#gotta keep these secure somewhere

[heartyearning]

recent movie screenshots (shivers & dinner in america) didn't realise they were both backshots as it were but there you go

[teaboot]

OH FUCK YALL THOUGHT I WAS *ARMED GUARD*????

BRUHHHHHHHH

I'm the lowest level licensed security you can hire

I work foot patrol for shit like wet cement, construction sites, malls, libraries, outreach centers, and local events

My job is, essentially, human scarecrow

I am not permitted to carry a gun.

I am not permitted to carry a taser.

I am not permitted to carry pepper spray.

I am not permitted to carry a baton

I am not permitted to carry a knife or any multitool containing a knife

I don't have a plate vest

I'm not permitted to make any physical contact outside of administering first aid or in self defense, which must be made in minimal force required to ensure personal safety

I escort employees to make bank deposits, ask aggressive or violent people to leave, and take notes on safety hazards in patrolled areas

If someone bleeds, throws up, or takes a dump somewhere they shouldn't, it's between me and the custodian to make sure nobody slips in it bay bee

It is none of my business if someone is doing drugs. If they aren't an active danger to themselves or others then they're golden

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

If you're selling drugs in clear view I will ask that you please do that elsewhere, ideally with more discretion. End of interaction

If you are using drugs in clear view I will tell you *exactly* where the property ends so you can smoke your bong 3 feet outside of that line where I can't do shit if someone complains. End of interaction

Site Security is not police. It is not LPO. Someone could point you out as you run off the site and say "I saw him shove a microwave down his pants and walk out" and it would be approximately none of my business.

THINGS THAT ARE MY BUSINESS

Overdose in the bathroom. I will verbally check twice that you are conscious, and if I get no response I will warn that I am coming in to check on you. If I find you on the ground I will again try to speak to you, warn that I am touching your shoulder, and give you a jiggle. If I can't wake you up I roll you into recovery and wait for paramedics.

Threatening or harassing staff. You cannot make passes at the highschooler operating the pretzel stand. You cannot tell the bank teller you'll "track him down eventually". The lady at the nail salon said she didn't want to marry you six times now and now I'm your problem

Abuse, endangerment, or neglect. If you leave your baby on the sidewalk so you can shop by yourself then I will be the jerk who ruins your day. If you hit your kid I will become very much your problem. If you locked your dog in the car with the windows rolled up six hours ago and it isn't getting up when I tap the window I'm gonna be the biggest pain in the ass you'll see all day

Safety hazards. Don't shoot off a bottle rocket in the parking lot. Yes it's very cool and you probably won't hit anything important but there's a pretty big empty lot like six blocks away man, what if you nail a kid or something. If you wanna take your bearded dragon to the food court, keep him in your coat or in a carrier. Climb the telephone pole on Tuesday because thats my day off

Client complaints/concerns. Boss says you've been here living in your car for three days and it's time to move on. You and I know it's been a month but between us if you switch locations every couple days around the lot she won't catch you again till at least May. As long as you don't leave a bunch of trash laying out we're good.

END NOTES

If you have tattoos on your face, throat, or hands and you wanna pull something you gotta be so incredibly discrete, is so incredibly easy for Law Enforcement to track you down you have no idea. I know like 3 guys with face tattoos in town, one of them's been my buddy since highschool and the other 2 were introduced to me like "watch out for a guy with a star on his cheek, his name is Patrick Sturblish, he's 43 years old and I saw him pocket a redbull once".

Always assume someone is operating the cameras live.

The courts are so insanely overwhelmed all the time, if you nab something small and vital like bandages, tampons, underwear, whatever and don't have a long list of priors usually even a cop won't bother trying to charge you. If I can't tell you not to steal for the consequences then at least don't get cocky about it

In my own experience if you walk into a big store and straight up tell someone "I don't want to steal but I need this very badly" then usually someone will find a way to get it to you

If someone tells me you're stealing on camera I will let you know that someone caught you and it's your last chance to put stuff back before they do something

If you pull a weapon on me or someone else while I'm working then I'm required to inform police so please don't do that thank you

[todayisafridaynight]

heyyyyyy snap how are we this fine *checks nonexistent watch* 10:42am?

well today we're talking about insane people so write that down

[sttoru]

Toji x reader kids first nightmare

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff.

“ugh,” toji groans as his peaceful slumber was interrupted by small cries. it was currently 4:35am and the two of you were cuddled up underneath the blankets after putting megumi to bed a couple hours earlier. toji’s beefy arms were tightly wrapped around your bare figure, his vision blurry and his voice hoarse from the lack of rest once abruptly awoken. you started to stir too, however toji quickly soothes you back to sleep;

“ssh, ssh, i’ll take care of ‘m.” you were usually the one who instantly rushed over to your son during the night and it made your husband feel bad. you already do so much around the house, the least he could do in return was take over this simple task.

toji gets up with a quiet yawn, scratching his head as he tries to find his boxers somewhere on the floor. he manages to spot them scattered near the bed along with your own pile of clothes; “comin’..” toji grumbles, almost stumbling over his own feet while hurriedly pulling up his boxers.

the soft, weak cries of the little baby were at their loudest in the nursery. megumi was in his crib, hands aimlessly flailing around, cheeks red and tears staining both his face and bedsheets. toji’s heart ached at the sight once the lights flickered on.

“i gotta say—y’re breaking my heart there, kid.” the man sighs deeply and reaches down to lift megumi up in his (hopefully) consoling embrace. he’s seen others have nightmares before, his wife being an example, but there’s something about seeing a child—his child—in distress that makes him doubt himself as a dad. he doesn’t have any experience with kids and it showed in specific moments like these. he has no clue on how to handle a child who just got awoken from a bad dream. though, as always, he tries.

“shhh,” shushing is a simple first step that anyone could think of; “it’s okay, daddy’s here,” reassuring the little one of his presence is a decent second step, although there’s no guarantee megumi could understand. toji’s mind was working overtime as he tried to recall the methods you used to help megumi quiet down

he eventually decides to simply sit on the nearby rocking chair, leaning back against it while carefully swaying his son back and forth. his lips were brushing against megumi’s ear to whisper sweet, reassuring things in hopes it would calm the kid.

“must’ve been scary, hm?” toji mumbles, hand gently patting the back of megumi’s head. the baby was still crying, however the volume and intensity of the sobs had decreased greatly the moment he was in his dad’s arms;

“i know.. i know, shhh.” toji continues after placing megumi’s little body close to his bare chest, the chair still moving back and forth slowly—the motions being calming for both father and son.

a couple minutes pass by and megumi was finally back asleep on toji’s torso; it seemed like hearing his dad’s breathing and voice was more than enough to soothe his nerves. toji had his big hands placed securely on megumi’s body, head held low to kiss his son’s forehead as his own eyes started to droop.

“g’night..”

before toji even realised, he had started to doze off as well. he made sure to hold his son tightly—cuddling up to the tiny boy in an attempt to keep him safe and sound from any bad nightmares.

“..love you.”

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 2

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

Summary: After Billy's accident, you go back to the Maximoff house to babysitt the twins.

Time works differently when you’re inside a hospital. That’s true, whether you’re a patient or a doctor.

You measure it in shifts that can extend up to 36 hours. Sometimes you go inside when the sky is dark; by the time you're done it looks exactly the same, and you wonder if the day passed at all.

What’s certain is that you will always run late. Racing around your house, you take your bag, keys and pour coffee on a thermos, carrying a pop tart in your mouth.

You’re so worried with making sure you have everything, you don’t even notice Wanda is at the door until you crash against her.

“I’m so sorry!” you say, the coffee spilling all over your scrubs.

“Oh, my Gosh, is it hot? Are you ok?”

“It’s cold, no worries. Let me get changed, wanna come in?”

You walk back, finding some clean scrubs on a basket near the stairs. Thank God you did your laundry yesterday.

“What’s up, Wands?” you say, changing in the same room. You’re extremely late and can’t afford to go upstairs.

Wanda looks at your smooth skin and toned muscles and blushes, looking away.

“Oh… I… wanted to give you this. Billy drew it the other day. It’s supposed to be you in the hospital”

“That’s so cute” you walk up to her, looking at the drawing over her shoulder. “How’s the arm?”

“It’s good, he’s just itchy”

“Yeah, that happens. Can I keep it?” you ask and she hands you the paper. You put in on the fridge door, a magnet securing the drawing in its place. “I’d love to chat but I gotta run”

Wanda glares when you pick another pop-tart.

“Is that what you call breakfast?”

“I’m late!” you protest with a laugh, taking a bite on your way out.

“Well, come by anytime if you want to have some real food” she offers and you nod, smiling as you get into the car. “Oh, shoot! I forgot to ask. I need a baking tray to put some extra cookies, you wouldn’t happen to have one?”

“It’s your lucky day, my mom gave me one I never use. It’s supposed to be somewhere in the cupboard. There’s a spare key in that ceramic turtle”

“Oh, are you sure? I could come back later”

“No, it’s ok. As a matter of fact, keep it, in case you need anything else” you smile, groaning when your pager goes off again. “Ugh, gotta run! Say thanks to Billy for me”

“Will do” she waves, smiling as you practically put the entire pop-tart in your mouth.

Wanda ignores the regret she feels over not asking for what she really wanted. It wasn’t a baking tray, but some time with you.

—

“Is that your pager or mine?” you say, moaning when Carol’s lips travel lower, pulling your pants down.

“It can wait” she says, leaving open mouthed kisses as you part your legs, your fingers threading through her locks.

“The word emergency is in my job description” you say, reaching out and sighing with relief. “It’s yours”

“Is it 911?”

“Nope”

“Good. Now shut up and let me eat your pussy” Carol says, her tongue darting out to taste you, your hips canting up to move against her mouth.

“Fuck” you say, breathless as you ride Carol’s face. She leaves her place between your legs and you’re about to protest when you feel two fingers stretching you.

“Shhh” she says against your mouth, letting you taste yourself in her lips. “Be quiet for me”

You try to stay quiet, but almost let out a moan when someone knocks on the door of the on call room.

“Doctor Danvers?”

“In a minute” she says, a hand over your mouth. Her fingers pump in and out of you faster and the idea of someone waiting on the other side adds to the thrill. You reach your orgasm with a muffled cry.

“You good?” Carol says with a smile, standing up to get her clothes.

All you can do is nod, waiting for your breathing to go back to normal.

“See you later, pretty girl” she kisses your cheek, going out to meet the resident that was looking for her.

It was cliche, hooking up with someone at the hospital, but of course you had needs and no time to fulfill them outside of this building.

The fact that Carol wasn’t looking for anything serious helped too.

No feelings, no complications.

The rest of your shift goes surprisingly quiet, but you’re still urged to go home when Chief Fury comes across you in the hallway.

Since you leave on time and very well rested, you decide to go for a run as soon as you get home. You enjoy the physical exertion and being outdoors, appreciating the beautiful sunset as you jog around the neighbourhood.

It’s barely getting dark when you reach home, Wanda outside talking on the phone. You wave, but the tense smile she gives back makes you walk to her house instead of yours.

“Everything ok?” you ask as soon as she hangs up.

“Yeah, I had this thing but the nanny cancelled last minute”

“Oh, that sucks, I’m sorry” you look back to your place, and then your eyes meet hers. “Why don’t I take care of the twins for you?”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to… you just got back from work, you’re probably tired”

“It was an easy shift, for once. Plus, I gather they don’t stay up too late, right?”

“No, it would only be two hours, three tops” she promises and you nod.

“It’s settled then, let me just take a shower real quick”

Wanda nods, her eyes raking over your body. She suddenly wished you’d go for runs more often, as you tend to wear really short shorts that show your toned legs.

“I can’t thank you enough” she says, going back to reality.

“Pancakes are always a good call” you wink, going across the street to your place. “Be right back!”

As you shower and change into more comfortable clothes, a part of you gets nervous over babysitting Billy and Tommy. Sure, you were good when you did your rounds in Peeds, but that didn’t mean anything compared to spending an evening making sure they were entertained enough.

Either way, you can’t back out now, so you cross the street, knocking on Wanda’s door. You’re taken aback by how beautiful she looks with a red skirt and red turtleneck sweater, knee high boots completing the outfit.

“You look amazing” you say, forcing yourself to look at her eyes, but it’s not any better, the make up enhancing her features and those striking green eyes.

“Thank you” she says shyly and you nod, not trusting yourself with your words. Wanda moves aside to let you in and you find Billy and Tommy in the living room.

“Hey, kiddos” you greet and they look at you excitedly.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you gonna hang with us?”

“Yeah, of course! We’ll have some fun” you ruffle Tommy’s hair, and inspect Billy’s cast. “Woah, someone has a lot of stickers”

“All of my classmates gave me one! I still have some space here, wanna pick one out?” the boy says, and you smile. Yeah, he moved on from the scared stage to being the cool kid with the broken arm at school.

“Of course, I’ll have to find some cool sticker in my collection” you promise.

Wanda leads you to the kitchen, showing you around. Your mouth waters at the smell of the pasta she made.

“I won’t be gone for long. They’re supposed to be in bed at 9 but I know they’ll get excited because you’re here so I’ll leave it up to you to decide”

“Alright. I’ll try my best to be the adult in the room”

“And remember…”

“No candy after 8” you repeat and Wanda chuckles.

“I can’t thank you enough, seriously” she says, walking towards the door.

“Not a problem”

The boys go say goodbye to their mom, and you think it’s adorable how they hug her and each give her a kiss on the cheek.

Wanda waves goodbye and you close the door, blushing as you appreciate one last time how amazing she looks in that outfit.

“So, what do the Maximoffs do for fun around here?”

“We watch movies or play videogames”

“Oh, like what? Crash, Spyro?” you say excitedly, because you love videogames and it’s been ages since you’ve played.

“What’s a Spyro?” Billy says, confused.

“What? Dude!”

“Dude!” the twins turn to each other, speaking at the same time. Oh, no.

“Damn it” you curse and they repeat that too. You cover your mouth with your hands, afraid of letting out another word that is way worse. “Alright, don’t speak like that. Only adults can say certain words”

“But Mom doesn’t speak that way either”

“That’s because she’s a very mature person. Come on, I’ll show you the best videogame ever”

While you wait for the game to download on their console, Tommy shows you around the house, Billy close behind.

“Can we have dinner before playing?”

“Sure” you nod, going back to the kitchen where you take plates, serving pasta and juice for the twins while you settle on a can of soda.

“Your mom is the best cook, I swear” you say with your mouth full, making the kids laugh. It’s been forever since you’ve had a homemade meal.

“Do you cook?”

“God, no. My talents are limited to medicine, Billy”

“So, do you eat hospital food?” Tommy says, grossed out and you laugh.

“We have a cafeteria and the food is ok, plus I forget to eat most of the time anyway. But seriously, your mom’s food is to die for. That’s just an expression, obviously”

“She made cookies. Can we have some?”

You look at the clock, and it’s almost 8.

“Alright, one for each”

The twins cheer, eating their pasta and asking you questions, most of them innocent, until…

“Why don’t you have kids?”

You choke on your drink, the boy blissfully unaware of how awkward you feel.

“Oh, well, Tommy… being a surgeon takes a long time. You have to go to school for a lot of years and then work at a hospital. So, there’s not a lot of time left to do other stuff”

Please don’t ask me how babies are made.

Thankfully, the questions stop once you give them a cookie, and they munch on them as you set up the game.

“He’s a dragon!” Billy says, amazed at the little purple creature prancing around the screen. They laugh when Sparks eats the butterflies and you can’t help the grin that’s on your face, remembering your childhood and how you used to spend your days playing.

“Your turn” you hand the control to Tommy, showing him the basic commands. Billy leans against you, asking some questions about the game.

You hold the control on the right side so he can push the buttons on the left once it’s his turn, enjoying the way they celebrate each time they get a chest full of diamonds.

The music of the game is very soothing, and after an hour playing, they’re both struggling to keep their eyes open. One glance at the clock tells you it’s 9:30, so the timing is perfect.

“Anyone tired?”

“No” Tommy lies.

“Really? I was thinking of trying out how strong I am, carrying both of you upstairs”

That makes them giddy and before they can run away, you carry them over your shoulders. The twins kick and scream, laughing as you go up the stairs.

“I’m so strong” you say as you reach the final step, trying to hide how out of breath you are.

“Now go down the stairs!"

“Uh, pass. Brush your teeth, come on” you say.

“Can we wait for mommy to be back?” Billy says before going inside the bathroom.

“Sure thing. Change into your PJs and we’ll read a story while we wait for her”

Of course, by the time they’re tucked in and you’re reading from the book Tommy choose, both boys are struggling to stay awake.

By 9:45 you leave their room quietly, closing the door behind you and going back to the first floor.

Your body is finally catching up to the exhaustion of the day, but you clean the kitchen and scroll through your phone, reading updates for patients and a text from Carol asking about your next shift.

Just when you’re about to answer her, the front door opens. At first, Wanda makes some noise, but upon seeing the quiet in the house, she closes the door softly, removing her boots.

“Hey” you say, leaning against the wall, hands on your pockets. “Had fun?”

“Uh, sorta” Wanda makes a face and you raise an eyebrow. “It was a blind date that went horribly wrong”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” she walks up to you, and you appreciate how short she is, without the heels she’s always wearing. “The restaurant was awful, he was an ass, and I am never ever letting my coworkers set me up with someone again”

You laugh at that, shrugging your shoulders.

“That sucks, especially the part about the food”

“Yeah. I’ll just grab whatever from the fridge”

“Ok. The kids are asleep. We had dinner, played some games and they wanted to wait up for you but it was almost 10. I’ll... uh, leave you to it” you get distracted by the way Wanda bites on a strawberry, your eyes going to her lips.

“Oh, yeah, of course. You must be tired” she says and your mind must be playing you tricks because she sounds disappointed.

You make a face, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Sorry, I just… would you stay while I eat? It would be nice to have pleasant company while I pretend this date never happened”

“Sure. I can definitely have more of your pasta”

This time, Wanda pulls out a bottle of red wine, and you enjoy the taste of it along with the food she made. It feels like the fanciest meal you’ve had in ages, even if it’s just at your neighbours kitchen.

“What about you?” Wanda says between bites.

“What about me?”

“Do you date?” she says with a smile, sipping from her glass.

“No, not really. It’s hard to do it with my crazy work hours. And I’m not sure I’d date another surgeon”

“Why not?”

“Some of them are batshit crazy” you say, making Wanda laugh.

“Oh, this is the first time I’ve laughed this evening”

“Happy to be of service" you raise your glass. "I’m gonna be a doctor for a second and feed my curiosity. Who else has twins in your family?”

“Me”

“What?”

You’ve met her for two years and somehow, you never knew this?

“Yeah, I have a twin brother. He lives across the country” Wanda says.

“That sounds nice. Not the living away part, but having someone to grow up with” you say, thinking about your own childhood. Wanda waits for you to look up, and you explain yourself. “I was an only child, but then my mom remarried when I was eleven. She and her husband had more children but, I don’t know, I never felt part of it”

“Was it something they did?” Wanda says with a soft voice, her hand coming closer to yours.

“Uh, no. My mom’s really nice, and I’m sure she didn’t do anything on purpose… but of course you’ll turn your focus to your youngest children, that’s how it works. I try to be around but it doesn’t feel like I belong. So I’m better at the hospital, working the days away”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s fine, really. Maybe I’ll return her calls one of these days”

“Wow, now I feel special because you answer my texts” she jokes and you nod.

“You are special, Wanda”

The woman blushes, you biting your lip at the beautiful shade of red tinting her cheeks.

In spite of yourself, the alcohol relaxes you and you let out a yawn.

“Someone’s past their bed time”

“Yeah, yeah” you rub your eyes, standing up to wash the dishes.

“Let me” Wanda says, standing between you and the sink. For a moment, you consider pulling her closer and kissing her, but it’s probably the sleep depravation, or the alcohol making you delusional.

“Thanks, Wanda” you stay close, your eyes never leaving her face.

“Thank you, for taking care of them”

“Anytime” you nod, taking a step back before you act on your feelings.

“Text me when you’re home?” Wanda asks and you laugh.

“I live across the street”

“Yeah, but you had wine and you’re tired, one never knows in these cases”

“Fine” you linger on the threshold of the door, smiling as she looks at you. “Night, Wanda”

You wait until you’re home to pull out your phone, smiling as you type.

Y/N: Just got home. Traffic was horrible!

Wanda: Very funny.

Y/N: :)

Wanda: Night, Y/N

[yaoyaobae]

Its been awhile and i have another OC to share LOL gotta draw brain rots instead of keeping them in your head forever ☺️💖

Name: Aurore Dormir

School: Royal Sword Academy

Pastime: Escaping school to wander in the nearby forest, spending time alone

Hobbies: Sightseeing, Gardening, Fencing.

Family: Father, Mother , *Brother ( silver, please refer to the last note regarding my own theory)

Aurore is a third year student at RSA, currently house warden of the sleeping beauty inspired dorm.

Aurore is also the next king of the Kingdom of Heroes, which naturally made him the center of attention in RSA.

Unlike Malleus whose powerful aura pushes people away from him, Aurore draws people towards him as they feel a sense of security around him.

He was only recently enrolled into school during his second year as his family brought him back from isolation for training, far away from the world’s eyes.

At first glance, Aurore may seem like the ideal dream prince: Kind, Polite, Courageous, Strong and Smart as he is consistent in securing top grades across his cohort. But deep down, he isn’t exactly the perfect prince most of his peers think he is.

Aurore is actually afraid of strangers and overwhelming attention ( he was raised in isolation so meeting humans are.. yeah) He is skilled at hiding his weakness but starts blanking out if there are too many people crowding around him.

As a result, he finds happiness in spending time alone in places where no one recognises him. He usually takes a short stroll around Sage Island’s various forests when his caretakers aren’t looking.

Strangely, Aurore mentions that his enjoyment from lonely strolls only existed because he would suddenly find himself in unknown places as a child…as if something or someone was calling him. But he became mentally stronger as he got older and knows how to guard himself during his impromptu walks.

Bonus personal theory/lore:

Hi! So if you have been following me since i started creating twst ocs, you would be familiar with a certain comic i drew for an Aurora Oc ( its not exactly Aurore because i didn’t flesh him out) . But to sum up my theory for that comic:

There was once a powerful kingdom that clashed with briar valley, humans and fae did not get along as well back then.

Somewhere in between the war, both of the queen’s sons were cursed by a powerful magician and separated at birth. The queen initially wanted to send her two sons far away from the castle, but only managed to send one tucked away in a casket that drifted on a hidden river which led to a forest.

The war ended a few days later, with both fae and humans forming a truce. The queen fell into depression after realising that her second son probably did not make it and blamed herself for not keeping him a little longer had she known he would have been safe and alive in her arms.

Time heals wounds, and with some reassurance from the King the Queen got back up on her feet stronger for the sake of her people. Of course, sometimes the servants would catch a glimpse of the lonely Queen staring into the far forests wondering if she will ever see those small pair of Aurora coloured eyes again.

Because the Queen conceived her two sons alone away from the servants, only she and the King were aware of their other missing son. The three fairy advisors who had protected them from the very start told the Queen that if word of two cursed princes were to spread, the kingdom would be doomed to fall . The Queen had no choice but to accept this decision, and so they entrusted their only son to the three fairies in case the curse within him acts up. Hence Aurore was raised in isolation away from the world’s attention and only enrolled in his second year to prevent the curse from possibly manifesting.

In this story I created Silver is the missing prince in question who drifted far into the forest and eventually picked up by Lilia. His only proof of his royal status is a ring with an aurora coloured gem (Book 7 mention).

Regarding the curse: Silver was cursed to feel drowsy all the time while Aurore was cursed to follow a voice in his head which leads him to sleepwalk into dangerous places alone. Silver’s hair colour reminds me of the spindle/needle, so in a way he contains the sleeping curse. Like Aurora, Aurore is drawn into strange places by a voice and eventually to the spindle. Hence these two will always feel an unfamiliar sense of closeness to each other.

“Yao why do you think Silver would have a brother? Much less the RSA guy inspired by Aurora? Doesn’t Silver already have Aurora’s traits?”

In general this is just my own fun theory to think about, but my reasons are because i think it would be interesting if Silver canonically had living family member(s) from a royal family( that ring kinda tells all). It would also put him in place wondering if he should return to his biological human family or stay with his Briar Valley family as he feels a stronger bond with them. With the way TWST tackles issues about fae/human like Sebek from example, i would love to see Silver’s resolve for his found family.

In my old comic, the Aurora OC actually dislikes Fae because of the war. He especially hates Lilia because he believed the war criminal took his own brother away and is promoting peace despite his past.

I feel Aurore would dislike Lilia but eventually learns to see the war from both sides as humans aren’t all that great either, he is still a naive prince with much to learn about the world. So while Silver does have Aurora’s trait, Aurore may have some of King Stefan’s from Maleficent/OG film. TWST tends to combine diff character traits anyways🌝👍

Anyways I adore these two so much and am looking forward to Silver’s past in the future updates! Thank you for reading about Aurore, till next time 💖

[0omillo0]

Hai Riri ^^

So I've had this idea of Skz female 9th member reader and Hannie being in a secret relationship the other members don't know about yet, or at least they're kinda more than friends. And after a particularly long night of recording, the two of them are cuddled up on the studio couch and found in the morning. Let me know what you think <3

HAN X READER — our ‘not so secret’ secret

a/n: tysm for the request I loved it <3

synopsis : You are the newest member of Stray Kids, having joined the group as the ninth member. As the only female member, it’s been a whirlwind of emotions—navigating the dynamics, finding your place in the team, and balancing the ever-growing feelings you have for one of the members: Han Jisung. Despite your best efforts to keep things professional, you’ve developed a close bond with Han, and somewhere along the way, it crossed the line between friendship and something more. Late-night studio sessions have become your escape, where you both share whispered secrets, stolen glances, and the warmth of being next to each other.

Tonight was another one of those nights. After hours of recording, everyone else left to rest, but you and Han stayed behind, determined to perfect your parts. One thing led to another, and now, here you are, curled up on the studio couch together. His arm is wrapped protectively around you, his gentle breathing soft against your hair.

You drift into a peaceful sleep, unaware that morning will bring its own surprises.

˚୨୧⋆｡♡˚⋆

It was nearly dawn, and you and Han were still in the recording studio, the rest of the team having called it a night hours ago. After endless retakes and some playful banter, you both found yourselves sprawled on the studio couch, exhausted.

As your eyelids grew heavier, you felt Han’s arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close. You snuggled into him, finding comfort in his warmth as you both drifted off to sleep.

the next morning..

The quiet murmur of voices stirred you awake. Blinking your eyes open, you realized you were still nestled against Han, his arm securely around you. For a moment, you forgot where you were—until you heard someone clearing their throat.

“Uh… am I interrupting something?”

You looked up to see Chan standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised and an amused smile tugging at his lips. Han was still half-asleep beside you, oblivious to the world.

“Um, Chan!” you stammered, scrambling to sit up. “We were just—”

But before you could finish, Hyunjin poked his head into the room, immediately taking in the scene. His eyes went wide, and a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Oh. My. God,” he gasped dramatically. “Changbin, get in here! You’ve gotta see this!”

Changbin appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes as if he were still waking up. He took one look at you and Han, then let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “Are you two… cuddling?”

Han finally opened his eyes, looking around in confusion. “What? What’s happening?” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his face.

Hyunjin smirked, leaning into the doorway. “You two are looking pretty cozy there. Anything you wanna share with the class?”

Your face flushed, and you glanced at Han, who was now fully awake and sporting a sheepish grin. “Uh… well, you see…” he started, but Changbin cut him off with a mock scream.

“EVERYONE! COME QUICK! YOU WON’T BELIEVE THIS!” Changbin bellowed down the hallway, clearly enjoying every second of the chaos he was causing.

“Oh no, don’t—” you pleaded, but it was too late. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway as the rest of the members rushed toward the studio.

Minho was the first to arrive, followed closely by Seungmin and Jeongin, each of them looking more confused than the last. “What’s going on?” Minho asked, folding his arms as he eyed you and Han.

Hyunjin grinned, clearly relishing the attention. “Our two lovebirds here were all cuddled up together. Isn’t that right?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, smirking as he exchanged a glance with Jeongin. “Didn’t take you guys for the PDA type,” he teased.

Han shrugged, pulling you closer and giving the group an unapologetic grin. “We just… got comfortable.”

Jeongin covered his mouth, failing to suppress a laugh. “Comfortable? Dude, you’re practically glued together! You almost had YOUR lips on HER lips!!!”

You buried your face in your hands, laughing despite yourself. “Alright, alright, you caught us. No need to make a whole production out of it.”

Minho chuckled, giving you both an approving nod. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You two have been giving each other heart eyes for months.”

“Heart eyes?” you echoed, looking over at Han with a grin. “I thought we were being subtle!”

“Not subtle enough!” Hyunjin teased. “You two were about as subtle as a train wreck.”

Han laughed, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “Well, I guess we’re busted.”

Chan stepped forward, clapping a hand on Han’s shoulder. “Hey, no worries. We’re happy for you guys—just keep it chill around the fans, alright?”

Changbin nodded, feigning seriousness. “Yeah, because if they find out, I don’t want to deal with the chaos. I’m too young to be trampled by a mob of angry fans!”

Everyone burst into laughter, the tension melting away as you all settled into the lighthearted moment. You looked around at your teammates, relieved by how accepting they were and grateful for their teasing support.

Jeongin pointed to the couch and smirked. “But, for real, can we keep the couch for napping and not… whatever this was?”

You and Han exchanged a glance, grinning as you scooted apart. “Deal,” Han said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But no promises about late-night studio sessions.”

Minho rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile on his face. “Just remember, we’re watching you two.”

Han chuckled, pulling you in for one last side hug before everyone started to leave. “I guess we’ll just have to get better at sneaking around.”

As the group dispersed, Chan gave you both a knowing wink. “Looks like we’ve got another couple in the Stray Kids family. Dude you gotta stop cheating on your wife ‘Hyunjin’”

You laughed, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you as you realized how lucky you were to have found not only Han but also a family who supported you both—quirks, secrets, and all.

[afterglowkatie]

security nightmares | k.m./c.f.

katie mccabe x caitlin foord x child!reader | 2.5k | things don't go as planned at one of the arsenal matches leading you to have a nightmare later that night

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of my new little starfish universe. depictions of starfish's nightmare are included in this, not too much detail but yeah <3 thank you for being so patient while i took a break. i love that you love starfish sm

Match days on their own could be quite overwhelming and full on, let alone match day in a whole different country. By now you were used to travelling on planes and going to different places, but you were only really used to doing that with the Ireland team. You couldn’t really remember travelling with the Arsenal girls that many times. You knew how travelling with Ireland worked, plus travelling on planes with Ireland was a lot more common than travelling with Arsenal so everything was bound to run more smoothly with Ireland than Arsenal. 

Your mammy had tried her best to make sure travelling with Arsenal would be the same or at least quite similar so it wouldn’t throw you around too much. But she was still constantly stressing over you. You weren’t the type of kid to really be too phased by travel or new countries, being surrounded by different languages and all that. You were quite used to it all, it was all you knew.

But there were obviously things that no one could control and whenever you were going somewhere new your mammy always stressed and worried extra about you, ‘Yes mammy, stop asking I still have it,’ You had a pout on your face and almost rolled your eyes when your mammy asked you, for what felt like the millionth time, if you had your backpack and if you had your pass on you. Your pass was important, since it told security who you were and if you got separated from either Katie or Caitlin then you were able to, with the help of security, find your way back to them.

Not that it’s ever happened, you being separated from them, but as your mammy said, it’s better to be safe and you can never be too careful, ‘Hey, starfish, this is important, okay? It’s not like we’re just at the Emirates where everyone knows who you are, this is completely different and I need to keep you safe,’ Your eyes softened and you lost your pout and attitude when your mammy brought out her serious voice.

You nodded and gave your mammy a hug, ‘I’m sorry mammy,’ 

‘I just want to keep my little starfish safe, I love you,’ Katie smiled and held you tighter, picking you up and sitting you on her hip while walking towards the change rooms.

From the atmosphere in the change rooms you could tell that today was a bit more of an important match than some of the other ones you had been to, ‘Goodluck Caity,’ You had wandered over to Caitlin after she’d finished putting on her boots, ‘Gonna get goals against them,’ You tried to swing your leg in a way to pretend you were kicking a ball just like Caitlin but you ended up falling over backwards in the process.

‘Whoops, you alright starfish?’ Caitlin was quick to help pick you back up, brushing off and flattening your little dress back out, ‘Gotta be careful starfish,’ You both laughed it off and you wrapped your arms around Caitlin’s neck giving her a hug before you were all being ushered out of the room and into the tunnel. 

‘Looks like you’re stuck with me starfish,’ Both your mammy and Caitlin were starting today so you had to go with one of the others who wasn’t starting and unfortunately for your mammy and Caitlin, Kyra had been the one who would look after you while you all sat on the bench. 

‘Oh no,’ You dramatically sighed out, throwing your head back covering your eyes with your little hands. Though as hard as you tried, your facade cracked easily and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘You know you love me,’ Kyra poked at your sides before taking your hand so she wouldn’t lose you on the walk out, knowing that she wouldn’t want to face either Katie or Caitlin if she did lose you from her sight. 

‘Ky Ky look!’ You held your connected hands up excitedly wanting her to twirl you around so you could show her the jersey you were wearing. Normally you would wear a mini version of your mammy’s jersey but you’d been asking lately to have one with Caitlin’s number and name and today you finally had gotten one to wear at the match.

‘Oh look at you,’ Kyra smiled while you skipped slightly next to her, ‘When are you gonna wear mine to a match?’ Kyra joked but also knowing Kyra she would get you to wear one of hers just to mess with Katie.

‘Only wear mammy’s and mum’s,’ You beamed proudly, Kyra’s steps faltered a little, taking in the slight shock realising that you were referring to Caitlin as your mum. 

It’s something that Kyra had brought up to Caitlin one day when they had a moment to themselves at training, if you had or would ever call her mum or something along those lines. It was something that Katie and Caitlin had talked about but Caitlin never wanted to pressure you into calling her anything other than what you were comfortable with.

A small smile spread across Kyra’s face but she knew to not make a big deal over it, not until Caitlin was the one that told her about it. She didn’t want to spoil that moment between you and Caitlin. Also since Kyra was definitely sure you hadn’t said it to Caitlin yet, or others would definitely know by now.

When Kyra was being subbed on she made sure you were safe and being looked after. But nothing ever really goes as planned. It was an important win and when the final whistles went everyone was lost in the heat of the win. Enough that you weren’t noticed when you jumped off your seat and wandered away from the bench.

You were excited to see your mammy and Caitlin after the match. Caitlin had scored a goal and you wanted to give her a hug as soon as you could. But before you could make your way onto the pitch and towards them, like you were normally able to, you were stopped by security. None of the security had seen where you’d come from and just assumed you had come from the stands and were just a fan of the players.

‘I want my mammy,’ You yelled out towards the security guy, a little cry escaping your lips. He’d stood in front of you, quite tall and scary and blocking your view so you couldn’t see your mammy anymore. 

He was talking to you but you weren’t listening, just crying out for mammy or Caitlin just anyone to come save you. You’d forgotten your backpack where you were sitting on the bench otherwise you could show him that you belonged where you were. Then when his hand touched your shoulder, trying to escort you away from the players is when you become hysterical.

‘Get your hands off her,’ You weren’t in the head space where you could hear anyone’s voice and you missed when Caitlin came over shoving the security away from you, ‘That’s my daughter,’ Caitlin and Katie were going around looking for you when they noticed you hadn’t made your way to them and you weren’t still on the bench.

The next thing you knew you were in Caitlin’s arms, she was rubbing your back, whispering little ‘You’re okay starfish, you’re safe,’ While she took you away from the pitch, away from everyone and down the tunnel.

When your mammy reached the two of you she had some choice words to describe the security guy after Caitlin told her what she’d seen. Choice words that you’d never be allowed to repeat. 

‘I’m sorry Caity,’ You cried out, burying your head further into Caitlin’s neck and wrapping your arms as tight as they could around her, ‘I didn’t mean to forget my backpack, I know it’s important. I’m sorry,’ You were calming down enough that you could string together sentences again, even if your voice was still so soft and muffled by your tears.

‘Hey, shh, it’s okay starfish. Me and mammy, we aren’t mad at you,’ Caitlin kept rubbing her hand over your back soothingly, ‘We’re both just glad you’re okay and safe with us again,’ You calmed down almost completely, letting Caitlin’s soft voice and words soothe you. You were just glad to be back with them.

‘I’m gonna go get her things, you gonna be okay?’ You heard your mammy’s voice, it was softer than usual, the kind of voice she always saves for when you’re upset or tired. In a few years you’d find it amusing how your mammy’s voice can be so strong and bold but then so different when it comes to you. Something you’ll always appreciate.

‘Yeah, we’ll be fine. I’ve got her,’ Caitlin had sat you both down at her cubby, wrapping you up in one of her hoodies.

‘I love you,’ Katie placed a soft kiss on Caitlin’s temple, rubbing her arm softly, ‘And I love you my little starfish,’ You gave your mammy a small smile, Katie met you with a sad smile when she saw how red your eyes were. She gave you a kiss on your forehead and a little hug as best she could with how you were positioned and left to go get your backpack and anything else you had left behind.

Before the girls started filtering into the change rooms, Katie had already told them what had happened, Caitlin was grateful that everyone kept their distance and didn’t overwhelm you. Some of the girls silently checked with Caitlin to make sure you were okay before going about their post match routines. 

It wasn’t long before your mammy joined you both. She was glad to see you weren’t crying anymore and had settled yourself, but she still wiped a little under your eyes and rubbed your cheek softly. It was obvious you had exhausted yourself, the way your eyes were half closed, the small pout on your face, how you weren’t really present and focused on your surroundings and the way you were leaning into Caitlin.

You didn’t leave Caitlin’s arms, not on the way to the bus and not once when Caitlin was seated on the bus, all the way back to the hotel you were all staying at. On the bus your mammy had given you your favourite starfish toy you’d brought with you and once you had that safely tucked in your arms, along with the comfort of Caitlin’s hoodie you had on, you were out like a light. 

‘Thank you for taking such good care of starfish,’ Katie whispered to Caitlin once they’d both slipped into their bed. In the hotel room you were staying in, your bed was in the same room just a little bit from their bed. They were able to get a bigger room that had a separate space for you but for Katie’s peace of mind, they opted for a room where you were in the same space as them. 

‘You don’t have to thank me, she’s my daughter too,’ Caitlin opened her arms, pulling Katie into her embrace.

‘I know,’ Katie whispered, looking over to where you were sleeping before looking up at Caitlin, ‘You’re just so good with her. I don’t know how we got so lucky,’ Katie smiled softly, cuddling more into Caitlin.

‘I’m the one who got lucky to have you both in my life,’ They both shared a small kiss before following you in falling asleep, your mammy taking a bit longer while she watched over you for a bit to make sure you were sleeping okay before she went to sleep.

Your sleep had started out promising, until it went downhill. Luckily for you, you never did have nightmares all that often. But unlucky for you is that when you did, they felt like the worst dreams in the world since you weren’t used to them. The dream seemed like it was a good dream, you were at the match watching your mammy and Caitlin play but then suddenly they were gone. They were gone and you were calling out for them, calling out for anyone to help you but no one could hear you. No one could see you and you couldn’t find your mammy or your mum.

Suddenly you were all alone. The world felt cold and you were on the ground holding your legs to your chest until some big, tall scary looking man loomed over you. In your bed you were tossing and turning, your arms thrashing around and when you woke up it was dark and you couldn’t see your mammy or your mum.

Already close to tears the moment you woke up, the dark room and feeling like you were still alone and left behind sat like a weight in the bottom of your stomach. You burst out in tears, crying out. Trying to call for your mammy or your mum but nothing other than loud cries were coming out.

Instantly at the sound of your cries, Katie and Caitlin both sat up. Your mammy frantically tried to turn on a bigger light while Caitlin made her way over to you. Caitlin took your little body, as gentle as she could so she wouldn’t frighten you, into her arms gently rocking you and soothing you.

A frown spread across Caitlin’s face as you cried out, making out the words, ‘Don’t leave me,’ ‘Was all alone,’ ‘Couldn’t find you,’ while you cried harder and your little hands fisted her shirt tightly. 

‘Shh, it’s okay starfish. You’re okay. You’re safe, me and mammy are right here,’ Caitlin spoke softly into your ear, over and over, hoping that her words would eventually break through and you would start to calm down.

Your mammy sat beside you both, her hand rubbing up and down your back, letting Caitlin take the lead. If Katie started talking too she knew it would only overwhelm you and make everything worse, but her presence was enough especially when you would start to calm down and be present enough to know she was also right there.

‘We’ll never leave you or let anyone take you away from us,’ You’d calmed down a lot to the point your cries were just little hiccups, ‘You’re our little starfish and we love you so much,’ 

‘Promise?’ You sniffled looking up at Caitlin, a little pout on your face.

‘Pinky promise,’ Caitlin held her pinky up towards you, letting go of her shirt you linked your own with Caitlin’s. Once you were ready, Caitlin gently moved you over to her and Katie’s bed. Your mammy already had your starfish toy waiting for you while Caitlin placed you in the middle. 

‘Love you mammy,’ Your voice was small, tiredness evident. You turned your head so you were facing and cuddling into Caitlin’s side, ‘I love you mum,’ You were safe and most importantly you were back with your mammy and your mum.

[greenygal]

POV: You are Dimo. You are a Jäger, one of a group who are ferociously loyal to their Heterodyne masters and famously social with each other. You have always had these touchstones to lean on.

Except…suddenly there aren’t any Heterodynes. Everything is in chaos and a mysterious enemy is ravaging Europa. For everyone’s sake, the Jägergenerals make a deal to serve under a new master, Baron Wulfenbach.

Except…the Jägers are still loyal to the House of Heterodyne. So to honor that loyalty, you volunteer to go looking for a Heterodyne. You know, in case one is hidden behind the couch cushions or whatever. And it’s rough! You are officially detached from the Jägers. You can’t come back unless you find a stray Heterodyne, whom you have no reason to think actually exists, so you’re probably going to be out here forever or until you die. Which is a real possibility, because everybody in Europa hates Jägers due to all those centuries serving some of the worst sparks in Europa. (Which, all right, is fair, but still. It’s hurtful.) But you have your fellow volunteers, a little squad of three. You have another Jäger, Jenka, checking in periodically and generally riding herd. And somewhere out there are the rest of the Jägers and the Jägergenerals, doing fine. And over the years you adapt to independence; you learn to plan, and you even find yourself giving orders to the others sometimes.

And then you find an actual Heterodyne, holy shit! She’s eighteen, alone, and green as grass, but she’s got steel in her spine and she’s a crazy strong spark; you have a new mistress! Best day ever!

Except…she gets implanted with the mind of The Enemy. That’s not great. (This happened to her after you found her. You Have Failed Your Heterodyne. ETA: Also you only know about it because you listened sneakily at the door. You’re not sure this is proper Jäger behavior.) But never mind that, she’s got it under control, you all get to Mechanicsburg and she kicks ass and does SCIENCE! and fixes the Castle and reclaims the city and at the end of it she is secure as the new Heterodyne of Mechanicsburg.

Except…

Except then something happens to Mechanicsburg. Is it permanent? Dunno. But the Heterodyne was in there. The Jägergenerals were in there. Anyone in authority in Mechanicsburg was in there. Even Baron Wulfenbach was in there.

A bunch of Jägers were not in there. And they don’t know what to do without someone giving them orders, and…look, you didn’t mean to become a General. Honest. But Jenka’s off monitoring the situation in the rest of Europa, and the only remaining Jägergeneral has somehow gone undercover on the personal staff of the new Baron. They gotta be where they are, and you gotta be where you are, managing dozens of increasingly desperate Jägers and human refugees and trying to figure out what the fuck to do next.

And then the Heterodyne shows up somehow! All is not lost! She’s determined to fix everything! And someone else can be in charge now! Yay!

Except…remember the Enemy? Yeah. She’s still in the Heterodyne’s head. There are things that aren’t safe for her to know. So you have to keep secrets from your Heterodyne, and manage those things yourself without her catching on. It’s hard, but you do it. You do it so well, in fact, that you have a sinking feeling that people are just going to keep asking you to be responsible for things. You’re doomed.

POV: You are Dimo, and you need a drink. And a vacation.

…you’ll probably get the drink?

[xo-cori]

Ellie is sooooo into sneaking around and secretly fucking you in public but Abby is a complete opposite she just wants you all only because only her can hear and see you because you’re hers. Idk how I think Dina would be!!!

kissing and hope they caught us

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: the best way to prove that somebody is yours is to show them off.

warnings: smut (MDNI), exhibitionism, ellie being a cocky little shit

a/n: lord forgive me

All you can feel is her hands, everywhere.

Her fingers reach somewhere deep inside you as the palm of her hand covers your mouth, muffling all of your pretty noises only because she’s not sure how it’d sound to an outsider. After all, the two of you are cramped in an almost pitch black laundry room, the dim blue LED lights from the living room barely creeping in through the slits of the unlocked door. She’d been staring at you all night, though. She could bear not seeing you for a few minutes.

“Gotta be quiet,” Ellie mutters, “don’t want anyone walking in, do you?”

She expects to get some sort of reaction out of you, but you only clench down around her fingers at the thought of it. You grasp at the edge of the washing machine for some support, knees barely holding you up now, and Ellie doesn’t even try to hold in her laugh. “Oh, you would fuckin’ like that.”

You let out a low whine, though she can still hear it over the loud music just down the hallway. She moves her hand from your mouth so she can bring her lips to yours, working to swallow all of your moans that couldn’t be held back even if you tried. You weren’t trying, though. Not one bit. You gasp into the kiss as her fingers curl up, thumb pressing down onto your clit in a steady rhythm that has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. It’s embarrassing how close you are after just a few minutes alone with Ellie. She does unspeakable things to you, and seems to have a habit of making a mess out of you no matter where you are.

Bathrooms, closets, backseats. It’s a thrill that she chases, that gives her just as much pleasure as she gives you– if not more.

You haven’t been caught, yet, but you’re starting to think that it’s only a matter of time. Luck runs out quicker the more you abuse it.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, grabbing onto her hair in a vain attempt to ground yourself. Your heart pounds in your ears to the beat of the music and she swears she can feel it against her own chest.

“Remember what I said, yeah? Quiet.” Ellie says. Regardless, her thrusts have somehow gotten faster and the speed dizzies you. Your head falls forward into her shoulder, pressing your mouth into the fabric of her sweatshirt to cover up the sound of another whine– it’s her name, she realizes, still quite loud despite your efforts.

She fucks you through our orgasm until you reach down to grab her wrist, halting her thrusts, mumbling something about it being too much, and she finally pulls out of you. You keep yourself tucked safely in her shoulder as you try to catch your breath.

Ellie lets you rest for a moment and takes the opportunity to lick the wetness from her pruned fingers, suddenly wishing that she’d taken you to a more secure area so that she could’ve tasted you properly– a regret she finds herself having often when you find yourselves in these situations.

After a few long moments, she gently grabs your chin and makes you look up at her, just barely able to see her eyes through the darkness. “Damn. I’m ready to go home if you are.”

Though you normally would’ve felt bad for leaving a party so early, you can’t imagine anything here better than what awaits you back home (or, if Ellie’s feeling to impatient, right there in the car). “I’ve been ready since we got here,” you huff.

“Do you think Dina’s gonna be mad?” She asks, eyebrows furrowing with a fickle concern that could easily be erased.

“Jesse brought Fireball, Els. She’s probably not gonna remember she even had this party.” You reply, to which she hums in agreement. Your friend isn’t exactly known for being able to handle her liquor, and you’d both seen her drink quite a bit of it within the span of a few hours. If she isn’t hunched over a toilet bowl by now, she’s probably going to keep drinking until she is.

So, Ellie kneels down to help you pull your shorts back up as you readjust your shirt to look more presentable; to make it look like you’d been doing anything but getting fucked in a laundry room.

You know, deep down, the thought of anyone finding out is only turning you on more.

[unicyclehippo]

ok so i submitted a story for a competition & didn't get far but i was pretty happy with it so imma post it here for y'all. pls enjoy!

YEAR OF THE WOLF

Blood and shampoo wash pink down the shower drain. My body aches, back hot with pain. I gotta stretch more, I think, before remembering what time of month it is.

I’m not stupid, I want that to be known up top.

Tired? Yes. A bit forgetful now and then? Certainly. Overly reliant on blind optimism? Of course. Who can afford for things to go wrong these days? But stupid? No. Not about this, anyway. I’ve known for almost a decade that I’m a werewolf. I just thought if I ignored it long enough it would stop, or at least stay low on the list of important things I had to deal with—somewhere between turning thirty and the world burning down around our ears.

Still, it manages to take me by surprise each month. I see the blood, feel the shift-pull-crack of bones and vitals, the wet throb of viscera and organs, as my body reshapes itself. The wolf and I share a space not big enough for two; something must give way.

I lose time daydreaming about it. Transforming. My only plan for the day is work, maybe video games later, cooking dinner. I could call in sick. I could clear away the bathmat and towels and fall to my hands and knees and change into something bloody and terrible and wonderful, I could lay myself down on the soft carpet in the sunrays, decadent, I could leap from my balcony, powerful, and lope away into the bush off the track to explore the silver-blue of the leaves and the cathedral termite mounds, I could—

The shower pipes groan, rattle, and spit freezing water down onto me.

I don’t transform.

I towel off. The mirror shows me a human with the same soft features as ever. Shampoo suds clinging to my shoulders. Hair cut short and plastered down on chalk-white skin paler than usual. The doctor warned me low iron was a side-effect of transformation but I look myself over for another cause. Lift my arms, twist to check my back. There’s a pimple or two where my binder digs in but no injuries. I promise the doctor in my head I’ll bring it up at our next appointment.

My doctor is a careful woman, dedicated and precise. She sits primly and dresses well—her blouse is fashionable, flowery, her trousers professional and practical. She keeps notes in a leatherbound book and her thoughts securely behind her eyes. She asked me to keep track of any changes Inoticed. I pull out a crumpled receipt where I’d scrawled some notes.

tired

hungry

headaches

more dreams than usual

tired—oh I already wrote that down. still true

irritated way more by stuff?

jaw hurts?

‘Alright,’ she says, writing it down on her page about me.

I sit hunched opposite her, then fix my posture, then let my shoulders droop again, conscious of being too broad, too big. In the time it takes for her to commit a few brief notes to paper, I’m struggling not to get distracted by the lights and their electric buzz—the popping stop and start as the filaments crackle in the bulbs. My eyes wander over neat stacks of paperwork, a penholder with all the pens pointed in the same direction.

‘We’re going to order a blood test. You’re right, the fatigue and headaches could be an indicator of iron deficiency.’

‘Okay.’

‘Do you know if there’s a history?’

‘Of…iron deficiency?’

She smiles. ‘Of lycanthropy.’

The question makes my head spin. There’s been some excitement about there being some genetic predisposition to lycanthropy (unconfirmed), which half my friends were leery of, seeing the research as another way for hunters to exterminate us, and half took to romantic spirals, daydreaming about their ancestors being just like them. But the doc is asking about, like, my parents and grandparents, and it makes me laugh.

‘No. No way.’ I think harder. Is it possible? My maternal grandparents, definitely not. But my dad’s parents…I don’t know that well. ‘I could ask, maybe.’

After the three haphazard sessions we’ve had stretching across eleven months, which chiefly feature my repeated and sustained reluctance to talk, she indicates her doubt with a quiet raised brow.

It’s fair. I don’t tend to do things I don’t want to do, even if they’re important. Sometimes, especially if they’re important.

At the end of our fifteen-minute session, she walks me to the door and beneath the stench of eucalyptus-scented cleaner that makes my nose itch and head ache, I catch a whiff of her cologne. Wood pine and wild.

I think about it all day.

Has she helped me because she’s like me? The thought races ahead of me, tempting; I sprint after it. I wonder what she wears at home. Does she google boxers for bed because they seem so comfortable? Does she veer at the last moment to Boyfriend shorts! Now in satin – for HER! Or does she kick the world off at the front door next to her shoes and just…exist. Is she like me? Just a person who does things? Or is she a woman who does things? Or a person who does woman things or a woman who does womanly things or a woman who does things knowing they’re not womanly and caring or not caring? Does she splinter the cage that would contain her and let the hungry animal of her body carry her to meat and sleep and hunting and to the warmth of her partner at rest?

Is she like me?

As a kid, I wanted to take karate. My brother wanted to sing. Somehow, I ended up in the music class. It was in a demountable that creaked, off-key, with every step and stunk of the creek next door. The singing teacher had a red round face and told me not to sing too loud—I was practicing to be part of the choir, I should be part of the group. That group was made up entirely of nervous and near-silent girls who shivered with the desire above all else not to stand out. (I learned that part well.)

On the other side of school, my brother stood in karate class with a teacher who ignored him and older boys who picked on him—he was short back then, with baby fat still on his cheeks, and had a close relationship with boredom and distraction that came from being smarter than most.

Once we figured out the joke being played on us, our places switched, we made a pact to teach each other what we learned. It didn’t last. Within three lessons, I spent more time on the walk to the classroom than in class; I dawdled in the fields and by the creek, tracking beetles and digging for dinosaur bones in the mud. When I did arrive, it was twenty-five minutes late with dirt under my nails and finally the teacher told me not to show up. My brother took a faster approach and called the teacher a moron. Mum had to pick him up early from class and neither of us learned very much.

My gran lives hours away and I never got the impression she liked me much. I think about sitting in her drawing room, the sticky-sugar smell from bottles of fancy port on the shelf, and her sitting opposite, eyes hawklike, mouth pursed and tongue sharp. I don’t visit her. I think about asking my dad instead and, while he does like me, he doesn’t like werewolves and I’m not ready to risk exile.

I get my blood drawn. The doctor prescribes iron pills and congratulates me on my teeth coming in.

My mother doesn’t like my sharp teeth or short hair or the way I sit. I want to tell her I didn’t do anything to my teeth; that if anyone is to blame for the handsome jut of my canines, the neat, careful way they can tear flesh from bone, it’s her. She made me. But saying stuff like that only opens up the room for more questions.

‘Do you like it? Looking like that?’

It will hurt her if I say yes. When you are a daughter, wanting to change means you don’t want to become your mother, which means you don’t love her.

I can’t say no.

The wolf stirs. It wants me to say yes. It loves fiercely and loves me most of all. But it isn’t the one who has to live here—work, be a daughter, a sister. It won’t be the one who has to listen to my mother tell me to be sure before I tell anyone else because there’s no going back and people will hate me for it, just for being, and that she can’t support me doing that to myself, that it’s against the god she’s never thought twice about, and has someone talked me into it?

I’m not ready for that.

‘It’s just teeth,’ I say.

She shakes her head but doesn’t ask any more questions. I think she’s scared I’ll tell her the truth.

am i a coward?

My friend Luna takes a long while to answer.

While I wait, I wash the dishes I’ve been “soaking” for three days; the kitchen smells of dish soap when I’m done and the world is a little cleaner. Outside, my balcony is drenched in sunlight. I make my coffee and sit out there, turning my nose to the wind. Somewhere close by, someone is cooking chicken loaded up with paprika. It’s more accurate to say they’re burning chicken. Next door, my neighbour digs through the rich dirt of their garden and plants rosemary and lavender.

My phone lights up.

No, she says. Then, Why do you ask?

the whole werewolf thing. i won’t transform, wont tell my family.

This reply is much faster. Definitely not.

i feel like one

First of all, you transform when it’s right & as much or little as you want & that changes from person to person. Second, being safe is not cowardly.

yeah

Do you want to tell them?

The coffee is gorgeously strong. After a few gulps, I feel like someone has brushed the cobwebs out of my head.

it’s like. there’s this version of me in their heads that isn’t real yknow. like im not a person im a cloud in person shape & sometimes they get a glimpse of my hand or whatever. & its safe inside the cloud its harder to hit me but . they cant see me

Mm

sorry i know this is teenager shit

In the distance, a fire alarm starts to blare.

No it’s good. I get it, obviously. And you know my parents were awful when I told them but we go running every month now. The question isn’t “am I a coward”. The question is, are you prepared to confront that version of yourself in their heads? Are you ready for it to change?

i wish i knew. how it would change i mean. bc i feel like if i knew for Sure that they would take it badly then that’s one thing & i could deal w that. & if i knew theyd be fine w it i could deal with That but. i don’t know. & its freaking me out. but it’s also like…ok i don’t live w them, i’ve got a job, idont rely on them for anything. what real bad consequences could there be?

Dots pop up at the bottom of the screen. They disappear after a minute, then reappear, as Luna takes her time to answer. Finally, she says,

By announcing the real version of yourself, you open yourself up to vulnerability. Things that didn’t bother you before will feel uncomfortable or hurt because it touches you. And when you change the way that you exist in the eyes of people who are supposed to love you unconditionally, you invite the possibility that they will reveal the love was in fact conditional & not for you, that you somehow failed to live up to the person they imagined you to be

mate i’m already scraping the bottom lol

You’re wonderful, Luna says, because she can tell when a joke isn’t really a joke. Her worst trait. If they can’t see that, it doesn’t mean it’s not true.

yeah

You don’t have to tell everyone. You could pick whoever would take it best & get someone on your side. When I take too long to answer, Luna sends a string of photos—her dogs, her family in matching hiking shirts, the view of the nearly full moonon her side of the world. I’m on your side, she says. Always. Let me know how it goes.

The full moon burns, beckons. We are both gloriously awake this time. I have never been more awake. The sky is a black lake and when it rains we taste space and stars and smog. The stairs are slick with the rain. On all fours we are sure, quick, eager! The grass is waiting for us! Splendid! Everything is incandescent in silver, including me. The grass—dew-wet, green scent full in our nose—invites us to roll in it, sticks its seedlings to our fur, tagalongs on our adventure. We run! Smell everything! ticklegrass wetmoss possum pee BUG rough brick mud SPIKY plant big tree lavender dog smell road gutter old leaves bird feathers vinegar shARP on my tongue bag crinkles between our teeth

The days’ heat still smoulders on the surface of the road. We are standing in the centre of it, massive, when a car crests the hill. It stops, engine rumbling and blue-glare lights illuminating us. It waits for us to cross the road before driving on. The driver stares from their seat. In one easy jump, we clear the fence and disappear.

Three more streets and the road ends. The world is huge, bigger than I could have imagined. There’s dirt here! dirt mud rocks beetles scuffling under the leaves koala musk leads to claw marks at the base of trees.

The wolf likes it when I’m awake. It wants to show me the world. Look, its questing nose says, look what you miss out on when you sleep.

It takes us to a termite mound and we listen to them sing.

We stay out all night, trekking through the pocket of national park. I am the biggest thing in the forest. Nothing frightens me. We find a creek filled with every fascination the world has to offer. Ten thousand wet stones, bottle caps, an ill-tempered fish.

When the sun rises, I am sore and covered in blood. I call my brother to pick me up. I stand by the edge of the park to wait for him; at the bottom of the hill, the highway stretches out like a grey branch, cars buzzing along it like bugs. A firefly splits off from it, flying towards me.

The yellow of the headlights cuts through the trees. Inside the car, my brother jumps when he sees me and the light reflecting off my eyes. The wolf is still awake and we move fast and strong to the passenger side door.

He knows.

I can tell. Smell it on him, see it in his uneasy posture. He knows and still I can’t say it. It feels like I’ve swallowed a bird whole, alive. It trembles, stuck in my throat. When I think about talking it pecks at my tongue and if I open my mouth, if I try to explain, he will see my bloody tongue and the bird and he’ll see me all wrong, all the ugly brutish parts of me I’d like to keep hidden, if I can.

The wolf is still awake. It isn’t scared; it is massive and powerful, it can bite through anything, it can run forever without getting tired. We can. And if there is ever a time to talk to my brother, to let him know who I am, it is now.

I do not want him to think I am a bloody-mouthed girl.

I want him to know I am not a coward. I am myself, a werewolf, alive and finally happy for it.

The wolf yawns. I catch a glimpse of my teeth in the mirror, sharp.

‘Hey.’ Of all the ways to break a very tense silence, it’s not the worst. ‘Thank you. For picking me up.’

He risks a look at me, away from the road. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah.’

A muscle tics in his cheek as he chews on silence. He’s upset that I won’t say more. So am I. I want to. The bird is in the way. I have always had to trick myself into talking; it is never easy, not in doctor’s office, not in my parents’ home, not in the forest, or my brother’s car.

We slow. Ahead, the traffic lights paint the dashboard red. The car shivers around us, idling. I can feel it shake through my bare feet, dirty and scratched up from the rocks, pressed to the rubber floor mats.

The first word comes out like a pulled tooth.

‘I—need to say.’ He glances my way. I think, briefly, about jumping out the window but the light turns green so I can’t. I have to talk instead. ‘I’m a werewolf.’

He drives. I realise he must have been waiting to talk, really talk, because this is the first time I’ve been in his car without music playing.

‘I think the proper term is lycanthrope,’ he says, finally.

‘Dude.’

‘Sorry. Just, medically speaking...’ He shakes his head. Drums his fingers against the wheel. ‘How long?’

‘I dunno.’ I do. A decade of knowing and doing nothing about it. Almost a year of thinking very hard about it and doing slightly more.

He knows me better than my doctor; both his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, entirely unconvinced.

‘I’m still me,’ I tell him, because that’s what everyone says in books and movies. I guess it’s what you’re supposed to say. What I want to say is that I’m more me than ever. What I want him to say is thank you, and I’m his favourite person, and that he understands how hard it was for me to share but he’s proud of me. But I would have to ask for that and the bird in my throat won’t budge.

‘Okay. Wow. So… Are you going to move? Change your name? Are you going to get claws? A tail?’

‘Okay, never ask me that again.’ He laughs. ‘And no. I don’t think so. I kind of like that it’s not super obvious. It’s no-ones business but mine.’

‘And mine now.’ I think he’s smiling, a little. ‘Why did you tell me? If you don’t want anyone to know?’

I wish I was still a wolf. If I were a wolf, I would howl and people would understand. The tenor, the tremble, the shivering cadence. There would be no need for picking the right words, no eye contact, no consequences for an ill-timed joke, no shame for feeling everything so big and weird, like there’s a forest in my chest and a songbird choir blocking up my throat. My hands itch as the claws retract under my skin and I fight to keep from scratching, fidgeting. I turn to stare out the window.

To his reflection in the glass, I say, ‘I want you to like me.’

‘Of course I like you—’

‘I’m louder like this,’ I whisper. He looks unconvinced, which is fair. I’m still hiding. ‘Messy. Bigger and stubborn and hairier and angrier. It’s not the wolf. I’m like that too. I wanna be like that. Real. I’m so—I’m so tired. All the time. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I want to be me and I want you to like me as me.’

My back aches as everything in me crunches back into place. The wolf is asleep and it has left me alone with my words and my brother.

‘I really love you,’ he tells me as he pulls up outside my house. He puts his hand warm on mine. He doesn’t flinch at the blood. He hugs me close. Plucks a leaf from my hair.

My brother offers to come with me to tell our parents. It probably would have been smart but I’m still wary. If it goes bad…I don’t want him to see that.

‘How did it happen?’ my mother asks when I’m done, like it’s something you can catch.

For a moment, I entertain the thought of lying.

Do you remember my uni friend? Verne? Well he’s part of a pack and if he brings in three new werewolves over three months, and they each bring in three new werewolves, he gets a bonus. Why? Are you interested in this exciting new life opportunity?

I can’t joke about it yet. Worst outcome, she thinks I’m serious about it being a some kind of cult. Less worse but still bad outcome, she thinks I’m being unserious about the whole thing. Nevermind that I have thought about it every day for ten years, this inevitable confrontation, this moment where I have to explain myself, defend my existence, back up my claims with proof and research like it’s my thesis. I tell her,

‘It just made sense.’

She likes that less than she would have if I’d joked about it, gets all stiff and pinched.

‘It doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t understand where this is coming from—you’re human. You’re not –‘ She shakes her head. ‘Maybe if you left the house more often. These things you’re imagining about yourself, if you were around more people…you’re not like that. You’re lovely,’ she insists. ‘You’re not that.’

It should hurt to hear. It probably does, in a way I’ll feel five years down the line, and I’ll wish that I had bit back, told her that just because she thinks there’s something wrong with me doesn’t make it true.

My dad hasn’t said anything.

When I look at him, he’s staring down at his plate. He eats everything on it, even the tomatoes he usually tries to hide under the broccoli stems. Then he stands, puts it in the dishwasher, and walks away.

‘It’ll pass,’ my mother tells me. ‘You’ll come to your senses. This won’t last—don’t do anything permanent. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.’

Don’t give in.

Don’t transform.

Don’t smile wide enough to show your teeth.

Don’t tell anyone else.

I realise I’ve been trying my hardest not to do anything, like being nothing would be preferable to being me. When did I get the idea that to starve would be better than anyone seeing me hungry?

‘I don’t want to hide anymore.’

‘But it’s no-one’s business,’ she insists. ‘I don’t understand why anyone needs to know, I mean, I don’t go around telling people I’m human.’

The words sound different coming from her mouth but they’re the same.

It’s no-ones business but mine. That’s what I told my brother and I thought I meant it but now I think I was still scared. Biting off bits of myself before anyone pulled out the silverware and cut it from me.

There’s a bird in my throat and the little bastard is choking me. It’s not fair. I don’t want to die without saying what I mean for once.

I bite down on it, blood between my teeth.

‘It’s not the same thing,’ I snap. There’s a gorgeous growl to my words I’ve never heard before. No one told me that would happen. I love it. I love the sound of my voice. ‘No one tries to kill you because you’re human.’

‘Exactly!’

When I stand up fast, chair scraping against the floor, she freezes. Caught between telling me to pick up the chair first and not knowing how to talk to a monster in her daughter’s skin.

It hadn’t occurred to me that telling the truth wouldn’t change just me.

Staring back at my mother, I find I don’t much like the woman I see. If that’s what awaited me, I’m glad to have changed. The world is huge and beautiful and painful and I am kinder, stronger, hardier for it.

I pick up my bag from the floor.

‘I’m the same person, it’s just now you know I’m a werewolf. When we went out for lunch last week? Werewolf. When I got you groceries when you were sick? Werewolf. Every birthday, holiday, every vacation we’ve had since I was nineteen? Werewolf.’

She looks sick. Puts a hand on the counter to steady herself.

When I get home, I’m going to curl up in my closet for a week. The bird is going to come back any second now with backup. Eagles, this time. ‘I’ve had a really long time to think about this and you haven’t so I’m - I’ll give you time. But you should know that I’m happy and healthy and safe. All the things you said you wanted for me.’

As I leave her house, maybe for the last time, I hope she’ll call. I don’t know if she will.

I have been sleeping better and dreaming more. In my dreams, I am always the same. I have a wolf head, with sharp teeth and keen eyes. I sing with a powerful voice that has unsettled for centuries. I cannot see my pack but I can hear them out there, howling. My body is the same; the only difference are the claw marks across my flat chest, red and raw and careful. I am not dead, only transformed.

[myownwholewildworld]

THE WAY TO A GREAT WIDE SOMEWHERE (a the mandalorian x beauty & the beast crossover) - SNEAK PEEK II

READ NOW HERE.

pairing: din djarin x f!reader. a/n: just a teeny tiny snippet because i can't just keep this to myself until i post it 🥲 i'm at 15k words, please keep me in your thoughts, i'm fighting wars over here. i'd like to have this posted next week but we'll see how fast i can type! thank y'all for the welcome (and the patience) this oneshot has gotten so far <3 warnings: 18+, mdni. suggestive talk heh. sensory deprivation. tags (if someone else wants to be tagged, please let me know): @baronessvonglitter @bishtrouille @natalieispunk

“Do you trust me, mesh’la?” his modulated voice was low and husky.

You nodded vehemently.

“I want to try something different this time,” he murmured, the rag twisting in his hands. “But you gotta promise me you’ll behave for me.”

“I will,” you promised, breath hitching in anticipation.

“I’m going to blindfold you and remove my helmet. But I have only two ground rules: you can’t take it off and you can’t touch my face. At all. No excuses. Are we clear?”

A rush of lustful excitement ploughed through your veins. You found yourself nodding again, your neck hurting.

“Use your words, cyar’ika (beloved).”

“Yes. Crystal clear, Din,” you mumbled, widened, almost adoring eyes staring at him. You hadn’t missed the endearment term, although he seemed to not have noticed.

“Good,” he curled one finger at you.

You sat back up, hands laced on your lap patiently waiting as Din blindfolded you with the damp rag. He secured it with a very tight knot on the back and made sure three times that it would not go anywhere.

“If you break your promise, I’ll have to kill you,” the threat was very real, not even a hint of joke in it.

Your mouth went dry and your clit irremediably pulsed ― your pussy was already wet and warm for him. You shouldn’t get off on a death threat, but apparently Din could reduce you to a slick, begging mess just like that.

“I-I won’t remove it. You have my word. Please.”

“Be a good girl for me and lay down on your back,” he commanded you and you happily obliged.

[webslingingslasher]

What if trouble was having like a crisis at a party or something, maybe like a panic attack and she either hides in a bathroom or runs to someone like Ethan or one of her friends and Peter finds her and is like ??? You didn't feel like you could come to me? And this is during the situationship so she feels like it's nothing more than sex or he's made it clear that's all he wants yk <3

you've been giving peter the cold shoulder all night.

you swore things were fine, but once you had a couple drinks in you, the annoyance of last week's argument hung over your head. peter knows it too. he's tried to be extra nice tonight, but you made sure to stay clear of him until you needed a refill.

'you wanna come hang with me and ethan for a sec?'

'nope, thanks for the drink. talk to you when i need a new one.'

the night took a drastic turn when you slipped away for the bathroom, finding yourself bouncing between bodies and flashing lights, vape clouds and screams, you break free and heave for air.

you tried to find solace in the bathroom, but you never noticed how small it felt. focusing on deep breaths until someone pounds on the door, 'hurry up! i need to pee!' it's a whined out by a person significantly more drunk than you.

there was no comfort or quiet where you went, your only option was backing up into a corner and holding a hand over your chest, doing your best to keep your heart from beating out.

you weren't sure how long had passed, but you felt like you had lead feet. everything was too much and you were shutting down, even if you wanted to move and make a break for peter's room, or the basement, you were stuck.

ethan finds you in a dark corner in the back of the house, he's unsure what you're doing at first, approaching like normal, his hand rubs your shoulder.

'doin alright, trouble?' when you gasp for air he tries to find your face, 'hey, you okay?'

you shake your head, 'i think i'm having a panic attack but i... i don't know why.' you lean into ethan’s touch as you slowly sink to the floor.

'shit, i... hey, want me to go get parker?' he's already moving, you pull at his hand. 'no. no, get ally or, or prince.' you tuck your face in your knees, doing your best to breathe deeply, while ethan looks for a friend.

skating  between bodies, he finds ally. she's with paul, who's with parker. doesn't matter, you're about to explode and you need her.

'ally, you gotta- ally we need to go. right now.' the urgency has her stepping forward, 'why? where are we going?' ethan breathes out your name, 'she's freaking out, i dunno. she said to get you.'

peter steps up, 'woah, what's going on?'

ethan has no time for it, he tugs on ally's arm, 'we gotta go.' ally sends peter a soft shrug before she's doing her best to keep up with ethan.

peter get's an achy feeling before following both of them, ally's already on her knees in front of you patting your hair. ethan's chewing on his nails when he notices peter, 'panic attack.'

it's all he needs to hear, peter crouches to your level. 'hey, trouble. want me to get you somewhere quieter?' your hand reaches for his on the floor, patting around until he holds it out for you. 'is that a yes?'

your breath is racing, your heart pounding, the noise is piercing and you can't move. you refuse to cry at a party in front of everyone, it’s why you're keeping your eyes squeezed shut.

you hate that he's here, that he's watching it go down, but you're so very thankful he's able to carry you to safety.

'i'm gonna pick you up, okay? i'm going to take you up these back stairs and into my room, is that okay?' you hold ally's wrist in your other hand. 'ally can come, she can stay the whole night in there with you, if you want.'

the tiniest of nods sent peter to move quicker than he ever has. he tapped your knees so you could stretch them down, an arm wrapped under your thighs and one behind your back, he secured you into his hold as he lifted you.

your hands clenched his shirt, it was less about it being peter and more to do with grounding yourself. tucking your head into his chest when he took the stairs two at a time.

'i'm rounding the corner, trouble. ally, wanna get the door for me?'

when his bedroom door shuts behind you it's dark, the music muffles. your heart rate lowers, it's like you can breathe better, no longer fighting to keep air.

peter gently sets you on his bed before crossing over to his windows, ripping the curtains open to let the moonlight fill his room. it's bright enough you can see everything.

ally holds you to her chest, 'oh my goodness, did you see something, or hear something?'

peter shakes his head, 'she was overstimulated.' your eyebrows furrow in ally's shirt, not even you had made that connection, but he did.

'ally,' peter didn't want to sound like a prick, but, 'maybe...' he made a pushing motion with his hand. 'maybe give her some space, just for a second.' she steps away, you feel so relieved from every ounce of pressure you had downstairs, you flop backwards onto peter's bed and sigh.

seconds pass, you feel embarrassed after breaking down in front of peter, especially when he made it clear he was in no rush to be your boyfriend, if ever.

you raise your head up to look at him, 'overstimulated, huh?' peter shrugs, 'i've been there too a few times.'

ally sat on the bed next to you, 'want me to play with your hair?' when peter said it, you felt it. you wanted to be alone in a dark room, maybe not totally alone, but you wanted someone who would just sit there until you needed them.

'um,' you stop her hand gently, 'would you mind if i said i kinda want to hang out with peter instead?' ally quickly stands, 'oh no, not at all! i totally get it, sometimes no one can comfort me like matty. text me if you need me, okay?'

you nod and wait until the door clicks, you pat the bed, waiting until peter sits before you talk.

'sorry. this is probably weird for you. i just know you don't care enough to talk to me or touch me so, you know, just chill here unless i quit breathing or something.'

you can hear nothing but muffled bass and shouts downstairs, it's a comfortable silence.

'hey, trouble, can i talk to you about something?' you hum in response, you can almost hear him thinking.

'i know you put a lot of emphasis on the boyfriend thing, and i know you hate it when i avoid it. but, i'm just not there yet. and i hate that dumb 'it's not you, it's me' stuff, but it is.'

you stay silent.

'and... i know i say dumb stuff a lot, but you are so much more than just a hookup to me. so when you hit me with the you don't care, it really, really hurts my feelings. because, i care about you a lot. i mean, i'd... i'd do anything for you. and i know that doesn't seem like a lot, but for me, that means everything.'

you know he's trying, but that conversation from weeks ago still holds a sour taste on your tongue. you mumble the words with grit, 'yeah, do anything except dumb boyfriend shit.'

'stop.'

'you said it, captain. not me.'

you can feel the frustration brewing in his chest.

'you push and push and when i finally open up you throw back something i said during a fight and under pressure. would it be fair that everytime you compliment me, i follow it up with a 'oh, but do you really? because the other week you called me a fucking coward.'

silence. you don't like when he's right.

'i know you didn't get the answer you wanted, and i'm sorry, but you can't bully me into a relationship. it just doesn't work like that.'

you know it doesn't, but it makes you feel a little better. sometimes dogpiling on peter makes you feel level footed, even if it's only for a second before he's making you feel guilty.

'i just want more, peter. and i don't mean that in a 'keep pressuring you into being my boyfriend' way. i don't know how to explain it.'

peter nibbles at his bottom lip, 'can you try?'

'i just want you to talk to me, and tell me things about yourself, or your childhood. i want you to tell me about the things that made you laugh that day, or show me your interests, or hobbies or really anything that's past surface value.'

you follow up with, 'i think i just want to know i have your commitment.'

you're glad you can't see his face, he's too quiet, you think this is the part where he officially breaks it off.

'you did a good job at explaining it.' his dismissal is enough to send you screaming and running, but he adds more before you could move.

'you have my commitment, trouble. i don't want anyone else but you, and if we need to have the conversation now, i'm off limits. i have been for a while, i'm sorry if i haven't made that clear.'

tilting your chin you get a glance of him, 'off limits?'

peter crosses out his body, 'trouble only zone. i'm talking about no flirting, deleting dm requests, harsh rejection and absolutely no touching.'

'trouble only?'

peter's shoulders drop in relief when the previously unrecognized tension lifts from the room.

he nods, 'only trouble can hear about my day, and childhood, and my hobbies. and touch, trouble can touch as much as she wants, whenever she wants.'

peter has one more thing to add.

'trouble, if i'm going to be anyone's boyfriend, i'm gonna be yours.'

he knows how to keep you latched. it works like a charm. but you can't let him know that.

'hm, if i'm gonna be anyone's girlfriend, i might be yours.'

'then i might be the luckiest guy in the entire world.'

you hum, his admittance made you warm. kicking your shoes off you wriggle higher unto his bed, 'sorry, no more party for me tonight. i'll get a ride home later.'

peter's busy moving closer to you in the sheets, 'you can stay here tonight.' his bed is ultra soft, you don't know how he's able to leave it in the morning. 'tempting, but i'm not in the mood to bang tonight.'

'good, neither am i.' you snort, 'really?' peter nods in your peripheral, 'it takes two to tango, trouble.'

it's calm, then he asks softly, like he's scared of you rejecting him, 'do you wanna cuddle?' your head turns, he's just as breathtaking in the moonlight.

you're already scooting back into him, 'really? don't you have a party to attend?' peter wraps his arms around you, tugging you close and tight, he wouldn't let you slip away if he could help it.

'nah, i'd rather tell you all about my aunt may.' 

[theemporium]

hiii cece, i was wondering if your still doing formula one, charles leclerc losing to reader and having a heated sex session (idk if that makes sense, but i hope you get it ig)

thank you xx

thank you for requesting! i do kinda wanna write for my boys (and maybe some others, who knows) again so here we are :)

.

He was pissed. 

You knew he was pissed the second you got out of your car, parked right behind the number one sign, and saw him just glaring at you from his spot behind number two. You knew he was pissed when you went to the cooldown room and he had walked right past you. You knew he was pissed in the post-race conference when he made a snarky comment about your win.

He had spent the majority of the race leading. It was meant to be an easy win to secure. And then a safety car deployed and suddenly you were on his ass, and one risky move caused him to pull back and you to move ahead and you took his win. 

Charles knew how racing worked. He knew this was just one of those things that happened. But after weeks of bad luck and bad strategies, this just so happened to be the thing that tipped him over the edge and there was only one way he knew how to settle his feelings when it came to you. 

“Fuck!” 

Charles groaned as he threw his head back, the thump against the wall was a dull pain that he didn’t care about at that moment. Instead, he was focused on you. One look and you knew exactly what he needed. It was easy enough to sneak into his driver room after the conference, but you had barely stepped through the door before he was on you. 

Now, here he was, race suit pooled at his knees and fireproof abandoned somewhere in the room. His chest was heaving with soft pants, his hands were wrapped around your ponytail and his cock was hitting the back of your throat as you took it all like the good girl you were.

“That’s it, cherie,” he groaned, tugging you closer by your hair until your nose was brushing against his pelvis. He looked down at you, the way your wide, glossy eyes were staring up at him and the way his cock bulged against your cheek. “This is where you belong, hm? Look so pretty down there.” 

You whined around his cock, the sound only muffled as you squirmed under his intense gaze. Your hands were pressed against his thighs, your nails digging into his skin but he revelled in the pain.

“So fucking desperate for my cock,” he mused as he tugged you away, watching as you gasped for air. His eyes darkened at the line of spit connecting to the tip of his dick, the way your eyes fell to watch it like you wanted to destroy the distance between you and him. “Maybe I gotta fuck you before the race, leave you all dumb and fucked out. Maybe then you won’t pull stupid moves.” 

“It was a good move,” you defended weakly, your voice a little raspy as you looked up at him. 

But he just chuckled darkly as he fisted your hair, tugging your head back so you were looking up at him. His other hand wrapped around his cock in a tight first, stroking as he watched you watch him longingly. 

“Still a brat, I see,” he grumbled, hissing through clenched teeth as his thumb swiped over his sensitive tip. “A shame. I was gonna take it out on you, watch you cry for my cock. But I don’t think you deserve it.” 

Your eyes widened a little. “Charles—”

“Shh, baby,” he groaned as he fought to keep his eyes open, to keep them on your face as he felt his orgasm approaching. He took a step closer, his cock just inches away from your face. “This is all you’re getting until you stop being a brat. Only good girls get to come.”

.

[azar-rosethorn]

Security Breach/Ruin Incorrect Quotes Part 7

Chica: Christmas lights?

Vanessa: Check.

Monty: Thermos of hot cocoa?

Vanessa: Check.

Moon: Santa suits?

Vanessa: Check.

Gregory: Shovel?

Vanessa: Check.

Cassie: Alibi and bail money?

Vanessa: Check- wait, WHAT?!

--

Monty: I apologize for saying 'fuck' in front of Eclipse.

Moon: You just said it again.

Eclipse:

Monty: I am not a role model.

--

Moon: Hopefully Gregory has learned a lesson about respecting other people's feelings.

Gregory: Oh, shut up and die Moon.

--

Sun: If you see me talking to myself, go away! I’m self-employed and we’re having a staff meeting!

--

Eclipse: I'll offer you some friendly advice-

Moon: I don't want your advice.

Eclipse: Well, then consider it unfriendly advice.

--

*meeting Glitchtrap*

Vanessa: This is a very powerful artifact. You’d be messing with some forces we don’t fully understand.

Vanny: That sounds like a dare to me.

Vanessa: Oh my god.

--

Cassie: What’s it like being tall?

Cassie: Is it nice?

Cassie: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Roxy: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb 4 chairs, 2 boxes, a small coffee table and 6 oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Gregory: It was one time!

--

Gregory: I will send my army to attack!

Gregory: *releases a dumpster of raccoons*

--

Bonnie: We’re getting married, bitches!

Freddy: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem.

--

Freddy: I am going to need you to swear-

Monty: Fuck.

Freddy:

Freddy: ...swear as in promise.

--

Vanessa: Life keeps fucking me and I can't remember the safeword.

--

Roxy: I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture.

The FazFam: Awwww-

Roxy: And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."

The FazFam: Oh.

--

Cassie: This is a safety pin.

*cuts off end*

Cassie: It is now a danger pin.

--

Gregory: I CAN'T DO IT!

Cassie, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER!

Gregory: I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE

Roxy: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US.

Gregory:

Gregory: I appreciate it,

Gregory: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH-

Chica: Gregory-

Gregory: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE!

Freddy: Gregory we gotta-

Gregory: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT.

Gregory: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?'

Gregory, motioning to Vanny: NOT FUCKING THIS!

[tragedy-of-commons]

killjoy

childe x gn!reader | wc: ~1.6k

You catch your boyfriend setting up the cake.

tags/warnings: bday fun, modern & college au, based off of the American College Experience™ sorry, tooth-rotting fluff, teucer is a national treasure, comedy, possibly ooc, reader has hair

notes: for @staarri's 100 followers & bday event <3 trying to write childe was a nightmare but the wheel of doom has spoken. chosen prompt "cruel summer" :)

It has been one hell of a day.

Pop quizzes in two of your classes (that you are now tanking), getting heckled by that same group of protesters, slamming head-first into a glass panel like a pigeon, and then getting splashed by a puddle via a speeding car. 

To give credit where credit is due, you’ve suffered through every incident with class and poise. Despite how you drip with murky street water, the saving grace that is the promise of your warm bed keeps you from inventing new profanities and falling to your knees in the student parking lot.

It’s almost over with, it’s almost over with—

The splintered door of your dorm unit has never looked more welcoming. When your keycard is approved with a click, you heave the barrier between you and uninterrupted sleep wide open. However, what you don’t expect is the little spectacle unfolding in your kitchenette.

Who you belatedly realize is your lovely boyfriend is sticking candles into something - it being quickly shielded from your view as he reacts to your arrival.

“You just had to be early,” he grins, revealing those pearly whites, “Maybe I’ll start calling you ‘Killjoy’.”

“Ajax?” He’s here? Today? But he said— He must notice your sorry state, but he’s wise enough not to mention it. “You really think I’d miss celebrating your birthday in person? Seriously, what kind of partner would I be, just sending you a text? Babe, you gotta start setting some higher standards.”

“Rotten liar,” you mumble, growing smile threatening to split your face in two. 

A small flash of copper peeks around the bedroom-adjoining hallway, hyper. Teucer rushes up in front of his brother, the latter ruffling his hair. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here yet!”

You snort, wondering if anyone else is planning to jump out of the shadows. “My sincerest apologies. I could always leave—”

“No need,” Ajax dismisses the notion with a cavalier wave. “I think we’re all ready, huh Teuce?”

He huffs in agreement, beaming up at you like you hung the moon. “One second!”

Teucer scampers off faster than you can blink, making you bellow a laugh. His energy knows no bounds, necessitating many hours of entertaining his whims. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Happy birthday,” Ajax says softly; wistfully.

You stalk over to him, embracing your boyfriend like he might disappear into thin air without a moment’s notice. “If you broke in, I will be calling campus security.” “You’d never turn me in! Also, we just so happen to still be on the guest card from last week.” You part from his warmth so you can kiss him. He tastes of sugar, the bastard.

“Buttercream?” you place, peering over his shoulder. The sight of a round cake on the counter confirms your suspicions, and your heart swells. He would’ve had to bake and decorate it somewhere else, given that ovens are a luxury you do not possess in college hell. You picture him in his too-nice apartment, piping frosting in the familiar loops of your name. “Yes!” Teucer rushes back in (you note that he’s hiding his hands behind his back), while Ajax pokes your nose. “Big brother spent soooo long on it!”

You snicker deviously. “Really?”

“No reason to lie,” your boyfriend pouts, “Though I’m a bit hurt that you’re both trying to embarrass me, after I went to all this trouble..”

Teucer sticks his tongue out in disgust whenever you console Ajax with another kiss, likely wanting you both to hurry up your gross couple stuff so he can show you his gift. It’s presented to you ceremoniously, and you honor the splendor by pretending not to know that it’s definitely one of his toys. 

Your acting is award-winning, perfectly ignoring the obvious ridges and appendages of a Transformer. After tearing open the paper, you’re told that his name is Mr. Cyclops and you have to take good care of him - your sworn oath.

(Of course, Mr. Cyclops will mysteriously end up back in Teucer’s bedroom if you can count on your partner in crime to help you out. You and Ajax share a Look that hints at conspiracy.)

Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he is governed by even one modicum of shame. During the Happy Birthday song, he performs with his whole chest, much to your chagrin. You think that Ajax lives the most for other people; even if it shines brightest whenever he teases and flusters. His camaraderie is most genuine when he’s this comfortable - when he knows that the present moment is all he needs to focus on. 

When did he start letting his guard down? You find yourself unable to recall among past memories of trudging to the local diner at ungodly hours, cramming for finals at the library, and responsibly talking him down from any antics that would surely get him in trouble.

(Maybe it was when you first held an ice pack over his eye, swollen shut from a punch he shouldn’t have taken just for the thrill of it. Your admonishment must have been jarring, because without any teasing remarks whatsoever, he promised that he’d dial it down. You remember lacing your fingers with his - and promptly threatening to “embalm him with jet fuel” if he ever got hurt again.)

Now your relationship has progressed to the point where spending your first birthday together feels natural. It feels so natural that shitty paper plates stacked high with slices of cake is enough to make you forget that you look like that one damp owl picture. Ajax, as per his boyfriend duties, has to remind you, of course.

“Bad day, huh?” 

You rest your chin on your fist, elbow supported by the armrest of your (comically small) couch. In retrospect, the fleeting illusion of a living room probably wasn’t worth it. Squished into a corner by a dozing Teucer and an awake Ajax, you yawn. “The worst, actually.”

“Well, we can’t be having that,” he tips your chin up to meet azure hues, “Maybe my gift will make you feel better.”

You blink. “Gift? You don’t have to, you know. The little guy’s was plenty enough for me.” 

Ajax spares a fond glance at his little brother, whose head is resting in his lap, legs thrown over the opposite armrest. “Nonsense! If you’re worried about me having bought out a whole store—”

“Don’t tell me you—”

“—Then you have nothing to fret over, Killjoy,” he laughs. “It’s pretty small.”

You don’t suppress the smile that breaks out on your face. “Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Hopefully not too hard.” He’s so annoying. You want to kiss him stupid.

From what you assume is from his back pocket, he removes a black silk pouch before dropping it into your awaiting hand. He was right about it being small, that’s for sure. Toying with the material of it for a moment, you pull open the bag delicately. Ajax tenses. “So.. whaddya think?”

Inside is a brass key that fits into your palm nicely. Of course you’ll love anything he gives you, but you’re unsure of what this could mean. Is it symbolic? Literal? You thumb over the grooves, unsure of what they could possibly unlock. Your head swims with a fuzzy feeling that you don’t entirely hate.

“What’s it to?”

“Our place.”

It’s perfect. You turn the object this way and that way, swallowing. “Giving me my own copy? You realize that you’re gonna be stuck with me crashing at yours way more often, right?”

Your boyfriend wraps a sturdy arm around your shoulder. “It’s not there for you to crash, it’s there for you to stay. I want you to move in with me.”

The following awed silence from you is clearly taken as something else, because Ajax backpedals in that flippant way that belies the panic he’s actually feeling. You need to tell him that it’s okay; that it’s more than okay.

“Of course you can say no, but the rest of your birthday plans kinda hinge on the possibility that you’ll make me the happiest man in the world and say yes,” he amends.

You pay no heed to his theatrics, because all you really need is him. Gross. “Duh, idiot. As much as it kills me to say this, I’d want nothing more.” Ajax glows. “Because you’re head over heels in love with me?”

“No, because I won’t have to drag my ass to the laundromat anymore.”

The offended sound he lets out is muffled with your mouth against his once more, and the tears that roll down your cheeks are obviously not because you’re ecstatic to be so involved in his life. What a preposterous idea.

His hands cradle your face, a little awkward because of the position, but he’s so warm. 

“Killjoy, I have something to confess,” he breathes, pulling back enough so you can see the faint constellation of freckles dotting his features. “You need to start packing immediately, or else the flowers will wilt before you’re able to see them.”

You sigh, happy-sniffling. “Flowers? Is a bouquet perhaps part of these ‘birthday plans’?”

Ajax dries one of his hands stained with your tears off onto his shirt before raking it through Teucer’s curls affectionately. He stirs but does not wake. “Try thirty!”

“Ajax..” The horror in your tone barely disguises the admiration.

“I love you too, Killjoy.”

That night, when you’re both alone in his apartment, tangled in each other’s arms, your overnight bag on the floor - you tell him the same. The few tears he sheds into your hair are also definitely not because you’re finally comfortable enough to say it back. Ridiculous.

taglist: @hanyi-writes, @karagatan02, @bfajax, @aphrodict, @nomazee