#everything else I think is a matter of preference and taste pretty much

[jarofstyles]

Robins Egg - Indigo 8

…. Hi. It’s been 800 years but I realized I never posted this update! So here we are.

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WC- 4.8k

Warnings- slight angst, fluff, Mention of anxiety, H being slightly oblivious

Harry wasn’t real, Y/N thinks. She was a bit stumped.

While she had read a lot of romance novels, as a self proclaimed member of the book community, she hadn’t ever expected any of that to come true. Sure, it was nice to read, but men like that didn’t exist. The butterflies she got reading them had been more than enough, but she was finding that the more time she spent with Harry that she preferred real life over her story books.

It was just… odd. Not in a bad way, but the things he did had her doing a double take. Venmoing her for the cookie ingredients, paying for the pizza, texting her good morning and good night, checking in on her tattoo, even sending her a bunch of sunflowers when she had woken up in a shit mood and let him know. They were so early in it and she had become a bit nervous.

It felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop. The tension, the knowing it's too good to be true. It wasn’t like he was absolved of fault. He was a little possessive, he was a bit of a workaholic, he was hard on himself, he was a little pessimistic, a little cold, rigid but these were all things she could deal with. But there was just something making her nervous. It had never been this good for her and her cynical side was trying to come out, trying to rear its ugly head and leave a brown smear on this pretty new relationship tied up in a silky red ribbon with pristine white wrapping.

She had been so wrong about him, it was insane. He wasn’t any of the things she had assumed, at least not to her. He was still a bit of a snarly asshole but she was never at the receiving end of it. Their date had blown her mind, how he had been so down to earth with her, how he had kissed her so thoroughly and left with a swagger in his walk, how he left her wanting more. It was strange for her to yearn for someone so much, to want to be around a man more than she had experienced in the past. She feared becoming clingy as it progressed, addicted to the intoxicating kisses and the spice of his cologne, the roughness of the calluses on his hand and his deep voice talking in the cajoling whispers that he had given her a little taste of.

For all intents and purposes, Y/N was realizing she was fucked. Absolutely ruined.

H: Hey, I’m on my way. Do you need me to stop for anything else? Xxx

Y/N: No :) I’ve got everything! Just come on in when you’re here. It’s unlocked. Xxxx

From the beating going on in her chest, she knew she was in for a ride tonight.

After their night making cookies, they’d had a few more dates. All of which he had been a gentleman. They’d made out, he’d felt her up, but he didn’t push for more. It wasn’t something she was used to. All her past experiences had rushed the sexual bits of it and she sort of felt like she was doing something wrong even though she knew she wasn’t. Harry teased her, making her feel hot but backed off shortly after only to be soft and gentle with her. It was confusing and she craved more but it was difficult to know how to push. He’d told her that he wanted to take time with her, that he wanted to do this right because he liked her a lot, but how long was it going to take?

The main concern was that he be comfortable. That’s what mattered the most and she could see he got a little nervous sometimes, like when he’d placed his hands under her shirt and palmed her tits over her bra a few nights ago, only doing it for a short while and not pushing further than that. She’d been aching for it when he left. If this was some sort of edging, he was doing a great job of making her crave it.

Harry was incredibly attractive. This was common knowledge, and she’d go as far as to say it was fact. Her body reacted to him in a very strong way, but the slight rejections were starting to make her wonder if she was the one pushing too hard. It was hard to control herself with his hands on her. His large palms holding her waist and pulling her close so he could lick into his mouth, letting her hips rock a little on top of him- and he got hard! That’s something that stumped her. He was hard and she could feel it under her, so obviously he had to be at least attracted to her, but something was stopping him. Tonight, she needed to figure out what it was.

She heard the door open and the telltale clank of the keys attached to his jeans, making her smile as she continued to stir the pot of soup on the stove. She’d learned a recipe for broccoli cheddar soup when he said it was his favorite and managed to do two trial runs to make sure it was actually good. She’d cheated with the bread, getting store bought, but it had led her to find a new favorite wine.

Hands found her waist and chin rested on top of her as he looked down at the pot she was stirring, a little hum coming from his throat. “Should’ve known you were up t’something when you wouldn’t tell me what we were going to do for dinner.” He clicked his tongue, using a finger to turn her head so he could catch her lips. He was smiling as he pulled back, eyes light and happy as he looked back down at it. “You didn’t have t’do this all by yourself. I would have helped, or paid. But you’re too fucking sweet.” His hands went back to her waist to give her a squeeze before moving next to the stove to look at her. “Is there something I can do to help?

Y/N’s stomach was a mess of butterflies from his reaction, cheeks hurting from keeping her own smile contained enough that it didn’t look crazy. It did smell good in here and her trial runs ensured that her recipe wasn’t a fuck up. “You can get wine glasses out. I found a cool wine at Trader Joes and wanted to try it.” She hummed, tapping the spoon against the side of the pot to get off the excess before resting it in her sunflower spoon rest. For once, she was actually using it as it was intended and not just decor.

“Yeah? I’m excited to try.” He moved past her to get the wine glasses on the bar cart she had set up when she got a wild hair and wanted to do a DIY thing. She went the opposite way to get two bowls, placing them down before gathering the spoons. “How much did the ingredients cost?”

“None of your business.” She playfully snipped, ladling the soup into the bowls. “You’ve paid for enough. I can handle paying for some of our meals and stuff. You know I don’t expect you to cover everything, right?” Sometimes she had to wonder if Harry thought she expected this. Of course she fought him on paying every time but he was quicker to place his card or cash down every time. How? She didn’t know.

“Course I know that. But I like to.” He saddled up next to her, watching as she served their dinner. “I like to take care of you. I know you don’t expect that and you’re not runnin’ around trying to get money off of me. But even if you were, I think I’d give it to you.” He adjusted the strap of her apron, eyes on the side of her face. “I enjoy paying. I can’t describe exactly why, but it feels right. You give me your company, and it’s worth a lot more than dinner.” Harry felt pretty strongly about it, it seemed. Y/N had to wonder who instilled this in him. She knew it was old school, and he did sometimes do things by the book, but he was progressive with his views. It confused her a little.

Harry himself, though, was holding back. Of course he wanted to spoil Y/N. He liked her a lot more than was probably normal for only being together for a few weeks, and he didn’t want to scare her off. It was hard. He wanted to pay for her nails, wanted to make sure she had the things she wanted. It was hard to hold his true emotion back, but he feared the rejection. Coming on way too strong. He fell hard and fast, but Y/N was the hardest and fastest he’d even crashed. His crush had predated their relationship, making it even worse.

“Well.. Okay.” She sighed, turning to hand him his bowl. “If it actually makes you happy, I suppose I can let go. I just don’t want you to think I’m some sort of freeloader or, or a gold digger. I make my own money and I can take care of stuff for us too.” He followed her to the table, choosing to sit next to her instead of across.

“Never. You’ve never asked me for a thing. If you did, I’d probably say yes, but I know you’re none of those things. You’re the sweetest girl I know. Let me take care of you.” He rested his palm on her thigh to squeeze it lightly before spooning some of the soup into his mouth.

“Careful! It’s hot.” Y/N knew it was still steaming and worried for him, but he simply swallowed and gave her a smile.

“Been drinking hot coffee for ages. Doesn’t bother me. Plus, I’ve literally poked a hole through my tongue, so it’s safe. But thanks for looking out for me.” He laughed. “This is really fucking good, Y/N. Probably the best I’ve had.”

She knew he had to be exaggerating but the praise made her flush. A tiny, shy smile painted her lips as she watched him take another bite. A groan of satisfaction came from him, making her stomach flutter for a variety of reasons, but she needed to get her mind out of the gutter. “You think so?”

“Know so. You’re never gonna be able to get rid of me. Gonna have to be bribing you to make this for me again.” His knee knocked into hers. It was a slight joke- he would definitely ask her to make it again, but he would cover the ingredients. Maybe she could make it at his house? He loved the idea of her in his kitchen, in his living room. In his bed.

“Well, there’s plenty of leftovers.” She chirped, happiness coursing through her at his words. Succeeding at this goal made her extremely happy. Her boyfriend liked her soup! “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go to the bars with everyone tonight or if you wanted us to stay here. The choice is yours.” They’d been informed in the groupchat that there was a pub crawl tonight, but Y/N could feel his hesitation. They hadn’t been out with them together yet, and something was keeping him from wanting to go with her.

“Let’s stay here.” He sighed, stretching his arms over his head. “M’not in the mood to have to deal with drunken people spilling their pints on to me. Didn’t you say there was a documentary about a cult you wanted t’watch?” The way he brushed it off made sense, but she had to wonder why he didn’t want to go.

“I’m fine with that, but you used to love going out. I don’t want to stop you from doing that.” She approached it carefully, watching as his brows furrowed together.

“Not at all. T’be honest, I used to only go out when I knew you were going. Wanted to make sure you were okay, and… I dunno. I would always end up staring.” His cheeks pinkened a little, looking down at his bowl. And before her, it was going out to get laid. He didn’t need the bar for either of those things anymore. “So now I’ve got you, get to spend time with you. If you want to go, we can. I jus’ don’t want them poking at us.”

That was a worry of his.

“How do you mean?” This was something she’d been a little insecure about. Their friends didn’t really know she and Harry were together. Harry hadn’t mentioned telling anyone and she hadn’t wanted to say something too early. It was hard to navigate the relationship this early on. Harry was a private person but she also liked the idea of people knowing that they were together.

“Well.. They’re just a nosy lot, aren’t they? I’ve kind of kept this to myself, wanted to enjoy you before the group of them descend on us like vultures asking for information.” The distaste was clear on his face, making something in her tummy turn. “They’re gonna ask for the whole story, and apparently they all thought I didn’t like you so it’s gonna be a big deal. I’d like it to just stay between us for a while longer.”

“Oh. Okay.” She peeped, swallowing the lump in her throat.

She was being silly. Of course, she knew what he said made complete and utter sense. He was correct. It would be a big deal and they would demand to know what and how and when and it would be a lot, but something about it made her feel icky. Moving her soup around with her spoon, she stayed quiet as she tried to talk herself down. Harry had never done something purposely to hurt her feelings, but this had done so by accident. It wasn’t his fault- but part of her worried he was ashamed or something. She knew she didn’t exactly look like his normal type,or the type he apparently went for prior to her. She wasn’t covered in tattoos yet. Was it weird to be dating a girl that was sort of your opposite?

Meanwhile, Harry’s heart sunk to his ass. He could see, he could hear that it wasn’t okay. He’d hurt her feelings and he caught it on her face, and he felt a little queasy that he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly about that had made her upset. She looked a bit like a kicked puppy and he felt awful, the guilt crawling up his throat as he turned to her. “Hey… Y/N.” He urged. “Can you look at me, sweetheart? I think I just hurt your feelings and I didn’t mean to.” His hand settled on her shoulder, thumbing over it as he tried not to freak out. This was what he meant by putting his foot in his mouth. Sometimes he didn’t think things through, or maybe had some emotional incompetence.

“No, no… You just, I don’t know why it upset me.” She looked at him, seeing the genuine stress on his face. He had just turned anxious in a way she hadn’t seen him before. “I uh, I think I’m just being silly.” Even though her eyes burned a little bit, he obviously hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings.

“Your feelings aren’t silly.” He murmured. “What felt bad about what I said? I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to upset you.” His hand grabbed hers as she dropped her spoon. “Talk me through it. What part felt bad to you? M’sorry.” His apology came out again and Y/N felt guilty herself. She knew she was ultra sensitive and lots of things hurt her feelings that didn’t make sense, but she didn’t want him feeling that way about her! He’d just been talking.

“I uh… I think, somewhere in my brain… Part of me has been thinking you don’t want people to know we’re together because I’m like, y’know. Not your type.” She winced even as she said it, stumbling over her words. “Like, I’ve seen the girls that approach you and the ones you used to talk to.” One of his ex flings had come up to the table once but he had swiftly rejected her. “I’m nothing like them. I just get nervous that you’ll be like… embarrassed to be seen with me or something.”

Harry looked at her with a sad frown, shaking his head adamantly as she finished the sentence. So that’s what it was. She was comparing herself to other girls that seemed to fit his aesthetic more, which had been true before. He’d gone for girls that had lots of tattoos and wore darker makeup and different clothes than she had, sure. But she was his absolute favorite person. Couldn’t she see that?

“Darling… No. Absolutely not. M’the furthest thing from embarrassed.” He promised. “I want everyone to know. It’s nothing to do with that. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the privilege to call mine. I adore you, and sometimes I even have to stop myself because I feel like m’gonna come on too strong but… It isn’t that I don’t want them to know. It’s the part where they harass us for answers.” Harry wasn’t too good at the whole talking thing sometimes but he was doing his best for Y/N. He liked her far too much to let her worry like this. “I am a private man. I don’t want to share all the gritty details, no, but you know how they are when they’ve been drinking. They’re relentless and they’re gonna bother you about it. And I know that you can get overwhelmed and I just…I don’t want them to hound you while I just sit there next to you.” They’d know better than to go after Harry for answers, but Y/N had been so open with them in the past, they’d expect the same.

“I like you a lot more than you can probably tell. So much that I’ve had to pace myself. I don’t like the idea of being too much for you, or moving too fast. You deserve a proper dating experience with the lead ups, or whatever you want. You’re not just some hookup I want to divulge dirty details about. You mean something to me and I think… I think that’s part of why I like keeping it to us right now.” He swallowed, adjusting in his seat to get closer to her. “I don’t want them to intrude on us when we’re doing so well on our own. But if you want them to know, I’ll tell ‘em all.” Harry knew he’d try to find a way to lasso the moon if that's what the girl in front of him wanted.

Y/N felt exceptionally silly for thinking he was ashamed of her, but his explanation made her butterflies return. He really liked her like that? She sniffled, looking into his earnest eyes before nodding. “Okay. That makes a lot of sense.” Taking some initiative, she got up and sat herself on his lap to get a cuddle. They both seemed to need one. Harry had a damn near heart attack seeing her lips downturned. “We could do like…” She paused before shaking her head. “Nevermind, It’s silly.” Her face heated.

“No, it’s not. What is it?” He urged, trying to hear her out. The man had no idea what she was going to suggest but he doubted he would tell her no.

“People sometimes like, hint that they’re with someone. On social media. They post photos that are kinda like, unsure. So it isn’t as much of a shock when they do come out as a couple. Is that something that would make you feel a little better about it?” She knew they called it soft launching but it felt weird to call it that out loud.

They could ignore texts if they wanted to. It was obvious they weren’t going out tonight, but maybe people could put things together and they didn’t need to be harassed in person. Harry thought about it for a moment before nodding, still unsure as to how it would work. He was picky about his privacy, especially on socials, but he trusted Y/N. He didn’t mind later on if she posted him fully, but it would make sense to him to start it that way. “I don’t see why not. How do we do that, though?”

“Well, later when we’re watching something I can take a selfie and your arm can be in it or something. I dunno, it doesn’t have to be extremely obvious. Just enough that there's a hint. You move on from there.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, adjusting herself. “If you’re worried about them harassing me, which is very sweet by the way, it may be easier to just do something like that. Let them see we’re hanging out on our own and we can just ignore our phones and answer when we see fit. It may be less overwhelming for the both of us.” It made sense to her.

“Hm.” He hummed, thinking about it for a moment. “I think that could be alright, yeah.” Lips quirked up in a smile. “We can do that when we’re watching TV. Sounds like a plan?”

“Yes, absolutely.” She beamed. Thank god he hadn’t rejected her. She’d probably crawl into her own skin. “Did you want seconds before we do that, though?” His bowl was nearly empty and Y/N couldn’t help but be giddy about it. He’d really enjoyed her soup!

“Mm.. Yeah, I think so.”

—-----

To be fair, Y/N was sort of expecting it. When their TV time and ‘soft launch photo’ (consisting of Harry’s hand on her thigh- the one with the cross tattoo- and the bowl of popcorn in her lap) lulled, the tension had risen again. One thing was leading to another and his mouth was glued to hers, her body hauled up on top of him as he leaned back on the couch. His touches were eager, squeezing her hips and pulling her into him, the girl was gagging for it.

Harry had been holding back on her and she was dying for even the slightest nibble of intimacy with him. The way he kissed her was so thorough and hot, like he needed her mouth to breathe, and yet when he gently pulled away this time it made her whimper. Frustration rose in her belly and chest as she watched him wipe under her lips, the movement of her hips paused by his other hand. It always stopped here, and she had to wonder why it was.

“D-Do you not want to touch me?” She asked breathlessly as her hands fell from his shoulders back to her sides. It didn’t add up. He kissed her hungrily, touched her when they kissed like she was his anchor, he’d been suggestive in texts- but there was this lull that had always come up and halted their progression.

Harry’s eyes widened and he shook his head, sitting up slightly whilst keeping her in his lap. “What? Are you joking?” He whispered, confusion painted on his face. “It’s all I want to do. I can barely keep my hands off of you. What are you talking about?”

“E-Every time we get to this point you stop. I know we talked about taking it slow and I never want to push you further than what you want to do but we spoke about you wanting to do more to me a-and I’m just a little confused.” She peeped, looking down at his lap. She could visibly see he was hard, it was obvious. “I want to make you feel good, H. I really, really do.”

She hadn’t meant for it to be whiny. Really, she hadn’t, but she’d been thinking about having him down her throat and hearing him praise her for weeks now. He’d been patient and gentle and of course, she loved how tender he was with her but… “I’ve been a mess and I keep thinking about sucking you off and I would really like to. Can we do something more tonight?” She brushed her nose against his, a fleeting kiss being pressed to his slightly open mouth. “Please? If you’re comfortable, I promise I’ll be good and do whatever you want. I think- I think you’ll have to show me how you like it but if you want to hold off touching me, let me do it to you.. Please, H…” Her hand slid down and rested at the waistband of his jeans.

Harry was a bit shocked, really. He’d been taking his time with her because he really, really didn’t want to fuck this up by thinking with his dick, but he hadn’t realized it had been grating so much on her. Of course this was his fuck up, but he could only focus on the fact that she was nearly begging to have his cock in her mouth. “M’so sorry, baby. Was trying to take it slow. I want to touch you so much.” His voice was slightly hoarse as he replied. “Don’t ever think I’m not attracted to you.” Grabbing her hand, she let it sink further so it was over his cock. His breathing caught in his throat as she squeezed, giving him a needy look that was unfamiliar with him.

Who would have thought Y/N would be the one to make the first move?

“You feel that, Sweetheart? I get like this every time I’m around you.” Her hand was smaller than his, he noticed as he let go and let her do as she pleased. “I’m obsessed with you. Y’know that? I meant it in my text to you when we talked about this.” His nose brushed against hers. “I’m always thinking about how hot and wet I can get that pretty cunt. Do you think I don’t imagine you every single time I wrap my hand around my cock?” He clicked his tongue. “It’s always you. Always your gorgeous face I see when I cum. Imagine making you cum for me, how you’d feel. Don’t think for a minute that I don’t want you when you’re all I can bloody think about when I close my eyes.” It was intense, maybe, but true.

“You can do whatever you want. What’s my girl need, hm? Want my fingers? My tongue? We’re going to hold off on having you squeeze around my cock for now until we’ve got days to spare… M’not going to be able to do it just once. But It’s up to you pretty girl.” He would get on his knees for her if he was being honest. He’d never wanted to make her feel like he didn’t want her, and he knew he would be making up for it. His pretty girl, however, had a different thing in mind.

“I want to touch you. Please?” She whispered. “I meant it. I want you to touch me too but, I’ve been thinking about this for ages.” It was slightly embarrassing to admit but she felt that confidence going through her now, especially since he had expressed how much he wanted her too. “I’m okay with anything but you’ve been teasing me for so long…” Her fingernails dragged over the side of his neck and tangled slightly in his hair, making him hiss and his eyes roll back slightly at the accidental tug of his hair. His cock was thick in his pants and he knew he didn’t have it in him to deny her- not after all of this.

“Can’t say no to you, baby.” He panted, gently taking her hand and leading it to his belt. His eyes were dark as he took her lips again, groaning as her palm slipped down and squeezed over him. It was a welcomed feeling for the both of them, her lips parting against his own as she felt the hot bulge underneath the denim as it throbbed against her hand. Yes- this was exactly what she had wanted. “Go ahead. Whatever you want to do, m’yours.”

[bookwyrminspiration]

I found the artists Instagram and I love her art but my gosh what is with the cover

For anyone curious, here's a link to her IG! She is a very talented artist, though there is a big difference between doing a single piece you can put all the thought and detail you want into it, and illustrating a graphic novel.

Between being asked to use a different style than her typical one (as she said on her tumblr), and the simplifying necessary for a graphic novel (though not as much so for a cover), and probably much more, it definitely was not what many of us were expecting.

I don't think it's bad--although I will say I think the layout of Fitz's face is wrong for the angle, a technical critique--it's just very different from the example art we've seen of hers prior. Which makes sense, but is still something to get used to.

There's also what others have said about it not feeling like it embodies keeper, but I'll go into that in another ask about the cover :)

Anyway! I want to very clearly emphasize my support for the artist, she has a massive task in front of her and a fandom with high expectations. I don't think she's paying attention to us or what we say, but either way. Even if the cover isn't what we thought or expected (honestly I forgot it needed a cover), she clearly has skill and artistic knowledge I'm curious to see in the rest of the novel--which I think will be a better judge. Covers are all played up, but the book is the real meat of it and, I think, more important.

[pyrodolls]

hi i was wondering if you would do headcannons of the yan!fanboy if reader actually noticed him coming to all their shows and events

obsessed (superfan! yandere boy x gn!popstar reader)

warnings: stalking, average yandere tendencies, nsfw, perverted yandere, gender neutral reader, mentions of naked reader but no genitalia addressed, dom reader, reader is compliant with the yandere and teases him a ton, lowercase intended. btw i do not condone yanderes irl.

a/n: i hope y'all know i read every single one of your asks, comments, and reblogs. i appreciate them all and they do brighten my day. i'm just saying this so y'all know that the stuff you send to other writers (not just me) matters a lot!! when you interact it gives them inspiration!!! and motivation!! me personally sometimes i see ONE kind reblog and i immediately get my ass up and start writing something just because of that one person. don't get me wrong, i still love all my lurkers that silently like a ton of my stuff, y'all are important too. anyways i'll shut up now onto the hcs. (btw this ended up being a fic instead of hcs i apologize. i went crazy over this i'm sorry anon LMAO)

"hey, you look pretty familiar. have you been to a few shows before?" you asked kindly, facing the short man in the front row of the audience.

bayani froze as the stadium's screens pointed to him. he opened his mouth in an attempt to say something, but nothing came out. his face went red and his throat went dry. did you actually notice him, or was he just dreaming?

after a few seconds of waiting for an answer, you shrugged. "sorry, maybe i mistook you for someone else. anyways..."

the yandere boy still didn't move, with his mouth agape, as you continued on with your show. the people around bayani didn't seem to care, assuming that he was just a starstruck fan. but it was more than that. much more than that.

out of the millions of fans that attend your shows and events, you recognized him among them. you noticed him. and he didn't know how to handle it. what was he supposed to say? what would you even talk about? sure, he's seen all of your interviews and heard your music and dissected your lyrics for hours every single day, but would you ever want to interact with him as much as he wanted to interact with you? he was just a lowlife. he had an average job, average amount of money, he lived in a shitty apartment, and he had no friends or major accomplishments. all of his free time outside of work was spent on you. spent on following your every move and investigating everything you've put your hands on. if you ever spoke to him, you'd probably think he was some sort of pathetic stalker.

that thought drove him mad. he couldn't even focus on the rest of your concert. he didn't hear the blaring music and screams from the crowd. he wasn't paying attention to your performance, either.

he could only stand there and imagine the punishments you'd inflict on him if you found out about his obsession. would you call your security to take him away? he'd hope not. if he's going to be kicked and pushed around, perhaps even handcuffed, he'd rather you do the job rather than some random guard. but maybe he'd accept the punishment, only because you were the one who deemed it necessary. he takes your word like gospel, so he'll take whatever punishment you want, even though he would prefer your hands on him while you do it.

his imagination ran wild as your concert finished and you walked off the stage with your dancers. the crowd of fans in the stadium dispersed around him, moving along with their day. but bayani couldn't just move on with his day knowing that you know he exists now. how is he supposed to simply move on from that? he spent a long time making sure you never noticed him. even though he attended every single one of your concerts and events, he did not want to be noticed. he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. but it finally happened. he finally got a taste of what it's like to be seen by the love of his life. he couldn't just leave it at that. he had to do something about it.

being under your gaze, even if it was only a few seconds, made him feel like he went to heaven. it made all of the hundreds of dollars he spent on you worth it. all of the hours he spent listening to your music and watching videos of you was worth it. it was like he awoke from a slumber. a long, miserable slumber. he had to find a way to thank you. say something to you. he messed up when he simply froze after you saw him. who knows when he'll get another chance like that?

it took a few hours for the stadium to be empty, and the security started to shoo bayani away. but when he went outside, the parking lot was still full. your concert ended hours ago, but there was still loads of cars trying to leave. it would be frustrating, but bayani had to find a way out quickly.

he climbed on the back of a nearby truck and rested his legs there, waiting patiently for the vehicle to move out of the traffic. even though he knew the truck wouldn't go anywhere near your mansion, he knew how to get to your house on foot. he only needed to rest on the truck until the traffic was gone.

after a few hours on the road, he jumped out of the vehicle, and started to walk to your mansion on foot. he didn't need to look up the location online, because he already knew where it was. he visited your home many times in the past, he just never attempted to go inside before.

his veins were on fire and he started to sweat the closer he got. he was starting to have second thoughts about his idea. but there was no time to go back, because he already showed up to your house before he could change his plans.

to get inside, he had to climb up a tree, jump off of it, and land in your backyard. he used that trick often in the past, since it was not his first time going to your house. he often snuck on your property to watch or take pictures of you while you slept.

he tried opening your bedroom window, but it was locked. he had to try a different one.

he went over to a window beside your bedroom, and thankfully, it was unlocked. but the moment he opened the window, he heard the sound of water running and your familiar voice humming a song. were you in the shower?

bayani climbed inside as quietly as possible, and closed the window behind him. his suspicions were correct. he was in your bathroom, and you were taking a shower. your curtains covered up your figure, so he couldn't see you.

bayani looked to the side of the room and saw a pile of your dirty clothes on the floor. he ran up to it and immediately took a large whiff at the pile. it smelled divine to him. he couldn't get enough of it. he quickly spotted your used underwear in the pile and snatched it without thinking, then he stuffed it in his pocket. you wouldn't notice, right?

before he could take the rest of your clothes, the water suddenly stopped. bayani ran to hide, in a spot where you couldn't see him but he could see you. you opened the shower curtains and stepped out with a towel in your hands. you were completely naked, and still drenched in water. bayani felt like he died and went to heaven again that day. he couldn't believe what he was seeing. you were completely naked, right in front of his eyes. ignoring the puddle in his pants, he nervously fumbled around his pockets, trying to find his phone. there was no way he could pass up an opportunity like this. without hesitation, he snapped a photo of you.

but he didn't notice that the flash was on.

he froze, and you looked towards him. neither of you said a word, and bayani saw his future flash before his eyes. you would probably scream for security and he would get taken away to prison, never to see your face again. his life would be over.

"you're the guy i've been seeing everywhere, huh?" you whispered.

"...are you going to, uh... send me away?" bayani gulped.

you thought about it for a moment. this guy clearly cared a lot about you, because you saw him literally everywhere you went. no matter what country you visited, he was always there. even if you didn't tell a single soul where you were going, he was somehow always there. you even saw him on your property a few times, so you knew how crazy he was. but you still let him do it. and you never reported him, either. you knew exactly what he wanted. you could always hear him moaning outside your window, knowing he would have one hand down his pants and a camera on the other.

he was cute, so why not have some fun with him?

"come here." you commanded. he followed your order without thinking, immediately falling down to his knees in front of you.

you grabbed his chin, and made him look up at you. he felt hot tears well up in his eyes as you stared him down. he didn't say a word, but you knew exactly what he was thinking.

you pressed your knee against the wet stain on his pants, and he let out a pathetic whimper. he was getting off on it.

he didn't know what to do. his dreams were finally coming true. he got noticed by you, got into your house, saw you naked, and you finally touched him. he was overwhelmed, and started crying. he didn't mean to look so weak in front of you for a first impression, but he couldn't help it. besides, he'd make a fool out of himself any day for you.

"you're so pathetic.. you've been stalking me for so long, and now you break into my house to see me naked. i could call the police and have you arrested..." you whispered, as you started putting more pressure on his crotch, moving your knee up and down on it, and inching your face closer to his.

he sobbed, “please, don't! i promise, it'll never happen again. i'll stop, i'll do whatever you want, i'll-"

you cut him off by connecting your lips to his, setting his heart on fire. you pulled away after a few seconds, leaving him speechless. there's no way you just kissed him. he had to be dreaming.

and then you moved your knee away from his crotch right before he could cum, making him let out a whimper and crumble to the ground.

"thanks for letting me have some fun with you. we can do this again soon.. if you be a good boy and return my underwear." you winked, walking away and leaving bayani a hard, pathetic, leaking mess on your bathroom floor.

[juuuulez]

📰 | brat taming, richie jerimovich.

(pure filth guys…blowjob, facefucking, lowkey degrading anndduhhhh then some more sex…)

(also i’m crazy i just wrote another whole richie fic so expect that tomorrow i’m insane.)

“i can’t take it.”

“you can, and you fuckin’ will, princess.”

the punishment for being a brat has always been the same, so really, you should’ve expected this.. but at the time, it seemed like a good idea.

it was richie’s day off, and you had this whole mental plan about staying in bed, getting to enjoy your boyfriend and keep him all to yourself. but apparently the beef was short staffed, and he’d decided to go in anyway, despite mikey’s insistence that it was fine. in truth, it probably wasn’t fine, but that didn’t matter: today was your day.

so you’d stopped by on his lunch break. except richie skipped the break in favour of a cigarette and getting back into the muck. now, you had his best interest at heart, you swear! all you wanted was for him to take a moment. or maybe that’s the excuse you told yourself.

“don’t be a baby ‘bout it.” richie grunts through a clenched jaw, one hand with a firm grip on your cheek, and the other at the base of your skull. “you asked for this, sweetheart. now you’re gonna fuckin’ take it.”

your jaw is opened impossibly wide, his cock buried to the hilt, struggling to breathe through your nose. his grip is unforgiving and doesn’t let you move, willing down the urge to gag around his length as air forgoes you as he rocks his hips deeper. tears have sprung in your eyes, messily slipping down red cheeks and making wet tracks on your neck.

it was the tiny skirt that did it. when you’d sauntered into the kitchen, trying to find richie. it barely covered the globes of your ass, the ends of little spandex shorts peaking out: he would’ve preferred you completely naked, because fuck, those shorts really did it for him, the way they hid absolutely nothing.

and you’d done it on purpose. made sure to linger in the office doorway for an extra moment, having some offhanded conversation with mikey that didn’t even fucking matter, because what were you doing? then you’d offered to help out with the rush, going out front to buss some tables, undoubtably attracting the attention of anyone else in the restaurant.

your hands fist at the fabric of richie’s sweats, the garment pushed down just enough to release his cock. his work shirts still on, as the pair of you had landed on the couch, where you were promptly shoved to your knees. he revels in how small your hands look on his spread thighs, rocking once, twice more into your hot mouth, feeling ten times more aroused simply by the power he holds over you.

and you know when he’s about to cum, of course you do, and it has you trying to pull off. you had been hoping he’d still fuck you, as part of the punishment, spilling his load deep inside where you’d still be able to get an inkling of satisfaction.

“nu-uh,” he chastises, voice rough and breathy, “stay right where ’ya fuckin’ are.”

so, you do. and when you pull off, your tongue is sticky with it, a salty taste that clings to the back of your throat. richie’s hand squeezed your jaw, putting pressure on the hinge that forces your mouth open, admiring his work. “swallow.” he’ll tell you, to which you do, sickeningly obedient for someone with a habit of causing trouble.

he won’t fuck you, either. you’ll try to beg for it, pulling out all the stops, batting your wet lashes and kissing at his neck. it takes everything in him to deny you, but he does, successfully.

it’s not until later, curled up in bed, that you finally huff out somewhat of an explanation. “just miss you.” you’ll mumble, face pressed into his fresh shirt, the cotton tickling your nose. “think you work too much.”

it’s not like richie is oblivious, he caught on pretty quickly, but thought it’d be easier to make you work for it. so he relents, previously rough hands now soft as they skim your back, blunt nails gently tracing the curve of your spine.

“could’a used your words,” he’ll shoot back, and despite the scolding tone, he’s already rolled atop you to kiss down your neck. “or do you just get off on bein’ a brat?”

the crude remark makes you roll your eyes, one arm hooking around his broad shoulders, while your other hand rests on his head where it’s tucked into your neck. a sharp bite to your shoulder finally elicits a response, “maybe a little,” you mumble.

it’s okay, because richie still fucks you into the mattress that night. its a bit softer, at least to the best of his abilities: richie isn’t exactly one for slow or gentle, so it ends up being equally as unforgiving as the punishment itself, with the reprieve of his words turning praising and sweet. telling you how good you feel, how much he loves this pussy, so perfect for him. just him.

and he’s right: it’s just for him.

[miasmaghoul]

whos the best ghoul cook? do you think they have any weird eating quirks (like water ghouls eating raw fish, mountain chewin on his terra cotta plant pots, fire ghouls needing to eat more bc of higher body temp, anything like that)?

Did I ever tell you guys that I earned a scholarship to culinary school? I couldn't go, but cooking and baking remain passions of mine that I do NOT get to talk about enough.

But now you've given me an excuse >:)

So here, a BUNCH of my cooking (and favorite food) headcanons for the ghouls and Papas alike!

(There's some murder ghoul content here, mostly in Alpha's section - couldn't help myself 😌)

Aeon isn't one for cooking. Loves eating food, certainly, but not making it. He's more of a snacker, partly because it's more convenient but mostly because he doesn't have the attention span to do much more than microwave instant noodles. He's not picky though, will eat whatever is put in front of him as long as someone else has prepared it. Also doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, more of a salty/savory guy. Favorite foods include hot cheetos, thick cut beef jerky (good to gnaw), and whatever appears on his plate at meal times.

Aether is a ghoul of simple tastes. He'll cook when he has the time, but it's going to be one of his four go-to recipes every time. Always some format of protein + starch + veg, with a complementary sauce. He meal preps every weekend after his retirement so he can have easy meals to microwave and eat in the infirmary. Isn't the biggest fan of cooking with company, unless they're willing to stay out of the kitchen and not interrupt his routine. Has a weak spot for bananas. Favorite meal is one-pan roasted chicken, potatoes and asparagus with rosemary and garlic from Mountain’s garden.

Alpha does not cook, wouldn't dream of it. He doesn't even deign to eat human food most of the time, turns his nose up at it when offered. He likes his meat raw, and wants to hunt it himself so he can feel the blood run down his chin. Any prey is fair game - if he finds you in the woods, you'd better hope you can outrun him. (You cannot.) Favorite foods include the flesh and organs of anything with a pulse.

Aurora likes the idea of cooking, but in practice...well, she tries. She's impatient, is the problem - what do you mean simmer for 20 minutes? She's hungry now! She inevitably rushes everything she makes, no matter how much input she gets from the others, and has yet to learn her lesson. She also has a MASSIVE sweet tooth, they can't keep enough sugary snacks in the pantry as far as she's concerned. Favorite foods include spaghetti with butter and cheese (one of the only things she can always get right), boxed brownies and any kind of fruity candy she can get her paws on.

Cirrus can cook pretty well, if she says so herself, but it's rare that she does it for anyone but herself. She has very particular tastes, and doesn't want to have to adapt them for others. She loves organ meat and bitter vegetables, enjoys the intensity of those flavors while the smell alone keeps most of the others away. Oh well, more for her! She'll eat anything thats made for her though, especially if its served on a silver platter by someone on their knees. Favorite foods (aside from the aforementioned organs) mostly include healthy things like fresh fruit and veggies, steamed shellfish and lean meat.

Cumulus is more of a baker than a cook, but enjoys any time spent in the kitchen either way. She's the type to make a day of it, in her comfiest clothes with music playing while she dances in front of the stove. Her food is never the prettiest, but it's made with love and tastes so much better for it. Her favorite things to bake are cookies and pies, but she doesn't eat many sweets herself. Prefers seeing the others enjoy them. Favorite foods include homemade bread (she has a sourdough starter named Breadly) with lots of butter and flaky salt, anything citrus-forward and wants her proteins heavily spiced (not spicy, she has a low tolerance, but loves the fragrant flavors of herbs and spices).

Dewdrop doesn't advertise it, but he's one of the best ghouls to have in the kitchen. His precision and attention to detail are second to none, and while it doesn't make him particularly fun to share a kitchen with it does make him an outstanding cook. He likes very intricate, involved recipes because he can use them to showcase his skills (and earn a whole bunch of praise at the dining table as a bonus). Loves spicy food, which everyone assumes is due to him now being a fire ghoul, but he's actually always enjoyed a good burn. Favorite foods include any meat served on the bone, fermented foods (kimchi and sour pickles especially) and anything smoked.

Ifrit does not know how the stove works. He survives on protein bars and any leftovers he can pilfer from the abbey kitchens. Food is not a thing he's super interested in, just takes what he needs to fuel himself, and would rather follow in Alpha's footsteps anyway. He likes to hang out at the lake every now and then with Mist, though - she'll pop up from the water every now and then with a nice plump trout to toss his way, which he will roast with his bare hands. Doesn't really have a favorite food, but does like crunchy things.

Mist, if she isn't sharing her spoils with Ifrit, will keep her catch for herself. She's small enough that one good-sized lake fish will tide her over for the day. She does prefer them raw and whole, always a bit on the feral side, but she can be convinced to join the others for sushi if the offer arises. Favorite foods include anything alive and not poisonous in the lake, and cookie dough ice cream (don't tell anyone).

Mountain is overall considered to be the best cook amongst the ghouls, and definitely has the goofy apron to prove it. Naturally skilled and adaptable, he enjoys preparing meals for his pack and will do so with anyone that wishes to lend a hand. Usually it's Cumulus or Sunshine, but they all keep him company at one point or another. He grows much of the produce used in their kitchen himself, all of it fresh and delicious, but Mountain does not eat a bite of it. He's a total carnivore - the closest he gets to eating his homegrown goodies is including them in a stew but avoiding them in his own bowl. Favorite foods include rabbit, venison and this one Vietnamese style grilled beef and rice noodle dish that Dew makes.

Omega learned to cook by osmosis, if you ask him. Time spent under three Papas will do thay to a ghoul. He doesn't cook much, but he's excellent at crafting simple, filling pasta dishes that are good for the soul (so to speak). Also treats it as an excuse to drink plenty of the good wine stashed away in the abbey's cellars - blame Terzo for that habit. Favorite meal is fresh pappardelle served with roasted tomatoes, basil and spicy sausage.

Rain doesn't cook if it involves more than the microwave, not because he can't but because he prefers to be waited on. Breakfast in bed, charcuterie plates in the afternoon, specially prepared dinners to make sure he's kept happy - none of it is necessary, but Rain can't help how much he loves being served. Good thing no one minds giving him the royal treatment. He will also indulge in the odd raw fish during a swim, but only does it beneath the surface, away from prying eyes. Favorite good is soup, any kind, but he prefers brothy ones over thick or creamy styles. If he had to pick a single favorite varitey, it would be miso.

Swiss is only allowed in the kitchen because he's good with a knife. He can burn through prep work like nobody's business, but that's where his skill set ends. He's caused one too many greasefires to he trusted at the stove, and every time he's put something in the oven he's forgotten about it until smoke filled the room and the ghoulettes had to magickally air it out. But he can chop like a food processor, so he gets the knife pass. He's another one that'll eat anything put in front of him, with one exception: eggs. Can't stand them. Favorite foods include red meat served rare, really dark, bitter chocolate and anything with hideous amounts of garlic.

Sunshine is chaos personified in the kitchen. She loves to experiment with flavors and techniques, but has yet to have anything close to a success. Pasta with pesto and pineapple (alliteration is fun), chocolate covered avocado balls (with bacon, because why not), a tuna sandwich made with coconut yogurt instead of mayo (it's healthy!) - these are but a few of the food crimes that have lost her solo access to the kitchens. This girl could burn cereal, and no one wants to see that. She does love to eat though, and will frequently hang out when someone else is cooking so she can sneak bites whatever they're making. Favorite foods include cheese (all kinds), sour candy and all the orchard fresh peaches she can get her hands on.

And for the Papas:

Primo had to learn his way around the kitchen from an early age, thanks to the responsibility of raising his younger brothers falling onto his shoulders. He learned by watching the kitchen staff - a pair of elderly Sisters with so much skill in their gnarled hands that Primo couldn't look away. He never got very good at it, mostly sticking to a handful of reliable dishes that could be made cheap and easily for the three of them. His favorite of the bunch was also the one thing he was best at making - a simple mushroom risotto.

Secondo took to the kitchen like it was second nature, once Primo could trust him to not chop a finger off. Would spend hours poring over cookbooks and learning by doing, eating his own failures so his brothers wouldn't have to. He really enjoyed making simple but hearty comfort foods, lots of rib-sticking braises and stews filled with herbs and veggies from Primo's modest garden. He even cooked the last meal they ever shared together, on that fateful Uno night. It was his favorite, a lasagna constructed from fresh sheets of pasta, homemade ricotta, spinach and a simple tomato sauce, served with roasted garlic focaccia.

Terzo did not get the cooking gene, aside from being able to boil water for his tea. It wasn't a big deal since his brothers picked up the slack, and he decided there were other things that took priority - like music, history and how to retain a full head of hair after age 30. He preferred drinking over eating anyway, mostly saw food as something to put in his stomach to cushion the wine. He was a man of simple tastes, and his favorite thing was a humble sandwich of mortadella, provolone and spicy pickled peppers.

Copia never had to learn to cook, raised by the Clergy and doted on thanks to a not-so-subtle suggestion from Sister Imperator. More than a little spoiled in that sense, he would also go on to be the most worldly Papa in terms of his tastes. So much time spent traveling the world helped to expand his palate, and he got into the habit of sending pictures and descriptions of his favorites back to the abbey so the kitchen staff could figure out how to replicate them. It's impossible for him to pick a favorite, but thanks to so much time spent in LA he does have a real soft spot for Mexican food. Tacos al pastor in particular, but without the cilantro (he has the soap gene).

[flippinpancakes64]

Hi, can I request the Cullens with a reader who likes to party and goes to raves. Like the reader likes to have a good time but still has their stuff together.

The Cullens with a reader who likes to party

Uhm this will be another call-out post because I have never been to a party or a rave. I mean, I write fanfic on tumblr for fun so. Anyway just saying that this might be inaccurate so just be prepared for that

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He's not really a partying type of person

He prefers to brood and stew in misery

He's just that kinda guy

But he will accompany you if you ask him

Personally, he doesn't mind what you do for fun

If you enjoy it and you're not in any immediate danger, then he's all for it

I could see him being a bit put off by your rave outfits though

He's... traditional

He would ask you a couple of times to cover up a bit, but if you say no... then he will keep asking

He's really not comfortable with you wearing next to nothing to go party in a group of strangers

Those are the instances where he might come with you

No matter who you are, you could literally be a 7 foot body builder and he still wouldn't trust the crowds

But overall he just doesn't really care

You're responsible, your partying isn't hindering you any, and you still hang out with him so all's well

Alice:

She is the definition of a party person

She wants to go with you

And yes she would love a rave

It challenges her to make different types of outfits that she never has before

And she loves dancing so

It's just an added bonus that you are also really on top of things

She greatly admires that you can be gone all night partying and then come back the next morning and still get to school on time

Occasionally, though, she will ask you to take a break

Even though you can stay up partying until 4 am and still get to school by 7 doesn't mean that you should

She goes with you to everything and tries to get you to leave earlier so that you can actually sleep

But that only happens like once a week

Every other day she is right there dancing next to you

Jasper:

Opposites attract I guess?

To him, being in a club or at a rave actually sounds like a new torture method developed just for him

He truly does not understand the appeal

Like what do you mean you want to be in a room filled with sweaty, drunk people listening to music that is so loud it'll make you go deaf by 30?

He will not go with you sorry

If you beg him enough he might go to a club

But he will stand in the corner looking like he's about to vomit

Being around crowds is already a challenge for him

But this is too much

But otherwise he doesn't care what you do

It's your life, this is what you find fun, he doesn't mind

Occasionally though he will ask you to stay home for a night just because he misses you

Please hang out with him :(

Rosalie:

I don't think she's ever been to a rave before

But she loves it

She loves the outfits, all of the attention that she's getting from guys (she does NOT reciprocate guys don't worry), and the atmosphere

The music is a bit loud for her taste, but she gets over that

But she doesn't join you every time, just occasionally

She's a bit concerned at first though

She's worried that you aren't focusing enough on school, your job, or anything else

But after a few weeks and she sees that you do actually have a pretty good balance, she drops it

She makes you stay home at least 2 nights a week though

You need sleep

Emmett:

Party animal

I have no clue if he has ever actually been in a frat, but I would be shocked if he wasn't

He loves to dance and be crazy

So he joins you almost every time you go out

He only stays back if you ask him to or if he has something else to do

Like Edward, he never lets you go to a rave alone

He just doesn't trust all of those strangers not to pull something while you're wearing your exposing outfits

Unlike Edward, though, he won't tell you to change

He doesn't tell his partner what to wear cause he can fight

He does not care about your academics

You could literally flunk out of school he wouldn't care sorry

The only thing he would care about is that you are taking care of yourself

Esme:

She is not a party person

I talked about it forever ago in one of my other posts, but it's just not her scene

She will not go with you sorry

Even if you beg

And she is a bit skeptical of your outfits

She's very concerned about strangers

And yes she does ask you to cover up a little more

But it is entirely because she's worried for you

And she is definitely worried about your life

She doesn't want you to be missing sleep or neglecting your work

She will need a bit of reassurance

And by a bit I mean like a couple weeks

And you'll need to compromise with her a bit by staying home a couple of nights or making sure you're home by a certain time

She's just worried about you

Carlisle:

He's not a partying person either but he does understand the appeal

A place where you can go just to have fun and let loose he understands

He'll join you a couple of times and he won't complain, but it's pretty obvious it's not his thing

He does not care what you wear btw

It's your life and he's not your dad so who is he to tell you what to do

He trusts you to be safe and you know that you can call him at any time if you need him

The doctor in him doesn't let you stay out forever though

Again, he needs you to stay home and relax at least 3 times a week

And you need to eat a good meal every time before you leave

But he can tell that your grades are still good, you seem to still be in good health, and most of all you're happy so

Overall he's chill

Vampire! Bella:

Take her with you please

She loves it

She was never really a party person when she was alive but now she's immortal and she's ready to have some fun

She loves raves

And she loves the club

She does still have two left feet though

Like she cannot dance

So she just sort of sways side to side

And also she will not be wearing a rave outfit

She could care less what you wear, though

She also doesn't care if you're responsible or not

Your grades are slipping? Okay is she supposed to care?

You're really tired? Stay home and go to bed. Or just go out again, who's she to stop you?

[amagellaniccloud]

Ghost NSFW alphabet

Here's a Self-indulgent thing I wrote 'cause this man has me in a chokehold I wish he actually had me in one

Also, I tried my best to make this as GN as possible, if I made a mistake, pls let me know.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

This post contains sexually explicit content. If you are a Minor please respect this rule and scroll past and DO NOT ENGAGE WITH NSFW POSTS. NSFW under the cut

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) I feel like he would fall asleep pretty quickly after sex. I hc that he has some form of Insomnia so I think after he's done with everything, he would bring his s/o water or anything else they wanted but would prefer to fall asleep before cleanup.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) For his own body part: His hands + arms. I think he likes how they make him visibly look strong and intimidating, scaring people off which he'd love and his hands for a similar reason. Plus his hands can also be………… utilized in great ways As for his partner: Probably their waist. I think he's the kind of guy to have a hand around their partner's waist 24/7. Doesn't matter which size, he would just love to hold his s/o close to him in every situation and its also a nice way to show affection

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Amount; probably a lot. I think it depends on where he's coming though, like on your belly; a pretty good amount but inside? probably will empty enough baby maker for the next ten generations as for consistency; I think it is a little thicker than watery but pretty in the middle and Taste (my fav part); a bit sweet but with a salty aftertaste, I think (I just think the taste is so hot idk why)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Brat taming. Not him doing the taming but the one being tamed if you catch my drift. wink wink.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Most likely as experienced as a teenager, so barely. He didn't have enough time after his teen years and didn't really make any real effort to go out and meet someone

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Mating Press: His partner's legs in the air while absolutely annihilating their hole and they become a moaning mess under him would turn him on immensely Back-shots possibly???? anyone with me on this?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.) He's extremely serious. He might unintentionally do something but for the most part, very serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Pretty well groomed. He takes good care of his hair, not that there's much. He's blond I'm pretty sure and also white, yeah I don't think he has much hair. BUT, I think he has pubic hair that he keeps trimmed whenever he has the time. Otherwise I think he's pretty hairless in terms of body hair, I'd say he's almost hairless

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Very intimate, he sees sex as an intimate act with his partner. That being said tho, he will like it rough if he's in the right mood for it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) I don't think he masturbates when he can be with his s/o. Like if you are in the army with him and are on deployment at the same time then he wouldn't jack off really. But, if his s/o aren't with him on deployment or even the military, then he would jack off when in the mood.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Size kink Breeding kink some light bondage maybe maybe begging to and I also think he'd be into sub/dom dynamics (dk if that's a kink tho)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Probably in the comfort of his own bedroom. He prefers the darkness and familiarity of it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Any form of intimacy would get him hot and bothered. The man seems very touch starved to me, so if his s/o for examples puts their hand on his inner thigh etc he would get a boner pretty quickly

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Something that would cause any pain to him or his s/o in any capacity. He deals with enough pain and suffering in his job, rather not have it in his love life

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Probably more of a receiver, idk maybe it's his mask but I cannot Imagine him giving most of the time. He'd do it if you'd beg ask tho

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Think snice slow and sensual in the beginning but towards the middle and end, would probably become rougher and would quicken his pace

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Prefers to have sex but, if there isn't time for that, why not?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Not much of a risk taker, again, he deals with a lot of that at work and would rather not bring it into his sex life.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) I think three, maybe four on some days. He's got good stamina but isn't y'know… Hercules

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Doesn't own toys himself but is open to trying some with his partner

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) I think he'd tease a fair bit, but not too much. Think will enjoy it more if his s/o is easily frustrated and begs for him to do something or stop the teasing

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Pretty quiet. Will let out a lot of groans and a few moans here and there

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) I think he'd like to get his ass eaten more than getting a blowjob. Like his s/o's wet tongue rimming him while stretching his hole and muscly ass while his bent over a couch will drive him crazy

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Think a nice 7 in are hiding in those pants. He's British so maybe uncut? and also pretty thick

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) I think he doesn't have that high of a sex drive bet when he does wanna have sex? He will be a beast in every way

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) I hc that he as some form of Insomnia and sex while relax him, so he'll fall asleep pretty quickly. Especially if he has his partner in his arms

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Hi again, I've got a week 'till college starts and Monsoons are happening which is making me horny. Idk why but rain makes me so horny. ANYWAYS. How was your day, mine was fucking tiring. Also, has anyone reading this ever played the game Rain World? That is literally THE most PERFECT game I've played. It's incredible. If you like open-world games, then definitely check it out anyway, I hope you enjoyed this... have a lovely day, and may you see Ghost from CoD in your dreams (Ik I want to)

[faith2wood]

hey! i just finished beholden. i wanted to ask what got you writing, what had you stop for a decade, and what got you back in?

Ahhhh! Asking me why I write? You wanted word vomit? You're getting word vomit.

(There's a little spoiler for Beholden under the cut.)

What got me writing?

RAGE. 

No, really.

I was a lurker/reader in the Buffy fandom at the time, and I'd only occasionally read HP fics — 95% gen!fic, 4% low rated canon romance, 1% Sirius/OC smut, because the rest of my faves were kids, and I wasn't interested in anything else. 

And then after DH, with Draco getting pushed to the brink of redemption, but not crossing the line, and with Harry's view of him changing — always so sorry, so sad for him, always noting how scared he seemed, even switching to calling him 'Draco' — I was left with such a need to read that pairing. I wanted Draco to cross that line, and I wanted that soft understanding Harry had found for him to get explored. 

So, I tried reading Harry/Draco fics. And OH MAN. 

I was no stranger to character-bashing and unusual interpretations of canon — Buffy fandom was pretty damn crazy — but I knew my way around that place. With Harry/Draco, I stepped into the WILD. Fic after fic, all I could find was everything I loved and everything Harry loved in canon torn apart to pieces. His friends, his girlfriend, his House, his beliefs, his humor, the things that he wanted, the things that he fought for, the things that he was willing to die for, his character growth in DH, the confident brave man he became after Dobby's death, all of it dismissed, usually in a handful of exposition paragraphs. Endless apologies for the pure-blood supremacists. Draco 'redeeming' himself by quoting lines written by his fans on discussion boards, and therefore showing me he's not regretful, just full of excuses. Or he's not even redeemed, just cool and rich and suave (lol) and so much wittier than that bumbling, irrationally angry Harry Potter that felt plucked straight from OotP with all his teen angst painfully exaggerated. And then in those fics Harry just goes with it because he thinks Draco is hot. 

I could go on. I won't. 

So, I had that petulant moment where I thought, "Fine. I'll do it myself. How hard can it be?" 

Well, pretty damn hard, apparently. It's hard to create convincing drama. It's hard to get the characters in the right frame of mind so your plot could work. It's very hard to write smart and witty characters. It's hard to convincingly redeem someone. It's hard to juggle a cast of side-characters. It's hard to spell the word nesscscseary. It's especially hard to take that perfect, plausible, well-thought out story in your head and write it down without losing at least half of what makes it good. It's also hard to find time to write and write well. And of course your personal opinions on canon and fanon can seep through no matter how hard you try not to preach, and it can totally ruin a story.

That realization tempered my rage. It didn't mean I was willing to read the things I don't like, of course; I always liberally use that back button. But I did eventually find fics that I love and reccers I can trust, and learned to forgive when authors cut some corners.

Oh, but the taste of POWER writing gave me. The fact that I can just write the things I want to read. Cater to my own preferences. Simply not include the things I don't like. I want it, it's there; I don't want it, it's not.

So that's why I started writing. So I could read exactly what I wanted to read. Stories perfectly tailored for me. Honestly, I'm my biggest fan. I'm my own writing bitch. It doesn't even matter if I fail to do a good job while writing down the little movie that played out in my head, because I know my own intentions. I thought it all through. What I've written might not make sense to a reader sometimes, but it always makes sense to me. And I can always forgive myself if I feel like I failed. I find it very, very easy to forgive myself. Others, not so much, especially if I start to suspect they don't love Harry enough.

What made me stop writing?

I didn't stop writing. I stopped posting. I stopped interacting with fandom. I felt like I had my fill. I'm happy to recycle plots and read and write similar things over and over again, because I want what I want, and I won't apologize for it, but apparently I've reached a limit after all and felt like I have nothing new to offer.

I kept writing stuff. Fanfic for other fandoms, original stuff, even HP fics. Most of it unfinished and unedited and unpresentable, but enough to satisfy my occasional cravings for specific things. Which, as I said, is the whole point of my writing.

So I'll rephrase your next question: What got me to finally finish a Harry/Draco fic and post it? 

THE CURSED CHILD. lol I haven't seen it. Or read it. I haven't even read the synopsis. Next gen, eh, I was never interested. But I caught some spoilers about it on tumblr and reddit — about Draco's wife being ill and dying. That's some incredible stuff. Draco being so loving and dedicated, standing up to his parents, so heartbroken when the person he loved died but still being a wonderful father to his son. It's like I discovered a whole new Draco to think about. It got me all inspired. It's everything I ever wanted for him, except of course his wife dying. So he got to save his seemingly terminally ill lover in Beholden, and got the chance to be a loving, tender husband I wouldn't dare to even imagine after finishing the books, as it would feel too OOC to soften him up to that degree.

It likely wasn't visible, but in my mind, Beholden is kind of a Cursed Child fix!it fic — for that tiny part of the story. I needed it so desperately, I actually finished and posted it.

I have a few more asks in my tumblr inbox, and I'll very happily answer them, but it might take some time.

[sammylvsfairys]

too sweet.

maybe you really are too sweet for him.

pairing: aaron hotch x fem!reader, boss!aaron x secretary!reader.

genre: fluff, co-workers to ???

warnings: inspired by too sweet — hozier, english is not my first language !!

a/n: should i do a part two?? idk....

requests are currently open!

y/n was everything aaron wished to have. her voice was sweet, with an almost instinctive affection, treating everyone with a tenderness like she was their new nanny.

y/n always had a smile when talking to someone; sometimes aaron thought how lucky y/n was not to see the horrors he saw.

aaron, in one way or another, always ended up with the same thought: he did this job so she could go to sleep without knowing what was outside her window at night.

five knocks on the door that sounded like a melody; aaron instantly knew who was behind it. even before giving permission, y/n had already entered.

"brought your coffee," the smile on her face was so angelic that it somehow turned aaron's stomach.

on the tray was a coffee cup along with eight sugar packets, the same amount of sugar y/n put in her own coffee.

aaron had almost unintentionally memorized how she took her coffee. eight sugar packets plus cream, so her mouth wouldn't taste the bitterness of the caffeine.

a smirk formed on his face as he watched y/n leave the tray on his table. it disappeared as aaron realized its presence.

aaron took one sugar packet and placed it in his drink; it was a shame the other seven would end up in the trash.

"lot of paperwork?" she asked, trying her best to engage in small talk.

"uh... yeah, something like that," aaron said, automatically punishing himself for his response. he couldn't believe how easily he forgot how to talk when he was around her.

y/n chuckled foolishly.

"i could help, you know? it's kind of my job," she said. "plus, then you could get home to jack earlier."

aaron couldn't help but blush; the fact that the first thought that crossed his mind was «y/n thinks about me» truly revealed his priorities.

aaron coughed, disguising his embarrassment. "i don't see it necessary."

y/n laughed. "you never see anything as necessary."

«not with you» he thought, «not when it's you. i never see anything else as necessary with you by my side.»

"you don't need to see... these kinds of things," aaron tried to say.

y/n just scoffed, "come on, i work at the fbi; i've seen worse things even if i didn't want to."

y/n carelessly took the folder from aaron's hands, not caring much about how the men in front of her was her boss.

aaron knew deep down y/n knew she was different; she wasn't dumb. she could see the change in attitude with others versus with her. and somehow, that was what scared him the most; that someone could see him, that y/n of all people could see him.

"the unsub used a bottle of whiskey to kill a woman?" y/n said disgusted.

"i told you it wasn't pretty."

y/n shook her head. "that's not what surprises me; what surprises me is why whiskey? that's the worst drink ever created."

aaron tried to suppress his laughter.

"weird way to view a brutal murder."

"what? don't you agree with me?" y/n asked disappointed. "whiskey is the worst drink."

"it's actually my favorite drink."

"you're sick," y/n said with enough disappointment in her voice. "first black coffee and now whiskey?"

aaron tried not to laugh.

"what's your favorite drink?" he asked.

"tea? i don't know," she said unsurely.

"i meant alcoholic."

"i don't drink alcohol."

aaron tried to feign surprise, but there was none in his system; it was expected of y/n.

"and you shouldn't either, honestly, alcohol makes you dumb," she said matter-of-factly.

aaron allowed himself to smile. "i prefer my whiskey and black coffee."

y/n smiled. "didn't expect you to change, honestly, maybe i'm too sweet."

"or maybe you're not too sweet, but you're just sweet enough for me."

y/n scoffed with a blush on her cheeks.

"maybe..."

[karlachismylife]

Soap for the character ask game plz :)

Do I really need a reason to yap about him? Nah, but I'll take it, thanks :)

If anyone else is interested, I'll be glad to talk about someone else from COD and BG3. The game itself is here if someone wants to reblog!

So. John "Soap" MacTavish.

favorite thing about them

Is "everything" a good enough answer? No? Damn. I guess I'll have to go with his passion. I can tie that to his ADHD, I can tie that to the fact that he's sunshine (and sun burns hot and flares), it doesn't matter - his emotions are bright, run hot, he's impulsive and he feels so strong. I relate to that, I also just like everything bright and flashy. His anger, his loyalty, his sense of justice, his love - they are so big and strong they cannot be contained inside his heart no matter how huge it is. This is what makes him dangerous, this is what makes him vulnerable, this is what makes him so fucking lovable to me.

least favorite thing about them

The fact that he prefers coffee over tea (source: his VA). I'm sorry, I can't stand coffee, my throat literally closes up and stops breathing if I enter some coffee-smelling space and it's not something I can control well (I tried, I swear). So the knowledge that living with Soap would involve the apartment reeking of the forbidden drink, and even worse, kissing him might taste like coffee... it's heartbreaking. I'm training that man to drink tea whether he likes it or not, coffee doesn't do anything for ADHDers anyway.

favorite line

I mean. I feel like using any of Ghoap batner here would be cheating cuz it is very much the best thing ever and also they're bouncing off each other. So I'll go with "Kids, guns and balloons. That's a new one."

It's at the start in Las Almas. I love listening to Soap in general, I love all the Scott-isms he has (even though it seems actual Scottish didn't appreciate those too much), I obviously love the funny lines he has or when he gets angry. But this one just stuck with me. Probably not because it's a Soap line, but because it's a sad line in general (and hits a little too close to home in the current situation).

But also I feel like it's kinda. The fact that I, a 22yo civilian am not actually surprised to see that "kids, guns and balloons" situation (although I am so fortunate to not be witnessing that directly), and Soap, a 26 (I think?) yo SAS Sergeant who ran off to enlist at 15-16 is. It says something about how he views the world, doesn't it? He lacks that cynicism. I've seen people say that veiwing him as a "happy go lucky" guy is incorrect, but I dunno, man. I think if someone who kills people for his job is surprised to see kids involved into crime+politics games, then he's a pretty damn optimistic lad that believes in the good in the world.

brOTP

Soap and Alejandro. There's just something so smooth, straightforward and inherently good about just two men coming to fight for what's right. Also nothing is funnier than Soap's constant cultural shock in Las Almas and Alejandro just chuckling at every silly question Johnny asks. Big brother Alejandro go go go!

OTP

Karlach x Soap for life, everything else is secondary.

nOTP

I reject the concept of nOTP, even the least likely/adhering to my tastes ships are at least interesting to explore. However, I am not a big fan of toxic relationships and such, so something like Soap x Makarov or Soap x Graves would be interesting to look at, but probably upsetting.

random headcanon

He likes the pink Orbit bubblegum, the one that comes in little stripes. His dad used to bring those at the end of the work week, sometimes unopened, sometimes with just a couple pieces left, and Soap stashed them away in his pillow case when he had the willpower not to eat them all at once. His old pillow in his childhood bedroom still smells like bubblegum.

absolutely based on my own life

unpopular opinion

I don't know what's popular to say what's unpopular. But maybe the fact that I think that Soap isn't like a total horndog 24/7? I still think he is pretty horny, more than an average person, but I also think that he's more tactile than anything and that even when he gets a random boner or just is hot and bothered, he can be satisfied with non-sexual touch. But he does not respond well to touch starvation, oh no.

song i associate with them

I am so bad at assosiating songs with characters/ships etc :( I'll be boring and repeat myself for the third time: Ren's "Loco"

favorite picture of them

That comission of him and Karlach I got, duh

But if we're talking ingame, nothing beats him being pretty and doing puppy eyes in that Milena interrogation scene. That hand reaching scene alone has me by the throat.

Thank you for asking about him!! Love youu <3

[thatturtleleon]

TFP Human Hcs Pt. 2

Note: I love this scene, just look at them LMAO, also here's pt.1

Raf

so this is a bit of a newer headcanon i have of him, but i feel like he's transmasc or genderfluid

raf never really cared about gender roles and things like that, but he overheard miko talking about how she didn't mind being called a girl or a boy or whatever people wanted to call her

he asked her about it and she replied saying she knew herself better than anyone else so it didn't matter what other people thought or wanted to label her, she knew who she was and that's the important part

miko then went back to talking about monster trucks or something and raf's just *cue the mind blown emoji*

lol i love them

he definitely went as the Dr Emmett guy from back to the future or as some mad scientist character for halloween

is actually pretty ok at drawing, just doesn't enjoy it as a hobby that much

LOVES learning about cybertron and its history and everything about it

at first ratchet thought all of raf's questions were annoying but grew to appreciate his curiosity

raf prefers asking ratchet any questions he has about cybertron because optimus goes on telling a long memory/story and trails off from the original question (raf's a sweet kid tho, he listens through the whole thing), while ratchet gives more straightforward answers

dog person

Jack

him and miko have "try not to laugh" challenges (raf's the judge) and usually wins

one time however, miko did something unintentionally funny while doing the challenge and jack let out the loudest screeching laugh they've ever heard, like the type of laugh that bubbles up and explodes when you're trying to hold it in

dated sierra for a little while, then sierra came out as lesbian, they still remained good friends though

(leon try not to HC every girl as a lesbian challenge, failed.)

considered going into the medical field like his mom did but decided it wasn't for him later on

in the future he eventually got a job with the government thanks to agent fowler

goes to drive-in theaters with raf and bumblebee but always ends up falling asleep

bought a mini blue motorcycle figurine and carries it in his bag

cat and dog person

favorite song is "roll on (eighteen wheeler)" by Alabama

discovered that he and optimus had similar taste in music (country music ofc) and plays some songs in the base if it's just him

Miko

makes fun of jack for liking country music

cat person (canonly has cats i believe) but she loves dogs too, except for the crusty tiny white dogs that old people have

drew bulkhead and herself together fighting some decepticons and framed the picture for him as a gift

he cried lol

speaking of gifts, she told the bots about birthdays and all of them immediately wanted to know when all the kid's birthdays were

bulkhead and some of the others took her to a monster truck event and she had the time of her life it was amazing

actually got jack into some of the music she likes, and they like going to smaller concerts around town

she bonds with raf by getting into comics and graphic novels, they both enjoy sci-fi ones

definitely doodles all over her desk at school, especially when she's in detention

although she's VERRYY extroverted, whenever she gets a crush on someone or thinks they're pretty, she gets a little quieter/shyer; not a lot but you can tell

jams out to metal music with bulkhead (canon)

i don't remember if this is canon or not, but she has a bag with pins and stuff she's collected over the years

her bookbag has doodle marks all over it, like little stars and swirls and stuff, very much a miko bookbag

[cherienymphe]

Amnesiac IV (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

WARNINGS: eventual NON-CON, eventual DUB-CON, dub-con kissing, violence, public sex, memory loss, underage drinking, drug use, non canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts​​​ | divider by @firefly-graphics​

➥ series masterlist

summary: “There’s something wrong with your love story, baby…”

After a surfing accident leaves you with little to no memory of everything that happened before that day, you start to wonder if the blond in what little memories you do have is the same one who claims to be your boyfriend.

~

Rafe loved kissing you.

You didn’t think it was possible to love anything as much as Rafe loved to kiss you. Once you had crossed that line and loosened the boundary some, he was like a man starved. He liked to kiss you when you first woke up, waving off all concerns of morning breath as his lips chased yours. He made a habit of tasting your lips as soon as you both settled into his truck, like some ritual he had to partake in before he got on the road. Even during the most random of moments like during dinner, he’d lean over while Ward was mid conversation and would quickly touch his lips to yours.

It disgusted Sarah beyond belief.

“It just takes some getting used to,” she had mumbled one day.

You had caught her alone on the back deck, alternating between reading and texting John B. It bothered you that while you two were evidently close before, it didn’t exactly hold up after your accident. You suspected that it had something to do with Rafe, and you weren’t entirely wrong.

“It makes me happy to see that Rafe is treating you well. I mean it,” she’d honestly said. “…but who he is with you isn’t who he is with everyone else.”

She didn’t say it, but you could read between the lines. You picked up on what she was thinking about specifically.

“Like JJ…?”

She sighed, looking away.

“Do you still think Rafe said something or did something to provoke him?”

You still found that so hard to believe. You couldn’t imagine Rafe doing anything like that no matter how hard you tried. Sure, his anger and cruel words that day had shocked you, revealing a side to him that you didn’t know existed, but to be fair, he had been wearing the evidence of an assault at the time. To you, his anger was more than justified.

“It’s clear that Rafe would prefer to keep you in the dark about a lot of things,” she exhaled. “…and honestly? I guess I can’t blame him.”

She looked up at you then.

“There’s just so much shitty stuff that you’ve been given the opportunity to just forget, and I’d probably want to keep things as nice for you as long as I could too. I mean, it’s not like I’m giving you a play by play of everyone’s fuck ups either.”

She shrugged.

“Rafe seems to really like you, and as much as I can’t stand him, I don’t think it’d be fair of me to write a list of every bad thing he’s done when he’s actually doing right by you.”

If you didn’t know any better, she actually looked annoyed with herself as she said this.

“But with that being said, Rafe and JJ have a messy history that goes beyond your accident. Hell, it goes beyond when you and JJ started to become friends. Although that definitely made things worse.”

She mumbled that last part to herself, and with Rafe inside, you took this opportunity to sit down.

You knew what Kelce said about JJ, and while what happened to Rafe pretty much confirmed it for you, you wanted to hear from Sarah too. You wanted to know why you were ever friends with someone who was so obviously bad news. You wanted to know why she and the rest of her friends continued to do the same.

“Kelce said that JJ is…violent, troubled.”

Sarah scoffed at that, slamming her book shut as she shook her head.

“If you’re going to know anything about this island, know that there’s a certain side of the island that thinks they’re so much better than others and is happy to look down on anyone who doesn’t come from where they come from.”

You glanced down, recalling Kelce’s disgusting words about people from The Cut.

“If you asked Topper, he’d tell you that he genuinely thinks people from The Cut were bred to mow lawns,” she continued with a humorless smirk.

You deeply frowned at that, and just like you wondered about the company Sarah kept…you were now starting to wonder the same about Rafe.

“JJ,” she started, sighing. “JJ just didn’t grow up with the same opportunities that they did.”

Your eyes met hers again, and her smile was sad now.

“Yeah, he’s a little troubled, but considering the home he grew up in, the man who raised him, I’d say he turned out better than okay.”

You bit your lip.

“No, he’s not perfect, but neither is Rafe,” she sardonically chuckled. “Yeah, JJ held a gun to Topper’s head once, but I’m positive Rafe didn’t tell you that Topper was trying to drown John B.”

Your eyes widened at that.

“…and I know Rafe didn’t tell you that he jumped Pope in retaliation. He beat him up with a golf club,” she spat.

“Sarah…”

“You don’t remember any of this, and that’s fine, but Rafe and his asshat friends should have the decency to be honest instead of telling you half-truths. They should stop trying to turn you against the people you genuinely cared about and who genuinely care about you…”

You glanced over your shoulder towards the inside of the house where Rafe was.

“…because you never cared about the stupid feud going on between the two sides of the island, and as much as I hate to admit it because I was jealous, there came a point where I wasn’t your best friend anymore.”

You looked at her just as she continued.

“JJ was.”

Your head spun a bit at that, and she looked like she was remembering something that you couldn’t.

“…and if I hated it, then Rafe really hated it.”

“Rafe, please,” you sighed, pulling away from him.

You could feel his worried gaze on you as you stood up, the sound of muffled music reaching your ears.

What you thought was going to be a normal day actually turned into your attendance at another party. Only this time, it was your own. The slight mirth in Rafe’s face as he mentioned a party later on in this very Cameron residence should’ve been your first hint. The way he picked out your dress and spent literal minutes admiring you and praising you in the mirror should’ve been another.

“You had one hell of a near death experience, and you’re here to tell the tale,” he’d told you at the shock on your face as you looked around. “That deserves to be celebrated.”

He had whispered that into your ear before leaning in to press his lips to yours in front of everyone. Ward and Rose were gone for the night, some art convention in Charleston that Rose had been dying to get to. Wheezie was at a sleepover, and you had no doubt that Sarah was with John B. At least, that was what Rafe had told you when you asked.

“You know those two, babe. They can hardly stay away from each other,” he’d said, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

Even though it was days later, your conversation with Sarah was still on your mind, and so you weren’t really in the party mood. You tried to fake it for Rafe’s sake, he’d gone out of his way to do this, after all, but you couldn’t keep up the façade for long. You were alone with your thoughts in Rafe’s room for all of 10 minutes before he found you. He’d looked concerned, but upon confirming that you were indeed fine, he didn’t really waste much time before pressing his lips to yours.

The moment that you realized it was getting hot and heavy, you pulled away, not really up for that either.

“What’s wrong?” he asked you, voice dropping a bit.

You crossed your arms over your chest, holding his gaze.

“Did Topper really try to drown John B?”

Your question was evidently the last thing he expected, and Rafe huffed a sigh, looking away. You swore you heard him curse Sarah’s name.

“So, it’s true…”

Rafe opened and closed his mouth, opting instead to take a deep breath.

“Rafe, I know that there are things I don’t remember and will never understand until I do, if I do, but… If I was as close with Sarah and her friends as I think I was, then I want to explore that.”

His gaze snapped up to hold yours then.

“I want to decide for myself who I hang around, and you and Kelce made it seem like JJ was such a horrible guy, but by your own standards…isn’t Topper?”

You hesitated, swallowing.

“Aren’t you…?” you softly continued.

You watched as Rafe’s gaze darkened, jaw clenching.

“Sarah told me what you did to Pope.”

“She-.”

“Not because she has it out for you or anything, but to show me that it isn’t so black and white.”

You hurried to get near him, taking Rafe’s hands.

“I know that you’re just trying to look out for me, but…I had a whole entire life before my accident, and I want to know everything. I want to know who all of my friends were and all of my hobbies and the places I liked to hang out at.”

Rafe was quiet for a moment before slowly exhaling. You kept your eyes on him as he stood to his full height, face unreadable but eyes narrowed just a tad as he gazed at you.

“JJ punched me while I was trying to get food for my family. That’s the kind of guy you want to get to know…?”

You hesitated, and Rafe’s brows drew together.

“Unless you think I did something to have that coming,” he slowly said, and you furiously shook your head.

“Rafe, no- of course not!”

He lifted one perfect brow, and you could feel yourself deflating.

“I just don’t think it’s that simple. You and Topper have done some things too-.”

“Things you don’t even remember. You don’t even remember the full story or context but just what Sarah told you, but you saw what he did to me. You saw with your own eyes what I am talking about,” he slowly said, gesturing to you.

You didn’t respond, not quite sure how to.

“Do…do you know what it was like to see you in that water?”

His words made your heart drop, and you sharply inhaled. Rafe’s face had hardened now, jaw clenched and blue eyes icy as they gazed at you.

“To pull you out? To push against your chest until I was sure I’d break it because I was so desperate to see you breathing again?”

You blinked, vision blurring a bit as you exhaled.

“Rafe…”

“I almost lost you…for good,” he sneered. “…and now history is repeating itself.”

“No-!”

“It is. It is because…this…thing where Sarah and her friends, where JJ gets in between us is looking pretty familiar.”

You looked down with a frown.

“I promised myself and you that things would be different this time. When I handed you over to the doctors and nurses at the hospital, I made that promise only for this to start happening again,” he spat.

You reached out to him, apologies on your lips when he snatched his hands away. You blinked, a few tears escaping as he stared you down. He slowly held his hands up, chest heaving with deep breaths before brushing past you, telling you that he needed some air.

You knew that it probably wasn’t your first fight with Rafe, but it was the first that you could remember.

Once Rafe had left, you’d just sat in his room and cried. The more you thought on it, the more you could see things from his perspective, and it just made you feel worse. You didn’t even want to imagine what Rafe had gone through in saving you, and the pain and anger in his eyes spoke of a past that was probably much more tumultuous than you thought.

Sarah had said that you and Rafe used to be close, but she’d also said that you and JJ had become closer…and somehow, your supposed dislike of Rafe was thrown into the mix somewhere. Was it possible that Rafe’s version of things was the truth? After all, Sarah had admitted that she never knew why you had suddenly started hating Rafe one day. She couldn’t even tell you while Rafe on the other hand seemed to have an actual answer…and it was JJ.

You didn’t even know what time the party ended, nodding off to the faint sound of music.

When you woke up, it was morning, and you could hear Rafe’s shower running. You didn’t know what time he came back, but his side of the bed was warm, and that told you that he’d slept next to you. You were still wallowing in sorrow when he came out, blinking at the sight of his towel hanging low on his hips. Your heart raced as your eyes traced the droplets that danced down his skin, and when he looked at you, you didn’t have time to pretend like you weren’t admiring him.

“Morning,” he eventually said.

It came off as guarded, and you blamed yourself. Rafe didn’t know where he stood with you, and you didn’t like that.

“I’m sorry,” was your reply.

You pushed yourself to sit up, heaving a sigh.

“I’m really sorry…”

You continued when he didn’t reply, opting instead to lean against his dresser and stare at you.

“When Sarah told me what you and Topper did…it shocked me,” you admitted. “I felt like I was thrown a curveball because suddenly there was this much darker side to you that I didn’t even know existed.”

You watched as he swallowed.

“It made me doubt everything you told me. It made me doubt you.”

Rafe exhaled before moving to sit before you, his fingers brushing yours on the bed.

“Yes, I’ve done some messed up stuff…but…you have to understand that this thing between us and the Pogues? We all have,” he admitted before reaching up with his free hand to brush his thumb over your lip. “Except you.”

He held your gaze, a crooked smile on his pink lips.

“Never you,” Rafe murmured. “…and that’s why its so unfair that you’re the one that got hurt the most when all you’ve ever done was try to get along with everybody. It’s like you paid for my fuck ups.”

You tilted your head to the side, face falling.

“Rafe, don’t…don’t say that,” you whispered.

“It’s true,” he replied, blue eyes focused on his bedding now. “I hurt some people, but I never…”

His gaze slowly lifted to meet yours again, and his voice was steady with conviction.

“I never hurt you.”

You threaded your fingers through his.

“…and now I feel like I have. I feel like the accident was my fault.”

“Rafe-.”

“I should’ve tried harder to keep you away from him, to be less pushy about a lot of things-.”

“Rafe, stop!”

His face was in your hands, now, and you shook your head.

“Stop it, please,” you begged. “That’s too much to internalize, to take on.”

You both were quiet for a while, and you sighed.

“Rafe, I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to be honest…”

He studied your face.

“…and whatever your answer is, I’ll respect that because I remember the love and trust that I had with you, and it is the only thing that I know for sure. That feeling.”

You brushed your thumbs over his skin.

“I don’t remember my supposed friendship with JJ or guns and murder attempts or even my friendship with Sarah. I don’t even remember hating you, but I do remember loving you,” you told him. “I remember that feeling, and I choose to trust that and you because it’s the only thing that has been certain, so…”

You licked your lips, and Rafe’s gaze followed the movement.

“Do you want me to be friends with JJ again? Do you want me to try and be friends with any of them again?”

Rafe took a long time to answer, and the emotions on his face changed so many times, the conflict within him evident. He eventually took a deep breath before his eyes met yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that made your skin hot.

“No.”

His voice didn’t waver, and he continued to hold your gaze.

“They’re bad for you, they always were, and…I don’t think I should be the bad guy for saying it,” he slowly told you.

His answer didn’t shock you, but your hands fell anyway, and you nodded.

“Okay,” you eventually replied. “Okay. If that’s what you want…”

Rafe’s eyes flitted between yours, searching your gaze for any uncertainty.

“Yeah…?”

You gave a nod, and he released a breath, reaching for you to rest his hand on the back of your neck before pulling you into a kiss.

Rafe always kissed you like his life depended on it. Desperate and hungry and feverish rolled into one. His hair was still damp, a few water droplets hitting your face as he moved his mouth over yours, and you’d almost forgotten that he wasn’t dressed until his chest brushed against you.

His other hand found your waist, fingers digging into the skin through your dress that you still had on from the night before. It was moments like this when you thought about that memory of the two of you on your bed. You’d wonder when this would progress into something more, and then you’d mentally smack yourself because you knew that was entirely dependent upon you.

You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Rafe wanted you.

Badly.

If the way he touched you wasn’t enough of a sign, then the way he looked at you definitely was. He always ran his eyes over you in a way like he was committing you to memory…or recalling one. It made you nervous in a good way, but then those thoughts would lead to insecure ones.

Had you been good in bed? Had Rafe been satisfied with you? It seemed like the obvious answer was ‘yes’. After all, why would he stay? And why would he constantly undress you with his eyes if he hadn’t been? When Rafe’s hand slid to the front of your neck, something deep in your gut flipped…and you didn’t know why.

His fingers brushed over your skin, and they curled around your throat ever so gently, and you jerked. Rafe didn’t seem to notice, and you blinked your eyes open, reaching up to touch his hand. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest for some reason, and you squeezed your eyes shut just as a sharp pain burst through your temple.

Deep in the crevices of your mind, you felt a hand wrapped tightly around your throat, choking you and jerking you. You could see your own hand on the strange wrist, desperate and shaky. You couldn’t breathe and wind whipped against your face and there was a wall at your back.

You ripped yourself away from Rafe, eyes wide now as you stared past him.

You could feel Rafe looking at you strangely, and you couldn’t find the words to reassure him. You couldn’t even find the words to reassure yourself. Was that a memory? It had to be because God knows it certainly felt like one. You slowly reached up to touch your neck, and you heard Rafe call your name.

“Are you okay…?”

You slowly lifted your gaze, eventually nodding.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m…I’m fine. I think…”

That last part sounded more like a question, and Rafe rested his hand on your shoulder.

“Um…I need to shower,” you told him, slowly standing.

You practically stumbled to the bathroom, fearful and confused by the strangest sense of déjà vu you’d gotten just then.

[ruinofchimera]

Finally, someone had the guts to address this absurd circus around so-called ‘ugly’ characters in books. And look—I’m only human, so of course, I’m going to toss in a few logs of my own into this dumpster fire.

What I can’t—will not—ever stomach is the sheer audacity of some people to dictate how others should imagine characters. The nerve. It’s as if they’re so puffed up with their own sense of importance, so absolutely convinced that their view of the world is the gospel truth, that they feel entitled to impose it on everyone else. Well, let me save you some time—you’ll get nothing from me but a resounding ‘bloody sod off.’ Maybe try therapy if you’ve got that much pent-up energy.

The fandom debates on the matter of attractiveness—dear God, they’re relentless. The second a character’s ‘ugliness’ is even hinted at, the discourse spirals into some surreal parody of itself. And when it comes to Severus Snape, well, that’s where people have really outdone themselves. That’s where the madness truly reaches its peak. You’ve got one half of the fandom—rabid ATYD fanboys and fangirls, mostly—ready to pounce on any art or fancast that doesn’t fit their atrocious vision of Snape with the chant, ‘THIS IS TOO PRETTY TO BE SNAPE!’ And then you’ve got the other half of the fandom who take it upon themselves to issue a rallying cry for ugliness, as if they’re campaigning for some higher cause. ‘Don’t be afraid to picture Severus as ugly as he truly is. I prefer him that way,’ they say, as if they’re handing out some kind of badge of moral superiority for embracing ugliness.

Well, hold on a second—define ‘ugly’ for me, would you? While you’re at it, define ‘pretty.’ I’d love to see you try to box up something as subjective as human attraction into neat little labels. What do you mean he isn’t beautiful? Do you think there’s some universal truth about what constitutes beauty? Have you ever heard of this tiny thing called tastes?

Because here’s the reality: tastes vary. What’s pretty to one person is ugly to the next. Yet, somehow, these people have convinced themselves that conventional beauty is the only standard worth recognizing. It’s almost as if they’ve been so brainwashed by mainstream standards that they can’t comprehend any other version of reality.

And even when you do talk about conventional beauty, do you really think everyone’s swooning over the same faces? Take Ben Barnes, for example—an actor practically deified by parts of the internet. Do you think he’s universally adored? Brace yourself—because he’s not. There are people out there who think Barnes, despite all his fanfare, has a nose far too ugly for anyone’s liking. And guess what? That’s fine. Because beauty is subjective. It always has been; it always will be.

Yet, in fandoms, you’d think some people were personally appointed to enforce these ridiculous beauty standards, insisting that everyone must imagine the characters the only right way. Let me let you in on a secret: just because a narrator calls a character ‘ugly’ doesn’t mean jack. Writers, same as anyone else, have their own bloody preferences. Sure, they can project those tastes onto the page, but at the end of the day, it’s just that—tastes. Nothing more.

Now, take Snape. What do we actually know about his so-called ugliness? A large, hooked nose. That’s it. And from that, you want people to conjure up some grotesque, monstrous image? Give me a bloody break. Who even gets to decide what’s ‘large’ and what’s not when it comes to appearance? It’s subjective, like everything else in beauty. You like a nose that’s straight and button-sized, or maybe you prefer someone who’s practically noseless, like Voldemort? Well, good for you. I’m not here to judge. But do me a favor—keep your pristine, perfectly upturned little nose and your narrow standards of beauty out of my business.

And here’s the funny thing—the absolute hysteria over Snape’s greasy hair. You’d think the guy walked out of a swamp the way people go on about it. But guess what? There are plenty of characters with greasy hair that fans are practically wetting themselves over. Need an example? Loki Laufeyson. That’s right—the Loki. The man’s got exactly the kind of lanky, greasy hair that should, by your standards, render him disgusting. Yet, somehow, there’s a whole legion of fans swooning over him like he’s some fallen god of beauty. Suddenly, greasy hair is mysterious and sexy.

Let’s not forget—Loki is played by none other than Tom Hiddleston, whose appearance is hardly what you’d call ‘conventional.’ He’s not some pretty boy with chiseled features, and yet, there’s no shortage of people who are ready to kneel at the sight of him. So, what happened there? Where’s all the hand-wringing over his greasy locks? Oh, that’s right—there isn’t any. How inconvenient for you and your narrow-minded standards of beauty. It’s almost as if your little squeaks about ugliness are soaked in nothing but shallow, prejudiced nonsense.

Beauty isn’t about ticking off boxes on some checklist of features society has deemed acceptable. It’s personal, subjective, and as varied as human taste. If all you can get behind is some cookie-cutter version of aesthetics, then by all means, live your bland little life. But don’t you dare try to impose that on the rest of us. You don’t get to dictate how others picture characters, just like you don’t get to decide what’s ugly. Beauty’s a wild, unpredictable thing—and it’s about time people stopped trying to cage it with their narrow ideas of what it should be.

[coeurcanelle]

☆Baby,the stars shine bright☆pt3

pt1,pt2, pt4,pt5

inspired by the 'kamikaze girls',♡ always had unconditional love for lolita fashion and nothing else but when she met ellie,an auburn haired girl whos part of a gang with a dad's fashion sense ,her love for clothes begins to compete with her growing feelings for ellie

strangers to friends to lovers,love-hate friendship,ellie is into reader♡ but reader♡ shows no interest (in the beginning),opposite aesthetics,early 2000s

wlw,fluff

wc:4k

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Her name is Ellie. She's been with her gang for a year now, and her favorite activity is driving through the city with her friends at night. She revealed she only has one parental figure, not her biological father but a father figure, which explains her taste in fashion.

Ellie somewhat resembles you more than your dad when you think about it. Both of you are the same age and spend most of your time doing things you enjoy, although she's more of a night owl while you're a morning person. Her favorite color is black, whereas yours is pink. She enjoys hanging out with people she bonds with, while you prefer solitude.

"Last Christmas with Joel, we decided to try decorating our house with cool lights, so we bought them and spent the evening displaying them all over the facade. We even got a little Santa with his reindeers and placed them on the roof. It looked really cool. But the next morning, everything was gone," Ellie admitted, implying she was just as reckless as you, but you disagreed.

"That's not just bad luck; you're just cursed."

Thieves weren't uncommon in the area, but catching them was difficult, as you were learning the hard way. That's why Ellie offered you a hand, claiming she had nothing else to do, although she felt bad for you. She didn't say it aloud, but she appreciated that you didn't accuse her of stealing your purse, and she would never forget that.

That is all you managed to get from her as you wandered around your isolated village looking for the thief that stole your purse.

You felt like a desperate mother searching for her lost child in the middle of nowhere. You could laugh at how desperate both you and Ellie looked, asking every single person you came across if they'd seen your precious item. But, with the luck you had, you were nowhere close to getting it back. Everyone gave you the same nerve-wracking answer: "sorry, I didn't see anything around, but if I do, I'll tell you right away".You were losing your patience by the minute, and Ellie could feel it.

"They all sound suspicious repeating the same thing",you sighed as you ranted. Yes, you were to blame, but no matter who it was, you were going to make them pay, a million times the price of your bag. There was no way you could let them get away with this.

"It's not like theyre actually going to say they stole it"

Both of you stopped walking, not only because you were tired but also because you had searched pretty much everywhere in this village. The clouds were hiding the sun, darkening the ground beneath, like your aura losing its brilliant colors and giving room to the darker ones brought by despair.

The only thing you could do was cry, but you were even too tired to shed tears. "I'm done."

Giving up was an option, but it wasn't part of Ellie's nature. "Maybe they don't live in this area."

"I dropped it in front of my house, and it's a small village in the middle of nowhere. How is it that out of nowhere, a thief popped up to get it?" Despite replaying this scene countless times, the lack of clues wasn't getting you anywhere. You started to wonder how someone could even do this to anyone; you wouldn't wish that upon your worst enemy.

It was just a purse, but you carried your wallet and your ID card with it!

It was becoming a serious matter

"maybe because thieves dont come out of nowhere, you're not thinking hard enough"

"are you saying I'm like a thief magnet or something ?"

ellie looked at you up and down not knowing if she was supposed to act surprise at your remark"how much did your purse even cost?"

she made you answer your own question confirming you were indeed a thief magnet,by dropping you purse you had actually dropped 5000 bucks on the ground !

who the hell puts that much money for a bag? Ellie thought

"that's not bad luck,you're just stupid," you could tell she had been restraining herself from saying this for so long, but you couldn't blame her.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

One more thing you would have never guessed about Ellie is how intelligent she actually was.

The thought of taking the train to go to Tokyo to find anyone selling your precious item, where you can target a big crowd of people, hadn't crossed your mind until Ellie brought it up.

You assumed your brain was badly functioning from the lack of reward after working so hard to find the thief. You have been walking around for what seemed like a lifetime to find nothing but more exhaustion enveloping you.

It made you wonder how the freckled-faced girl in front of you looked still full of energy.

Maybe she was just excited to beat up someone; after all, it might be just another normal day for her.

Most of the time, you'd find yourself enlightened walking around Japan's capital city, but under those circumstances, your mood couldn't get any better.

"It kinda looks similar," Ellie pointed at a purse displayed in a convenience store. She was trying her best to help you after gave her a precise description of your purse. Unfortunately, she has a very poor imagination.

"Not even close."

The weather became cloudier as you and Ellie wandered around, looking at everyone suspiciously. It was going to start raining, but Ellie had spotted places where you could stay since you didn't have an umbrella.

You only accepted when you came across a cute coffee shop.

🫖☆🫖☆🫖☆🫖☆🫖☆🫖☆🫖☆🫖☆🫖☆

With Baroque paintings displayed on the rock walls, the smell of menthol perfumed the whole place, and jazz played softly on speakers, you couldn't help but already fall in love with this place.

Ellie sat across from you, repeatedly trying to light up her joint, ignoring the 'smoking is forbidden' sign in front of the shop.

Silently, you sipped the hot tea, letting the aroma amplify once it touched your tongue. You didn't need much to be happy. Certainly, you didn't need Ellie to smoke in front of you, blowing some of it your way. The poor girl failed to catch your attention away from your tea, feeling ignored.

You kept silently drinking your tea, cherishing your daily tea time, closing your eyes to quiet your worried thoughts for a moment. The motorcycle girl took out her joint and lit it up again; the flicking sound was starting to annoy you.

You opened your eyes to her taking a puff from her nose

"stop that"

even though you were slightly annoyed she managed to get your attention back to herself

"man im just trying to lighten up the mood"ellie said after blowing the smoke out of her nostrils proudly.

You liked the smell of cigarettes, and though you didn't smoke, you could tell she was, in fact, not smoking one. That's why you refused when she proposed you take a puff.

Instead of convincing you, she tried to impress you by taking another puff with her other nostril.

"Seriously, do you get paid to be a clown?" you asked, trying to annoy her, as you lifted up your cup to drink more tea.

"I thought about it, but I'd lose my job if they ever hired you," you almost choked on the tea, making Ellie laugh so hard she put a hand on her stomach. You had just confirmed what she had said as she watched you cough, almost coughing your lungs out.

"Was it the weed that was making Ellie stop taking everything personally?

"I'll charge you with attempted murder," you said, rolling your eyes at the girl in front of you.

After a while, Ellie's rambles attracted all your focus away from the taste of the tea and the jazz music playing, but you weren't complaining as she was interesting to listen to. The reason she bought a jacket similar to the her other ones was that her gang was organizing a festival, and it was coming soon, she wanted to look brand new. All she needed was to find a local designer to write the name of her gang. The money she had came from her dad and giving guitar lessons, which surprised you; you didn't expect her to be an artist.

A new side of her was shown to you as she kept rambling. You noticed how she scratched her neck every now and then, the way she would speed up her speech when she gets excited, and when she'd stutter a bit when you were keeping eye contact. She stopped talking after realizing she's been the only one talking, but you truthfully didn't mind.

"so when's the last time you killed someone ?" you asked making the girl in front of you confused

Ellie discovered a new side of you too; you were more of a listener than a talker, and for a person like her who likes to ramble, it was a win for her.

"I said I'm from a gang, not that I'm a local serial killer," Ellie explained. The Ellie you would have just met would have answered defensively, but her tone was rather sarcastic. She was bearable when she didn't take everything personally.

It was true that many gangs out there have blood on their hands, killing their opponents but also innocent citizens. But Ellie didn't share the same values and joined a gang you've never heard of before.

"I joined Dina's gang after trying to run away from home. I didn't know how to fight at the time; she taught me everything. I owe it all to her." The more you talked, the more questions you had. The conversation easily switched from carefree to serious.

The deadly gangs you would hear about were the ones targeted by Ellie's gang, which is motivated by values of respect and loyalty rather than free violence. That is why you've never heard of it, because most gangs are like the ones your father was once in.

This also explains why ellie is still following you around helping you to find your stolen purse,but this also makes you wonder....

"why did you run away?"

Suddenly, Ellie realized she had been oversharing quite a lot, but it's not her fault that you have such a trusting aura!

Getting better at reading Ellie, you realized you touched a sensitive subject and looked away from her, back at your now-empty cup of tea, trying to change the subject. "i'm still wondering though..." You recalled the letter you received from Ellie, the one with childlike writing.

"how did you discover where I live?" You didn't forget how Ellie mentioned she would meet you at your house instead of you going up to hers, but maybe that's because, in this case, you would have thought it was a trap and you wouldn't come there. You thought about this, but it still doesn't unravel the mystery of her knowing exactly where you live, which was kind of unsettling.

"wasn't hard. I just followed your dad after he was done selling in Tokyo." The casual tone in her answer just made the whole thing even more unsettling. You wondered if it was just the weed and hoped she was lying.

"you mean you stalked my dad?" You asked, hoping you were the one hearing wrong.

"how is that stalking? I just followed him to your house, but not like that..." Ellie tried to explain rationally but made things even worse, confirming you had been hearing perfectly.

"girl, did you drop out of kindergarten? That IS stalking. Why would you do that?" You were absolutely at a loss for words. More confused than upset, you knew Ellie didn't mean to harm anyone, but her way of using rational thinking was still questionable.

Ellie sighed,she didnt know how to explain this while sounding sane"first of all shut up I didnt drop out,I just wanted to know where I could get clothes from him thats all"

thats all ?

"you were literally going to beat me up when I showed up instead of him",you said raising your eyebrows,you werent even upset you just wanted to tease her

"no-omg-okay maybe.. but everything turned out fine"the auburn haired girl stuttered as she scratched her neck again,you noted she'd do this when nervous

"i should call the cops on you wtf"

ellie looked up at you,with a stupid smirk on her face"you need me you cant do that"

You played along, pretending to be upset as you got up and started to leave. However, Ellie felt bad, interpreting your sarcasm as seriousness, and grabbed your arm as she started to apologize for stalking your dad.

"I was just going to pay for the tea," you said, but Ellie got up instead, doing it for you.

You hadn't expected her to take your playful act seriously, but it was kind of hilarious.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

It was true that you needed her help to catch whoever stole your bag. She knew how to fight, and she did look scary to people. You could already imagine the scumbag surrendering and giving back your precious item... but then again, this looked way too easy.

After your tea time and Ellie's smoking session, you went for another round of walking, looking for your purse.

"She's probably wearing a blue frilly dress like you, because your bag is blue. I guess she wanted to match."

"I've never seen another lolita girl in my hometown," you might not have any clues, but you might have a lead.You told Ellie it might be an average mid-30s man who happens to know the worth of your purse but Ellie was reluctant.

However, you finally decided to file a report of your stolen purse to the police, hoping they would do a better job at catching the thief. After doing so, you walked outside where Ellie was leaning on a wall, smoking again. She remained calm despite the fact that you didn't catch the thief.

"You know what? I'm convinced we're living in a simulation, and that none of this is real. We might be aliens sent from Mars, or maybe we're re-experiencing past life memories, or maybe we're just in some deep coma we have to wake up from."

Although you didn't smoke, you seemed more high than Ellie. "never try smoking."

How was she still happy enough to make jokes despite how awful this situation is making you feel?

"maybe its a life lesson,I should stop buying expensive things from now on"

"oh c'mon its really not that deep,you dont like your purse anymore or something?"

"It's not that-"

"if you can buy one you can buy another one",ellie walked up to you after tossing her joint on the floor giving it a few stomps to put out the burn

"do you think money grows on trees or something ?"

Ellie looked you up and down, from your embroidered white headband to your 'Alice and the Pirates' frilly dress and your white platform boots. She didn't see your outfit as just a simple ensemble, but rather a bag full of gold, ready to be converted into money.

"hell no, don't even think about that," you said firmly. No matter how difficult things could get, you would rather be killed than sell any of the clothes you own. It was like reselling Christmas gifts; you grew emotionally attached to those priceless dresses.

"I knew you'd say no. I was just joking," Ellie said before both of you went on to another activity:getting money to buy a similar purse. Cleaning people's shoes, betting on the three shell games, pickpocketing... You realized getting money in Tokyo wasn't that hard, but none of these options appealed to you for now.

You had to find something that would certainly get you money.

Ellie walked beside you, looking around too. You wondered if she was joking around because she was high or just letting her guard down. Either way, you didn't mind her being this way.. She had stopped spitting and approaching you like she was going to headbutt you after you got to know each other better.

"how about this?" ellie stopped and pointed at a building as she looked at you with a smirk

"I have enough trouble as it is, adding more isn't something I'm interested in," you replied. Wasn't it obvious that you've never been into criminal activity before? So why was she thinking about robbing a whole bank?

The sigh that escaped Ellie was one of pure disappointment, though she was half-joking. But that changed once you stopped by an eating contest.

"Spicy food contest, winner gets $100," both you and Ellie read on a large poster placed on a table. A few chairs were arranged around the table, and your eyes followed some people seated in front of a chef's hat. Only two chairs were unoccupied. You looked at Ellie, unsure if she would agree, but she instantly read your mind.

"I've eaten spicy food before, it's no big deal."

Your energy shifted to competitive mode; there was no way you could consider losing, but if you did, you hoped Ellie had your back."what kind of spicy food, though?"

"just trust me, it's a piece of cake," the auburn-haired girl said before stretching her arms and neck as if she was preparing for a fight. She wasn't considering losing either.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Already 2 minutes in, Ellie's face was red from the spiciness. The contest consisted of eating a whole plate of different spicy foods under 5 minutes. From noodles to chicken wings, Ellie felt like her tongue was on fire!

Milk wasn't enough to calm down Ellie; she felt like drinking a whole river.

You, on the other hand, were handling it pretty well; your grandma used to give you a bottle of Tabasco to punish you as a kid, so this was nothing compared to what you had experienced.

Maybe pain does make you strong?

"Time's up! Everyone, open your mouth!"

With luck and a little bit of courage, your plate was entirely empty with no crumbs left compared to other contestants. Some even tried to cheat by hiding their food under the table, but it still didn't stop you from winning!

The man who organized the contest congratulated you and rewarded you after cleaning up the table. Ellie looked at you in absolute shock; she also felt kind of humiliated after what she had told you, but at least you got what you came for.

"It's just spicy food, no big deal, yeah?" You couldn't help but tease Ellie about it. The confident look on her face vanished from the moment she started to eat the spicy chicken; she wasn't even looking at you, embarrassed.

"shut up, I was close to beating you." You just laughed at her words; her face was still a bit red from eating. You counted up the money you had, only a few bucks, and you could buy yourself a new purse!

"wanna go for another round then?" The auburn girl stayed silent and responded with a violent side-eye. You understood you had to find another way to get money rather than eating spicy food...

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Ellie convinced you to bet the $100 you won on the three shell game after refusing multiple times. It turns out she didn't lie when she said she was good at seeing through those scams.

"I used to learn magic tricks when I was 10," she told you, and you didn't need to know what for after she got your money doubled up. Only a few bucks were left, and an idea popped up in your mind as you and Ellie kept walking in Tokyo: "why don't you bring your guitar and play here?"

The thought of playing in front of everyone was making Ellie nervous, not because she was bad or anything, but she didn't want to come across a potential enemy of her gang. She had to keep her tough image, especially in the streets.

"uh, I'm still learning, and I never practiced in front of a big crowd," Ellie lied, but you kept insisting.

"come on, are you really that bad? You said you've been playing since you were a child"

Despite your insistence, it didn't have the same effect on Ellie as it had on your dad.

"It doesn't mean I play like a professional; plus, there are many other ways to get money," Ellie kept giving you reasons, but you finally stopped insisting. In fact, you didn't need to get money anymore to buy a new bag...

You finally found it!

Ellie noticed the change in your expression and wondered what was going on, so she followed the direction of your gaze.

There it was, shining bright like a diamond, as blue as the sky, begging to be back in its place. It was an average man with a long beard in his mid-30s, carrying it as he walked in front of you.

Ellie turned her head to look back at you, silently asking, 'Do you want me to take care of him?' But you didn't want to leave this to Ellie. You felt rage building up inside you along with a sense of relief; you had to make him pay.

You ran towards the man who was walking in front of you, hoping to catch him before he disappeared again. The sound of your platform boots approaching made him turn his head in curiosity before you jumped on him. Both of you fell hard to the floor; his head hit the ground while his hands were still clutching your purse.

You snatched it out of his hands, not caring about hurting him. You were more hurt than he was after what he's done. The look of pity on his face made your blood boil. He even had the audacity to reach for your purse again!

"It's mine, you fucking dumbass bitch. Try to ever steal from me again and I'll slit your throat open until you bleed to death. You can have fun stealing other people's bags in hell." You spat on his face after stomping his stomach, releasing all the anger you've been carrying.

This man needed to be humbled.

You've always been told to fight back. If someone hits you, you should hit harder. And if the person hitting you still has the audacity to hurt you, you didn't hit hard enough.

The man finally stopped trying to get back your purse as he was busy spitting blood. You stopped hitting him, considering that was enough karma for him.

You had to let him know you weren't a person to mess with.

Despite your brilliant and cute clothes, a wise soul and a strong character were hidden within, one that despised being bothered.

You walked away from the man, making sure your purse still had your personal belongings, unaware that your scene had attracted the attention of the people around. You approached Ellie, who was once again at a loss for words.

The girl also walked up to you. "how can you even run in those?" She pointed at your shoes.

"practice, I guess," you shrugged your shoulders before taking Ellie's hand. You didn't know where to go, but you definitely didn't want to stay in the eyes of the people who had witnessed you beating up a 30-year-old man.

You began to walk, dragging Ellie with you, but she stopped. "wait."

You were met with confusion and dropped her hand

Was she scared or something?

Ellie was also bad at reading people, but you made things even worse for her. You were like a book with covers that didn't match the atmosphere of the story, but the side of you that you had just shown got her hooked.

Suddenly, you heard the sounds of motorcycles roaring nearby. You had attracted a whole gang!

They were all girls wearing the same jacket as Ellie's, no helmets, no weapons, but they were still radiating an intimidating yet powerful energy. Their motorcycles stopped just behind Ellie, and you felt the girls' intimidating gaze on you. You looked at Ellie, wondering what was happening.

Ellie didn't even need to turn around to know that it was her gang. She kept looking at you.

"why don't you join me?"

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Her Secret Side

Summary: Icy is embarrassed to be in love with a nerd. Except Icy is also very much a nerd too so it's fine.

Why him?

Her heart��she apparently does have one—always makes the wrong choices.

On some level or another, it latches onto the wrong people. 

The people she would rather it not. 

Darkar, Valtor, Tritannus…they had all been strange choices in their own rights. She clearly has a preference, her own odd taste. An acquired one for certain. But at least those choices had made sense for her. 

But him?

Him?

She sits across from him, watching him tinker with her laptop. With a reassuring smile he promises that he will make it work again, no magic required. “In fact,” he informs her, “the best way to fix a broken laptop is to put magic aside and pick up traditional tools.” 

“Maybe that is the best way for someone who can locate the motherboard.” Icy folds her arms across her chest. 

“It’s actually pretty easy to find!” Timmy declares. “The good news is that we don’t need to. The laptop isn’t shutting down because of a motherboard malfunction. It’s overheating because the fans are broken; all we need to do is tighten a few screws and replace a few blades and the fan will be working again.”

She comes to conclude that she, in fact, has more in common with her laptop than with Timmy. But that doesn’t stop her frigid heart from seeking him out. Had she maybe dropped her laptop on purpose to create a believable reason for talking to the man? Sure. But her sisters will never pry that confession from her.

Not that it matters. Even though he and Tecna had gone their separate ways, it isn’t as though Timmy has any affection for witches. Especially one of the three that had made a point of calling him a dork and a dweeb. 

“I can show you how to do it.” Timmy offers. “So you can repair it yourself next time.”

“I’m not paying you for that.” 

Timmy shrugs. “I wasn’t going to ask you to. I just figured that you wouldn’t want to have to talk to a loser like me if you don’t have to.”

But she very much does want to and so she makes a point of forgetting everything that he has just told her so that she can approach him again to fix the fans. And then she swears that something else had broken when she dropped the laptop. He promises that it is functioning perfectly well. And so she deletes a few important files and pretends like she has no idea how to recover them. 

He probably thinks that she is an idiot. 

Better that than him realizing that she has affections for him. 

This time when she sets her laptop before him he sighs. “Alright, I think that I need to give you more in depth lessons.” He pushes his glasses, those stupid dorky glasses, up the bridge of his nose. “Free of charge, no worries.”

She nods. 

That will suffice. 

She can stop making up excuses to bring her laptop in and tell her sisters that she is learning how to fix it on her own so that she never has to talk to the dweeb again. Maybe if she spends enough time with him she can convince herself that he is cringe worthy enough to fall out of love with. It is a perfect plan that doesn’t work. 

A perfect plan that is perfect only in how flawlessly it has backfired. 

She finds that she quite enjoys working with the man. Enjoys listening to him explain how different hardwares and softwares work and tips to get them to last longer than they otherwise would have. “Although, I would recommend getting yourself a new laptop pronto. This one is built like a tank but you’ve dropped it like five times now. If I were you I would get the same model, it seems very durable.” 

He inspects the laptop and tells her the make and model as well as the exact coloration and the amount of space on the harddrive. She asks him if he can come with her to the store and help her pick out the best one. 

He has almost certainly put two and two together. 

He tells her that he knows that she is smarter than that.

He goes with her to the store anyhow.

He calls it a first date. 

She doesn’t dispute it. Denial will only make jesting and teasing worse. 

.oOo.

Icy knows that things are coming to an end when he declares, “I don’t want to be your secret anymore.” She supposes that it was always going to end this way. It really couldn’t end any other way. Either she chooses him or she chooses her reputation and the image that she has so carefully and painstakingly built up for herself. The cool and intimidating demeanor that she throws over most other aspects of her personality. 

She can’t let go of it. Not when the witches are eagerly waiting for a chance to pounce upon her and knock her off of her throne. She can name several witches who would love to pay her back for all of the pranks and insults she has thrown their way. 

And so she has to let him go. 

Has to pretend like she hadn’t spent months with the man taking computers apart and watching horror movies on them upon reassembly. 

She has to let him go. 

But he is the only one who has seen her wearing those glasses that she hates so much; they make her look ridiculous. 

And he is the only one with whom she feels comfortable having lengthy discussions about horror movies, the intricacies of true crime, her classwork, and various birds, crows especially.

He is the only one who seems invested in helping her work through each case, trying to dissect angles that detectives have missed and the theories that other enthusiasts have come up with.

He is the only person who won’t take jabs at her for genuinely enjoying classwork and for taking such pride in the high marks that she pretends have nothing to do with actually paying attention in class and getting invested in the material. 

He is the only person she thinks wouldn’t question why she has such a fascination with birds and why she knows all of their scientific names. 

He doesn’t think that it is dumb that she wants to collect horror movie posters and figurines. He buys them for her now and again. She never displays them. 

She has so many facts that she can prattle off about any one of the subjects that interest her and he is the only one who doesn’t cut her off or start to yawn halfway through her spiels. He like to go on rambles of his own and she has grown fond of letting him do so. 

“If you’re that embarrassed by me then why talk to me at all?”

“I’m not embarrassed by you…” She mumbles, folding her arms across her chest. 

Timmy furrows his brows. 

She hates that she can’t take what she dishes out. Resents that she will probably break if people start to treat her the way that she treats them. But more than anything, she dreads that Darcy and Stormy won’t want anything to do with her over this. Darcy is still mad about Riven. Riven who is also open and available now that Musa has,according to Timmy, declared that she has reached her limit with him.

“Yourself?” He guesses. “You’re embarrassed by yourself?”

“Timmy, if there was a second me in this room, I would probably kick my own ass.” Or at the very least she would relentlessly and ruthlessly bully herself. She supposes that she doesn’t need a second her to do that. She accomplishes it well enough on her own. 

“Why?” 

“Why!?” She frowns. “Well why wouldn’t I?” She gestures to her glasses. To the spread of true crime case notes on the floor. To her collection of DVD’s and posters. To the things that make her who she is. 

“You’re allowed to have interests, you know? And you don’t have to dull them down.”

Not when she is with him she doesn’t. But with every one else… “Yeah. I can have interests. Interests that aren’t nerdy.” 

“Horror movies aren’t nerdy. I thought that witches love horror movies.” Timmy points out.

“But birdwatching is an old lady hobby.” Icy grumbles. And with a shake of her head she adds, “and yeah, witches love horror movies but they don’t…”

“Cosplay.” He fills in.

She nods. 

“Who cares?” 

“Who cares?” Icy repeats. 

“Yeah. Who cares? Who cares what they think?”

She does.

Apparently.

“I’m pretty sure that you could just encase them all in ice or something. You probably don’t even have to do that—they’re scared of you, all you have to do is give them one of your ice cold glares and that’ll do the trick.” He tucks her bangs behind her ear, fixes her glasses onto her face, and kisses the tip of her nose. 

She doesn’t want to lose this. 

Doesn’t want to lose the one person who hasn’t had one bad thing to say of this side of her. 

But she doesn’t want anyone else to know about this side of her.

She also doesn’t want to lose her high ground.

“How about this?” Timmy offers. “Tell Darcy and Stormy at least and let me tell Sky and Tecna.”

“You still talk to Tecna?”

He laughs, “no need to get jealous…”

“I am not jealous!” 

She absolutely is the possessive type. 

“We’re still friends, Icy. She just…she decided that romance isn’t for her and that’s okay with me.” He pauses. “Nice try with changing the subject though. Can you at least tell Darcy and Stormy about me and let me tell a friend or two and then we can go from there?”

“I know what happens when one person knows a secret…”

“Tecna is great at keeping secrets and Sky pretended to be Brandon for months and we didn’t suspect a thing.”

Icy grumbles, “I wasn’t talking about your stupid friends, I was talking about mine.” 

Timmy sighs. “Witches.” 

“Fine.” She scowls. “I’ll tell them.” 

Timmy’s cheerful smile returns. He ruffles her hair. She hates that she has to pretend to hate that. “Great! Eventually we’ll get to a point where you feel comfortable enough to tell everybody else the truth.”

Icy sniffs. “Yeah right. Stormy is going to open her big mouth way before I get comfortable with anything.” 

He takes her into a hug. “You’ll live.” 

Clearly her sassy and sarcastic nature is rubbing off on him.

“You’ll live and you’ll realize that it’s perfectly okay to be a total dork.”

“I thought that you said…”

“I didn’t say anything about you not being a dork. You’re definitely one of the biggest nerds that I have had the pleasure of discussing the intricacies of comic book plotlines with. I said that I enjoyed that you’re a dork and think that you should embrace it.” 

She turns her head before he can see the flush creeping across her face. “Whatever. Let’s just start listening to the podcast before I get the both of us featured in one of them.” 

They turn the lights off and light the candles. It is her favorite ambiance for horror movies and true crime podcasts. He lets her stretch herself out upon the couch and lay herself across his lap. He likes to hold the hand that she typically rests beneath her sternum. 

She would very much miss this if she had to let go of it. 

And so she resigns herself to dealing with Darcy and Stormy’s cackles for at least a week.

[cherrycherish]

Unbirthed Usurper

Ria is the newest addition to the work force in the royal palace, only getting the job because someone working at the palace noticed his pretty face in the market, 'not too pretty, just plain enough' the maid said while looking him over, his height and thick black hair obscuring his face enough that most people didn't notice him. She said something about being recommended by someone but didn't explain further. It didn't matter, he wasn't in any position to turn down a job, even if they make him muck the king's stables. He knows he's lucky to get the job, and luckier still that they give him something easy; he simply has to bring the meals the kitchen prepares to whatever room he's told to. It's easy work, the only problem is that he has such a hellish appetite it's torture to smell all the delicious food on the cart and hand it over to someone else to eat. He had always known hunger and somehow even after all these years still struggled to ignore it.

It took reminding himself repeatedly what the punishment would be if he dared touch a monarch's meal to stop him from taking any. Saliva pooling in his mouth as he pushed a cart of piping hot food to its destination. When he is given permission to enter the room he forces himself to straighten up and behave. He's delivering Queen Marissa's food today, such a graceful, warm woman, so willful and strong. He doesn't meet her eyes, but he knows how her face brightens when mealtime comes around.

As Ria turns to leave, his stomach growls loudly, like it's crying out for help. He goes red to his ears but tries to play it off and continue for the door, cursing his gut for its betrayal.

"What's your name?"

He can hardly breathe as he turns back to the queen with a bow, certain that he's going to be flogged for acting unseemly. When she hears his name she doesn't snap at him or call the guard to drag him out, she merely smiles and gestures to her table, "Come eat with me, Ria."

Even though he knows he could be severely punished for such a thing, the temptation of finally tasting the culinary skills of the royal chefs is too good to resist, and he meekly nods and takes the seat next to hers. Her heady lilac scent strikes him as she places a few plates before him, insisting that certain dishes were only sent by the kitchen at the physician's request, and that half the vegetable dishes were from hell itself. She much preferred the pasta and meat and fruits on the cart.

The smell of such decadent food made him salivate, and upon tasting it he'd half wondered if he'd died already. Ria wondered how food could be made to taste so wonderful, everything he'd ever eaten up until now had always been bland. His belly grumbled as he tore into his meal, as if egging him on.

The queen ate just as quickly, though she knew proper etiquette as she did so, he admired her gluttony quietly as he wondered if anyone would notice how long he'd been here. As she stood from her chair and grabbed the last tin from the cart, she arched her back just so, requesting he loosen her corset before dessert.

He quickly did as asked, nimbly loosening the bindings of her corset to allow her some room to breathe, trying not to stare at her healthy physique. She smiled mischievously at him and slid out of her corset and dress entirely, letting her softened form jiggle free. Ria was so in awe he couldn't look away, simply asking if there was anything else he could do to serve her. She sat back in her chair and spread her legs in an invitation, beckoning him to taste her.

"First," she said, "take all of that off."

He couldn't be more red in the face, but hastily obeyed, leaving all his clothing in a pile on the floor. He found himself on his knees between her thighs, lapping at her clit hungrily, eager to repay the kindness he'd been shown.

"Hah, has it been so long since you've eaten well?" She teased, but all he could do was hum and continue to worship her.

"I mmm, think you've earned a reward..." She placed a hand on the back of his head and pushed him face-first into her cunt. In the handful of seconds he sat there stunned, she lowered herself onto him further, stretching around him while moaning. It was tight and so very hot inside, and his mind raced wondering what was happening and how she was doing it.

Once he was little more than legs sticking out of her glistening cunt Ria squirmed a bit, hearing her groan and her body pull him in deeper, until all of him had disappeared inside of her, curling up tightly within her womb.

He felt her rub at her belly while catching her breath, "You'll make a fine heir, hahh, and I'll make sure that you eat very well. Don't worry about a thing, little one."

Ria could only shiver with pleasure as an umbilical cord attached to him and he sank into a deep sleep.

The queen smiled as his body shrank down, grabbing a fork and tucking into the cake she'd set on the table earlier. Polishing it off with a burp she stood and called for one of her ladies in waiting to help her get dressed in something more comfortable, knowing she couldn't squeeze her precious heir with a corset.

In a beautiful embroidered green dress the queen all but skipped to the physician's office, and after a thorough examination he caught her contagious joy, "It seems the king's seed has taken at last, Your Majesty."

She beamed, trying not to laugh, "I'll go tell him at once."

The king, who only had time for his concubines, wouldn't be given the pleasure of filling the queen with an heir. He only ever came to her room once a week to give her joyless sex and then disappeared again. No, the king hadn't earned an heir, and would surely replace her with one of his whores if they were first to produce a child. The queen couldn't suppress her grin as she marched into his wing of the palace, and into his bedroom.

"Rao!" She called, pulling open the curtains to wake him.

He and all his harem groaned at the light, "What is it, Marissa?"

"I've done it at last, my husband. I'm full with child, at last." She stood triumphantly before him, the slightest curve of her middle hardly even noticeable.

The king sat up, "Have you told the physician this?"

"He confirmed it before I came here, of course. I've already picked out a name."

"Should that not be the king's choice?" One of his whores dared to speak.

"Ria," Marissa rubbed a hand over the tiny swell, completely ignoring the question, "His name will be Ria."

The king smiled, looking almost disbelieving, "You think you'll give me a son?"

"Call it a mother's intuition." She couldn't get the smile off her face.

"We'll need to start planning a celebration to announce-- Marissa?"

"Yes?"

"You're crying."

She blinked, she was indeed crying, "I'm-- I'm so happy." She wiped her tears away, "Our son will be here soon."

"Let's save the tears for when he's actually been born, hm?"

Marissa smiled wider as his consorts tittered with laughter, this man didn't deserve a true heir. Once she'd birthed this child she'd get rid of Rao and each of his whores.

But first, she'd play the role of a ditzy pregnant wife, "I'll let the head maid know, oh and the seamstress, I'll go tell her at once! Get up and send word to the duke and the other loyal houses."

Then she was off to see the seamstress and head maid, along with her ladies in waiting. Everything needed to be perfect for her precious prince.

Between planning celebrations and hiring new staff and working with the loyal houses and meeting with merchants, the king hardly had slept and certainly didn't have any time for his consorts. He had to spend time lavishing his wife with gifts to show the opposing houses how united they were.

Naturally, it caught Rao completely off guard when not one, but two, of his six consorts ran away, leaving nothing but a letter of tearful apology in their wake. He'd sent people to search for them but they'd returned empty handed.

The queen meanwhile, was living the dream. Though her feet and back ached, her ladies in waiting were enamored with her growth, doing everything in their power to tend to her. Her prince was strong, kicking her relentlessly whenever it was time to eat. She delighted in knowing he was still an insatiable glutton. She hadn't really meant to eat the two consorts she'd passed in the hall late one evening, she just got such an urge to, and couldn't resist. The two whores made perfect padding on her massive form, she even needed wider seats now.

The physician and seamstress measured her round swell, taking notes as she admired her form in the mirror.

"You're growing well, Your Majesty, the child will surely be healthy, if a bit big."

Marissa ran a hand over the globe, "You said to indulge my cravings as it's what he needs to grow, I'm just following your instructions."

"Of course, Your Majesty, overweight is preferable to underweight. Just don't be surprised on his birthday at how big he is."

She nodded, telling herself that she wouldn't indulge the craving for anymore consorts, though the thought did tempt her.

It was another late evening when the back pain and ceaseless kicking pulled Marissa from bed, her prince was unaware that it was time for sleep, demanding more food despite the late hour. She dutifully put on her slippers and waddled toward the kitchens.

However, in the hallway she found herself cornered by two of her husband's consorts, one even brandished a letter opener at her, demanding to know what had happened to the two that disappeared. In such a position, Marissa told herself, she really didn't have much choice but to eat them, disarming the one with the letter opener and tearing away her night dress before gulping her down, pining the other beneath her huge body while she did so.

Once both of them were locked within her aching belly she struggled to her feet, clutching her full writhing belly with both arms and trying to make her way back to her room, unable to contain the loud belch that escaped. Her nightgown had split along the sides of her swell, it would mean more work for the seamstress to do in the morning.

"My lady?" The soft voice of the palace mage called.

"H-Hermes, hurrrrrrp! Ohh, p-pardon me. I think I, urp, bit off more than I can chew."

Hermes' dark eyes twinkled, "Indeed, it's hard work keeping up with the prince's appetite." He grabbed up the discarded clothes from the floor and threw them over his shoulder, placing one hand on the small of his queen's back and the other against the wriggling swell, "Let me help you back to bed, my lady."

Once she was in bed, he discarded the garments in the fireplace and rubbed at the Queen's aching mass happily. "Has the prince had his fill for now?"

"Urrp, ugh, for now. I'm sure he'll be kicking again by breakfast time." The queen's belly grumbled around the midnight snack. Luckily, the fat insulating her swell trapped the two consorts within, and in the dark the movement was indistinguishable from that of the prince. Finally satiated, the prince allowed her to sleep.

In the morning, after breakfast and before meeting the seamstress, Marissa slipped quietly through the library and into the mage tower. The palace mage was a bright eyed thirty something who had apprenticed under his predecessor, and he had proved especially capable to the queen.

Marissa had zero plans of climbing all those tower stairs, pregnant or not, and merely pressed a ringing charm on the wall. She could just make out the sound of a bell in the top of the tower.

The mage threw open the door to his room and leapt down the stairwell, landing without injury like a cat, standing tall before her and brushing his tawny hair back, she knew under the mage garb he had a powerful body hidden, "Good morning, my lady. I see that you like the one I recommended. Just who did you eat last night?"

"Good morning, Hermes. I uh, ran into two fools who tried to threaten me with a letter opener. The prince you picked was hungry, which didn't help. It's getting a bit difficult to haul all this around, I don't suppose there's anything you could do?"

Hermes looked over the swell like he could see right through it, jabbing a finger into the queen's side, muttering something. Some invisible force lifted her belly up, making it feel weightless. She stretched, relishing each pop of her spine, "Oooooh you're a gift, Hermes. Remind me to give you a raise."

The mage laughed, "I know you don't decide the wages around here, Your Grace, though I appreciate the thought."

"Not yet I don't." She rubbed at her belly with a smile, "I can finally walk around without having to hold all this up myself. I can walk through the gardens! You've blessed me, you truly have."

"Even magic has its limits, dearest. Try not to let the prince make anymore unreasonable demands of you. There's nothing I can do if you grow too wide to fit through doors."

"Yes, alright, no more consort midnight snacks, I understand."

"If you need the other two dealt with, I can--"

"No, I know how busy you are, focus on that. I imagine the remaining ones are too scared to act or Rao will hide them somewhere."

After being remeasured by the seamstress, Marissa took a long walk through the palace gardens, it was nice to have a moment of privacy and fresh air. She felt a flutter inside her.

"The weather is nice out today, hm?" She felt wet, her breasts were leaking, she sighed, "You should be born soon, then you can help me deal with all this."

When the queen came back inside it seemed the whole palace was bustling about. Her ladies in waiting quickly ushered her back to her room, explaining that the king had ordered security to be tighter.

With tightened security the queen was unable to get snacks at all hours, and guards followed her everywhere she went, but other than that things were much the same. She spent her days preparing for her prince's arrival, arranging a nursery, pumping plenty of milk in advance, attempting to make a baby blanket, and waddling around and stretching.

When the day finally arrived, Marissa spent hours suffering through labor, and the only people at her side were the physician, the midwife, Hermes and her ladies in waiting. Rao only bothered to show his face after the labor was over.

Prince Ria was as predicted, a big baby, though Marissa couldn't complain. He continued to show his healthy appetite while nursing, before falling asleep.

Rao stuck his nose up at the sight of the child, "He looks like you."

She laughed, "Nonsense, Rao, he has your eyes."

The king scoffed and left. Marissa watched him leave, wondering how much longer she'd have to wait.

It didn't take long, after a few months the king had caught some odd disease and passed despite all the physician's efforts. Marissa played the part of a grieving widow as long as was strictly necessary, even throwing out the remaining consorts, and then happily returned to proudly doting on her prince. Until he came of age, she'd have to manage the kingdom herself, but she was sure she'd do better than her late husband had.

Hermes was acting the part of someone who was courting her, despite the fact that they'd been together secretly for years, but the courting only made her feel young and more smitten with him than she already was.

He also took pleasure in helping her with the prince, having picked Ria himself, insisting that he looked like her. Mages are usually barren, and the queen had no desire to have a child with anyone else, so it felt nice to have a little family of their own making. Hermes enjoyed showing their baby little magic tricks, which gave Marissa time to get work done.

Yes, she thought, this was infinitely better than spending her life hiding. She was probably the villain by most people's measure, but she was content, as were the people she loved.