and then it takes him FOREVERRRR to get home, and then--well we know how it goes!

wow. sorry for just. dumping this in your ask box. i was just trying to appreciate your art and i ended up dropping the au inspired by your art in here. oops

Alright, let’s process step by step cause this ask just made me go wild when I read it. /p

[deep breath]

First, thank you very much! 💕 It’s always a delight to know that more people are into leovil because of me 8D I feel like a priest in Age of Empires (big old ref here ha ha)

Second, your Epic/ Odysseus/ Illiad AU.

I was flabbergasted cause, a few days ago I saw a new leovil fic about Epic the Musical (yes, I do have an open tab of Ao3 on my phone with the leovil tag that I refresh almost every night. When I say I have an otp, I have an otp.) and, since the name rings vaguely a bell, I asked my theater kid friend about this Musical. I just wanted to listen to it before reading the fic and then, I understood Epic the Musical.

AND

YOU CAME.

:’D

I take that as a sign.

Thank you for sharing those thoughts, that was great! I wish you the best for your AU and hope you write it and maybe post it! Otherwise, it’s fine! No pressure of course, I’m already glad with your ask! x3

Anyway, here for you. I couldn’t help sketching those. They imposed themself. Literally.

Pretty sure Vil’d start to poison the suitors too.

[variousqueerthings]

reblogging again about Big Eden made me think about some of the native american/canadian queer cinema (Indigiqueer Cinema) I've enjoyed.

Found a handy dandy Letterboxd List called Queer Native Pride and Beyond that has a whole bunch of movies I haven't seen yet, and below some of the ones I've gotten to experience (three out of four are linked):

Big Eden: a story about a gay man who returns home, because his grandfather gets sick. A sweet, beautiful man (played by Eric Schweig) starts to secretly make him food to help out. it's an amazing slice-of-life/subtly utopian bit of film-making, in that nobody in the town is homophobic, but being gay/shame is still a big part of the exploration within it.

Wildhood: a movie I got to watch at a film festival (always good to go to your local queer film festivals, many surprises to be had) and it blew me away. a roadtrip movie about two brothers who escape their abusive father to reconnect with the elder's mother and Mi'kmaq heritage. letting go of the instilled shame of being indigenous goes hand in hand with letting go of the instilled shame of being queer

Fancy Dance: this movie isn't about being queer, it's about the ongoing murder of indigenous woman and girls, and it's also a beautiful road trip film between an aunt and her niece, the former of whom is sure her sister is dead but unwilling to face it and to destroy her niece's innocence. Lily Gladstone plays the lead, who's also a lesbian, which is just a choice that works really well for the movie even if it's not the focal point (available on Apple+ TV and however you access movies, but would recommend throwing this one some views if you have access to official streaming)

Honey Moccasin: a 1998 movie i watched at another film festival (this time online), it's anarchic, it's a comedy, it's a thriller, it's got musical beats, it weaves in the intricacies of exploring Native identity and Queer identity, it's a surreal story about a few things, one of which include focus on a "closeted drag queen." it's a movie that beats against conventional film-making to create something not beholden to tropes and clichés forced upon narratives about being Native

[kumkaniudaku]

Group Project

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 5.9k

MASTERLIST

"Okay. I think…I think I'm ready." 

For seven straight days, Asia moved through life, reliving her response to Kelvin and feeling like she'd just written a check her ass couldn't cash. The real thing. What the fuck had she agreed to?

As she sat next to Sabrina with her feet submerged in tepid, bubbling water, the reality of sex unspooling from a far away abstract thought into a tangible possibility with only hours separating her from facing her wildest fantasies smacked her so hard in the face she almost choked on the flat champagne sliding around her plastic cup. 

"Are you all right over there?" Sabrina asked without looking away from the laminated list of pedicure options. 

Asia attempted to take a steadying breath between coughs. "I think I'm dying," she sputtered. Another sip of the offending beverage helped force down residual mucus until she was able to speak without her throat burning. "Honestly, that might not be such a bad idea." 

"Oh, girl. You're losing your virginity, not going off to fight on the frontlines. Tighten up!" 

"Sabrina," Asia whisper-yelled before shooting a nervous grimace meant as a smile to a few older women thumping about in the massage chairs across from them. "You wanna tell everybody my business over the PA system or tap folks individually?" 

Rolling her eyes, Sabrina passed the laminated menu of pedicures to Asia before taking a sip of red wine. "I'm just sayin', friend. I came out today to help you loosen up, but you're stressin' me out. If you're having second thoughts, I'm sure your man will let you reschedule. I heard y'all on the phone earlier. He seems nice enough."

"I don't want to reschedule. I wanna do it tonight. I'm just…I don't know. I'm nervous about the before stuff. If that goes wrong, the whole night is ruined." 

Asia had spent the better part of a week trying to negotiate with the truth, only to realize that reality drove a hard bargain. She couldn't escape the rising tide of nascent romance threatening to wash away all her preconceived notions about her place in love land. He had to know their no-strings-attached suddenly developed enough strings to power a symphony.

For years, she'd convinced herself that time had passed her by. There were no more opportunities for first dates or first kisses. Men worth their snuff in the world wouldn't waste their time with a woman so demonstrably unsexy that she made Mother Teresa look like a lingerie model. Long-term relationships were for your early 20s. And if those days were lost to being dismissed by any potential love interest within the county line, one was essentially doomed to a life of pet-fostering and spending Valentine's Day indoors to avoid spilling your patheticness on people who'd figured out the game. 

Then came Kelvin, who, by all accounts, seemed to neatly pack each of her insecurities and hang-ups into a tiny box before chucking them into the wind. Asia couldn't understand why he hadn't dropped the entire experiment to canoodle, with women undoubtedly vying for his attention. She knew falling for your first, no matter what stage of life the experience found you, was a rookie mistake. But, the wrongs felt so right with him. How could she not at least try?

Sabrina paused her perusal of neon gel nail lacquer and smiled at her friend. "That boy likes you, Asia." Her matter-of-fact delivery came with a light chuckle as she pushed Asia's shoulder for emphasis. "He's not taking you on a date and sending flowers to the house because y'all are best pals. You can spend today worryin' yourself crazy, but I'm tellin' you it's for no reason. Get out of your head. Take it from somebody who is just now realizing her man never really liked her."

"Damn. I'm guessing you and Eric are back off?"

"Girl, yes. For good. But whatever, it's fine." Sabrina scoffed, waving Asia off as if her split second of vulnerability was nothing more than an observation about the weather, and smiled. "Today's about you! We gon' get these nails done, grab you something sexy for the art hoe, and teach you how to use lube. Condoms are being used, right?"

Asia's eyes darted around the room to catch horrified reactions from anyone who might've heard her business being openly discussed. "Bitch!" She lowered her voice before responding. "Yes, we are using condoms. I went and got them myself."

"That's what the fuck I'm talking about. I got this silicone-based lube that I know you'll love. Makes it feel like nothing's separating y'all. My girl is rubbing fronts tonight! Yesss!" 

"Oh God," Asia groaned as she slouched further into her chair, wishing she could poof into a thin layer of pixie dust if it meant she could escape embarrassment. "I'm gonna die."

Throat clearing and the grating squeak of leather under shifting weight stopped Sabrina's ongoing teasing mid-sentence to bring their attention to a greying black woman with curiosity etched in her barely wrinkled face. "Now, I know y'all weren't talking to me, but I need the name of that lube. Do I need to order it off the Amazon? I just got Prime from my son for Christmas." 

"Oop. I got you, Auntie. Let me see your phone." 

While Sabrina drew in a small crowd of elders looking to get back in the saddle with some slippery assistance, Asia found solace in another scroll of her favorite text thread. 

Can't wait to see you later Missed your face this week

Kelvin's last message included an air kiss gif that Asia would consider corny if not for the sender. Pitch decks, client meetings, and last-minute PTO set them on paths winding in different directions, stealing away all chances at a face-to-face meeting before they were body-to-body. 

If not for an impromptu call before the sun could fully take its rightful place in the sky, all communication would belong to iMessages full of jokes with no context and memes they considered fully fleshed-out thoughts. 

Asia read each message repeatedly just to feel the flutter of butterflies in every corner of her belly. He liked her. He had to. The sweet messages, the peach tulips bound in a pretty brown bow, and the early morning wake-up call couldn't all be kind gestures from a friend. Right? 

An internal battle between logic and wishful thinking played out in Asia's mental colosseum. She volleyed a million possible outcomes back and forth until stilted buzzing and a quiet trill against her wrist drew her attention to an incoming FaceTime call from the man of the hour. 

She slid in an earbud and then answered, instantly smiling as she watched his chain bob back and forth with every step while he kept the camera positioned below his face. Grown-out facial hair created the right amount of scruffiness to turn the heads of young and old women alike. His baseball cap cast a shadow across his cheeks. A cerulean sky boasting specks of fluffy white clouds and bright rays of flattering light highlighted the gleam in his earrings. It fanned outward, turning him into a walking, talking work of art. 

When he finally realized the call had connected and he had the rapt attention of his lone audience member, he looked down and grinned. "What's all that about?" 

"All what?" 

"That little smile," he chuckled. "You showin' teeth and everything, girl. Must be happy to see me." 

Caught. Asia tried to return to a neutral expression but found her face ignoring mental orders to accommodate more and more cheek burning as her smile grew wider. "Whatever! This is your second time calling. You need something, or you just like to hear me talk?" 

"Both," he answered, splitting his attention between an incoming crosswalk and the screen. The usual playfulness in his tone abruptly dissipated, leaving behind a seriousness Asia hadn't experienced. He looked down at her and licked his lips before speaking again. "I just, um…I wanted you to know that I'm cool with not staying the night. That was one of your rules, so don't think you have to change it on account of me. I'll leave in the middle of the night if that means you're comfortable." 

"I want you to stay, Kel. But only if you want to." 

"I already got my bag packed with extra pajamas and my laptop just in case this turns into a whole weekend. C'mon, now. This me you talking to!" 

Asia lifted a brow, shocked by his eagerness to spend days on end in her cramped apartment. "My bad! Didn't know you'd be so excited for a sleepover with little 'ol me." 

"I'm always excited to be with you," he answered. Dual smiles radiating from opposite ends of the city held steady over the phone until Kelvin pulled open a door and ushered in a harsh mix of sounds. "I gotta go. My boy's already on my ass for being late. He about to lose his tip, to be honest."

Asia's laughter drew attention, forcing her to shoo Sabrina away before she could interrupt. "Go ahead and get your haircut. Let me see when you're – girl, go away!"  

"Tell your girl I said 'hey,'" Kelvin chuckled as he eased his way into an empty barber chair. His eyes lingered on her face for a moment longer, trying to commit her scrunched nose and knitted brows to memory in case their time together was winding down. "I gotta go. I'll see you later, pretty." 

Her farewell was lost to petty arguments with her best friend on her end and a groundswell of hooping and hollering behind an offending opinion amongst a shop full of men on his side. A huff of air pushed past his lips in a short laugh as he slid his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. 

His barber and friend, Brandon, shook his head and tapped his foot on the pedal to lift Kelvin to the right height. "That's shorty from the bar that night? China?" 

"Asia," Kelvin corrected, a miffed frown deepening the lines at the corners of his mouth. "And, yeah. That's her." 

"My fault. You be way too secretive though, bro. How did y'all meet? Do you like her? Y'all just kickin' it? Tell me something, or I'm fuckin' up the fade."

Black nylon cascading in front of his face gave Kelvin a split second to decide how much information he could share with his notoriously talkative right-hand man without opening the door to prying questions and needless revelations. 

He scratched at the itching hair on his jawline, trying to appear nonchalant. "We met at work. She was new, I showed her around, and now we cool. Simple." An instant smile betrayed his forced tough-guy act. 

"Nah, you cheesin'! Tell the real story!"

The poker face he'd tried to maintain continued to slip into a full display of all thirty-plus teeth. 

"Alright, alright," Kelvin conceded. For months, he kept the truth relegated to his personal journal and mental interviews with Jimmy Kimmel while he practiced for superstardom in the shower. At least one other person should hear how he willingly tangled himself in Asia Scott's web. "I actually saw her when she interviewed. Bad, bro. I'm talkin' make you stop in your tracks just to watch her walk by type fine. Had me stuck at the coffee bar looking stupid." 

Brandon hummed as he pushed Kelvin's head down to start his cut. "Mhmm. That's how it starts, for real. She said something to you first, or what?" 

"Nah, I approached her. Not even trying to cross that line, really. I was supposed to just say what's up and keep it professional, but I couldn't stop talking after that. Next thing I know, we eating lunch, and I'm askin' this girl about her goals and shit." Kelvin laughed to himself while internally watching the memory unfold like a rom-com for his heart and mind only.  "She ain't ask nothin' about me, and I ain't even care. I just wanted to be around her."

"Sound like you got it bad, my boy."

Kelvin released an air he didn't know he was holding through his nose. "Yeah, man. I like her. A lot, actually. I'm thinkin' about saying something when we go out tonight, but…I don't know. It might not be the right time considering what I got goin' on."

"They must be talkin' 'bout some money in Chicago." 

"And then some," Kelvin added. "Crazy perks, revenue share, development plans. My whole life might change."

A loose connection from portfolio school and an expensive cold brew on a rainy weekday afternoon turned Kelvin's professional world upside down in less than two weeks. Initially, he wasn't interested in a move, even if the current work was no longer challenging and forward motion had stalled. His job was easy, flexible, and enough to pay the bills with a little extra on the side. But, a half-hour chemistry meeting with two creative leads over Zoom ran fifteen minutes too long from vibes alone. Then, solid chemistry turned into a first-round interview with a few department heads ogling over his professional and personal work for almost an hour before promising to keep in touch. Radio silence on their end for over a week convinced Kelvin that the circus was over, and he was free to go back to his life of easy money for even easier work. Hell, he didn't want to live in cold-ass Chicago anyway. 

Then the phone rang. And the inbox blew up. Flights got booked. Hotel arrangements were made. Hasty, last-minute PTO requests were granted in good faith. Tired eyes shielded by blue light lenses watched clouds part over a glittering city from thousands of feet in the air. A non-traditional second-round interview over piping hot pizza turned him into the center of attention. Corporate banter while he sipped freezing cold beer in lower-level seats at a Bulls game ended with a handshake and Kelvin sensing that he'd have a decision on his hands in the coming weeks. 

Asia. She popped into his mind more than a few times while too-cool advertising types wined and dined him in hopes his talent would fill out their roster. All of the progress, all of the accidentally tender moments and slip-ups he knew in his heart were more than happy accidents flooded him with ceaseless anxiety. Sure, he could see them planning weekend trips back and forth to keep the flame alive in a budding relationship. Long-distance courtship wasn't ideal, but he'd manage for her. However, his feelings about the matter were inconsequential. One false move, and he'd be out of a friend and potential lover. The thought alone threatened to upend a night he'd carefully planned since they agreed to their unconventional arrangement. 

The soft buzz of clippers near his right ear rescued Kelvin from spiraling as chunks of dead hair fell around him. 

"Aye, man, I ain't no love expert or nothing, but," Brandon started, his attention far off while he focused on his money-making blend. "You like her. I could tell when you brought her over to us that night, but I ain't wanna blow up your spot. Might as well say something. Why you wanna go to Chicago with regrets? You already 'bout to be up there with a slaw ass haircut because I ain't givin' up no contacts. Lose my number after this, nigga." 

Kelvin kissed his teeth and waved Brandon off. "I deleted your contact this morning if we being honest. Been tired of your ass." 

Shared laughter between two men who'd seen each other, from the naivety of boyhood to the hurdles and joys on the journey to becoming a man, added levity to a bitter inner storm. Kelvin tried to savor the moment and advice without dwelling on impending decisions but found the task harrowing once he popped the bubble they'd created to re-enter the real world. 

Regrets. Kelvin had a lot of them. Skipping out on senior prom, not answering his sister's FaceTime call for free Kendrick Lamar tickets, choosing that sketchy roommate to make ends meet in his first year out of school – the list went on and on. Asia couldn't be one of them. Not knowing if there could've been more would gnaw at him til kingdom come, and he didn't have room to harbor more what-ifs.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Asia, half listening to instructions with sweaty palms and a heart nearly cracking ribs in his chest, Kelvin resolved to use his last bits of nerve to step out on a limb. 

Sax heavy jazz selections wrapped a rented test kitchen and the couples within its walls in a sensual embrace under dim yellow light. Kelvin had TikTok and a favor to thank for snagging the final spot in Shawn and Terricka's coveted Couples Night In cooking course. In one night, he and Asia would take a culinary trip to Italy, complete with expert wine pairings and handmade pasta to bring them together as two parts of a whole. Kelvin couldn't say he was much of a fettuccine, linguini, bow tie, rigatoni guy. Still, he'd never forget how Asia's face lit up when she showed him videos of young women making noodles from scratch. He went to the ends of the Earth and his wallet to orchestrate an experience she wouldn't forget on a night when every detail down to the minute required perfection.

"Are you listening?" Asia asked with a teasing smile as she adjusted the complementary apron, shielding her from what was sure to be a mess if she had anything to do with it. 

He puffed his chest and straightened before clapping his hands and looking around their station at the ingredients in front of them. "Y-yeah. I heard everything she said. Eggs, flour, this thing…" He paused to satisfy his curiosity with a single crank of the pasta roller's handle before continuing. "It's, uh…all here." 

Asia watched him search the depths of his mind for any crumb of retained information, enjoying the way his lips shifted back and forth in pensive silence. 

Overhead light bathed Kelvin in a flattering glow, making the small stud in his ear and the watch on his wrist shine each time he moved his head. A soft black cashmere cardigan cradled strong arms, while his signature crisp white T-shirt displayed his broadening chest. His fresh haircut and trimmed facial hair sent tingles to all the right places, reminding Asia of the first time she noticed he was fine. 

"You're cute when you pretend you know what you're doing." 

Kelvin gave her a half smile without tearing his eyes away from the short list of step-by-step instructions in his hand. "Oh yeah? Only then?" 

"Well, all the time. But especially when you're thinking. Like how you're trying to remember Terricka's instructions when she hasn't even given us any yet. She was introducing the class and telling us we'd be sharing a little about ourselves in a bit.”

A sheepish grin preceded a gentle bump against Asia's forearm before Kelvin's shoulders bounced in quiet laughter. "Why you doin' me like that? If you didn't look so damn good in this dress, we'd have a problem." 

"Oh, so it's the dress?" Asia quipped as Kelvin leaned back for a better look. 

He nodded and reached out to pull her closer by the waist. His lips quickly found a home on her ear to keep their conversation private in a room full of chattering adults. "It's more than the dress. You're gorgeous, baby." 

Sweet compliments mumbled against soft, brown skin drowned out couple after couple sharing their names, length of relationship, and fun facts until a loud hand clap snapped Asia and Kelvin's attention to the center of the room. 

"And you two," Shawn questioned with all eyes directed toward the youngest two in attendance. "Tell us about your love." 

Kelvin gripped Asia tighter and cleared his throat. "Uh, I'm Kelvin, and this is Asia."

"Hey, y'all," Asia chimed with a quick wave. 

"And we're…" Kelvin looked at Asia, smiling at her while she smiled back at him, to find an explanation for what they'd been doing for a month. "We're enjoying our time together." His gaze remained steadfast on Asia's bashful grin. "Maybe we'll finish tonight on a different note, though." 

Red wine, teamwork, and a stack of questions printed on thick white note cards would ensure that the pair at least ended their first date with a greater understanding of each other. Asia learned Kelvin was an artist in every sense of the word. He preferred freestyling the tedious pasta recipe when directions called for specificity in every regard. Asia kept them on task, but not without redirecting her excitable companion along the way. 

Kelvin quickly discovered that all of Asia's know-how completely disappeared when faced with kitchen matters. She didn't know a ¼ cup from a half and didn't have any intentions of learning. Her forte was delegating tasks, not sullying her painted fingernails and oiled cuticles with egg yolks and wet dough. 

Separately, they were a clusterfuck of missing parts trying to navigate an arduous task. Together, though, they crafted the best mafaldine their instructors for the night had ever seen from amateurs. 

Tucked in a corner at the far end of the space's makeshift eating area, Kelvin and Asia plucked cards one after the other in a back-and-forth Q&A over flavorful mafaldine pasta bolognese. 

"Mm, this is a good one," Asia said after a sip of cabernet. "What is your favorite thing about your partner? What's one thing you would change?" 

Kelvin twirled pasta around his fork and thought for a moment. "You don't take a lot of shit. I like that you're very direct and in charge of what you want." 

"And something you would change?" 

"That's easy," he answered through a chew. "You're too hard on yourself. I wish you could see yourself how everyone else sees you. I know you think we're all just being nice, but you really are incredible. I love watching you blossom." Kelvin watched Asia digest his words over her glass, the wheels churning in her active mind. He reached across the table to grab another card. "What's one thing you want me to know about our relationship?" 

That I'm falling for you, and I don't want this to end. One hundred answers flooded in at once, but Asia settled on one. "I want you to know how appreciative I am for…all this. You've been kind when you could've called me a loser and left me in that bar to be with your friends." 

"I wouldn't have done that, Asia. Not to you." 

"I know," Asia assured as she dragged the last vowel. "But, you could've. So, thank you for being so kind and patient. By tomorrow, that'll all be done, and we'll go back to our lives, so I didn't wanna miss the chance to let you know how I feel." 

Confusion made Kelvin tilt his head to one side, studying her face under the haze of full-bodied wine and growing affection. "Go back to my life? Where's that coming from?"

"I just mean, it seems like we're coming to the natural end of this thing we're doing. We'll still be friends, but you'll be free to fly. Maybe sweep somebody off their feet. You're good at that," Asia clarified, her smile lingering as the familiar bloom of feelings coursing through her veins made her stomach flutter.

Kelvin placed his fork against his plate before pulling the napkin from his lap and depositing it on the table. No regrets. Now or never. A short laugh brought with it a charming grin aimed at his favorite girl. 

"Asia, I guess haven't been super clear with you from the start,"  He started while motioning for her hand in the center of the table. Asia answered his wordless call and placed her fingers in the center of his warm palm. He leaned closer, hoping she could detect his eyes' sincerity when he finally breathed out, "I like you, Asia. Shit, even 'like' is too small," He laughed. "I…I adore you. I crave you. I look forward to seeing you. I think about you constantly. I feel connected to you. I want to be with you. Does any of that make sense?" 

Asia sat stone still and unblinking for a moment, mulling over words she had only dreamt of hearing from another. An explicit declaration of intent – feeling foreign in her ears but familiar to a heart that longed for reciprocation. 

Her thumb caressed the back of Kelvin's hand as a smile spread her cheeks to their limit and deepened dimples she almost forgot existed. "Guess I'm a better kisser than I thought, huh?"

"Actually, I don't know. Let me check real quick." Metal dragging across stained concrete brought Kelvin's chair closer to Asia until their knees touched, transferring heat between their bodies. His fingers grazed her jawline, never averting his attention from her equally unwavering gaze. "Come here." 

Asia's favorite command, delivered in a sultry mumble, made hair all over her body stand straight up as they moved to meet each other in the middle. 

One tentative peck introduced a slow progression of deep, passionate kisses, translating latent feelings into a language only bodies could speak. A barely audible moan slipped out of Asia's mouth when Kelvin nipped at her lip, reminding them an audience wasn't far away. They pulled away slowly with equally glazed-over eyes and goofy grins.

Kelvin smiled and swiped at Asia's bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Way better." He listened to her sweet giggle, grinning back until the sound reminded him of the question left unanswered. "Look, four weeks didn't spark how I feel about you. They helped, don't get me wrong, but I knew I wanted you as more than a friend the second you strolled into that office. If we're not on the same page, I understand. But if there's any chance we are, any chance –" 

"We're on the same page, same sentence, same word. But we can talk about what all that means tomorrow, okay?" Carnal desire propelled Asia forward for another slow kiss and feather-soft caress that threatened to bring Kelvin to his knees. She inched away to keep her lips on his as she spoke. "Right now, take me home. I don't wanna wait anymore."

------

Hopefully, Alister liked SZA. 

As barely intelligible love songs oozed from her Bluetooth speaker, Asia attempted to stifle sounds of pleasure with her forearm pressed against her mouth and one leg draped lazily over her lover's shoulder. Languid, thorough oral affection kept her lower back levitated off the mattress. Soft moaning melding with subtle slurping and smacking treated her ears to a beautiful symphony catered to her. 

Kelvin's fingers pressed into Asia's flesh to keep her steady while he lapped at the beginning of what he hoped was only her first orgasm for the night. Nervousness had him self-conscious. Skills he'd practiced and mastered long before she stepped into his life felt foreign. Was he doing it right? Did she like it? Was she happy? He suppressed the urge to question her satisfaction, instead leaning on every wanton sigh and muffled moan as proof he was on the right path. 

"Oh my God," Asia whispered to the ceiling. "Don't stop!" 

Immeasurable euphoria washed over her naked body as her hips bucked to accommodate electric shocks from head to toe. Hey, eyes crossed behind closed lids. Her toes curled while all ten fingers gripped the sheets. 

"One down," Kelvin thought to himself as he smiled against thighs pressed tight to his face. 

If not for her hand prying his face away after she'd exhausted herself from cumming, he'd start from scratch and bring her to the mountaintop until his jaws locked. But, he relented under her breathless pleas for a break. 

Slowly, Kelvin kissed his way up Asia's belly, making pit stops at both breasts and his favorite spot beneath her right ear before connecting their lips. They groaned at her taste intermingling with remnants of alcohol while their tongues reacquainted in a waltz too perfect to be a sin. He could feel his rational thoughts running south to stiffen his neglected member against briefs, growing more and more uncomfortable as the minutes passed.

Kelvin shifted his attention back to Asia's neck so he could speak against the spot. "You feel ready or need more?" His tongue sliding across the pulsing stretch of hot skin made Asia shiver under his body weight. He smiled and pulled back to get a better look at Asia's face. "You feel ready. Talk to me, pretty." 

"Okay," she answered as her arms encircled his neck. "Promise you'll go slow?" 

He nodded before dipping his head to peck her lips. "As slow as you need. I'll take care of you."

Years of waiting for someone to cherish her enough to take the plunge had culminated in undergarments discarded across the room and a single sleeve of thin latex covered in expensive lube separating her from the only man to see her in her most vulnerable form. 

This was it. This was the moment. She'd dreamed about it plenty of times, imagining the most minute details, from the weather to how she'd sound at the height of her climax. Mirages filled with rose petals on the floor and a soft breeze coming through the window made up a scenario better suited for a romance novel than the reality of finally releasing pent-up sexual tension.

Asia expected pain for the first time. She'd heard the horror stories and done enough research to know what was waiting on the other side of first-time penetration. Breathing recommendations and practiced facial expressions to mask her true feelings came flooding back to the front of her mind as Kelvin ran his palms up and down her hips to soothe her while he positioned himself at her entrance. She held her breath. Waiting, anticipating limb-splitting fire to consume her body.

But, as Kelvin slowly sank into her and twin groans of pure, unadulterated ecstasy eclipsed the opening notes of Love Galore, all of her assumptions became background fodder. 

Asia gripped Kelvin's tensed bicep while he stilled deep in her heat, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. "You okay," He questioned through shallow pants.

"Mhmm," she hummed before reaching to bring his face closer. "You feel so good already." Kelvin closed his eyes to will away premature release while she pulsed around him. Asia stroked his cheek and arched into his chest to beg him to move inside her. "Please. I trust you, Kel. It's okay." 

As promised, Kelvin started slow, rolling his hips into her for shallow strokes that made Asia's voice hoarse and her head spin. He reveled in the feel of ridged walls greeting his arrival as they tugged and released him according to pace. He lowered himself into the crook of her neck and felt instant relief when she cradled him close. The bed creaked in time to every measured back and forth, adding another layer to the duet their individual moaning created. 

Hot, slick skin on crumpled cold sheets wouldn't allow Asia to drift too far into La La Land. She feasted on Kelvin digging deeper and gripping her tighter while her body did the work to accommodate inch after glorious inch. 

Kelvin tried to remain quiet, tempering each grunt and unidentifiable sound as his hips loosened to find a rhythm perfect enough to elicit high-pitched mewls from the apple of his eye while she dug her fingernails into his back. 

"Look at you," Kelvin cooed as he pushed back up onto his forearms to get the full experience of Asia's face twisting in pleasure. "You're so fucking pretty. Open your eyes." 

"Kel…" 

He moved to bring one leg up to his waist for a new angle. "I'm right here, baby. Open those pretty eyes for me. Your first time only happens once. Don't look away." He waited patiently for Asia to force her sagging lids open enough to reveal the punchdrunk haze of a methodical fucking. He smiled down at her. "There she is. How you feelin'?" 

"So…oh my God…so good." 

"That's what I like to hear. I feel you getting close. You feel that?" 

A long, choppy moan came out before Asia's slurred response. "Mhmm. I think I'm…. mmm, I think I'm… I'm close." 

"Yeah, you are. Relax for me. Breathe deep." Asia tried to keep track of instructions but lost the plot and her sense of hearing the moment Kelvin slipped his hand between them to rub her clit with his thumb. 

The barely familiar coil of release tightened in her lower abdomen as Kelvin rocked into her while whispering sweet everything onto the corner of her mouth. Asia wrapped her arms around his shoulders for stability, anticipating the first wave of heat trying to prepare her body for something more intense. 

Her breathing grew rigid. The world slipped away pixel by pixel. Thoughts turned into mush. Kelvin's instructions returned as fleeting anecdotes. Asia tried to breathe through it but found the task playing second fiddle to the natural tense and release of her thighs around his waist. 

In through your nose, Asia. The reminder pinged around the empty corners of her mind until they found a way to burrow into the only functioning part of her brain. 

Kelvin watched her cycle through a range of all too familiar feelings from overhead, pride, and a competitive spirit he thought he left in high school, convincing him to go above and beyond. He drove his hips a little harder to hear the headboard thumb against paper-thin drywall. Added pressure on her sensitive button was the magic key to turning a small pond into one of the great lakes. 

Asia's jaw dropped to force out a throaty, "Fuck, baby…yes!" before he eased up to allow her to experience all the joy of post-coital bliss without the overstimulation. He'd save that for another time if the universe allowed. 

Sabrina was so wrong about what to expect. All Asia's hang-ups about ending the night unsatisfied or unimpressed were washed away as sensation returned to her fingers and toes. 

"Kiss me." It's all she wanted – Kelvin's lips on hers until her oxygen became his. 

They lay there, hot, sweaty, and still connected at the waist while Kelvin pressed tender kisses on Asia's lips. He nuzzled his nose against hers. "You called me 'baby.'" 

"I know," she answered as she brought her hand up to rub a spot at the base of his neck. "I meant to. Don't make me regret it." 

Guilt smacked into Kelvin like an 18-wheeler, but he maintained his composure to maintain the hopeful smile on Asia's face. "I won't." 

"Good. Don't hold back on me this time. I want all of you." 

"This time" turned into another, a short break and a few more for good measure while SZA sang them into the wee hours of the morning. Kelvin poured himself into making every minute worth Asia's while as a reward for trusting him with her body. 

Chicago and its host of budding issues belonged to another day. He wasn't leaving the room, her apartment, or the city with any regrets. Not while he still had so many more lessons to teach.

-------

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[omgshiftercat]

I have a friend whose ex, a minor celebrity in some circles, was abusive.

Shortly after she and some other women went public about it, there were some people who chimed in talking about other misdeeds of his.

Her ex was, and is, a loathsome waste of oxygen, and the words, "...who deserves every accusation leveled at him" would almost escape my lips...

...Except that some of the accusations people began throwing around because they (understandably) hated this guy weren't true.

This did not help my friend at all! It muddied the waters, and gave her awful ex ammunition for his claims that people were just out to get him, and were willing to make stuff up to smear him.

Switching gears: there's been a lot of discussion recently about how some brilliant and influential art has been created by objectively terrible people. Part of that discussion has been calling out people who say, "Their work always sucked," or "I never liked it." Not only are statements like this unhelpful, they provide cover for predators. If you insist that your tastes reflect your morality, you're giving yourself a huge blind spot, and making it easy to dismiss evidence of harm done by creators you happen to like.

This is one reason why I think exhibits like this one are important: they help teach that lesson.

Three notes on this: 1. by the time of that exhibition, Gill was long dead and therefore unable to profit from it.

2. This kind of thing isn't necessary for every artist, because not every creator does heinous things.

3. My friend's ex is nowhere near the artistic league of Eric Gill or any of the other creators I'll discuss.

Switching gears again...

If someone mentions a bespectacled British boy wizard with an owl familiar, in a modern setting with "secret world" magic, the name that springs to mind is most likely "Harry Potter", right?

But Timothy Hunter, from The Books of Magic, was published a full seven years before that. I was working in a bookstore when the novelizations for the BoM comics came out, and had to tell kids that no, this was not a HP rip-off.

I don't think the reverse was true, either: for one thing, The Books of Magic is set in the DC Universe, and I've never heard of JKR reading superhero comics. But also... sometimes completely separate creators will come up with strikingly similar ideas, utterly by coincidence. It's one reason why most authors tell fans NOT to send them ideas or fanfiction based on their work: there is rarely any good way to prove that you didn't steal a concept.

Now, obviously every creator is influenced by other people's works, and I completely agree that it's good to acknowledge that and to point fans towards your influences!

When Rowling began channeling her resources into making life worse for trans folk, I saw a lot of people saying, "Well, Harry Potter was just a mediocre rip-off of The Worst Witch anyway."

While I haven't read that series, I strongly doubt this claim. The idea of magic schools is older and more widespread than either of those series, and "British boarding school hijinks, but it's a magic school" was bound to be written more than once.

Now, some of you already know, and others have looked up, who originally wrote Tim Hunter. And... yeah, it's Neil Gaiman. *sigh*

In the last few days, I've seen some people saying, "The Sandman ripped off Tanith Lee's Tales from the Flat Earth." They cite a number of similarities: Azhrarn, the Lord of Darkness, is a pale-skinned, raven-haired Byronic figure with a sibling-like relationship to the Lord of Death and the Lord of Madness. Like the Endless, these beings are god-like, but specifically not gods. Apparently some people have mistaken fanart of Azhrarn for Morpheus. And Chuz, Prince Madness, has a bisected appearance, half his face horribly messed up, like the demoness Mazikeen.

But speaking as someone who was a fan of the late Tanith Lee years before I picked up an issue of The Sandman: I don't believe the latter was stolen from the former. Are there similarities? Yes, but they're superficial. If you've read both series, as I have, you'll know that the stories, settings, and characters are very different!

It's possible Gaiman was influenced by Lee's writing, and if so, I agree he should have acknowledged that. He did promote the work of other female creators, which is one reason why many of us thought he was "one of the good ones". But it's also entirely possible that these two authors independently came up with similar ideas.

When it comes right down to it, I think that statements like this -- "their best work was just a rip-off of something else" -- are just another variant of "their work always sucked".

It's often an easier accusation than "they've always been crap", because, as I said, writers come up with strikingly similar concepts all the time, and it's very hard to prove you didn't steal an idea. But it has the same problems, so -- barring the kind of case you could make with a college-level plagiarism-catching program -- I think it's best avoided.

Now, telling people, "Hey, are you sad about this creator turning out to be an awful person to whom you don't want to give any more money? Try this other person's work instead!" This is good! Let's have more of it!

Addendum 1: I think "separate the art from the artist" should mean, "you don't have to treat books already on your shelf as if they're suddenly coated in poison", not "I'm going to ignore this creator's actions and keep buying their products anyway."

Addendum 2: I just posted a version of this to Bluesky.

[kitscutie]

hush (eric, a quiet place x fem!reader)

pairing: eric!aqp x reader

warnings: injuries, blood, just general pain but comfort too!!

summary: after you obtain an injury which requires stitches, you do your best to keep absolutely silent.

a/n: requests for eric open :)

word count: 744

You and Eric emerged from a hole in the ground beneath the church, the water you had just escaped seemed stained red as you turned, pulling yourself up and onto the marble flooring.

You knew you were hurt, would be stupid not too seeing as there was a burning coming from your shin though it was diluted through shock.

You were pulled from your focus on the pain as Erics arms wrapped under your armpits, lifting you until your legs were completely out of the ground.

You turned to face him as he lifted a hand to his lips, reminding you to be quiet. As if you'd forgotten.

He lay you down gently against a pile of rubble, quickly searching through the group of others in the church for help, 'doctor?' scribbled onto the back of his hand in the ink of a pen he found at the churches alter.

Finally after minutes of staring at the ceiling, eyes drifting in and out of consciousness he returned. Stood behind him wearily was an older woman, maybe sixty five-ish? In her past life she was a nurse, before the monsters came crashing onto New York City.

She seemingly collected a dust covered first-aid kit, hung on the wall near the entrance. You prayed there was actually enough in there to save your leg, though you doubted there would be blood- of which you were losing by the litre.

'The quicker it's closed, the better." He wrote onto a note pad, handwriting scribbled in his hurry.

"Closed?" You mouthed, under the impression you would simply need bandages. Lifting your head up you watched as the woman threaded string through a needle. You knew what that meant.

You began frantically shaking your head at Eric, 'No, no, no.' being mouthed repeatedly as your pupils dilated in panic.

"I'm sorry." He mouthed back moving you to lie between his legs, head in his lap. Your efforts to escape proved helpless as your pain emerged through any shock left over though you were confident stitches would hurt more.

He wrapped his own arms around yours, effectively tying them down. Your breathing turned rapid and shallow, panic setting in as you accepted all the pain you were about to feel.

The first time the needle went in you felt nothing. And then whit, hot burning pain. Your back shot up off the ground, a silent scream leaving your mouth as tears spilled from your eyes uncontrollably.

Eric did all he could, shushing you silently, eyes dark and filled with guilt. Though it didn't ease the pain- nothing could. No amount of sweet nothing and comfort that you couldn't actually hear would help.

He watched in his own emotional pain as your fists turned white, breathing only getting quicker, and quicker as each stitch pierced your skin.

He could no longer bear it, leaning down so his forehead touched yours in an attempt to give you solace. Your cries grew heavier, soft sobs leaving you. Panicked that soon enough they would become loud he put his mouth so close to your ear you could feel every hair on his chin as he spoke.

"You're okay, it's okay." He repeated like a prayer. Were you okay? It wasn't truly clear. Hearing it from him though, Eric with his soft British twang brought you back to reality, even if it did come in the form of a shaky whisper.

This time when he shushed you with gentle care it was audible and soothing. Your breathing slowed but the tears and pain never ended, you could only hope the stitches were almost complete.

He kept his forehead against your own but brought a hand away from your arm, instead reaching up to wipe your burning tears away, thumb moving back and forth smudging ash into your skin.

As he moved away, your eyes stayed locked with his, attempting to disassociate from this moment and focus instead on him. His curly hair, brown eyes, dirty collar which looked pristine and ironed fifteen hours ago. It all brought you pain to think of now- the simple things like clean clothes which didn't smell like smoke but nothing hurt more than the look on his face as he starred at you, as though you were broken.

You never liked that term, never like being viewed as weak or vulnerable though in this moment you had never been so grateful to have someone like him by your side, protecting you and you him.

[jyeoulzhu]

calling after me

summary . two idiots in love who couldn't admit their feelings. everything was fine… until it wasn't. now, everyone's suffering from the awkward tension, and things only get worse when a certain someone starts making moves on y/n.

pairing . huh yunjin x male reader

warnings . swearings.. yeah thats all AND Y/N BEING A DUMB AHH

it all started with a stupid touch.

maybe it was the way yunjin would randomly ruffle y/n's hair, or how y/n would pull her in by the waist whenever they'd cross the street. their friends would always clown them for acting like a couple, but neither of them ever denied it. why would they? they were comfortable.

until it wasn’t so comfortable anymore.

one night, y/n was walking yunjin back to her dorm. it was their usual thing. they’d talk about dumb shit, laugh at inside jokes, and yunjin would randomly lean her head on y/n's shoulder, because “you're comfy, duh.”

but this time, when she did that, y/n's heart did some stupid flip. and the moment he realized it, he went stiff as hell.

"what's wrong?" yunjin asked, frowning.

"nothing," y/n lied.

except, it wasn’t nothing.

from that day on, the dynamic shifted. the hand-holding? gone. the playful head pats? disappeared. the lingering stares? well... those only got worse.

and everyone fucking noticed.

"dude, what the hell happened between you and yunjin?" keeho asked, while y/n was sulking over his lunch tray.

"nothing," y/n muttered.

"bro, you guys used to act like you were married. now you look like divorced parents who only talk for the sake of the kids," eric added, dead serious.

meanwhile, on the other side of the cafeteria, yunjin was going through her own mental breakdown.

"he’s literally avoiding me," yunjin groaned, stabbing her salad.

"he’s avoiding you because he’s in love with you, dumbass," chaewon deadpanned.

"no he’s not," yunjin argued.

"girl... the whole school thinks you're soulmates."

chaewon wasn’t even exaggerating. everyone around them was getting secondhand frustration from the whole situation.

"so what? i'm just supposed to waltz up to him and confess?" yunjin huffed.

"yes, actually," kazuha chimed in.

"do i look like i'm in a wattpad fic?"

"honestly... yeah."

weeks passed and the tension was eating everyone alive.

one random afternoon, y/n and yunjin found themselves stuck in the same group project. great.

"pass me the marker," yunjin said, eyes avoiding him.

"get it yourself," y/n replied coldly.

chaewon, kazuha, keeho, and eric exchanged glances.

"bro, we're living in the aftermath of a situationship breakup that never even happened," keeho whispered.

and then... karina happened.

she wasn’t supposed to be in the picture. but she was.

perfect. pretty. and very much into y/n.

she started popping up more often, subtly sliding into conversations, laughing at y/n's jokes, and casually touching his arm.

it was driving yunjin insane.

"who the fuck does she think she is?" yunjin muttered as she aggressively scrolled through karina's instagram.

"someone who’s about to steal your man if you don’t do something," chaewon replied, not even looking up from her phone.

"he’s not my man."

"that’s the problem, dumbass."

then came the party.

karina was on demon time.

"y/n, can you help me with my drink? i can't reach," she pouted, despite the fact that the counter was literally right in front of her.

y/n awkwardly handed her the cup.

"you're so sweet. no wonder girls are all over you," karina giggled, lightly tracing her fingers along y/n's arm.

meanwhile, across the room, yunjin was gripping her cup so hard it was about to crack.

"bro, she's basically throwing herself at him," chaewon whispered.

"i'm gonna lose my fucking mind," yunjin hissed.

"y/n, do you wanna dance?" karina asked, batting her lashes.

"uh... i’m good," y/n replied, scanning the room for an escape.

"c'mon~ just one song," karina insisted, pulling him by the hand.

"yo, what the fuck am i watching right now?" keeho whispered to eric.

"this is character development for yunjin. she's about to snap," eric whispered back.

meanwhile, yunjin chugged her drink, slammed the cup down, and stormed toward y/n and karina.

"y/n," yunjin called out, her eyes burning holes through karina's skull.

"y-yeah?"

"we need to talk. now."

karina blinked. "wait, what?"

"girl, back off," yunjin deadpanned, dragging y/n away.

"what the hell was that?" y/n asked as yunjin dragged him to the empty balcony.

"i should be asking you that! what are you doing letting her all over you like that?" yunjin snapped.

"what do you care?" y/n shot back.

"because i... i care about you, dumbass!"

silence.

"wait, what?" y/n blinked.

"you heard me," yunjin mumbled, looking away.

"yunjin, i—"

"just... say something, idiot."

without thinking, y/n stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "can i kiss you?"

yunjin’s breath hitched. "about fucking time."

and just like that, the tension that had been suffocating them for weeks melted away as y/n crashed his lips onto hers.

[ilguna]

Hey! I love your work so much. Can you do 4 with four (tobias) from divergent ?

☼ succeed (tobias eaton) ☼

warnings; swearing, fighting, blood mention.

wc; 2.4k

prompt; 4. "Why do you sacrifice so much for me?"

notes; tweaked canon, obviously. not really noticeable unless you’re a huge fan.

--

Dauntless initiation is—unsurprisingly—far from what you thought it would be. To be fair, you’re not entirely sure what exactly you were expecting in the first place. All you know was that you were going to be in for a ride when they made you jump on and off of a moving train directly after transferring. 

This gave you a clue of what was to come, of course, but you took it in a different direction. If they wanted to see how daring you could be by risking your lives, then maybe that meant you’d be doing dangerous tasks throughout the rest of the month. 

On the first day, you assumed that you’d be learning how to throw away your inhibitions and solely rely on your instincts. An idea that isn’t incredibly outlandish when it comes to Dauntless. After all, they’re the ones in charge of security and wall perimeter—the jobs that can end up being deadly.

This is why you didn’t have a significant reaction when you were informed by Four that they’d be introducing you to self-defense. They proceeded to hang you a gun, gave you a target, and told you to shoot until your bullets were gone. And after lunch, they brought you to a large room where you were taught how to properly fight an opponent.

This is when reality had begun to set in. They were not teaching you this in case the situation ever arose, but because they wanted you to use it in the coming week. You’re going to be forced to defend yourself, whether you like it or not. They were just being courteous enough to teach you how to, first.

You didn’t figure this out until yesterday when you saw the chalkboard. While it had previously been devoid of writing, it suddenly held a list of names side by side, pairing initiates up together. For the first few minutes, you were under the impression that it was for sparring.

When they sent Al and Will into the center circle together, instructed to fight one another, you looked at Four. You found his eyes already on you, arms crossed over his chest, face hard. In that moment, you remembered all of his warnings for you to pay close attention to the way he’d been throwing his kicks and punches.

It’s not like you were ignoring him, but you did continuously brush him off because he was being overbearing. He must’ve taken this as you just being a know-it-all Erudite, leaving you to figure it out on your own. You’d have to learn one way or another that your logic wouldn’t help.

When really, you hadn’t heard him when he said that you’d be fighting your fellow initiates. 

You were a deer in headlights when the rules were explained. In these fights, you are to keep going until one of you is unable to continue. And while you could concede, it won’t be done without going unpunished. In the old rules, a brave man can acknowledge the strength of others. In the new rules, made by the newest Dauntless leader, a brave man never surrenders.

You think Four may have recognized that a mistake was made. He was quick to come up with an escape, albeit at the cost of your pride. He called you out in the middle of Eric’s explanation, telling you not to be sick on the floor unless you wanted to clean it. All you had to say was that breakfast wasn’t settling well, and you were excused to go sit down with a trash can.

With there being ten initiates in your group, there should’ve been five fights. You sat out, making it four, but none of you made it past the second one. Will and Al fought just fine, Al even won. The next fight to happen was Christina and Molly, which was following the same pattern as the first fight, until Christina decided that she wanted to concede.

That’s when you were informed that a punishment would go along with it. Eric was pissed, dragging Christina all the way to the chasm in the Pit that hangs above the river, barking at the rest of you to follow. He then made her climb to the other side of the railing and forced her to hold on to the bridge by her hands until he was satisfied.

When she didn’t fall to her death, you were dismissed for the rest of the day. This destroyed your plan of analyzing the fighting techniques of the others to figure out what you’re supposed to do. To make up for it, you thought you could come practice in the middle of the night, but the doors were locked.

So, to put it lightly, you’re screwed. The only way to learn now is from the fights that will be taking place, and even then you’ll still be at a disadvantage no matter how you approach it.

As soon as you step foot into the training room, your eyes find the chalkboard, curious to who you’ve been paired up with today. Yesterday, it was supposed to be Tris, the Abnegation transfer. She would’ve been a good first fight to figure out how you want to be in the ring, but that opportunity has passed.

Today, you are given more of a challenging opponent—Peter.

“Oh no,” A voice says, you glance over your shoulder to see that Christina is limping her way over to Tris. Her face is fairly bruised from the beating she received from Molly yesterday. “At least you aren’t paired with Peter.”

Both of them look in your direction, and you accidentally lock eyes with Christina for a moment. You press your lips together in disgust and turn away, no longer interested in their conversation. You are not a member of Erudite anymore, but that doesn’t mean they’ll stop seeing you that way. Not until you prove to them that you’re not snot-nosed. 

You turn your attention to Peter, who’s got a good few inches on you. Which wouldn’t be an issue, much less have you worried, if he didn’t have the muscle he does. This fight could easily go two ways, but you have a feeling it’s leaning in his favor more than yours. 

“Maybe she can just take a few hits and pretend to go unconscious.” Al suggests loud enough for you to hear. “No one would blame her.”

You grit your teeth at the idea of taking the cowards way out, something that you won’t be doing, no matter how tempting it is. Even if it does work out in your favor, there’s no telling what Eric will do to you when he figures out that you’d faked it. While he made Christina hang from the chasm by her hands, he’d tell you to do something much worse. Or kick you out of initiation altogether for not having the Dauntless heart.

Which isn’t true. You belong here.

Fortunately, you and Peter are not the first fight of the day, it’s Edward and Molly. You might as well be, though. The pair of you are listed directly underneath them. You think that you’d even prefer being the first to go. If you could get it out of the way, you would.

As you mindlessly watch Edward and Molly, you try to pick out some of their moves to remember with Peter. Four had taught the group of you the basics to get started, he never said that you couldn’t mix in what you know as well. Which is nothing, because you’ve never got into a fight before. There was never a need to.

The personalization works out in Edward’s favor. The technique that Molly had used yesterday on Christina is fairly predictable. On top of that, she’s not fast enough to keep up with Edward’s pace. It’s only a matter of minutes before she’s beaten near-unconscious. That’s when Drew and Peter work together to peel her off of the wooden floor and to the nearest wall to recover.

In the short time you have, you take a couple of deep breaths, shaking your hands to rid the anxious energy that’s fueling your body. You make eye contact with Four briefly, and in this time, he gives you a solid nod. He’s confident in your abilities, more so than you are. It’s a shame that you’re probably going to let him down.

Still, you walk your way to the white circle, standing at one end of it while you wait for Peter. When he finally turns his attention to you,. There’s a smile spread across his face, 

“You okay there, Blowhard?” Peter teases, you can almost feel your eyes bulge out of your head at the nickname. “You look like you’re about to cry. I might go easy on you if you cry.”

“Did you just call me a Blowhard?” You sputter out a laugh. “What does that make you, a Crybaby?”

You look past Peter, at Four, who’s standing side-by-side with Eric. His face is twisted, focused hard on the two of you in the ring. Eric, on the other hand, is tapping his foot quickly, impatience shining through.

Peter raises his hands by his face, elbows and knees bent as he begins to prepare for the fight. “Come on, (Y/n). Just one little tear. Maybe some begging.”

Without warning, you swing your leg at his side, intending to land a kick. He’s prepared for this, grabbing your ankle and yanking you forward, pulling you off balance. You land on your back, but quickly twist to get back to your feet, fists returning, readying yourself.

“Stop playing with her.” Eric suddenly snaps. “I don’t have all day.”

This is enough for Peter, as the amused look on his face disappears. His movement is one giant blur, but the pain in your jaw is sharp, as it continues to spread across your face. For a moment, bright white stars and a black void flow across your vision, taking your balance with it. 

You blink rapidly, backing away from Peter as you try to get the room to stop swaying. This lasts for a few seconds at most, because Peter is moving just as quickly as Edward had been. He appears in front of you, foot slamming into your stomach, stealing the air from your lungs. 

You clutch your ribs as you fight through the pain in your abdomen. Peter takes this as an invitation to come closer, but you’re expecting this. You catch his fist as you slide your foot between his legs, tripping him. Instead of falling forward, you throw him back, twisting his arm in the process.

You land on your knees hard. The dull pain is at the front of your thoughts for a second before you’ve got your first slamming into Peter’s nose. You get two hits in, then he takes a fistful of hair at the back of your head, yanking. He repays the favor by punching you in the nose.

It doesn’t matter how hard you kick or slap, because he’s got a tight grip. The next hit he lands is to your ribs, in the same place that you’d been holding onto moments prior. You open your mouth, letting out a strangled cry, and a metallic taste spreads over your tongue. One word comes to mind; blood.

He lets go of your hair, shoving you away. You land on your palms, gasping through your lips, eyes blurry with tears as you search the ground for the white paint. You begin to crawl away, wanting to put some distance between the two of you while you take a breath, but he grabs your ankle, dragging you back toward him.

He draws his foot back, and despite knowing what’s coming, you don’t move in time, letting the toe of his shoe sink into your skin. You cough, the next few seconds are agonizing as you forget how to breathe, like a fish out of water.

“That’s enough.” Four’s voice breaks through the silence. “Get her out.”

“She’s still moving.” Eric tells him. “She gets out when she can no longer go on.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you move to roll over. You won’t play pretend, you refuse to take the easy way out. You are not an Erudite anymore, you won’t run. You’re going to fight.

Somehow you manage to get to your feet, fists raised, eyes barely focusing on Peter long enough to keep track of him. You gather the blood in your mouth, spitting it at his feet.

“Come at me, you little bitch.” You murmur.

Peter flies across the circle, fist coming at your face. You manage to catch it with one hand, and with the other, you slap him with an open palm. The sound of skin-on-skin fills the air, there’s a few audible gasps in the room.

It’s over, you think. Just before Peter knocks your lights out.

When you come back to Earth, you’re suspended in the air, swaying from side to side. You’ve never been motion sick before, but the dizziness is so hard to handle that this is enough to send you over the edge.

“‘M gonna be sick.” You mutter.

The world stops moving for a second, and then you’re placed on your feet. Your hands reach for something to hold on to as support. They come into contact with another hand, which you wrap your fingers around tightly as your breakfast comes back up as a liquid.

When you’re done, you turn to face the person who had just been holding you in their arms. You’re met with Four, who has his eyebrows raised, waiting for you to say something.

“Thank you.” You whisper.

“Why are you thanking me?”

“For putting me down.” You breathe, leaning over with your hands on your knees. “And for trying to get me out of there. And for delaying my fight yesterday.”

When you look at him again, there’s a softer look on his face, different from the scowl that you’re used to seeing. He reaches over, rubbing a hand over your back. “It’s okay, (Y/n).”

“You could’ve gotten in trouble with Eric.” You say, shaking your head as you move to stand straighter. “Why do you sacrifice so much for me?”

Four opens his mouth, and then closes it. It’s silent between the two of you for a minute as he decides how he wants to respond. Or maybe he’s thinking that you’ll change the subject. With your persistence, he sighs.

“Because you’re different.” 

--

this was part of my 3k celeberation!!

[oncasette]

FANGTASIA. send in a character from my guide + one of the prompts below for a drabble!

how about... "you shouldn't have touched them. every single mark on their body is going to be returned to yours." wiiith our mans eric northman!

please, thank you, love youuu!!! 🩵🩵

𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗𝗡'𝗧 𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞

eric northman x fem!reader

summary: 1.3k

You’d had vampire blood. Pam and Chow had been gracious enough to offer you their wrists months after you’d started working at Fangtasia, a safety precaution as they’d claimed. You'd had Eric's blood. He could feel your fear, he knew where you were, why wasn't he coming?

or the one where eric saves you from an anti-vampire rights enthusiast.

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, death, kidnapping, stabbing

a/n: i know i said drabbles but i couldn't contain myself. i am violently ill with my love for this man.

masterlist | taglist

You think you're dying. surely. There's no way the human body would be able to endure this much pain without ultimately giving up the ghost, right? 

You never should have gotten involved with vampires. They were nothing but a bucket of trouble, as your mother would have put it. And has she had put it, a multitude of times, before she'd ever even known you'd applied to work at Shreveport's resident vampire bar. 

What she didn't know, though, was how incredible they could be. How, even without all their supernatural abilities, intensely good they could be when they decided they wanted. How loyal and caring and kind when they chose to do so. Just how beautiful they could be, fangs and all. 

‘Course, there still was that whole bucket of trouble thing. 

"You sure are pretty for a fangbanger," your captor drawled from where he was watching you from across the room. He'd tied you to a chair at the center of it, thick scratchy ropes binding your wrists to the unlaquered wood beneath you. You spit, knowing that it won't reach the man from this distance, but hoping, almost willing it to hit him squarely between the eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you say.

“Ooh,” he whistles. “You’ve sure got a mouth on you, sweet cheeks. Why waste it on one of those dead fuckers when you could have someone with an actual, bleeding fucking heart?”

“You’re a waste of skin, you piece of shit,” you huff. Not that it was any of his goddamn business, anyway, but you had only ever slept with one man, and it sure as shit hadn’t been one of your bosses.

“Aw, c’mon. I bet you get so cold after one of them vampers is inside you, don’t you. All icy and chilly like. Let me give you a little tip, sweetheart. Humans. Need. Warmth.”

“You say that as if you aren’t a fucking sad sack,” you say. “What a sorry excuse for a human, huh?”

“What’d they do to you, huh, girl? Did they glamor you into only wanting a dead man’s dick?” he asks, slowly shifting and standing from his stool so that he could approach you. Despite their constant–and half-hearted–threats, you’d never been glamored by your vampire coworkers. Your breathing shakes as he approaches in swift steps. It’s then that you see the knife in his hand. 

For the first time in a long time, you realize, genuine fear strikes through you. 

“I’m gonna teach those vampers a lesson,” he says. “And you’re going to help me do that.”

You’d had vampire blood. Pam and Chow had been gracious enough to offer you their wrists months after you’d started working at Fangtasia, a safety precaution as they’d claimed. You'd had Eric's blood. He could feel your fear, he knew where you were, why wasn't he coming?

The knife trails along your collarbone. You're glad it was as dull as it was, knowing if it'd been sharper it would be slicing the skin open in its path down. Then he presses down harder. You can’t muffle the whine as it escapes you, no matter how much you want to. No matter how desperately you wish to not show the man that he holds any power over you. You can feel the blood seeping out of the wound. It dribbles down your chest in a thick stream as it pools and stains the gray cotton of your t-shirt.

“Stop!” you plead. He chuckles before driving the blade deeper into you. With feeble force, you try to get him off with a stunted kick to his knee; It was all you could manage with the way your knees had been duct-taped together. 

“Bitch!” he heaves before rearing back to slap you with the bladeless hand. It slashes your cheek, shallowly, thankfully, but you can feel the ache of where his hand had connected with your cheekbone. “You’re gonna regret that.”

He takes the knife and stabs it into your side, just narrowly missing your ribcage. 

Before you can manage out even a wince, the door to the small shack you’d been held in for the last few hours splinters and it unceremoniously removed from its hinges. 

Eric says nothing as he rushes in. You barely register that it’s him save for the split second image you’d captured from where he’d lingered in the doorway. Your captor is off of you instantly, though you’re still bound to the chair. Eric stills. Wind warps around him as he does so, wrapping him in a flurry of movement as he stands with the man locked in his grasp. 

“You never should have fucking touched her,” Eric growls with his fangs fully extended, grip tightening around the burly man’s neck and raising him inches off the ground. There’s not even a hint of the usual smirk you were so accustomed to seeing. “Every single mark on her body will be returned unto you tenfold.”

“She fucking deserved it,” he gargles as the vampire latches onto the expanse of neck not currently held within his hand. The man screams out in anguish and you pull your eyes tight to avoid watching any more. Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hearing. The screams and the rips and the crunches. You hear something hard and solid hit the floor and somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach you know it’s bone. 

You hear the man gasp out a dead fuck only for Eric’s grasp to tighten fully, effectively severing the man’s skull from his spinal chord without detaching it from his body. The man drops to the floor with a loud thump and Eric shoves the corpse away with the toe of his shoe before he moves toward you. 

“What took you so long?” you exhaled as he moved behind you to unbind your wrists. 

“I was away on business,” he gruffs, spitting slightly to get the last of the man’s blood out of his mouth. He’d already drunk his fair share, you thought, what good what that do?

Swallowing, you ask, ��And you still came?”

He walks back around to begin undoing the restraints on your legs. He’s being so gentle, you realize. If he’d wanted, he could have had this done within seconds and yet, here he was, tenderly undoing the tape and rope and rubbing a soothing hand over the abraded skin. 

“I’ll always come for you,” he says. “Until I meet the true death, I will always come for you.”

He extends his wrist up to his mouth and you wince as he punctures the flesh. 

“Eric,” you sigh. 

“Drink,” he says. 

Nodding, you allow him to bring his wrist to your mouth and latch down on the leaking wound. It’s tangy and metallic and overall pretty gross, but you’re more than grateful for it at that moment. You lick your lips when he pulls his arm back down, the small bite marks already well on their way to closing completely. 

“Will you take me home?” you ask, suddenly overwhelmed with the wave of fatigue hitting you. 

He rises back to his full height and extends a hand out towards you. The second you grab it, he’s pulling you up from your chair to hold you flush against his form. Then, in another rush of wind, you’re standing on your front porch. 

Slowly, you pull away from the vampire to take a step towards your door. Your body aches, but it’s already mostly healed as you run a hand over the small incision at your waist. 

“Thank you,” you say. “Eric.”

He’s silent, looking you over in a way that you can’t help but think is more than just an assessment of your injuries. He settles on your eyes when he says, “Anytime.”

[cloudykyu]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 finally gathering up the courage to confess to their crush, yn comes up with a fool proof plan of slipping a love letter into his bag. except yn is very much a fool and put it in the bag belonging to his best friend, kim sunwoo, who happens to have a crush of his own. can these two hopeless romantics help each other confess? let's hope so!

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn reader genre: smau + few written chapters, idiots to lovers, college au, fluff, light angst, humor, love... square? featuring: tbz eric and hyunjae (i love writing them), aespa giselle and karina, nct haechan, other idols may be randomly mentioned warnings: lee haechan lol, ignore timestamps, loosely based off the anime toradora!, swearing, kys jokes, college kids being kids, food mention/pics (more will be added as au progresses) status: ongoing! updates once or twice a week

disclaimer: this is purely a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only and does not represent those mentioned in real life!!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 PROFILES 1 - real and sexy volleyball team

ᯓ���𐭩 PROFILES 2 - womens rights‼️🗣️

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ONE - FOMODEEZNUTS

ᯓᡣ𐭩 TWO - wait a damn minute (written)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 THREE - clingy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 FOUR - get a job

ᯓᡣ𐭩 FIVE - the whispers

ᯓᡣ𐭩 SIX - do you see this shit wonwoo

ᯓᡣ𐭩 SEVEN - you're friggin baked bro (written)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 EIGHT - as long as you're happy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 NINE - yeah ok

ᯓᡣ𐭩 TEN - friend jail

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ELEVEN - sunny (written)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 TWELVE - super freak

ᯓᡣ𐭩 THIRTEEN - no balls

ᯓᡣ𐭩 FOURTEEN - the yn special (written)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 FIFTEEN - bunch of crazies

ᯓᡣ𐭩 SIXTEEN - that's so haechan

ᯓᡣ𐭩 SEVENTEEN - weird

ᯓᡣ𐭩 EIGHTEEN - only for you bro

ᯓᡣ𐭩 NINETEEN - oomf shady

ᯓᡣ𐭩 TWENTY - gojo not all that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 TWENTY-ONE - mark

ᯓᡣ𐭩 TWENTY-TWO - elephant in the room

more parts coming soon!

mani's notes: HELLO IS THIS THING ON HAHAHA i hope you guys didn't forget me like i forgot to finish my other aus before going ia :P but i'm back and it's all thanks to kim sunwoo. i once again cannot escape the voices when it comes to him... anyways pls bare with me as i'm a little rusty at this and i'm also in grad school now WOW!!!

[homiesexuallaj]

Friday the 13th

Pairing: Eric Draven x reader

Genre/Warnings: fluff (kinda), Eric loves Halloween and its decorations, he tries to scare the reader, kinda proofread

A/N: I know it’s not friday the 13th anymore but I couldn’t help but feel inspired (both by the date and my recent love for Brandon Lee/The Crow). Gif belongs to @thecreechercatalog

———

Eric would love Friday the 13th, no matter what month it falls on. But when it’s a month near October, it gets the man super excited and in the spirit. Eric already puts out Halloween decorations early, but with friday the 13th making its rare appearance Eric is putting spooky decorations up super early.

You left for work that morning from a normal looked apartment and a sleeping boyfriend. You’d given Eric a tender kiss to his forehead before leaving quietly. The crisp morning fall air bit at your cheeks, but you didn’t mind at all. You were just happy to wrap up in some clothing.

You worked late tonight, arriving home in the late evening. You climbed the stairs on shaky, tired legs. Upon approaching your door, a white skull was placed in the middle and a garland of purple bats hung from the top of the doorway. You could only shake your head as you unlocked and opened the front door.

You locked the door behind you and turned around to face your shared apartment. It honestly looked like Halloween had exploded in the loft. Strings of bats and little skeletons hung from the ceiling, going from the kitchen all the way into the living room. Orange and purple string lights were wrapped around table legs and lamp poles. Some of the lamp lights had even been changed out for a low, red light. Life-size skeletons were even sat in chairs that you and Eric didn’t occupy that often. Fake pumpkins of all sizes and faces carved also littered the apartment. Up on the little kitchen island and coffee table, white candles of all shapes and sizes were lit. They didn’t smell but added to the ambience of the spooky apartment.

As you milled around, you also discovered that there was a large candy bowl with all of your favorite candies piled in. Just as you were about to pluck a piece from the bowl, you’d gone blind. Ice cold hands blocked your vision. A spark of fear ignited through your body until you heard a voice speak.

“Boo,” A familiar low voice spoke before turning you around with a swift movement.

You were met with a ghostly white face. His eyes were painted black, thin spikes going halfway up his forehead and just over the tops of his cheek bones. His lips were painted a black as well, blood red spilling from his inner slips and his top lip overpainted to show a faux smile.

Despite the frightening features, his eyes swirled with amusement and affection and an adored smile twisted his lips. The man held you by the shoulders softly, excitedly pattering his fingers against your damp jacket.

“Did I scare you?” Amusement laced his words.

“Only a little,” You shrugged.

The man hummed, “Guess i’ll have to try a little harder next time.”

“I guess,” You hummed back, amused at your boyfriend’s antics.

Without a word, Eric began shedding you of your outside clothes. Throwing your jacket and handbag onto a nearby chair, your boyfriend backed away and headed towards the open window to the fire escape. Rain pitter-pattered outside.

“What’s on the agenda tonight, Mr. Draven?” You asked, following him slowly.

“Come find out,” Eric smirked, disappearing out the window and up the fire escape.

You could only chuckle and shake your head at his mysterious antics. Eric Draven always kept you up on your toes.

———

A/N: I have a part 2 idea so if yall want it or if I write it I’ll tag it somewhere on here! And also requests for Mr. Draven are open so go ahead and drop some in my askbox!!

[momhwa-agenda]

Drive me crazy | Octoberfest Day 3

Pairing - boyfriend!Eric x fem!reader

Drink - Martini with a side of whiskey (aka Established relationship & Bondage)

Summary - Eric has always been the kind of boyfriend who loves to spoil you, indulging your desires without hesitation. Tonight, he proves once again that he knew exactly how to keep things exciting.

Word Count - 2.7K

Warnings - SMUT (Minors 18+ DNI!!!), use of restraints, orgasm denial, oral (m and f receiving), spanking, fingering, unprotected sex, backshots, daddy kink, creampie, cockwarming, petnames (baby and darling)

Author’s note - Proofread this once help. My first entry for OctoberFest with friends! I had the pic of the bracelets on standby for 2 years and I finally get to use them for a fic hahasdks.

Taglist - @daisyvisions @midnightfantasiez @snowflakewhispers @kitschun @nyu-topia

⇀ OctoberFest Masterlist

Eric’s thoughts were anything but formal.

His gaze drifted more often than it should, not to the grand chandeliers or the sea of glamorous people—but to you. Specifically, the bracelets adorning your wrists. They seemed innocent enough to anyone else, but all that was missing was the chain linking them together.

He remembered the story behind them, the reason you’d been drawn to those delicate chains from Bijoux Indiscrets the first time you saw them. He could practically hear your teasing voice telling him: “They’re more than just accessories, babe.”

You moved closer to him, your arm brushing his. The sultry cut of your dress revealed just enough to send his mind racing, but it was those bracelets, softly jingling with your movements, that truly got under his skin tonight.

You felt his eyes on you, knowing full well you were the cause of his distraction. A coy smile tugged at your lips as you continued to mingle, pretending not to notice the way his fingers twitched, as if he were already imagining slipping them under the satin fabric of your gown.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice a low rumble. “We need to go.” The words were edged with desire, making your heart skip a beat.

You looked up at him, feigning innocence. “It’s too early to leave...” But the knowing glint in your eyes was pretty clear to Eric what game you were playing.

He didn’t answer. He simply took your hand and guided you toward the elevator. As the doors closed behind you both, the air between you became thick with tension. The moment you were alone, his restraint crumbled. Eric pressed you against the mirrored wall, his hands finding their way to your waist, your bracelets jingling as your arms circled his neck.

“Naughty girl, you did this on purpose,” he muttered against your lips, voice rough with want. “You know what those bracelets do to me.”

A soft laugh escaped you as you nipped playfully at his bottom lip. “I had no idea,” you teased, eyes sparkling with mischief. “They matched the dress.”

He growled softly, gripping your neck in a way that was rough yet with a hint of gentleness. His teeth grazed your skin before he peppered hungry kisses along your sensitive flesh.

When the elevator dinged at your floor, he reluctantly pulled away, his breath ragged. But then he flashed that charming, devilish smile you adored. “I've got something to show you.”

He laced his fingers with yours, leading you down the hallway, until he stopped in front of your hotel suite. With a flourish, he unlocks the door, revealing your hotel suite, except the sight of which left you speechless. The room was now bathed in soft candlelight, rose petals scattered across the plush bed, and a bottle of champagne chilling on ice.

You turned to him, stunned. “Eric…”

He grinned, pulling you into his arms. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

Your heart swelled as you looked around the room, then back at him. “This is…” you break off, overwhelmed with emotion.

“You didn’t think I would forget did you?” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “How could I forget the best day of my life?”

Your eyes shimmered as you smiled up at him. He leaned in, pressing his lips softly to yours.

“Now I feel bad, my outfit is nothing compared to this” you murmured against his lips.

He laughed softly, you nervously fiddled with the collar of his silk shirt. “The outfit was amazing, sweetheart. But you’ll be needing something stronger than these,” he holds your wrists up touching the cool gold accessories.

Before you can say anything further, your boyfriend leads you towards the bed. A box sits waiting for you.

“Go on. Open it” Eric whispers in your ear.

As you unwrap the bow, you uncover a familiar choker that you came across online.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you run your fingers over the cool metal. You take the choker out of the box, the chains that droop elegantly around the hoops send a ripple of arousal through you.

“You didn’t. This can’t be…” Your voice falters, filled with disbelief and excitement.

“There are bracelets to match” Eric just says behind you.

The words barely have time to settle before you turn, heart racing, and capture his lips in a kiss that is as desperate as it is tender. Your fingers cling to him, pulling him closer, the weight of the choker in your hand forgotten for a moment. His lips respond eagerly, meeting yours with the kind of hunger that says he's been waiting for this.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless. Your chest rises and falls, but it's his eyes that hold you in place, dark and intense, filled with something possessive and unrelenting.

Eric’s hand rises slowly, cradling your face with such tenderness that it sends a shiver down your spine. His thumb brushes over your cheek, and you lean into the warmth of his touch. The weight of the choker, the symbolic gesture of ownership, and the thought of him using it on you makes your knees feel weak.

“Tell me….how do you want to start?”

“I want…” You know he was going to give you anything you desired yet there you were, pleading with your eyes “I want to wear them tonight.”

You remove your dress and the bracelets, leaving you bare, save for the lacy thong. Tugging on his shirt collar, you pull him down gently until he’s lying on top of you. His weight is warm and grounding against your body. Your hands rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingers, matching your own racing pulse.

“Claim every part of me, Eric…Until I can’t think of anything else. I trust you.” You spread your arms on either side of the bed, inviting him to cuff your hands with the restraints attached to the bedpost.

His lips curved into a slow smile, but his eyes never left yours, searching, reading every emotion that flickered across your face. “Just tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “I’ll stop the moment you want me to.”

You nodded, heart thudding in your chest, as he took the cuffs from the box. His fingers brush your wrist as he takes your hand, lifting it gently, his touch reverent as if he’s handling something fragile.

The soft clink of metal fills the quiet room as he fastens the first cuff around your wrist, the leather smooth and snug against your skin. The sensation is strange, unfamiliar, but it doesn’t frighten you. Instead, it makes your pulse quicken with a heady mix of trust and desire. You watch him as he moves with deliberate slowness, ensuring that the leather isn’t too tight, that you’re still comfortable.

With the first cuff in place, he stretches your arm carefully toward the bedpost, securing it there. You feel the tension in your body, not from discomfort, but from the raw vulnerability of it. Your breath hitches as he moves to the other wrist, repeating the process, his fingers brushing your skin with a tenderness that contrasts with the tension in the room.

You then sit up a little as Eric gently lifts the choker, bringing it up to your throat. His hands are steady as he clasps it behind your neck, but you feel the tremor of his breath, betraying the desire simmering beneath his calm exterior.

The chains brush your skin, and you gasp softly, your body reacting to the subtle sensation. His fingers linger at your neck, tracing the line of the chain with a deliberate slowness that sends a wave of heat rolling through you, before he twirls the material around his finger.

“Does baby want to be choked?”

“Yes, please” you gasp. Eager to test the choker, Eric tugs on the chain, causing it to tighten around your neck. The sudden pressure catches you off guard, momentarily stealing your breath. Yet, a moan escapes your lips, surprising even you. Your reaction—both the sound and the look on your face—sends Eric's pulse racing. A wicked grin spreads across his face; he was going to relish having you at his mercy.

“Do you think you deserve my cock?” he gets off the bed momentarily to strip down the rest of his clothes, without taking his eyes off of you. Once he pulls his briefs down, the delicious monster cock you love so much slaps against his abs. You gulp at how turned on he was.

He hasn’t even touched you but it was also the way his eyes roamed over the sight of you lying ready for him. God you looked beautiful and perfect to him.

“I want…very much, daddy. I need your cock in my mouth, please” You beg.

Eric crawls over you, until he was straddling you enough that he slowly rubbed his member over your stomach. He kisses your lips, fueled by the hunger that’s been building between you all night, as his hands roam down to grope your breast.

He breaks the kiss, cradling your face once more. You roll out your tongue, licking his palm mischievously. That was it for him to push himself into your mouth. Satisfied groans leave your mouth and his. With Eric, it was the feeling of being inside your warm mouth, while for you it was the need to taste every inch of him like a quiet ache that would never go away. You pride yourself in making Eric feel desired, you love every aspect of his body. You loved his dick so much, and you would give him everything regardless of what position he had you in.

Eric then began to thrust in you, testing your limits by pushing a little further. You didn’t let him down as you lifted your head, trying to take all of him, alternating from sucking him slow, to hard and fast. Eric’s head started to feel heavy, he gripped the headboard rails as he continued to push himself in and out of your mouth. The effect you had on him was slowly pushing him to the edge, but he didn’t want this to end so soon. He pulls out from your mouth and you whine.

“Sorry darling but it’s my turn. I want to taste you now” he leaves a quick kiss on your chest before flipping you over, so you were in an all fours position, with your ass up.

You didn’t realize how wet you’ve gotten the whole time, because once Eric rips your lace panties off of you and presses a soft kiss on your folds, you cry upon hearing the sounds of your soaked core mixed with Eric’s groans. From finally feeling touched from where you needed him most.

“Fuck, sucking me off turned you on this much, huh?” Eric mutters, and all you can do is moan as he goes back to licking and ravishing your sweet pussy. As if it wasn’t enough, Eric slaps your ass, the sting makes you arch your back. You were dripping with so much need that your knees threatened to buckle, but it felt so good that you just pushed your butt into the air. 

“More, daddy please” you whimper, gripping a fistful of the bedsheet.

He slaps your ass once more, it’s harder this time, earning another cry from you. Eric returns to licking your clit while shoving two fingers in your cunt incessantly, the squelching noises turning him on so hard. He needed you like this, he could make you come apart multiple times, but there was something he enjoyed about playing with your pussy so much before entering you.

Once he felt you tighten around his two digits, he knew you were close. He pulls his fingers out of you completely, sucking them as you whine again from the loss of contact.

“You think you’re ready for my cock now?” He asks.

“Y-yes!” you attempt in the daze he put you in. “I’m daddy’s good girl. I’m ready for anything daddy wants!”

With that he smirks, aligning his cock teasingly on your folds and he groans with how wet you are, it’s so much to coat him. Just as he wanted. You whine from the teasing and Eric spanks you to behave.

“Be patient, darling,” he warns.

He enters you with ease, you were soaking so much, honestly both of you could come here and now. Instead Eric holds his breath, pushing in and out of you slowly. He holds you by the waist, pulling you closer to him that your back is against his chest. His breath warm against your neck sends shivers all over you. Your eyes lock, and you can’t help but smile at the expression in his gaze, as he loosens the chain of the choker; adjusting its position so the string of chains is resting on the back of your neck.

“This just like what you imagined, yeah?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and rough. His hands grip your hips, his fingers digging in just enough to remind you of the strength he holds.

You nod at him “Everything and more.”

Eric presses a soft kiss on your forehead, before he presses one hand on your back for you to bend down for him again. He smooths his hand over your back before spanking you once more, all while snapping his cock back in, you could swear his balls slapped against your pussy.

His thrusts start to grow rough and animalistic. You’re practically burying your face into the soft mattress, which muffles your cries. If only you could see how you both looked right now, your mind would go haywire.

“Don’t muffle your sounds now, baby,” he leans, reaching down, sweeping your hair over your shoulder, exposing the nape of your neck. “I want to hear how good I make you feel.”

He pulls on the chain, causing you to arch your back. You felt your heart race, the intensity of the moment leaving you lightheaded with desire. Eric swears he’s heard your cries of pleasure so many times, it’s music to his ears. But the moan you let out just now was something else. It’s beautiful and sexy. All this from the choker clasping tight on your neck, mixed with the feeling of his steady thrusts in your pussy.

All this for him. It drove him so mad with desire his eyes rolled back as he continued rolling his hips, while holding on to the chain.

“Is this too much for my girl?” he grunted.

“No! It's perfect! P-please…don’t stop! Not until I’ve cum hard on your cock” you manage through strained breaths, the choker was squeezing your throat but it was just the right amount that added to your arousal.

Eric fucks his cock relentlessly into you until you’re screaming when your climax shatters you hard. You drop yourself on the mattress, gripping the sheets as Eric continues fucking you through it; your soaked cunt helping him chase his own release. You were so dazed from your climax yet the way he roughly pounded himself into you, your eyes widened as you began to feel a second climax threatening to snap.

You come a second time, and your cries meld with his in an erotic symphony, filling the room.

“Fuck…” his breath ragged, as he leans down pulling you to his embrace. Eric held you close, peppering soft kisses from your neck to your shoulder. His cock still inside you. You could feel the mix of your juices with his spilling a little on the bed, but it didn’t matter. You were high on cloud nine to even care.

“Baby, are you still with me?” he whispers in your ear, while caressing your stomach.

“Fuck me like that again, okay,” you whimpered. Eric chuckles in response. Of course you wanted more, you always did. Even though you were clearly out of strength and needed a break, you’d always ask for more.

“As long as you want, baby, as long as you want” he reassures you.

[fanfictiongirlie]

Twilight: The Human and the Wolf Chapter Two

Click here for masterlist

Parings: Paul Lahote x OC (First person, no use of Y/N)

Description: Bella Swan's twin moved to Forks with her sister. Whilst Bella falls for a vampire, her twin falls for a wolf. The story runs parallel to Bella's story in Twilight. But following her twin and her life with the wolves.

Rating: Eventually explicit.

Warnings: Nothing in this chapter.

Chapter Two - He's a Red Flag

Over the next week Bella was stressed over the fact that Edward Cullen, the strange boy from her Biology class hadn't come to school. She didn't let our little group know how bothered she was by it, but I knew. I shook my head every time she spoke about it, and told her to not worry, he was probably ill. 

We sat in the cafe at what had become our regular table along with Jess, Angela, Mike, Ben and Eric, there was a few more people lingering near the table, but I honestly couldn't remember their names. I watched Bella as I ate my food quietly, she kept looking over to the Cullen table, all but Edward were sitting over there. It was a little creepy, they looked too...perfect? I almost wanted to shield Bella from them...I wasn't sure why I felt like that. 

"Bella, what's so interesting over there?" Jessica asks. 

"Yeah Bells, why?" I ask, genuinely interested as to why, Edward Cullen wasn't going to suddenly materialise, so why stare?

Bella jolts back into our conversation as if we had completely broken her out from her thoughts. 

"Uh, nothing. Just...nothing" She replies, trying to sound casual, but the flicker of worry gives her away. I sigh softly, she was barely talking, and I didn't feel like talking to the others. 

"I have Chemistry with Alice, the shorter one, she's....nice" I say unsure, but I knew talking about the Cullens would get Bella talking to me. Her attention turns to me now, a hint of intrigue in her gaze. 

"Oh really? What's she like?" She asks me, I'm taken aback slightly at her enthusiasm, I chuckle softly before answering. 

"Nice, a little weird"

"Weird in what way?" Bella asks.  

"I don't know Bella, just weird" I answer, shrugging my shoulders. Alice Cullen was nice...she knew every answer in class, and she mostly doodled. 

Bella laughs lightly at my response, she shakes her head before replying "You're not much help, you know that?"

"I'm not a private investigator you know" I answer as I take another bite of my sandwich. She rolls her eyes at me, a fond smile over her lips as he reaches over to playfully smack my arm. 

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm just curious, that's all"

"Your obsession with the Cullens is weird Bells" I mutter, I hadn't really meant for her to hear me, but she does. She lets out an offended noise, a huff of annoyance escaping her lips, but she scowls playfully, so maybe I hadn't completely upset her. Thankfully. 

"Hey, I'm not obsessed" She whines, letting out an offended noise "I'm just....intrigued. There's a difference"

"Sure Bells" I smirk, letting my mind wander back to Paul. He was by far the prettiest man I had ever seen,, man? Boy? He was seventeen just like me. Thinking about him made me feel a little giddy inside, so much so I felt silly. 

"Ah that look...You're thinking about that cute boy you met, aren't you?" Bella asks, a small smirk on her pale face. 

"Yeah" I say quietly, hoping the girls on the table wouldn't hear, I was not in the mood for a gossip session. Bella seems to notice so she lowers her voice as she speaks to me. 

"Mhm, I thought so, you must really like this guy"

"It was a five minute conversation...nothing more than that" I answer. 

"Sure, a five minute conversation, but those five minutes seem to make quite the impression on you, you've been swooning ever since" She teases. I roll my eyes slightly, she wasn't completely wrong. 

"Says you, at least Paul was nice to me, you said Edward was nothing but rude" I argue back playfully. Bella noticeibly bristles at my jab, a quick annoyed look flashing through her eyes. She quickly composed herself and sighs exasperatedly. 

"Okay, fine. So Edward was a bit rude. But....there's something about him. He's mysterious, you know?"

"Red flag" I whisper playfully as I stand up, ready to go to my next class. 

"Yeah, a big, red, glaring one. I know" She grins, an amused look over her face, she didn't seem to realise I wasn't joking when I called Edward a red flag. I shake my head and walk off to my next class, I sat by Mike Newton. He was nice enough, he needed to give up trying to get with every girl near him. 

Mike grins widely as I sit down, he had been opening flirting with me for the past two days, seizing any opportunity, which was weird considering I had met him a few days ago. 

"Hey, you're looking really pretty today"

"Oh, thanks Mike" I smile politely. Mike grins, obviously feeling encouraged by my words and smile. He leans in a little closer to me, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

"So, I was wondering...would you maybe be interested in going out sometime? Maybe we could grab some dinner this weekend?"

"Oh" I say quickly "I'm actually busy this weekend"

He smile falters slightly, disappointment flashes in his eyes. But he quickly regains his cheerful demeanour, masking his disappointment. He gives you a nod and a tight-lipped smile. 

"Oh, no worries. Maybe some other time then" He grins. 

"Maybe" I say, smiling softly. I bring my focus back to the lesson and took notes, paying attention to only my work and not Mike. 

Once class was over, I walked to my car with Mike, he had insisted walking with me, which I didn't mind. I said goodbye to Mike and climbed into the car, I drove to the little diner and walked in, seeing Bella and our dad. 

They both looked happy to see me as I joined them. 

"Mike Newton asked me again" I say to Bella. She raises her eyebrows at my blunt declaration, while our dad looked at me surprised. 

"And what did you say?" Bella asked. 

"I said no, as I'm busy this weekend, plus I'm not interested in Mike"

"Busy doing what?" She asked. 

"I'm seeing Jacob this weekend, and his friends" I answer smiling. "You should come Bells" I add a little wiggle to my eyebrows as I say this, looking at her. Jacob definitely still fancied Bella, and he was probably better for her than Edward. 

"Oh you're trying to play matchmaker now?"

"Nooo, but he has it bad for you" I giggled playfully. 

"Really? He does?" She asked, her tone suggested she didn't believe me. Our food was delivered to us and I happily started eating. 

"Oh yeah for sure" I add, smirking a little. 

Bella shakes her head lightly, a look of disbelief over her face. 

"Honestly I thought he had moved on, it's been a while since we last hung out" Bella mused as she picked at her food. 

"Oh he's like fifteen, let him have his school boy crush" I answered. 

Bella chuckles at my remark, she nods. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right"

"Sorry dad, probably an awkward conversation for you" I giggle softly turning to our dad. He had been quietly listening to our conversation, he lets out a dry chuckle. He gives a slight shrug, a slightly uncomfortable expression on his face. 

"Yeah, a bit. I'm not exactly eger to think about young, hormonal teenagers crushing on my daughters"

"It's Jacob dad, hes harmless" I giggle softly. 

Charlie sighs, a mix of resignation and slight annoyance on his face. He gives me a stern but affectionate look. 

"I know he's harmless. He's a good kid. But it's still uncomfortable for a dad to think of his daughter's love life"

Taglist: @jaybbygrl

[xxchumanixx]

You're absolutely right, Eric Winter is the Godfather of sexyness🔥

Anyway, I hope you don't mind that I came up with with a The Rookie idea 🤗 hear me out my love hear me out:

Reader is a cop. Tim and her secretly harboring feelings for each other but they would never admit it

Everything was fine until one night when they were out with the others to celebrate and then they had a drunken one night stand

The next day Tim tells her that it was a mistake and they should forget about it. Reader is heartbroken and devastated.

Tim is also sad about the situation but he thinks it's for their best, so he even tries to avoid reader at work and she him

Until one day they have to partner up and go on patrol together

Above this uncomfortable situation reader is also feeling under the weather and feeling ill, but she doesn't want to show weakness towards Tim. So she tries to live trough the day despite her beginning to burn up and feeling weak

They got called to warehouse but it's a trap and they got captured

Tim finally starts to talk to her but notices how pale and sick she looks

He goes in full worried Tim mode

He tries to keep her calm and help her in her sick state

He apologizes for his behavior and they talk about their feelings

Reader is starting worsen, Tim holds her

With a lot of drama, sick reader, worried Tim until they're found

What do you think?

Have a nice day 💕💐

Intoxicated

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, mdni!, smut, unprotected p i v (wrap it before you tap it!), slight praise kink, hell of a lot angst, fluff

Word count: 4.939

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I absolutely loved it and I hope you'll like the way I wrote it! I don't know how, but somehow this ended up in present tense, not past tense. It's like my brain was offline when I started to write. Anyways, I hope you don't mind!

Im pretty sure I switched somewhere between the tenses, and haven't corrected it yet, so please let me know!

Enjoy!

You can't help the giggle that escapes you, when you try to open your door. Tim giggles along with you, his smile being so much more intoxicating in this moment, than you remember it.

Even though he's just waiting for you to open your door to bid you good night, before he would continue on to his own house, you can't help the exited feeling that's cursing through your veins.

You'd give more than everything to have him stay over. But that's just a fantasy - a very good one, but still.

You are colleagues, nothing more. Good friends, maybe, but that's it.

You're just coming home from a night out with your friends and other colleagues, having had a drink too much.

Tim had to hold you up all the way to your house, or otherwise you would have stumbled and fallen most of the time.

His hands had felt wonderful on your waist, a feeling that would surely burn its way into your brain forever.

When you finally hear the familiar click, you look up at him in triumph. He cocks a brow, huffing a laugh at your proud smile.

Heaving a sigh, you push the door open, turning back around to him. He's still looking at you, his face adorned by a warm smile though his eyes seem darker in the light of your porch's lantern.

The atmosphere prickles like electricity, it's thick - at least it is for you, as you inhale shakily.

He swallows thickly, taking a step closer.

"Are you sure you can take it from here?" he rasps, his voice suddenly hoarse. "Or do you need any help?"

He can't deny that he secretly hopes you would want his help. You had been intoxicating the whole evening, catching his gaze more than once with the way you looked and carried yourself that night.

His fingers feel numb, as the electricity shoots through them, his heart beating unsteadily.

Yours does the same, eyes locked onto his, as you search your mind for an answer.

"Some help would be great." you finally breathe out, watching his adam's apple bob, as he swallows again.

Nodding, he bites his lip, before you walk inside backwards, placing your keys on the dresser beside the door.

Once he crosses the threshold, he pushes the door closed with one hand, gaze still locked on yours.

Your breathing becomes shallow, heart pumping in your throat, as you anticipate his next moves.

Would he really just help you, so you'd be tucked in bed safely, before he left? Or would he help you in the most delicious way, the one you secretly yearn for?

Once the door clicks shut, he closes the distance, his hands grabbing your neck, as he pulls you closer. His lips meet yours like a starved man, not sweet, but hungrily and demanding.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, his sudden boldness leaving you dizzy.

Your hands interlock behind his neck, one of them brushing though his hair, as you tug him even closer.

His tongue brushes over your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You give in more than willingly, sighing into his mouth, as his hands find your waist.

His touch almost burns you, the intensity of his kisses soon leaving you breathless. It's a sensation you're sure you'll never forget.

He pushes you against the wall behind you, hands wandering further down, before they grab your thighs, letting you know that he wants you to jump.

And so you do.

As he walks you towards your bedroom, you can't help but sigh dreamily.

This is all you had silently wished for.

Even though you are drunk, you suddenly feel sober again.

As he lies you down on your bed, his lips leave yours, sucking on your neck instead. You moan as he finds that sweet spot that has your toes curling, causing him to suck even harsher.

His hard-on presses against your thigh, giving you a hint of what lies beneath the jeans - it was a lot.

He grabs the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head, before discarding of it on the floor. His lips greedily trace every inch of skin he exposed, kissing his way down the valley of your breasts, fingers fumbling for the clip of your bra.

Once he opens it, he lets it join your shirt on the floor, one of his hands grabbing a breast, kneading it. It makes you moan, arching your back into him.

It doesn't take him long to move further downwards, getting rid of your pants and underwear, after removing his shirt. He tugs you closer to the edge of the bed with his arms wrapped around your thighs, breath ghosting over your heat.

You are a whimpering mess under him, only growing louder, as his mouth attaches to your clit, sucking and licking, his hands firmly holding you in place.

Your sounds spur him on, his name on your lips; his hips frantically rolling against the bed frame in search for some friction. He hums at the taste of you, the sound vibrating through your cunt, eliciting another string of moans to fall from your lips.

He alternates between licking and sucking, tongue circling your entrance, before he slowly pushes a finger inside. He curls it just right, hitting that spongy spot that has his name cried into the night.

In a matter of minutes he has you coming on his tongue and fingers, riding you through your first orgasm of the night, as you continue to whimper his name like a mantra. He takes everything you give him, greedily lapping at you.

You can taste yourself on his lips, his tongue licking into your mouth. When he pushes inside it causes you both to groan, and he hisses as you grip him so tightly.

Panting, you try to calm your racing heart, as he pulls off his pants, before joining you on the bed again. His lips entangle with yours, as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

Falling into a steady rhythm, your legs wrap around his waist, granting him even deeper access. You can't help but gaze down at where you both are connected, moaning at the sight.

His lips find yours again, before they brush down your throat, kissing and sucking, stars appearing behind your closed eyelids, as your head tilts back.

You moan loudly, when he hits that sweet spot, cock softly kissing it. He does it again and again, hitting it so good.

"You're so tight." he grits out and you whimper in return. "Takin' me so good."

His words send shivers down your spine and you clench down on him. He hisses in return, smirking to himself. "You're doing so good for me, gripping me so deliciously." he praises, drawing a strangled moan from you.

"I'm close, Tim!" you breathe out, gazing up at him through hooded eyes. His meet yours and he nods. "Me too, baby." His lips graze your cheek, brushing up to the shell of your ear. "Come for me." he demands, hips snapping against yours. "Come all over my cock for me."

You cry out his name, following his demand as you come hard, squeezing him and he follows, stilling balls deep inside you, as he paints your walls with his cum.

You pant, shivering as he fills you up, his cum slowly oozing back out of you.

You swallow, heart pounding violently against your ribs. Tim slips out of you and you shudder at the sudden emptiness.

Sitting up, you watch as he collects his clothes, putting them back on. Suddenly it's awkward as you're sitting there, unsure of what you should do.

Scrambling for your own clothes you mimic his actions, until you're standing in front of each other, fully dressed again.

He seems hesitant, not sure what to do or say either.

"I'm gonna head home." he then says, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "See you tomorrow."

You just nod, eyes following as he walks to the door, eyes meeting yours for a split second, before he leaves.

You feel like shit.

Used, that somehow sums it up.

Walking into the bedroom you shed your clothes again, before stepping into the shower and turning the water on.

Trying to forget the gnawing feeling in your stomach, you scrub at your body, trying to wash him off of you.

His touch, his kisses, his scent.

But it doesn't work.

Not even the saltiness of your tears gets the feeling of his lips off your skin.

When you're lying in bed, wide awake, you try to think of anything other than him.

But nothing works.

_____

When the alarm goes off the next morning, you groan, rolling over to shut it off.

You haven't slept much, barely able to slip into the darkness without his face behind your closed eyelids.

Getting ready for work, you drag yourself around the house, before gathering your keys and heading to the station.

Somehow it feels strange, everyone seems to stare at you, like they know what you and Tim did last night.

But they don't, and they're not actually staring at you, barely glancing your way as you bid good morning.

Tim is already there, you've seen his truck when you parked. Dread is eating at you, not sure if you want to see him at all.

Walking into roll call, taking a seat at your usual spot, your eyes scan the room. He isn't there yet, but as you realize he'd sit right beside you - like he usually would - your heart picks up its speed.

Panic suddenly floods you, as you consider if you should go sit somewhere else.

But as the room slowly fills with people, your chance at another seat reduces more and more. When Tim enters the room, you stiffen.

Missed your chance.

He avoids looking at you, only mumbling a good morning, as he takes a seat beside you. Your arms brush against each other, and you flinch back involuntarily.

His eyes find yours at the motion for the briefest of moments, before they avert. Shrinking into your seat, you bite you lip, arms pressed to your body to avoid another touch.

Suddenly, you regret what you did last night. It seems to have changed everything - how could it not, right?

What else do you expect?

Sighing quietly, you wait for Grey to begin, so you could concentrate on him instead.

He assigns tasks, before he dismisses you.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you get up hastily, but Tim has the same idea.

You bump into each other like two teenagers on the run, before he takes the lead, walking out of the room in front of you.

"Tim!" you call out after him, before you can stop yourself, flinching internally.

He stops in his tracks, biting his cheek, before he gathers the courage to turn around to you.

"Yeah?" he asks, taking a step closer. You search his eyes for any indication of regret, unfortunately finding it.

He looks pained, like he wants to get away from this conversation as fast as possible.

"Can we talk?" you ask, voice lowered so other colleagues wouldn't hear. His eyes swipe through the room, before he nods once.

You follow him into the empty break room, stopping when he does.

"What do you want to talk about?" he wants to know, like he doesn't already know the answer.

"Last night." you press out, fighting to keep up the eye contact. He nods, biting his cheek again.

"Look, I know we... had sex, but it was a mistake, okay? It won't happen again." he says, all the while keeping a straight face.

Your heart crushes, but you won't let him see it.

You can't.

Not when he had you moan his name so often last night, that you aren't able to think anything else other than Tim.

Not to mention the way he talked to you. Or more like praised you.

A cold shiver runs down your spine, as you gape at him like a fish.

Cheeks flaming up, you look away, jaw ticking as you try to suppress the tears.

His face contorts, pain flashing through his eyes. He hates doing this to you, but he has no other choice.

Thankfully, you don't see it, as he steels himself, before you look back up at him.

Before you can say anything, someone enters the room, seemingly in search for some bad coffee.

Without another glance, you turn around, leaving him behind to find your rookie, his carefully put up mask crumbling with a pang in his heart.

Finding your rookie - or rather John's, but yours for the day, considering John isn't at the station until tomorrow - you send her a small smile.

"Celina." you greet her with a nod, motioning for her to walk towards the already prepared war bags, gathering them along with the guns.

She carries them towards the shop, storing them in the back, before heading to the passenger side.

"What's up with you?" she asks, sending you a worried glance. Brows furrowing, you get into the shop, buckling up. "Don't know what you're talking about." you give back, starting the engine.

You have been talking to her a lot since she started as a rookie, getting along pretty well.

That she can seemingly read you so well, has you swallowing.

This shift will be a stressful one.

_____

And it is.

You swear at some point Celina's stares have begun to burn holes into your skin.

"What happened?" she asks for what feels like the hundredth time, barely two hours into the shift. "I'm sensing strong discomfort."

Sighing, you grumble her name, though you know she probably won't stop. With Nolan she wouldn't be this forward, but you two had become sort of friends over the past few months.

"Okay, yes something happened." you finally give in with wide eyes and a motion that said 'happy now?', before carefully scanning your surroundings, as a sigh leaves your lips.

"With Tim?" she asks, still looking at you, even though you refuse to meet her gaze. "Did you sleep with each other?"

"No!" you respond a little too fast, eyes widening even more, causing her to tilt her head at you with a cocked brow.

"...maybe?"

Her own eyes widen as well, not having expected to be right with her assumption. "Wait what?" she gasps, leaning forward in her seat.

Rolling your eyes, you silently hope for a call, something to get you out if this situation.

And you're prayers are heard.

_____

It has been a week that feels like a whole month.

Tim avoids you whenever he can, and you do the same.

You should have known it would ruin everything.

Waiting for Grey to finish, you squint your eyes. Everything has been blurry since the morning, your body heating up slowly as time passes.

But you didn't want to call in sick, so you pushed through and to work with a sigh to yourself. You aren't one that gets sick fast, so you intended for it not to stop you.

"Bradford, you're with Y/L/N today." Grey's voice rips you out of your thoughts, gaze snapping up. If he sees the look of disbelief and panic on your face, he doesn't show it.

Or he simply doesn't care, as your watch commander.

Standing, your eyes hesitantly meet Tim's, who's across the room. You had switched seats with another colleague, so you wouldn't be sitting beside Tim anymore.

Sighing, you follow him, as he leaves the room, heading for the shop.

When you both stop behind it, his brows furrow. "Where are the war bags?" he wants to know, and your brows furrow as well. "Thought you'd get them." you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

He groans in annoyance, the sound making you feel worse, before he leaves, going to gather the things you need.

Fumbling with your body cam nervously, you wait for him in the shop, glancing into the side mirror, when the doors slide back open. He stores the bags and guns in the back, before getting into the drivers seat.

You don't talk, as he leaves the garage, driving out onto the bustling streets of Los Angeles.

Sighing to yourself, you adjust in your seat, back aching. His eyes drift over to you for a brief moment, taking in your appereance.

You are looking uncomfortable, but not only from the current situation. There are bags under your eyes, indicating that you didn't get enough sleep. The slightest bit of sweat makes your forehead glisten, and he wonders if you're feeling ill.

But he holds his tongue, not saying anything.

Your heart races, only adding to the uncomfortable feeling creeping into your bones. It isn't only Tim's presence, but whatever you might have caught, as well.

Coughing quietly, you lean forward in your seat; inhaling deeply, when you can breathe again. Yesterday you were feeling good, so why are you getting so sick now?

Tim's eyes wander back to you, brows furrowing, before he looks back out of the window.

The silence is deafening, tension palpable. Your tongue feels like lead, your feelings making it hard to speak.

"Can we stop to get more water?" you ask hoarsely, not daring to look his way. He nods, the crease between his brows deepening, as does his worry for you.

He can't deny that he's worried, not sure what you are going through that has you looking so pale. He's sure it's not only his presence, though.

When he parks, he motions for you to stay in the car, getting out, before you can protest. Huffing, you lean back in your seat, silently grateful that you don't have to go yourself.

Eyes closing, you breathe in deeply, trying to relax and lessen some of the pain in your back. But, when the door opens and Tim gets back into the shop, all relaxation goes out of the window again.

"Are you okay?" he wants to know, handing you two bottles of water. You nod, taking them without really looking at him, shivering as his hand brushes yours.

"I'm fine." you assure him, trying to sound stronger than you actually feel.

His teeth grit, but he doesn't push further - he doesn't have the right to, not when he's possibly responsible for how you're feeling.

With a nod, he buckles up, starting the engine and driving south, when the radio comes to life.

"7-Adam-100, we have a reported dispute, possibly armed, at a warehouse, 5601 Pico Boulevard. Do you copy?" "7-Adam-100, dispute, possibly armed, at 5601 Pico Boulevard." Tim speaks into the radio. "Copy, we're on it."

You rub your temples, clearing your throat, as you try to clear your head as well, shaking off the uneasy feeling.

The drive is quiet, except for the sirens, adrenaline pushing through your veins, alleviating some of the pain and aching. When you arrive, you draw your gun, hopping out of the shop and quietly following Tim.

Heading inside carefully, you start to clear the place, brows furrowing at how quiet it is.

How odd.

That is, until something heavy hits your head, and all you suddenly see is darkness.

With a groan you startle awake, sight blurry, as you try to make out your whereabouts. The air smells dusty and bad, brows furrowing. Pain shoots through your head, and you groan again.

What happened?

Blinking, you try to clear your vision, slowly making out another silhouette. "Tim?" you breathe out, once you're able to make him out in the light above.

He grumbles something, before his eyes meet yours.

"Hey," he brings over his split lips, blood already drying. "You're awake, thank god." You try to swallow the dryness in your throat away, but it makes you cough.

You feel feverish, body aching to the bones. You swallow again, in desperate need for some water. Sweat trickles down your neck and forehead, hair sticking to your skin.

You feel like shit.

"I'm not feeling good, Tim." you mumble, head lolling to the side. "Hey, stay awake!" Tim demands, causing your eyes to snap back to him.

He's bound to a chair, diagonally sitting beside you. Eyes widening, you realize you've been captured.

"Either they hit you real hard, or somethings up with you." he speaks, trying to analyze you from his position. "Either way, you're not looking good."

You huff, anger bubbling up beside the sick feeling in your stomach, vision lightly turning, but you try to keep it together. "As if you care."

He looks genuinely taken aback, forgetting he's being held captured for a moment. "Why wouldn't I?" he wants to know, leaning forward as best as he can.

"Because you refuse to even look at me." you retort, looking away, trying to inspect your surroundings instead. It's dark, except for the lamp dangling above you. "Because you refuse to engage with me no matter how."

You hear him swallow, as he licks his lips.

"That's not true." he mutters, inhaling shakily. Your gaze snaps to his, disbelief painted on your face. He holds your gaze, his own hardening slightly. "I do care. I care enough to end things before you can regret them."

You laugh dryly, anger seeping through.

"And what's with fucking me?" you ask, biting your cheek. "What about that?"

He flinches, swallowing again, as his gaze wavers. "We were drunk." he tries to play it off, shaking his head with a frown. "We weren't that drunk." you give back, leaning further back in the chair.

It's quiet for a while, your body growing hotter, the more time passes. You cough, groaning at the sick feeling that's making your stomach turn like a washing machine.

"You're sick." Tim realizes, eyes widening and you chuckle coldly. "No shit, Sherlock."

Someone chuckles behind you, causing you to jump in your chair, the wood scraping over the floor angrily. Heart racing, you try to catch your breath, head turning to watch the man come up in front of you.

"Well, that's the wonders of our chemical knowledge." he speaks, his accent thick. It sounds Italian, you think, as your brows furrow, same as Tim's.

"A bit of this, a bit of that, and you have a potent poison that makes you feverish, nauseous and sick."

Breath fastening, you swallow thickly, glancing at Tim. He fumes in his seat, eyes shooting daggers at your captor, who seems unfazed by it.

Panic grips at you with its iron claws, shivers running down your spine.

"Don't worry, it's nothing too serious." the man explains, grimacing. "Wouldn't want a dead cop on me, no. It'll wear off, but it gives me the perfect opportunity to tell you-" He cuts himself off, a sick grin splitting his lips, revealing pearly white teeth.

"Whups, maybe it is deadly. Should have read the description better, I guess."

Tim leaps forward, only held back by the thick ropes around his wrists. Fire spits from his eyes, and something tells you he'd kill the guy, if he wasn't restricted.

You try to focus, failing as you begin to hyperventilate.

I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die.

You hear the man laugh heartily, like he just heard the best joke on earth. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can only partly make out the mans frame slowly stepping back into the darkness, eventually slamming a door behind him somewhere down the warehouse.

Tim yells after him, tugging on the binds, the chair scraping over the floor with the sheer force of his tugs.

When the tears start to fall, you hear a crack, followed by a grunt.

Tim has managed to tip the chair over, bringing enough force with him to break a part of it, using it to free himself.

"Hold on Y/N." he says, working on the rope with the wood. "I'm here with you."

You sob, dread eating you alive. You are gonna die, and you didn't even have a chance to really live your life.

Another grunt, and he has freed himself.

Making his way over, he starts to untie the ropes around your wrists, but the fever burning your whole body blocks the feeling of his skin on yours out. When he's kneeling in front of you, his hand softly connecting with your forehead, you flinch at how cold he feels.

"Fuck." he mumbles, knowing that your skin was way too hot.

He helps you down from the chair onto the cold floor, fishing for his back up phone, that was clipped to his body, where your captor didn't find it.

He dialed the station, calling for an ambulance.

Breathing heavily, the tears run down your cheeks in cold tracks. When he ends the call, he brings you into his arms, embracing you in a hug.

"I'm so sorry." he mumbles into your hair, his breath cooling your burning skin. "I'm so sorry."

You sob, choking on your tears.

"Don't be." you whisper, hands fisting his shirt. "It's not your fault." But he shakes his head, something cool hitting your skin - a tear.

"I shouldn't have distanced myself from you." he speaks, tugging you even closer. "I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry."

Shaking your head, you rest your forehead on his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "You didn't want to be near me after what happened, I don't blame you." you tell him, swallowing, but he shakes his head frantically.

"That's not true."

Your brows furrow, lips trembling. "What do you mean?" you rasp out, coughing once. "I mean that I didn't want to distance myself." he explains, a shaky hand brushing through your sweaty hair. "You have no clue how badly I wanted to be near you. But I didn't want to ruin what we have, I didn't want to face the possibility that you'd regret what we did. So I tried to give you space, telling myself, that it was the right thing to do."

A sob racks through your body, shaking him with you.

"But I don't regret it." you tell him, more tears falling. "I don't, because I love you."

It's now or never.

He stiffens, before he's the one shaking you now, with a sob of his own.

You are in his arms, dying, and you just told him what he was wishing to hear from you for god knows how long.

But you are dying.

"I love you, Tim." you tell him again, lifting your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder, nose brushing his pulse point. "And I don't regret it, not for a second."

He breathes out shakily, holding you against him. "I love you too, Y/N." he rasps out, smiling despite the situation you were in. You breathe a sigh of relief, and it let's you see a light at the end of the tunnel, if even for just a moment.

Black splotches obscure your vision, the world around you slowly fading. But you don't care anymore, not when you are held by the man you so deeply loved.

"Hey, hey!" you hear him say, his face coming into view, as he pats your cheek. "Stay with me, Y/N." You nod, trying to follow his demand, but it gets harder with each passing second.

You hear sirens in the distance, shouting, as Tim rocks you in his arms, after pulling you back into them.

As your world slowly turns black, you can't help but smile.

He loves you.

_____

A strange sound wakes you, it's steady rhythm calling you back into consciousness. Bright light blinds you, as you try to open your eyes, making you groan in discomfort.

Something beside you shuffles, a chair being moved closer.

"Hey." you hear him say, before your vision slowly clears and his handsome features come into view. Sighing dreamily, you try to sit up and he helps you, moving the bed up so you can sit more comfortably.

He holds out a glass to you, moving it to your dry lips so you could take a few much needed sips.

"How are you feeling?" he wants to know, putting the glass back on the table beside him. "Like shit." you mumble, sighing again. He nods, biting his cheek. "But at least I'm alive, right?"

He huffs, elbows coming to rest on the bed. "They arrested the man, Damiano- I don't know what, and he's in custody right now." he tells you, hands wiping over his face.

You nod, relieved. "That's good." you say, sending Tim a small smile. He nods, barely registering. "He almost killed you." he mutters, frustration and anger clear as day on his face. "We barely managed to get here in time, to give you an antidote. And all just to teach the police a much needed lesson."

Carefully taking his hand, you give it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm alive." you remind him, and his gaze turns to you. "But-" "I'm. Alive."

He halts, swallowing, before he nods slightly.

It's silent for a moment, as you tug him closer. "Please tell me I didn't dream all of that." you tell him, trying to avert his attention. He huffs, a small smile gracing his lips. "No, you didn't." he assures you.

Your smile widens, tears burning in your eyes.

"Can you say it again?" you ask him quietly, sitting more upright. He chuckles, leaning more towards you. "I love you." he says, and you chuckle in glee. "Again."

He huffs playfully, scooting closer, so his face is inches from yours.

"I love you."

Pushing forward, your lips graze his. "I love you, too." you say, before he closes the small gap, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, a silent promise.

He'd never distance himself from you again.

Not now, not ever.

He simply couldn't.

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