#had me doing research like I was back in college dear lord

[hwamphwamp]

affaire de coeur

a/n: this is very much an Wooyoung and San fic but not an Wooyoung x San. They barely even know each other in this fic, like I wanna make that very clear from the start. Also Jones is simply a filler last name because I don’t wanna use Y/L/N throughout the whole fic

pairing: chef/fwb!wooyoung x socialite!reader and heir!san x socialite!reader

chapter word count: 1,483

chapter warning(s): suggestive, cheating (mentally and physically)

full fic warnings: 18+ storyline and smut (MDNI), main character is written as afab (specifically during intimate scenes), strong language, alcohol consumption, oral (receiving), fingering (receiving), penetration (receiving), unprotected sex (wrap that shit up irl PLEASE), mentions of physical/verbal abuse, cheating (mental and physical)

summary: In love with one man. Engaged to another.

As the year flys by and your wedding day with San draws near, you face an impossible choice: follow the life your family has carefully planned for you, or risk everything for a future with your best friend and secret lover, Wooyoung.

The New York Sun

March 16th, 1899

An Exciting Union: San Choi to Wed Miss Jones in New Year’s Ceremony

In what promises to be the social event of the season, it has been announced that Mr. San Choi, one of New York’s most admired bachelors, will wed Miss Jones the youngest daughter of our esteemed mayor. The engagement, only recently disclosed to intimate family and friends, has sent a stir through the city’s circles, capturing the attention of all.

The wedding is set to take place on January 1, 1900, at precisely twelve o'clock noon, an inspired choice to welcome both a new century and the newlyweds’ life together. The ceremony will be held at Grace Church on Broadway, where New York’s elite are expected to gather to witness the joyous union.

Mr. Choi, whose charm and sense of duty have made him an admired figure in New York society, is a well-regarded gentleman of enterprise and taste. Known for his gracious manner and active backing of several charitable ventures, Mr. Choi has been a figure of interest among young ladies in our social circles for some time. His engagement to Miss Jones is both a surprise and a delight to many admirers.

Miss Jones although still young, has already gained recognition for her refined accomplishments and gentle demeanor. Known to her family and friends as a talented pianist and lover of the arts, she has inherited both her mother’s elegance and her father’s sense of civic responsibility. Miss Jones is regularly seen supporting her father in his mayoral duties and is a cherished figure in both private gatherings and larger society events.

Mr. Choi and Miss Jones, who reportedly first met at a reception hosted by Governor Theodore Roosevelt earlier this year, are said to have formed a bond of mutual respect and admiration. Friends close to the family have described the match as “well-suited”, with both the Choi and Jones families pleased at the union of two distinguished lineages.

Following the service, an exclusive reception is planned at the Jones family estate, where only the closest of friends and family will toast the happy couple. The bride and groom are expected to embark on a honeymoon voyage to Europe shortly thereafter, where they will spend several weeks touring Italy, France, and London.

We at The Sun extend our warmest congratulations to Mr. Choi and Miss Jones. We eagerly await the day when this seemingly perfect match is formally celebrated. The New Year will indeed bring with it new beginnings, not only for these two bright young people but also for all of New York, which rejoices in this union.

“January 1st? Really?”

You rolled your eyes as Wooyoung folded the newspaper with a scoff and tossed it aside.

“It was his parents’ idea,” you replied, hurriedly pulling your nightgown back on. “You know how they love a grand display. If I had my way, there wouldn’t be any wedding at all.”

“Are you telling me you’re not thrilled to be marrying New York’s most eligible bachelor?” Wooyoung teased, stepping closer to help you smooth out the nightgown as you worked to make the bed look a bit more presentable than it did just minutes ago. It still looked like the aftermath of a storm, but you were satisfied once it looked like you’d just had a restless night of sleep instead of a tango in your sheets.

“Is he really that awful?”

“He’s not awful, Woo,” you sighed, pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts. “He’s just… he’s not—”

“Me?”

“I was going to say he’s not my type,” you replied with a faint smile, lifting the bed skirt and motioning for him to shimmy underneath as footsteps sounded down the hallway. For once, he didn’t linger to tease you, but slipped beneath the bed without protest. Once he was hidden and the room looked somewhat in order, you climbed under the covers and closed your eyes just as the maid knocked softly and entered.

“Miss? It’s time to wake up,” she said in her usual gentle tone, raising her voice a bit when you made no response.

“Miss? It’s time—”

You cracked one eye open just as she froze, staring at something on the floor by your bed. Your heart jolted.

Oh no. She’s seen him, and now you’re both doomed. Your parents—oh, god, they’ll never forgive you—

“This jacket,” she murmured, bending down to pick up the jacket you’d made Wooyoung remove the moment he entered your room a few hours earlier. You could’ve sworn you remembered to make him put it back on before-

“It’s Mr. Choi’s, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes,” you replied quickly, stifling a yawn as she examined it. “We took a walk in the park last night, and he draped it over my shoulders when I got cold.”

She made a small sound, still eyeing the jacket with a puzzled look.

“Strange… I’ve never seen Mr. Choi wear anything quite so… old-fashioned.”

You say still for a moment, realizing too late that San would never wear something that wasn’t brand-new.

“Yes, well, he’s taken to vintage styles lately. Says they carry history, or something poetic like that. You know how he is.”

She smiled knowingly, folding the jacket and placing it on your reading chair. “Oh, I do. Those letters of his are enough to make any woman blush.”

You managed a smile in return, sitting up and rubbing the sleep—or rather, lack of it—from your eyes.

“All right, I’m up now, I promise,” you said, remembering that you still needed to get Wooyoung out of the room. “I know you need to wake up my sister. Just let me freshen up, and I’ll be ready to get dressed for the day.”

“As you wish, Miss.”

“Wait!” you called just as she was about to leave. “Could you leave the door open a crack? My allergies kept me up all night, and a bit more air would help.”

She tilted her head, a little puzzled but not enough to question your request. “Of course. And don’t forget, breakfast will be in a few hours. The head chef’s gone missing again, as usual. I don’t know how he keeps his job.”

With that, she propped the door open and left. You waited until her footsteps faded, then peeked into the hallway, giving Wooyoung the all-clear to pull himself out from under the bed.

“Am I good to go?” he whispered.

“Yes, now hurry up,” you replied, ushering him toward the door. “And for the record, she’s right. I don’t know how you’re still employed when you cut it so close every time.”

“What can I say?” he smirked. “Why hurry back to the kitchen when my favorite meal is right here?”

“Get out, Casanova,” you murmured, cheeks heating up as he grabbed his jacket and tucked it away under his arm. “Make the eggs daddy likes this morning. It’ll make it easier for me to convince him that perfection takes time when he complains about breakfast being late again.”

Wooyoung shot you a mischievous smile, stealing one last quick kiss on your forehead before making his way to the stairs that lead to

You knew, of course, this couldn’t go on forever; it was all too risky. Besides, you were already promised to the very man your family adored. Life would be so simple if you hadn’t let your heart rule your head years ago. What was meant to be a single night of fun had somehow grown into this hidden routine—sneaking Wooyoung into your room, or you sneaking into his quarters, just for the chance to feel love that owed nothing to duty or family ties.

At first, you’d hoped to delay marriage indefinitely, thinking perhaps your family would eventually accept the notion of a slightly scandalous, unmarried daughter if it meant keeping you happy. But they’d had other ideas, introducing you to San at that dreadful reception, and securing a proposal only months later.

The first rays of sun streaming through your curtains reminded you cruelly that it was time to set aside your dreams. To play the dutiful daughter, the perfect fiancée, and pretend that Wooyoung was nothing more than an old family friend who’d once escorted you to and from your piano lessons during his short breaks. All this pretending was wearing thin, like an actress trapped on stage long after the curtain should have fallen, only able to be herself under the darkness of the stage once the lights were out.

“Miss?”

You looked up to see your maid at the door, carrying your outfit for the day. Her concerned expression made you realize you’d drifted off in thought.

“Are you ok?”

You mustered a reassuring smile, standing to help her arrange the skirts she’d laid over the vanity.

“I’m fine,” you said, brushing the thoughts away. “Never better.”

[ybklix]

𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg

★ pairing: idol!lee felix x fem!reader

✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol

word count: 5.1k

(masterlist)

♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡

a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!

There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”

You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.

There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.

Life was going great for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.

They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.

A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.

So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.

You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.

“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”

Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.

You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.

“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.

The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.

But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.

“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.

You nodded, confused, he went on to say:

“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.

You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.

You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.

All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.

Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.

Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.

But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.

You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.

You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.

You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.

“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.

You saw them, they looked totally lost.

“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.

“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.

You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.

Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.

He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.

The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.

But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.

You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.

“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”

“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”

Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.

“After party, with who?”

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.

“Well, who are you working for.”

Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.

You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.

“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”

“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.

“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.

“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.

“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.

You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.

You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.

“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.

It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.

You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.

You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.

Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.

After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.

“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.

You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.

Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.

What was going on?

Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.

So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.

Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.

“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”

Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.

“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.

“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”

Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.

You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.

He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.

“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.

He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.

Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.

He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.

“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.

This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.

“Get on your knees, beautiful.”

He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.

Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.

Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.

You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.

He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.

So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.

“Use your pretty mouth.”

You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.

Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.

“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”

He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….

You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.

He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.

You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.

“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.

“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.

You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.

“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.

But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.

“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”

And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.

He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.

And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.

“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.

“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”

Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.

“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”

Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.

You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.

Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.

“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”

You tried to nod between gripping your hair.

“Say it.”

“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”

“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”

His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.

Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.

You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.

“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”

You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.

“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”

“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.

You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.

“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.

You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

IS THERE A VERSION OF JOEL MILLER I WOULDN'T FUCK?

[a case study in how thirsty i am for this man.] [aka fic recommendations]

Unfortunately, in my extensive research on this topic, I have found some pretty damning evidence against my sanity.

dad's best friend!joel miller x fem!reader

Your Summer Dream [masterlist] by @swiftispunk It is a scientific fact that if you place Joel Miller on a beach he becomes 100x hotter. I don't make the rules, I just report them.

Creep it Real! by @swiftispunk I am a puddle. I melted and I'm a shallow pathetic puddle. Cowboy and Angel. I just hnnnnnggggg. I need him to ruin me pls dear god.

*I'm realizing if i include all the DBF!JM i read this will get very long, very quickly, and i think i have revealed enough of myself on this blog to highlight my very obvious daddy issues

**speaking of daddy issues...

stepdad!joel miller x fem!reader

Don't Be Cute, Be Nasty by @cockslutpadalecki i'm pretty sure this was the first stepdad!joel miller anything i read and it awoke something in my soul. it's always fun to reach new levels of my daddy issues and BY GOD was this just 🫠

Bad Girl [part i of many] by @seventeenpins he walks in on her while she's watching stepdaddy porn and good lord it gets filthier and filthier in the best kind of way.

boyfriend's dad!joel miller x fem!reader

Lost in the Dark [masterlist] by @iamasaddie i expected to be a slut reading this but then it made me an emotional slut out of nowhere i am obsessed. there is nothing i love more than being drawn in by my thots only to be hit by an emotional bus out of nowhere.

Thigh's Out AU [masterlist] by @toxicanonymity not only is this a boyfriend's dad AU, but said boyfriend's dad is a hot and slutty. just like i like my dilfs.

father-in-law!joel miller x fem!reader

Pink [masterlist] by @netherfeildren holy fuck. that's all. just holy fuck. this altered my genetic makeup.

Help, I'm Stuck! by @nosesitter spoiler alert: he takes her wedding ring off before dicking her down and I-- 👀 send help.

***i didn't think i had a lot of significant other's father!joel miller in my repertoire, but i had to stop myself again from listing them all on this one otherwise we'd be here all day. shit, i'm learning things about myself 🤡

dark therapist!joel miller x fem!reader

Session 1 by @elvinaa i think this only highlights how badly i need an actual therapist (as does this entire list actually).

sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader

Meet Me in the Back (1) & The Night is Dark Enough ... (2) written by @atticrissfinch It does not bode well for me that this version of Joel Miller made me so fucking feral. In no way, shape, nor form should a sleazy gas station clerk make me feel this way AND YET HERE WE ARE.

tattoo artist!joel miller x fem!reader

Honeyed [masterlist] by @softlyspector This one absolutely hits too close to home for me, but that's probably why I'm so obsessed with it. My touch adverse yet touch starved ass ate this up and left no crumbs😌

chiro!joel miller x fem!reader

Say Yes to Heaven by @pascalisbaby i thought the medical side of my brain would cringe at the doctor/patient dynamic but as it turns out my depravity knows no bounds 🥵

frat dad!joel miller x fem!reader

The Old College Try by @proxima-writes i didn't even know this was something i needed in my life until it came into my life. blessings🙏🏼

ceo!joel miller x fem!reader

Sex on Fire [masterlist] by @macfrog i don't think i need to harp on what that sugar daddy vibes do to me🤤

mafia!joel miller x fem!reader

Divine Dynasty by @cavillscurls Remember when I said putting Joel by a body of water makes him 100x hotter? The same applies to a Mafia AU. I can't explain it. I have no sound reasoning to support my claim other than "he hot tho".

pornstar!joel miller x fem!reader

I Know it When I See it [masterlist] by @bageldaddy 🔥🔥🔥 that is all.

maintenance man!joel miller x fem!reader

Maintenance Man [masterlist] by @gracieispunk toolbelt. say less.

slasher!joel miller x fem!reader

Slasher [masterlist] by @toxicanonymity i thought for sure, FOR SURE, this would be blind, pure, detached smut that i could enjoy with no emotional ties whatsoever. and then all of a sudden i'm feeling things??? he just loves his mom so much😭 mama's boy wants to be happy. JAIL. real jail for murderer joel miller. horny jail for me. and audacity jail for toxic b/c how dare you make me feel things for a serial killer😩

as i said previously, the evidence speaks for itself. i have yet to find a version of joel miller i could not immediately fuck. i'm actually planning (i have a lot of plans and no time smh), to go through all these on my recommendation blog w/play by play commentary so everyone can know just how unhinged i am for this guy.

but now!! you guys have a syllabus for my insanity!!

now, excuse me while i go find a therapist (a real one, not a hot/dark joel miller version of one) (although beggars can't be choosers right?👀)

dividers by @saradika

[isfjmel-phleg]

Selections from the Correspondence of the Lockridge Family, I/XVII

Letter from Tamett Lockridge, companion to Prince Josiah of Lienne, to his family.

Königshaus Palace

Königsstadt, Lienne

21 February 1908

Dear Father, Mother, Emenor, Lovisa, Cille, and Zella,

I am well. I hope you are well too. Everyone else here is well and says hello. They really don’t but this is something you are supposed to say in letters.

Today I had breakfast. It was good except for having to eat it with His Royal Highness. Then HRH and I had morning lessons with Professor Ebner.[1] We did Divinity first, but I don’t remember much because I was mostly asleep.[2] Then we did Mathematics. Professor Specht[3] doesn’t like how I do multiplication. He wants me to do it like HRH, but his way doesn’t make sense even though he always has the right answer. Then we did Latin. The ancient Romans were interesting and did lots of exciting things, but I wish they had done it in Liennese and made it less confusing. I suggested to Professor Ebner that we do Latin practice by pretending to be gladiators outdoors, but he didn’t like that idea. Then we had lunch. Then we had more lessons, but they are also boring and I don’t want to write about them. After lessons HRH wanted to read, so I went for a walk in the park.[4] I am trying to see how far I can go before anyone notices. I think I was there for a few hours. Lord Protzmann[5] found me and said that I should know better than to disappear like that. So it was partly successful. It was too late to practice violin.

I had dinner with HRH and Mikaiah and Her Royal Highness Ateva. Her Royal Highness Ayra had to eat with the King.[6] She sneaked some of their caviare and brought it back for us to try.[7] It was strange. I wasn’t going to write tonight, but Lord Protzmann said I should.[8] So I am writing now.

When they pay me next week,[9] may I have a viertelmyunze[10] from it? I have had nothing for weeks whenever the shopkeepers come to visit.[11]

Yours sincerely

Tamett

P.S.: And please send my other handball from home. I lost the one I had.

P. P. S.: I asked Lord Protzmann about coming home at Easter[12] and he said he would talk to the king.

[1] Professor Ebner: Helmold Ebner, primary tutor to Prince Josiah, taught the traditional classical subjects. He was among the foremost scholars at the University of Wissenberg when he was engaged by Odren VII in 1902 to teach his son. The arrangement proved successful, with Ebner remaining with the Prince until the latter’s departure for Hollingham College in 1908. Ebner wrote to his brother in 1903, “While I admit that initially my expectations in teaching such a young pupil—a new experience indeed for me—were less than optimistic, I have found His Royal Highness to have the gravity and diligence of a young man thrice his age, and I would not exchange my young scholar for any graduate student at Wissenberg. He is a joy to teach and the pride of my academic career” (Collected Letters of Helmold Ebner, vol. 3, pp. 336-37). References to Tamett Lockridge appear surprisingly seldom among Ebner’s correspondence, with the most notable remark being his lament to a former colleague that “the Norriberrian child cannot understand simple concepts that His Royal Highness grasps immediately, while certain more difficult things that I take care to fully explain he claims to grasp from the start and yawns through the lesson” (Ibid. p. 429).

[2] mostly asleep: Multiple memoranda from Prince Josiah to his father complaining of his companion’s distracting tendency to snore during some lessons substantiate this remark.

[3] Professor Specht: Xaver Specht, mathematics tutor to Prince Josiah, was a professor at Wissenberg for only five years before winning the Höchste Award for Mathematical Achievement in 1902 for his monograph “Confronting the Monster Infinity.” He initially declined Odren’s request to teach the Prince, preferring to concentrate on research, but Odren’s promised compensation proved too profitable an opportunity to pass up. Specht was a notably private man but is known to have once claimed, “Most days, I need not teach His Royal Highness. He was born with mathematics written on his lips and heart” (Kalb, Xaver Specht: A Unique Mind, p. 284).

[4] the park: The park on the grounds of Königshaus Palace is famous for its great extent, nearly twenty miles at its widest point. Its attractions include the royal herd of deer, the Buchenwald (Beech Forest), and the magnificent statue of Odren (I) the Great, erected in 1858 by Odren VI to commemorate the four hundredth anniversary of Lienne’s conquest of Norriber.

[5] Lord Protzmann: Lord Protzmann, the head of the household of the royal children of Lienne, was appointed to that rank in 1885 and would continue in that role until his dismissal in 1910 after an embezzlement scandal. His duties included overseeing the daily affairs of the royal children’s domestic staff, managing accounts, and supervising such employees as the companion Tamett Lockridge and the princesses’ lady’s-maid, Sarra Gilsbrecht. Correspondence and diaries of the royal children indicate that they typically referred to Protzmann behind his back as Protz; it is likely that Tamett did also, but in a letter to his family which Protzmann could have easily intercepted, he is employing caution.

[6] Ayra had to eat with the King: By December 1902, after the death of Queen Nyella, Princess Ayra was expected to attend meals with her father in place of a consort whenever female guests were present. Lady Erna Rademacher, who often dined with the royal family, commented in later life that the princess was “so studiously courteous that to interact with her resembled a lesson in etiquette. She was always correct but lacked the spontaneous warmth more natural to her sister” (Forty-Seven Years at the Liennese Court, pp. 251-52).

[7] some of their caviare […] for us to try: The royal children’s household accounts indicate that the princes and princesses typically dined quite lavishly, in a style resembling that of their parents and the rest of the court. Even so, such dishes as caviar would have been off-limits.

[8] Lord Protzmann said I should: Lord Protzmann regularly corresponded with Edvin and Elina Lockridge about their son’s welfare and behavior and also kept track of the boy’s communication with his family.

[9] they pay me next week: Tamett Lockridge was paid 100 myunzen per mensem (worth approximately $5,300 today), the bulk of which went to his parents, although the rest was put in savings for his future, with a small allowance for him.              

[10] viertelmyunze: The myunze (plural: myunzen) is the chief unit of Liennese currency, worth approximately $53 dollars in 1908. A viertelmyunze was worth a quarter of a myunze ($13.25), while a halbemyunze was worth half ($26.50).

[11] the shopkeepers come to visit: Since it was not considered proper or feasible for the royal family to attend shops, certain prestigious merchants in Königsstadt were permitted by appointment to bring a selection of their wares and their catalog to the palace for the royal family to examine and purchase at will.

[12] coming home at Easter: Tamett’s last documented visit to his family had been at Christmas 1907.

[blossom-adventures]

Happy Birthday, Winter!

This is a birthday present for @thequeenofthewinter who has been so lovely and supportive of me and my writing since I started sharing it.

Winter, Happy Birthday! I hope you have a lovely day full of love and hugs!

I’m so happy I’ve got to know you and you deserve all the love and support you get, I hope you have a good day and enjoy what I’ve done for you, it’s a long one so I’ve put it under a “read more” (I had a good idea and ran with it ☺️ also I hope I wrote Dahlia alright, it’s my first time writing someone else’s OC)

💙😘🎂

Mara’s Light

Dear Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, thank you for getting in touch with me, as much as I would love to help you with a birthday present for Dahlia, the only copy of ‘Mara’s Light’ that we have in the library is a first edition print that cannot and will not leave the Arcanaeum. However I have heard rumours of ancient tomes being locked away in Shalidor’s Maze, I would recommend looking there for a copy, the author was a research fellow of Shalidor after all. I can also recommend a member of the Companions for you too, I have hired her in the past to collect books for me, I’m sure she would be more than willing to help you. Best of luck, Urag Gro-shub, curator of the Arcanaeum in the College of Winterhold.

Ulfric sighed as he set the letter down on the arm of his throne, it had been 5 weeks since the Companion had left on this job, Dahlia’s birthday was tomorrow and he had nothing to give her.

“Jorleif”

“My lord?”

“If that Companion doesn’t return by tomorrow, I’ll need you to run to Ilse’s bakery to get some danishes, it’ll be better than nothing after all”

“Of course my lord, but you mustn’t lose hope, that Companion has done jobs for me throughout the war, she’s reliable, she’s probably on her way back now”

“Or… she’s lying dead in Shalidor’s Maze, you saw how nervous she looked when I told her where to go”

“She’s a Companion of Whiterun, Ulfric, I’m sure she is more than capable of doing this job”

“It’s too close for my liking, with Dahlia’s birthday tomorrow,” Ulfric sighed “I wanted it to be special… Gods know she deserves it”

The next day, Dahlia’s birthday. Ulfric was pacing, Dahlia would be down from their room any moment now. He looked down at the plate of danishes on the table, and cursed under his breath, still no sign of the Companion or the book he had sent her to retrieve.

“Ah, good morning, my love!” He froze as he heard Dahlia’s voice behind him, “are you alright?” She asked as she approached him, he turned to greet her with a warm smile and a kiss on the lips

“Good morning my love, happy birthday”

“Thank you” Dahlia looked down to the table “oooh! Danishes!” She smiled brightly as she picked up one of them, her smile faded slightly as she saw Ulfric’s, he looked sad, maybe a little annoyed “Ulfric, what’s wrong?” He sighed

“My gift for you hasn’t arrived yet” he huffed “I was hoping it would, but…” Dahlia stopped him with a kiss

“Ulfric, you didn’t need to get me anything”

“No, but I wanted to, you deserve it, my Queen”

“Jarl Ulfric!” A woman’s voice came from the doors of the palace, both Dahlia and Ulfric looked over to see a woman in her mid 30’s with black hair and reddish-brown eyes, she was wearing thick leather armour, in her arms was a large item wrapped in tanned leather.

“Companion!” Ulfric approached “you cut it fine, I was worried something had happened, is that it?”

“It is, I’m sorry it’s late I got… delayed” she explained as she handed the package to him

“Delayed?” Ulfric looked a little concerned, the Companion shook her head

“It’s… complicated, could I explain to you later my lord?”

“Of course, Jorleif will arrange the rest of your pay”

“Thank you” the Companion bowed and made her way over to the steward, Ulfric saw she was carrying a limp that she didn’t have when she left Windhelm 5 weeks ago

“Are you hurt, Companion?” He called after her

“It’s nothing my lord, I was going to the Temple of Talos once I had delivered the gift” Ulfric nodded to her before returning to Dahlia.

“Happy birthday, my love” he said as he gave her the present, she opened it and was left nearly speechless

“Oh… Ulfric…” Dahlia ran her hand along the intricate cover, Mara’s Light was carved into the leather binding “how did… Urag would’ve never parted with his copy”

“It isn’t his, I had the Companion there retrieve this copy for me” he said, nodding towards the armoured woman who was still talking to Jorleif. “And you deserve it, Dahlia. Before you say it’s too much, nothing is too much for you” he kissed her again

“I’ll have to thank you properly for this later”

“Will you?” Ulfric gave her a smirk, Dahlia kissed him on the cheek before walking over to the Companion

“Companion, what’s your name?”

“Jaina, my lady” she said with a bow

“Thank you, I’ve wanted a copy of that book for a while now” Jaina shrugged

“I’m glad I was able to help get it for you then,” she sounded a little embarrassed, it made Dahlia wonder how much gratitude the Companions would normally get when they completed a job

“Will you stay for the party tonight? Lydia and Ulfric have something planned but they won’t tell me what” Dahlia said with a glance over her shoulder to Ulfric, who acted ignorant to what she meant, Jaina went red in the face.

“I… I’d be honoured, of course, but I have nothing else to wear, and I need to see the Jarl about something… and I need to get my leg sorted at the temple and…” Jaina tripped over her words as she spoke, Dahlia held up her hand to stop the Companion

“Please, as a thank you for getting this book for me, I insist” Jaina looked a little lost for words for a moment before finally nodding

“Who am I to refuse the future High Queen”

“Excellent, come back tonight then, go and get your leg seen to, Ulfric will be gone for awhile anyway”

“Will I?” He asked as Dahlia walked back over to him and whispered something into his ear “alright, Jorleif, I’m… needed elsewhere for a while, I’ll be back later.” The steward rolled his eyes as Dahlia took her book in one hand and Ulfric’s hand in the other, leading him back towards their private chambers.

[sassykitkat22]

Now i love how vlads obsession switched gears and id like to add to it by making it once more extend onto another person

Jasmine dun dun dunnnnnn

As we know from the show danny got added to his obsession regarding Maddie and Jack after discovering danny is a halfa like him

And since its done a 180 here i think after a while of interacting with jack at some point will brag about his oldest daughter and eventually go down to how many times she helped keep dannys secret as well as make to steer the conversation away from phantom during dinner

And you know making sure jack and Maddie pulled away to actually take care of themselves

What is going through vlads head is something along the lines of

I see while me and jack where blinded by that

she devil my dear niece was not only making sure danny was able to feel safe and comfortable

But also insured my brother from another mother wasn't being worked to the bone by she who shall not be named and making sure he ate food

And yes vlad knows if someone isn't there to check in on jack then he will get sucked into the invention zone but his best buddy is very passionate about technology and we all get that way sometimes

But that tendency had to be ten time worse because no doubt Maddie brushed off any thoughts his best friend could have had about taking a break in order to use his mind to further her goals just like how she did when he was left in the hospital half alive half dead

Why it must have been a constant struggle to ensure jacks continued good health but his niece managed to pulled through

Suddenly, any trouble jazz my have had with uptight rich kids disappears as they try to avoid her and if she ever had to take a loan for college any debt has been paid off

-------

Jack finds a harley quinn on death's door after an argument with the joker one day and decides to help her get back to health

Now jazz as a psychology majore in gotham had heard the story of Dr. Harleen Quinzel at her school, teachers have used her as a cautionary tale about being carful to keep patients at an arms length and some have even done research papers on her because they consider her morbidly fascinating

Some say she's someone who was tragically doomed to fall into being a Rouge eventually due to her family background.

While others consider her a someone who was manipulated, warped by the joker and could have has a normal life if she never encountered him.

One day, she goes to visit her family after having a bit of essay writing block and deciding to take a step back and take a small break

just to find out that her lovable himbo crime lord dad has taken in said

"fuck it if my family can get away with having ties to the criminal underworld why can't I"

Jazz get help on her essay as well as someone to talk psychology to

and harley gets help breaking away from the joker obsession!

Harly, when healed enough, decides to teach jazz some tricks she's learned since in the profession jazz is planning to go into. It's better to be safe than sorry

(Now jazz knows how to aim! Though she still prefes the anti creep stick)

(P.s she's crossed out Fenton and wrote Nightingale creepstick)

Danny, with his dislike and general distrust for clowns, tries to supervise only to get pulled in and eventually get some therapy

Harley after learning about Maddie and what she tried to do to danny decides to join jacks team and gets adopted as a pseudo sibling by Jack

and that's the day she gained a non-shitty but kinda crazy family as well as a place she can feel safe.

Thus, Auntie Harley was born

(Bud and loo are kinda like guard dogs for the building, and Jack absolutely helps to spoil them)

(She and Jazz definitely tag team to help curve their family's bad habits at some point)

(She's helping Danny make chaos as soon as they are left in a room together)

(She is also the therapist for jacks helpers though people where definitely wary of her at first they eventually got use to her)

Now keep in mind she sees how Vlad acts, and while she understands the whole ghost obsession thing, she tends to help keep him on a bit of a leash and pulls him back if it starts negatively affecting everyone with both words and a good smack to the head

------

Something i want to add is vlad didn't originally like her very much and the feeling was mutual After harley came back to visit the first time he tried to threaten integrate her on why she came back what is she planning for his best friend, niece, and nephew how can he get her to leave?

Now vlad as a business man prides himself in being able to hide things from his opponents with a mask

So he's more then a little botherd when she casually lists off all his issues and the possible reasons behind these issues and bein 90% right

He only starts to semi trust her and see her as an ally/pawn is when she smacks down a bunch of goons joker sent to ambush jack after he tried to attack a upgraded crim alley with laughing gas and failed

I cant think of what would push them into being sort of friends but as a friend harley helps vlad through his more toxic traits

And when jack decides to date again she and him being both paranoid about relationships team up to make sure whoever is trying to woo their favorite himbo has honest intentions and isn't looking to use him

And she makes sure vlad doesn't try to make things up so they can cause a breakup

Because lets face it this vlad right here will probably hate the idea of jack trying to date someone purely because (in his eyes) its because of a relationship with Maddie that jack was pulled away from him in his time of need and became distanced enough to the point of misplaced resentment and hatred

So to him, jack dating = no more friendship

Thankfully harley, his frienenemy is there to pull him away from those thoughts before he does something that would actually ruin his friendship

Now, harlys nicknames for the Nightingale family!

Danny=little hyena

on account of his habit to bite dangerous people and ask questions later

Jazz=jazzy

I know its a bit lazy but I could just genuinely see her calling jazz this

Jack= Jackyboy

Again, a bit lazy but I'm honestly drawing a blank, so feel free to pop in with suggestions

Vlad= vamps (Dracula is the one she uses if he does somthing or gets out of control)

Red hood/jason

I have two

shrike

I feel like she could probably figure out his previous identity as robin and shriks are pretty brutal birds if she did

Plus I imagine they get off on the wrong foot due to her past relationship with the joker and I can see him threatening first chance he gets maybe somthing along the lines of "I'll throw you from the highest building I can find then shoot you before you hit the ground just befor you hit the ground if you hurt them"

So violent

And Red Gremlin

There's no reason it just fits

Sam=sqirt

Reasons

Tucker=mummy boy? Pharoah dude????.....

Hacky oh gosh that made me cringe. Maybe something like guru or techie? I know those are probably lazy but i seriously still got nothing (i dont remember the character that well)

DP X DC Prompt #45

Gotham has a new rouge. Except he only steals food and medical supplies in great quantities.

(Jack takes Danny and runs to Gotham after a Reveal gone Wrong where Maddie tries to kill Danny)

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - First Time With MC (Lemon)

(Author’s notes: These scenarios do NOT assume a gender for MC, but do write the boys penetrating the reader.)

– Zen –

This isn’t his first rodeo, but he’s not exactly experienced; he’s had, like, one-and-a-half relationships before you. It’s been years since he’s had partnered sex.

And he’s never had sex-ed, either, so his knowledge of the Nasty is kinda lacking. He thinks he can re-use condoms as long as he keeps it on, he believes coconut oil can be used with latex, he thinks birth control pills act as a spermicide, and so on.

You and him initiate sex pretty early on in the relationship, perhaps merely a few days after the RFA party. He’s very romantic about it, too, planning a whole day in advance with rose petals on the bed and scented candles dotting his room. But in the middle of making out, you ask if he’s clean, and he pulls back, confused. “... I think? I mean, I haven’t been with anybody in years, so ...”

Turns out he’s never been tested for STDs. He’s almost offended when you bring it up, like you’re insinuating he’s been cheating on you. You have to explain that getting tested is just what everyone does before having sex with someone for the first time. 

So ... he’s not tested. “Can we ... still do it?” He’s blushing like crazy now, embarrassed he’s so behind on the know-how when he’s the one who wanted this in the first place. 

Partnered sex can still be relatively safe even when an individual’s not been tested, so long as you use lots of protection. But depending on who you are, you might say no, just to be 100% safe. Either way, Zen’s disappointed - not in you, no way, but in himself. God, he’s been looking forward to this night for so long, and he fucked it up by being stupid. He stews in his thoughts silently for a while, and you can tell he’s feeling down so you cuddle him close to have a good long chat about sex, relationships, and communication. Afterwards, he feels much less insecure. The two of you take the rose petals and candles to the bathroom to enjoy your first romantic bath together, instead.

Two days later, he bounces back from the clinic with a negative on every test imaginable. It’s finally time to dig in, and go ham he does, passionately wrapping you into his arms while thrusting deep and slow, trying to have as much skin contact at all times. Oh, god, he loves you, and he’ll spend the whole night proving it.

(Except he definitely couldn’t last the whole night. Your first time having sex was a mere two turns before he clonked out. He’s still embarrassed about that.)

– Yoosung –

It’s his first time having sex, and he’s really nervous. He wants it, wants you badly, but oh my god what if he messes up? What if he farts? Or scratches you in the face? Or he thrusts weird and hurts you and you start bleeding or something?? Dear lord help him

He considers proposing sex like, eight different times. He’s always chickened out, just kissing you on the doorstep before saying goodbye, or letting you leave his dorm without offering to stay the night. It doesn’t help that his dorm is tiny, he’s got a twin bed barely big enough for him. And anybody passing by the door would hear what’s going on inside clear as day. Take his word on that.

He had spent several hours worth on his laptop, doing research on ‘how to have sex for the first time’. He’s got his list of positions to try, how to minimize pain and discomfort, etc, all memorized.. He eventually goes out to get condoms and lube, making sure to use the self-checkout. 

You and him are hanging out in his dorm after a date, and he wasn’t even planning to suck it up and ask you, but you saw the condoms in the shopping bag he forgot to stow away, and you asked him gently, “do you want to be intimate with me, Yoosung?”

He blushes like crazy, you could swear you saw steam lines radiating from his face. But you take his hand in encouragement and he nods eagerly, looking anywhere else but your eyes. “I - I really want this, MC. I’ve been thinking about this for so long ...”

You can tell he’s nervous. The two of you sit on his bed and talk explicitly about what he wants, how you should proceed, what lines to avoid, and lots of other important details. A safeword is confirmed; ‘server maintenance’. He feels much more confident. 

The two of you begin by just kissing on his bed, he slowly dares to feel up your shirt and eventually the clothes come off bit by bit. His body is lean and soft, and he’s loud, too. Just nipping at his pillowy tummy makes him cry out. 

You give him oral, and he’s twisting around, grabbing at pillows and sheets like he’s tumbling down a cliff. He comes without warning and collapses, wrung out and overwhelmed with pleasure. 

Some cuddling afterwards, and then he’s hard again and kissing at your neck. He asks you to ride him, and when you do, he’s sobbing without shame and grabbing hard at your hips.

Some time afterwards, when you and Yoosung are trying to cuddle on his bed without either of you toppling off, he remembers just how loud he’s been and dreads facing anybody in the building tomorrow. You just laugh and tuck him into the bedsheets.

– Jaehee –

She shyly shows off a beautiful new set of lingerie as her way of asking to ‘take the relationship to the next level’. And she’s a real bombshell in it. It’s sometimes easy to forget that Jaehee’s got a bod underneath her suit/cafe uniform.

Unlike certain younger boys, Jaehee didn’t feel the need to agonize over this night over a period of several months. This is a natural progression for her. Once things feel ready between the two of you, it’s natural that the question eventually comes up.

She first shows you her new lingerie in its original packaging, and waits to hear your ‘yes’. Then, it’s time to hop into the bathtub for a long soak and thorough wash before putting it on.

She also gets new toys. Entire shopping bags and shipping boxes filled with insertables, vibrators, pumps, impacts, (and also the supplies needed to maintain them). She didn’t come out and show you these all at once, she’d probably die of embarrassment if she did. But she had them all unwrapped, clean, tested, and ready to use in a discreet box.

You and she actually end up making out on the couch rather than the bedroom. She’s sitting in your lap dressed in her lingerie, you’re fully clothed, and things get so heated the two of you decide to go at it right there.

She’s surprisingly wild. She keeps as much of her lingerie on as possible, even while you’re knuckle deep or pelvis-to-pelvis. The floor is eventually lined with toys as one is used after the other. And she loves taking the initiative with a gentle but firm hand, directing the positions one after the other, or deciding what toy to be used where, and for how long.

A round on the couch, and Jaehee cools down long enough to freak out about staining the upholstery, so she ushers you into the bedroom while she busts out the Lysol. 

After she cleans up, she joins you on the bed for some belated cuddling, and perhaps a second round. Or three.

And it’s actually in the middle of the day, not during the night, so the two of you are completely worn out by dinnertime. Food is takeout, and there’s a lot of it because you need to replenish all that energy.  

Jaehee doesn’t get blushy until you feed her a bite of dessert. It’s cute how confident she is when it comes to sex, but shy about small acts of intimacy. 

– Jumin –

He’s not a virgin, (not that it’s any of your business, Luciel), he had sex with a random girl back in college just to see what the fuss was about, and nothing else since then.

Jumin’s a conservative guy. “Liberalism can only flourish with a good foundation of conservatism.” He believes unmarried couples shouldn’t live together. Of course he’s not gonna be fond of having sex before tying the knot.

It’s not like he rushed the engagement for that reason, but if he was perfectly honest, he did wake up in a cold sweat at 3am when he remembered that this meant the two of you would be intimate very soon. 

Jumin’s got that reputation for being some d/s sex-mad sadist daddy, but that’s not the full picture. You might be able to get him into that specific mood after the two of you establish your relationship more. But for the first few times, it’s all vanilla.

It takes a long while before the wedding actually happens. And, no, Jumin’s not gonna really want to have sex for that entire period. Sure, he’s excited about it, but it’s not a driving, burning need. You, on the other hand, might say differently. 

So if you don’t want to wait four to five months, you’re gonna have to breach the topic yourself. And he’ll be torn - on one hand, he rationally realizes that it’s completely harmless to have consensual sex without martial ties. But he also believes in that supposed virtue of being abstinent until marriage. He also liked the romance of waiting. It’d make the moment more special for him.

Either way, he’s excited. The bed’s furnished with fresh sheets, the lights are dimmed, and there’s five dozen roses in crystal vases throughout the bedroom. 

It’ll start with wine while sitting on the bed - if you don’t drink, you have a glass of something you prefer while he’s sipping on some $12,000 vintage - and he drills a hole in your face with his loving gaze while singing your virtues. He wants you naked before he is, so after some kissing you’ll be nude on the sheets while he finally takes his clothes off.

Jumin has no idea what sex is ‘supposed’ to look like, which is both good and bad - you can tell him to do anything, and he’s not gonna worry about feeling awkward or stupid. But he also needs to be told to do anything. 

If you want him to go faster, or use more tongue, you have to tell him. He’s not gonna take the initiative. If you want him to switch positions, you need to describe exactly how you want to position yourselves. It’s a mixed blessing.

The first round goes quite a while because Jumin was taking it slow. There’s a second round where he gets more adventurous, and maybe a third round depending on how you feel. 

The next morning, the chef’s been hired to prepare a special breakfast, and you can tell that they know. Jumin doesn’t care. He just smiles all day.

– Saeyoung –

He actually was a virgin, which was kinda a surprise. His agent job never require any sort of sex-related work, thank god, and it’s not like he ever earned the attention of anybody else before this point. 

If an agency job had enough time to have sex while in the field, then that meant the job was going down the dumps fast. And whenever Agent 707 was involved, a job never nosedived that far.

It’s (semi) canon that Saeyoung asked to be intimate during the after-ending, while on the search for his brother. It was the night before all your plans would come to fruition, and he didn’t know he would come back alive. “I want to leave evidence on you that I existed.”

But it’s ALSO canon that in Saeyoung’s ‘dark chocolate’ Valentine’s Day ending, he asks to ‘take the relationship to the next level’. Which implies that the two of you haven’t had sex yet. 

So what’s the dealio? Basically, Saeyoung wanted to have sex with you that night in the cabin, and after some kissing, you realized that you (1) didn’t have protection, (2) neither of you have been tested recently, and (3) your current emotional states weren’t ideal for sex, especially since Saeyoung was a virgin. He left a lot of hickies on your neck instead, and the two of you held each other close the whole night. 

By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around, it had been two months since Saeran was rescued and Saeyoung was feeling a lot happier. You made it to the end of the scavenger hunt to find an amorous redhead that was ~prepared~ this time. An entire shopping bag full of prophylactics, lube, band-aids, water bottles, and everything. 

He managed to fake a confident persona up until he undressed you fully, then he found himself blushing like crazy when you undressed him in turn. Damn, he really was hiding muscles underneath that hoodie. His arms were woven cable, and underneath his pudge you could feel shapely abs. 

He asked to be on top, you complied, rolling over and allowing him to explore your body with his hands and mouth. It took three tries to enter you, because without his glasses, you were a bit of a blurry blob. But once he was in, he went at it. Maybe even a bit too enthusiastic for the first few thrusts, he was just running on some animalistic instinct he didn’t know he had. 

Two minutes later, he was blindsided by a surprise orgasm. Embarrassed, he rolled off of you and buried his face into the sheets. You had to stroke his hair soothingly for ten minutes before he would look you in the face. 

Saeyoung’s first evening of sex had one ‘disastrous’ first try, then a much better second run, and then after dinner there was a third ... and also .5 a prance while in the shower.  

– Saeran –

You’re his first sexual partner, but more than that, today also marks a big step in his self-confidence. He’s cashing in his newfound tolerance for his body and constitution. Saeran spent most of his life hating his ‘weak’ health and thinking anybody’d be repulsed by him. He wouldn’t have sex if he didn’t believe differently. 

So it’s probably several months - perhaps years - into your relationship that he even brings up having sex. Even though he may be ready, he’s still nervous and shy and unsure about how to proceed. 

Before the big night, he spends several minutes in front of the mirror, looking at his body. He’s gained weight and a new color to his skin thanks to his healthier lifestyle, and there’s this confidence to his posture that wasn’t there before. A sparkle in his eye. It’s incredible how far he’s come from hating every inch of himself. He smiles.

He prepares one of his Patented Saeran’s Romantic Dinners, complete with candlelight and ambient music. The two of you have done this several times before, but this time there’s an electricity in the air ‘cause of what’s to come. You notice that the food has no garlic, or other strong smells. Saeran’s more cunning than he looks. 

As dessert finishes up, he gets more quiet, until the conversation dies down and there’s nothing for it; he takes a deep breath and says, “....Sh-shall we go to bed?” Like this hasn’t been planned weeks in advance. The two of you walk hand-in-hand to the bedroom, where there’s even more candles and another stereo playing soft music, and you picture Saeran putting together a ‘having sex for the first time’ playlist.

You begin by kissing Saeran lying beneath you, but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder and asks to switch positions, because he doesn’t like the feeling of you hovering over him. It’s another mark of his progress that he asks for adjustments. 

Things progress slowly. Saeran feels out what makes him feel anxious, and what makes him feel good. The two of you end up side-by-side as he takes you, facing each other with your legs wrapped around his waist. Very intimate. Very sweet. He loves threading his fingers through your hair, and he mewls every time you fondle his ears. 

His health is still shaky, so he only has the stamina for one round before he needs to rest. He all but demands you inch as close as possible so he falls asleep holding you tight. When he wakes up the next morning, he’s got a 1000-watt smile. 

– Jihyun –

Out of the entire wacky cast of Mystic Messenger boys, Jihyun’s the only actual experienced one. You don’t have to tell him that a single pack of five condoms is waaayy too little, you don’t have to explain what dental dams are, or worry about him using oil-based lube on accident, and he’s the only one who actually showers thoroughly beforehand. 

It begins with your typical night of cuddling-and-kissing, then Jihyun says he’s clean and he’s got a bedside cabinet full of supplies. He gently holds your hand and asks, ‘”if you’d like …? We could … if you’re comfortable. If you’d have me.” He’s blushing, but he’s confident. 

Of course, even if you’re experienced, the first time with anybody is gonna be awkward. And Jihyun’s a surprisingly big guy to maneuver. There’s a lot of accidental elbowing, bonking of the heads, kneeling on sensitive bits, and little scrapes. His long limbs seemingly end up everywhere on the bed, and it’s like you’re playing twister. 

Mistakes just make him laugh. You trip over his outstretched forearm and face plant into his shoulder, and he just chuckles and pulls you into another kiss. 

He’s just so soft and loving. ‘Cause to Jihyun, it’s about ~making love~. He wants to go slow, looking into your eyes, cradling your head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

Tries to get you off first, either through oral or otherwise. He’s not a big fan of any positions that turn you away from him, it’s just too rough and aggressive. He’d rather carry you on his shoulders before he prefers doggy style. 

Checks in with you constantly, asks what you like and where you like to be touched. Tries to get you to literally guide his hands. In turn, he asks you to please, touch his legs, his thighs ... yes, kiss me there - 

For your first time, he’d rather have a one-two long sessions than multiple quick ones. He believes sex is one of the most intimate methods of non-verbal communication, and the longer you go in one sitting, the more is passed between the two of you. 

He’s never used toys in his life. If you decide to pull one out for your first time, he’s gonna blush like crazy and actually decline. He wants the first night to be 'organic’. And he’s so driven towards that romantic face-to-face lovemaking, he won’t go too hard or fast, even if you’re begging him. 

After the sex, he wraps you up in a cozy blanket before fetching some hot tea and fresh fruit. Then there’s several minutes spent reviewing how things went, what things worked well, or how they can improved. He catalogues it all for later. 

He rarely wants to fall asleep right after sex, so you might pass out peacefully, but he’s gonna stay awake, just gazing at you for a while. 

[erensnubs]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖

Colt Grice x F! Reader Dystopian AU

Chapter 1

Word Count: 1.6k

Chapter 1 

"Oi, Levi." 

The man looked up from his phone and swivelled his gaze towards you with a disinterested expression. 

"Dear lord, what is it now?" His eyes flicked back to the phone, tapping his foot impatiently. 

You rolled your eyes at his actions and spread your arms out. 

"Do I look hot enough to seduce men so they can sign a really important document because I know they won't listen to me regardless?" 

You twirled yourself around and walked to Levi and posed like it would change the way you looked. It was an old dress, pretty and it barely fit you but it wasn't up to the standards of fashion. It hugged your body in just the  way, and it didn't stand out as much but you felt clean and moveable. You tried to do your makeup but it was back to the regular eyeliner, dark eyeshadow and dark outer lips. You awkwardly smiled at Levi as you posed in yet another cringe worthy way. 

Levi looked up at you and set his phone down on the table. He stood up, and looked up at you and examined your dress. 

After moments of waiting he finally answered, "Why must you worry about your looks? You look beautiful as always and it's the actual document and effort you put in that counts, yes?" He looked at you again for confirmation. 

"God Dammit Levi, are you attempting to make me cry before going out?" you said quietly. 

Levi put out his arms and you fell into them, gripping on to his back, tilting your head back hoping the tears didn't fall. 

Levi was your friend from that hell hole of a place that was "home" for the majority of your life, he was 10 years older than you and you were just a child lost in an unfamiliar area where he found you attempting to make a map to retrace your steps. Your stupid 7 year old self was tearing up the leaves on the ground and tried making a pathway on the pavement when the wind just blew your "guide" away. Levi appeared from the gas station store, wondering how a kid like you was still awake at 3 in the morning. That was how you met. 

 Both of you were living in a place, where you couldn't really call home. You had other friends of course but you stuck with Levi through everything life threw at you, jobs, family issues, relationships. Despite all these hardcomings you were able to get an education, attend college and Levi was able to make a living working for the government as part of the Survey Corps, a specialized group that recons and finds new places and areas for sustainable living. 

Ever since what people called “The Warning”, a series of natural disasters and catastrophes that happened as if appeared from magic, governments have been trying to find volunteers who were willing to find homes for the people who were now without them, due to the catastrophic events going underway.  .

Though you didn't believe it was magic, since humans tend to fuck up their living in some sort of way, you went along with this magic thing, but in reality you knew if people would just believe this was caused by pollution, green house gases, and global warming then we could possibly be of more help than the public. But of course, you were the young, radicalized woman who spoke too much. So you kept quiet.  

Right now, you worked in the same sort of vicinity as Levi. You got a job as a researcher and data collector. While Levi was working out there finding areas to live. You were researching why these events keep on happening, what places ARE suitable, how we can help the common people find homes and security. Levi was the astronaut, you were the astronomer. 

Both of you decided to live together in a condo-apartment that was quite big, well because unlike Levi your job paid MUCH more than your average salary and much more than he made.  You lived together since you entered college so it wasn't that big of a deal. When you got engaged Levi offered to leave, but you insisted he stayed. Of course, you didn't have to worry about that anymore. 

Unfortunately. 

Levi patted your back affectionately, "Best keep going [Name]. I can see Erwin getting out of the car to pick you up." 

You peeped over Levi's shoulder and stared down at the ceiling to floor windows, and sure enough the blonde's slick hair was coming from his car and onto the sidewalk. 

You let go of your embrace and gave a half smile, "Ok… I'll see you later at the after party yeah?" 

Levi nodded and tilted his chin towards the door, signaling you to get a move on. You gave his shoulders one last squeeze as you walked over to the door, slipped on your dress shoes and walked to the elevator. 

*

The doors of the elevator opened and you were in the lobby of the apartments and sitting on the couch was the one and only, Erwin Smith. He was head of the Survey Corps and your "date" for the charity ball.

"Date" was the code word when it actually meant, "let's go to the higher up's ball together so we can convince them to sign papers and give us permission to do shit because you're too scared to take risks to help save the environment." 

You raised your eyebrow at Erwin as he adjusted his tie. He was definitely going all out today, dressed from black, head to toe with a clean blue tie to contrast. 

He walked over to you and hooked his arm through yours, "You look fancy [Name], seeing a special someone at the ball?" 

You swatted him, "Oh please Erwin, I [Name] is into the 50 year old men who just want money. Yes, I am dressing up for someone- and speak for yourself, is someone going that you're dying to see?" 

He rolled his eyes as he opened the glass doors, "You know I strictly mean business [Name]. That's why we're doing this, is it not?" 

You stepped through and outside the apartment complex where Erwin's car was. He opened the door for you, as chivalrous as he could always be. You slipped in with Erwin following.

"I know you're in love with Levi, Erwin sweetie stop denying it~", you say shifting your position in your seat as you kick back the recliner and lay down. 

"[Name]," he says sternly, putting the car in gear. 

You punch him in the arm, "You know it's true old man. The way you smile, the way you look at him with adoring eyes just screams-" 

Erwin cuts me off, "And we're now a happy couple, going to the ball."

You flexed your fingers and laid them on the dashboard, "Yes. Time to convince the higher ups to let us have more recon missions and funding for those." 

Erwin nodded and started to drive, "Hange will also be there to help support us in case you're wondering." 

You nodded. You and Hange were sort of old flings, but ultimately friends. It started back in college and in your earlier years of working for the government but now you were anything but romantic. Of course they teased you and made sexual and romantic innuendos at you for the sake of fun, and more than once you've fallen for it, but of course Hange just calls you "a friend with 'explicit' history". 

Right now, both of you worked as research experts. While you were head of the department, Hange was the bridge between your area of expertise to Erwin's. 

All of you have been hoping for some sort of funding and financial support to help with your recons and expeditions but the government officials weren't up to it. 

Unfortunately, for them that will all change for tonight. 

"Time to convince old men to write their name on a paper," you muttered to yourself, as you rubbed your forehead just thinking about it. 

Erwin laughed as he turned a right and stopped near the opera area where the ball was taking place. The whole block was covered in lights and people wearing suits, dresses. Limos were lined up on the sidewalk getting ushered into a parking area. The Opera, Frieda Reiss Opera House was designed so at night the reflecting lights would shine onto it making it glow a blue-white light. Leading into the house you could see the familiar marble steps that shone like ice, and were shiny like a mirror. 

The government was holding a special ball for their anniversary of having "successful" missions. Of course on the outside, everything looked progressive but the public doesn't know about the countless lives, sleepless nights, endless money that was counted. 

"Damn, Erwin we came in a Subaru and everybody else came in limos? You are a cheap skate," you say as you adjust your dress and unbuckle your seatbelt. 

Erwin pulled over to the side, and parked the car. He fixed his hair, even if it was already in place. He opened the door and stepped out and you did the same. He went over and hooked your arm to him and you started to walk over to the Opera house. 

"Yes [Name] call me a cheapskate, but we are acting very cheap considering our little plan." 

"True, true but we could've spared some to look a little more extinguished," you sigh. 

He scoffs,"Don't act too shallow now Dr. [Name], you need to get your act together to present the plan." 

You walk up the stairs of the opera house, shoes clicking. Right. That was what you're here for. Convince the higher ups to sign the paper. To save lives. So that this mission was not like the failure the previous turned out to be. 

So the others wouldn't suffer the same fate as he did. 

Next

[e350tb]

The Owl House: A Blight on Gravesfield (Chapter Two)

Two

Luz wakes up.

So, ten Puritans walk into Connecticut. Sounds like the start of a joke, doesn’t it?

To be fair, ‘Puritans’ might not be the right word here. Most of them were, certainly, like Goodfaith Smathers, and the excellently named The-Lord-Shall-Damn-Ye-Sinners Marlowe, who seems to have insisted on his full name being used in all conversation. But then there’s the pair we’ll be talking about today, Philip and John Wittelsbane.

You’ve all seen the statue, I’m sure, but nearly all the ‘common knowledge’ about them is actually false.

See, in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century, the Wittlesbanes were big on the whole ‘family history’ thing, but not so much on the whole ‘truth telling’ thing. The story that John Wittelsbane personally chose the site of Gravesfield, and that he personally converted a local Pequot village to Christianity? There’s no evidence of that, and indeed it seems very unlikely, because John was sixteen at the time, and Smathers was the real leader of the exhibition.

Of course, Smathers died in the Pequot War, and The-Lord-Shall-Blah-Blah-Blah Marlowe went out from smallpox in 1639. The others were illiterate, so most of the records of early Gravesfield come from the Wittelsbanes. So it’s very easy for their family to pretend they were more important than they actually were.

Now, in 1642, something very big happens. It doesn’t happen in America, but it’s effects cross the Atlantic. Can anyone tell me what that is?

The Thirty Years War? Close, that was just about ending at this time. Any other guesses?

That’s right, the English Civil War! Or the War of the Three Kingdoms, as some call it today. To put it simply, you had the Cavaliers supporting the King on one side, and the Roundheads supporting Parliament on the other. It’s a gross oversimplification but it’s all you really need to know for this class.

A sixth of all the men in New England went back to England to fight for Parliament, and most people generally supported the Roundheads. Most people. Do you remember what I said about dissenters? Fascinating people with bizarre names, like Fifth Monarchists and Muggletonians. Some of them were very egalitarian, at least for the time.

It seems the Wittelsbanes got themselves mixed up in a particularly weird form of dissension. In 1645, Philip starts writing a lot about witches - but not in the same way that someone like, for example, Matthew Hopkins, Witchfinder-General in England, might have. This wasn’t fear; it was curiosity. He and John began to believe that magic was a gift from Christ.

This was a privately held belief of cause. The war was breeding suspicion in the Puritan populace of Connecticut, and in 1647, something happened in that colony. Something that would set the course for a split between the Wittelsbane brothers that would never be healed.

It was the beginning of the Connecticut Witch Trials.

---------

It was storming in earnest now, the wind shaking the house as the sounds of driving rain pounded on the windows. It was dark enough that Camila had had to turn the lights on, although the artificial light did little to abate the sense of gloom that hung over the house.

They had moved Luz and the other girl into Camila’s bedroom - there was more room to lay them down on the bed. That had been about an hour ago, and Camila was getting more than a little restless. She sat on her chair, facing away from her desk, rapping on the wood with her fingers. Vee paced by the door, looking no less antsy.

“We should call an ambulance,” declared Camila at last.

“What’re we gonna tell them?” asked Vee.

“I… I don’t know,” replied Camila, “But…”

There was a cough.

Camila’s eyes widened as Luz slowly began to sit up, rubbing her head.

“...man, I feel like I got hit by a truck…”

“Luz!”

Camila leapt out of her chair and darted over to her daughter, instinctively pulling her into a hug.

“Cariño, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was so worried! I…”

“M-mom?”

Luz blinked; it seemed like she didn’t know how to process her surroundings. She blinked, and a few tears ran down her cheek.

“Mom!”

She returned the hug, chest heaving. Neither of them moved for some time - there was a sense of unreality, the sudden ability to see each other, to touch each other. For a brief and beautiful moment, nothing else in the world mattered; just them, reunited at last.

Eventually, Camila pulled out of the hug.

“Oh, mija, never scare me like that again,” she sighed.

“Mom, I…”

Luz’s face fell, her eyes widening.

“...wait, where’s Eda?” she asked. “Where’s King? Where’s…”

She looked to her right, her eyes falling on the girl unconscious next to her. She gripped the bedsheets, starting to shake.

“Amity?” she exclaimed. “But… but we’re in the human world! Which means there’s a portal! We’ve gotta get Amity home!”

“Yeah, about that…” said Vee, rubbing the back of her head.

Camila frowned.

“The… portal disappeared,” she said.

Luz swallowed.

“So… we’re stuck?”

“We’re stuck?” The words came out before Camila could stop herself.

Luz’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

“No, no, that’s not… that’s not what I…”

She reached out, seizing Camila’s hands in hers.

“Mami, I don’t want to leave you again, I didn’t - I never wanted to hurt you, I just…”

Camila took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

“Luz,” she said, as evenly as she could, “I think we both need to talk about this.”

Luz bowed her head.

“I know.”

She turned to Amity.

“Is… is Amity okay?” she asked. “I don’t remember her getting hurt.”

“She cast a spell, I think,” replied Camila. “Something about… sharing the pain?”

Luz swallowed, and a few more tears spilled down her cheek.

“Oh Amity,” she said. “You didn’t… you didn’t have to do that for me. You didn’t have to do any of this…”

“Amity?” Vee tilted her head. “Amity Blight?”

Luz turned and nodded.

“Yeah,” she replied. “How do you know… oh yeah, Blight family, duh.”

She turned back to Amity - just in time to see her eyes slowly start to open.

“L… Luz?” she murmured.

“It’s okay, Amity, I’m here,” Luz replied. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay? Just…”

She sighed.

“...it’s just a little complicated.”

 -------

“He really believed in witches from Mars?”

The Gravesfield Historical Society had been closed for the past two weeks; this was the first time somebody who wasn’t a policeman had stepped in since the Jacob Hopkins Incident. But the Society had to keep going, and that meant the museum needed a new curator.

Enter Professor Fabian Stearne.

Stearne was an older man, somewhere between fifty and sixty, and looked every inch the prof. The tweed jacket, the blue shirt (tie roguishly discarded), the purple cardigan and the fire-engine red vans painted the picture of a charming eccentric, not hindered by his half-moon glasses, comb over, and trimmed grey moustache. He was a Gravesfield ‘lifer,’ who had rejected esteemed job offers from Yale and Harvard to head the history department at the small Gravesfield College.

And he’d never wanted to be a curator; if anyone had asked him, he’d tell them he was a researcher, preferring to dig up new theories than present old relics. Yet now there was literally no one else to do the job, so it was up to him.

“I did my PhD with him. Never thought he had that sort of thing in him.”

His assistant, Ben Frakes, was helping him clean the staff room - clearing the mess of weird conspiracy theory paraphernalia to make it a little more professional. Much younger than Stearne, Ben was fairly junior in the history department; he was convening his first course, ‘History and Myth in Gravesfield,’ a small, niche course that he nevertheless enjoyed.

Stearne and Frakes went back many years; Ben’s whole progress from history undergrad to PhD had been done under his watch. The lanky young man, brown haired, clean shaven and with a propensity for leather jackets, owed his career to Stearne, and he was always keen to give back when he could.

If that meant taking doctored photos of ‘owl beasts’ off a wall, then he was happy to do it.

“Yes, it’s a shame what happened to Jacob,” nodded Stearne. “But he’s not the first historian to run afoul of the law. Hopefully, once he’s gotten the help he needs, he can get back on his feet.”

He took the photo from Ben’s hands.

“He’s a clever man,” he said. “Just prone to wild imagination.”

“And animal endangerment?” said Ben, raising an eyebrow.

Stearne chuckled.

“What is a historian without eccentricity?”

“I’m surprised you took this job,” mused Ben, grabbing a box to take out to the trash. “You were always so critical of museums.”

“Well, there are worse ways to spend your twilight years than curating,” shrugged Stearne. “And Mr. Wittelsbane made a very compelling case. The town needs this museum. We can’t lose track of our past.”

Ben chuckled.

“Well, I’m gonna take this out back,” he said. “You need me to carry anything else?”

“No, my boy, not just yet,” replied Stearne.

“Okay, see you when I get back!”

Stearne watched as Ben walked away - as soon as he was gone, he looked down at the photograph, running a hand across it.

“Oh, my dear Jacob, so close and yet so far,” he sighed. “But worry not, worry not.”

He smiled - or perhaps it was more of a smirk.

“Redemption comes for all of us, in the end.”

[thefanficmonster]

Listener

John (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) x Reader (Male)

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE GAME LITTLE HOPE

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: He wishes to be fine, he wants to be ok. He only wants to get over that night, bury it in the past and push forward. But you can’t bury what you can’t see or touch - the scars on your psyche, the trauma, the nightmares. He’s not able to battle it...not on his own at least.

Requested by @dark-pictures-until-dawn Hello dear! Sorry to be posting your request so late. I really hope you have stayed patient enough to still want to read the fic because I’m really looking forward to hearing your feedback, especially since it’s my first time writing a male reader. Please enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

I can’t go home. I feel unsafe and lonely there. I feel how shallow is the meaningfulness of my existence and am constantly reminded of how quickly and gruesomely it was almost taken from me back in that ghost town. How I was prepared to do anything to shield my life as well as the lives of those I was responsible of from the horrors Little Hope provided for us. Speaking of my companions at the time, I think they’re doing far better than I am. Angela is, well, Angela - unbothered by the real problem, rather focusing on herself, mostly appearance-wise. Taylor and Daniel are each other’s support and have finally made their relationship public and I’m really happy for them. They deserve nothing but the best and I hope they get through this soon. Andrew left for home for a week or two to be with his family until the concussion and the trauma wore off at least a small bit. I was really worried for him and still am, but I’m at ease knowing he’s surrounded by people who’ll take care of him.

I, however, am left to my own devices. Devices I’m not sure I have. I can hear the weak side of me whispering to me whenever I get home, telling me it’s ok to break the streak at a time like this, even encouraging me to do so. Telling me it’ll be alright, that I’ll be able to pick myself back up, but for now, I can turn to my old friend for comfort. I can allow the liquor to pick me up like it did then.  But then, thank the heavens, my rational side kicks in right on time - one second before it can be too late. It makes me ask myself if alcohol ever did anything for me except dig me a grave for my own dignity. Did it ever pick me up, or was it always the illusion behind which was the defeat and demise it truly gave me?

This rational side has helped me put down the bottle just as I was about to unscrew its cap, and I’ll forever be in its debt. Lord knows I’d be back in the same awful spot I was in before I started by journey of getting clean. I can’t go through the hellish first months of recovery another time. But the escape is a little too hard to resist sometimes.

Tonight it’s especially bad. This afternoon I had a meetup with the principle of the college during which I had to tell him all that happened that night, all the while enduring his ‘you’ve gone mad’ stare mixed with pity. He doesn’t believe any of us, how could he? I wouldn’t believe it either if I were in his shoes. Still, I’m the one who he bothers the most about it, given the others are students and I’m basically an employee of his and I am not allowed to show any sort of disrespect, no matter how much I’d like to put him in his place, if I want to keep my job.  Having to reach to the dark side of my mind for the memories of that night took a toll on me like it hasn’t been able to in the past three days. I sometimes experience rather decent days during which my mind is too occupied to crack under the weight of the trauma. But then come the nights when I avoid sleeping just to unintentionally sink in deep slumber which is interrupted by a nightmare that sends me in a state of absolute terror.

Those are the instances in which I need metal chains to tie my wrists and feet so I don’t go back to old habits. 

Why I still have alcohol in my house is beyond me. It’s like I’m taunting myself to fail what I’ve worked so hard for. Like dangling a piece of meat in front of a lion. The problem is - I’m both the person dangling the meat and the lion. I end up hurting myself by seeking comfort. It’d be a straight up lie if I tell myself I’m strong enough to resist temptation. The only reason why I do so is to avoid those first few months of the new attempted recovery. If I even attempt it, that is.

Because of the deteriorated state my mind is in right now and my weakened defenses, I have made the only move I can think of - sleeping in the school tonight. I’m lucky to have a couch in my office which I share with another professor, so sleeping here will at least be comfortable. The weather has been holding up well, so I won’t even need to bring out the heater. Just as long as no one...

“John? You’re still here?“

…sees me.

The familiar voice scares me half to death, bringing me out of my spiraling thoughts. I’ve become really jumpy and easily terrified which I consider to be reasonable. Other people are rather cautious around me and when approaching me, which I appreciate. 

The person standing in the doorway with one hand on the handle and a startled expression on his face is my colleague Y/N. He’s the professor I’m sharing this office with. Him and I started working at this college at the same time and we quickly bonded over our first-day-on-the-job anxiety. He is pretty swell guy, about my age and height. He is the laid back professor, you don’t see many of his kind, especially since he is an ECON professor. Some of my students are in his class too, and they have nothing but kind words to say about him and his teaching. While the other professors, myself included, sport suits to work, he shows up in a polo shirt and jeans. He hasn’t missed a single day of work and his class flaunts the highest score in the whole college. That should tell you enough about how professional and well-put-together of a person Y/N is. 

“Um, yeah...I just have some things to finish up.“ I wave my hand dismissively, hoping he’d leave it at that. But we’ve been colleagues and friends too long for him to let that slide so easily. He knows me well, people are an open book to him in general. He has told me he wanted to pursue psychology but his parents talked him out of it which explains his ability to tap into a person’s psyche like a literal mind reader. God knows I need a psychologist right now.

Y/N steps inside, closing the door behind him. “I can wait for you. We could get some dinner if you want.“ He suggests casually, shrugging his shoulders a tiny bit.

My eyes go wide, “No!” I answer a little too quickly and too loudly, causing him to frown in confusion, “I mean...don’t wait for me. There’s no need. It’s already late. We could get dinner another time.”

Y/N narrows his eyes slightly as if attempting to read a sign in the distance. I know he’s reading me. I bet he doesn’t even have to try so hard. I’m an open book that has suffered too much damage recently. And I’m not only talking the events back in that God forsaken town.

I try avoiding his gaze but when he says my name I can look nowhere but his eyes, “John, I know you’re still rattled and traumatized. Who wouldn’t be? Just know that you can talk to me anytime, about anything.“ His hand rests on my shoulder, “I’m one of those people who believes you. I believe you 100%” He chuckles, shaking his head, “I’ve researched that stuff probably more than I should’ve when I was a teenager. And it still intrigues me. Though I’m really sorry you had to go through such horrible events. You know you can take a paid leave for a month or two, right? No one will hold it against you. I’d be more than happy to cover for you if you’d like.” 

I find myself smiling at Y/N’s words, “I really appreciate that, Y/N, but I’m afraid that if I don’t come to work I’ll end up losing my mind. Hell...“ I motion around the office, “I don’t even wanna leave. ‘Home’ doesn’t seem so homey at the moment.“ I force a melancholic chuckle, deprived of almost all emotion.

“Hey, now that offends me.“ He frowns, showing off just how much I’ve hurt his feelings, “You’d rather crash here than come over to my place? Come on, John, you should know better than that.“ He pauses for a second, eyeing me suspiciously before a smirk appears on his face, “You’re just afraid I’ll bring out the chess board, aren’t you?“

I can’t help but laugh, “Not at all. We both know I’m the better chess player.“

A mock offended expression makes its way onto Y/N’s face as his eyes widen, “Oh, you’re so on now.” He quickly open the door, one foot already out in the hall.

I hurriedly grab my jacket and briefcase from where I left them this morning, “Not before dinner, though. My treat.” I call after him, my arm automatically reaching out for him, taking gentle hold of his wrist, “And, thank you, Y/N. This means a lot to me. Your support, your company, your friendship...everything.”

Y/N turns around, sending me one of his bright, dazzling smiles, “I was on board with you till you said friendship.” He snorts, moving his hand so it can hold mine and give it a gentle squeeze, “Jokes aside, John, I really want to help you and be there for you. So, please, I’m begging you, don’t push me away. At least try not to, ok?”

The warmth seeping from his eyes comforts me, helps me forget what’s been bothering me, at least momentarily. He always understands, he’s always prepared to help, to comfort, prepared to give advice and receive criticism. He’s human, obviously, but a human who understands what it’s like to be let down, brought down and forced to pick yourself back up, I haven’t found many who understand that in my life. He was my support when I decided to get clean, my biggest stability pillar, why couldn’t he help me now too? Why don’t I allow him to make me at least half the person he is?

“I’ll try, Y/N. I promise.“

And this is a promise I’ll keep, starting by discarding all the alcohol bottles in my house.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

how to build a universe

(in which aziraphale comforts crowley, and the night sky falls down to earth)

~*~

"Sometimes I miss the stars."

Crowley's voice was hushed, so low Aziraphale nearly missed his words altogether.

They were lying in bed, a habit they'd recently taken to - sometimes at the flat, other times at the bookshop. They didn't always sleep. There tended to be cuddling involved, or reading the newspapers of their respective head offices, or sometimes simply chatting about whatever it was that came to mind.

Currently, it was just past one a.m. They were lying back-to-back in the bedroom above the bookshop, legs intertwined.

"What do you mean?" Aziraphale murmured, almost but not quite half-asleep. "We can go visit the stars together, my dear. Anytime you want."

"It's not that, angel." Crowley rolled over onto his back. "I used to help build them. The stars. Entire nebulas." He lifted his hands toward the ceiling, palms upward, as if he was tracing the shapes of memories long passed. "I filled galaxies with stars of my own creation. My own vision. Color. Size. Intensity. Entire worlds were within my grasp and every choice to be made was my own." He slowly closed his hands into fists. "And now? Nothing. My stars are dying. Some have probably died already." He sighed, and his arms fell down beside him. "Sorry, angel. Didn't mean to go on a rant there."

Aziraphale turned onto his other side, allowing himself to face Crowley, whose gaze was still cast at the ceiling. "Never apologize for talking, dear boy. I may not always know what to say, but..." He pressed a kiss to the demon's temple, near the top of his snake tattoo. "I will always listen to you." He reached out and slipped his hand into Crowley's. "Tell me everything about the stars, my dear. What is it like to build a universe?"

A small smile flitted onto Crowley's lips, and he gave Aziraphale's hand a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, angel."

~*~

The next day, Aziraphale did not open the bookshop. "I'll be back this evening," he called to Crowley before he left. "I have a few errands to run. Materials to pick up. Be here around eight or nine, please. See you then!" He made sure to leave before the demon could get in a word of protest edgewise.

While he was out, Aziraphale visited a dozen stores, buying what ended up being a total of three bags of crafting supplies. It had originally been four, but a bottle of paint had spilled and tossing the entire bag away had simply been the best option.

Aziraphale returned to the bookshop at exactly eight. "I'm back," he called as he entered, closing the door behind him with his foot. "Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

Crowley was lounging in a chair at the back of the shop, flipping through a magazine about astronomy. "Not really. Some college student came by earlier. Wanted to give you a gift card to the sushi place downtown." He raised an eyebrow. "Got a secret admirer, angel?"

Aziraphale laughed. "I bet that was Jeremy. I helped him do some research for this thesis, and since he knows I love sushi, I'm sure the gift card was his way of saying 'thank you'."

"Oh." A guilty look flashed on Crowley's face. "I may or may not have... Turned him away."

Scared him half to death, more like, if the demon's expression was anything to go on. Aziraphale clicked his tongue in a mix of disappointment and amusement. "You can be so ridiculous, Crowley."

"Anyways," the demon said in a clear attempt to change the subject, "do I get to see whatever it is that took you so long to buy?" He gestured to the trio of bags still hanging on Aziraphale's arms. "I've been waiting here all day, you know."

Aziraphale was equal parts embarrassed and flattered by that statement. He'd expected that Crowley would return to his flat for most of the day to entertain himself, but to hear he hadn't... "Not yet. I have to set up a few things first."

Crowley frowned. "Should I feel afraid or flattered by whatever it is you're planning?"

Aziraphale shrugged. "I guess you'll find out!" he said as he climbed up the stairs. "I'll let you know when everything is ready." He hastily made his way to the bedroom, carefully placing the bags on the floor before shutting the door behind him. He had quite a lot of preparations to make.

~*~

Though it took several miracles - probably more than necessary, to be fair - Aziraphale had transformed his bedroom into what was needed for Crowley's surprise. Tarp on the floor, bed transported away, paints and glitters lined up against the wall - oh, he hoped this was a good idea.

"Alright," he called as he reopened the bedroom, yanking the door in order to pull it open over the tarp. "You can come up now."

There was the quiet patter of feet as Crowley made his way up the stairs.

Aziraphale prayed the demon would like the surprise. There was a significant chance, he feared, that Crowley would hate what he'd prepared and thus choose not to speak to him for the next century.

Again.

"Angel." Crowley was standing in the doorway, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What's all this?"

Aziraphale clasped his hands together, doing his best to pretend he was perfectly calm. "Well, when I went out today I bought some paint," he began, gesturing to the assorted craft supplies lined up neatly against the wall. "I also purchased a few containers of glitter. I think some of the paint may even have glitter in it!" He laughed nervously, twisting his pinky ring around his finger as he so often did when he was stressed. "I bought paintbrushes as well, of course. And paint trays. I also got these small stars that you can peel the backs off of and stick on the wall. They glow in the dark, I believe." He was rambling too much about his purchases. Time to move on.

Aziraphale stepped closer to Crowley, gently taking the demon's hands in his and praying his palms weren't sweaty. "I can't give you the power to create galaxies, my dear. And I can't give you the power to hold the world in your hands, either. But..." He took a deep breath. "You can build a universe in here, if you'd like. Every decision, every choice to be made will be up to you."

Aziraphale bit his lip, breaking eye contact with the demon. If it could even be called eye contact. Those glasses of his had a way of hiding too many things, in Aziraphale's opinion.

He silently pleaded for Crowley to speak. The quiet, the complete lack of any sort of reaction was getting to be too much to bear. "I know I may be stepping out of line with this, and if I am please tell me, my dear. But..." He trailed off as Crowley pulled his hands away and slowly removed his sunglasses.

The demon turned away from the angel, taking time to examine each wall. Aziraphale knew, somehow, that Crowley was looking far beyond the confines of the room. Perhaps even beyond the stars.

He waited for Crowley to speak, but no words ever left the demon's mouth. Instead, he knelt down and began pouring paint into trays, sprinkling various colors of glitter into them, too. He rolled up his sleeves before grabbing a paintbrush, standing up and returning his attention to the wall in front of him.

Aziraphale paused. He felt that he was... Intruding on what was clearly an intimate moment for Crowley. "Well," he said. "I suppose I'll leave you to it -" He was interrupted by Crowley grabbing his arm, not saying a word as he placed a paintbrush in the angel's hand.

But, after 6000 years, words weren't always necessary between them.

"Alright," Aziraphale whispered. He took off his jacket and dropped it on the ground outside the room. "Alright, my dear. We'll do it together."

And so they painted. They painted and they painted and they stuck glow-in-the-dark stars on the walls until the room had been transformed into the night sky. Colors spiraled from corner to corner, deep shades of black and blue, vibrant palettes of purple and gold, and fading hues of pastel pink and glittering silver. It was impossible to tell where one wall ended and another began.

Both had flecks of paint decorating their clothes, and pieces of glitter sparkled in their hair. There was silence between them as they stood together and examined the finished product.

"Thank you, angel," Crowley murmured after a long pause, tossing his paintbrush on the floor. "Thank you."

Aziraphale felt a relieved smile form on his lips, and he too put his paintbrush down. "You're very welcome, my dear. I must admit, I was worried that -"

He was cut off as Crowley spun around and grabbed his collar, pulling the angel into an intense kiss.

Such direct affection was rare from the demon, but certainly not unwelcome. Aziraphale found himself melting into the kiss, reaching out to wrap his arms around Crowley's waist and holding him so close there was hardly an inch of space between them.

When the demon finally pulled away, he didn't let go of Aziraphale, nor did Aziraphale let go of him. Instead, Crowley's hands moved to cup the angel's face.

"You know," Crowley murmured, "you said couldn't give me the power to hold the world in my hands. But I'm going to have to beg to differ." His thumb brushed Aziraphale's cheek, leaving a glittering purple smear in its wake. "I'm holding my world right now."

Aziraphale's heart skipped a beat. Or maybe two. "Oh, Lord," he finally said, softening. "You can be such a sap."

Crowley shrugged. "Maybe." He traced a silver spiral on Aziraphale's other cheek. "But I mean it."

"My dear." Aziraphale stood on his tiptoes to give Crowley a chaste kiss on the nose. "I know you do."

And, as their lips met a second time, the lights in the room went off. Neither recalled doing it, assuming the other to be responsible.

Around them, the stars on the walls twinkled, a dozen shades of color and intensity. It was as if they were floating in the sky instead of standing in what used to be Aziraphale's bedroom.

And maybe they were. All it took to build a universe, it seemed, was a couple gallons of paint, one or two bottles of glitter, and a few packages of glow-in-the-dark stars.

The most important piece, of course, was love. (Isn't it always?)

And, fortunately for them, there was six millennia worth of love to go around.

~*~

[leechangjoons]

Cascade the Flute (TK:EM Fic)

Now you must be wondering why I’m writing fic for this when I don’t even go here. 

It’s simple. I wasn’t given enough Lee Jungjin, and KES can suck my dick for her ableist cop-out. 

With a billion parallel universes out there, the half of the flute Manpasikjeok Rim carries chooses one of his unwitting victims: the paralysed, mute copy of himself in modern day Korea, who reacts to his equally royal bloodline. 

Republic of Korea, 1994

This was supposed to be quick and dirty, Rim sighed as he stalked into the house. He easily located the limp man in the wheelchair, dirty and disheveled, his limbs sagged and moaning unintelligibly. 

He was disgusted at this. Of course his copy would be this downtrodden cripple who couldn’t even defend himself. Rim’d done his research about matters: he’d been a history professor who specialised in artefacts not unlike the Manpasikjeok before his good-for-nothing brother wasted away the family fortune, and an unexplained fall in the college he’d been working out of left him in this state. 

As he reached over to start choking the other man, the half of the Manpasikjeok with him began to vibrate, before it glowed. Seongjae’s hand reached out, his eyes gaining a glint of hope seeing the object he’d done extensive research on respond to him, and without warning, the chunk of flute darted from his hand and towards Seongjae’s. Rim cursed, a snarl forming across his face as he shifted to taking the gun out instead. 

“I was going to make this painless, but you force my hand,” he growled, and Seongjae examined the flute. Like Rim, he easily cloaked himself in a glow, his limp body responding to the flute’s movements more than it being voluntary. The gleam from the flute engulfed him, and Seongjae vanished- with the flute in hand from the room. 

“Seongjae-ah--” came another voice, and Rim took this opportunity to make his getaway. He had his own power to replicate the portals, but first...he needed to hunt down the person who’d stolen the flute under his nose. He clicked the gun’s safety back on, sliding it into his coat before heading out on his own. He had other things to put into motion. This was only a small setback. 

----- 

The Blue House, Korea(?), 2020 

The president was greeted by some of her guards regarding an intruder who’d fallen from seemingly space, clutching a half of some sort of flute tightly in his right hand but unable to respond to them because he couldn’t speak. The woman in shades flourished her hand with a sigh, making her way over to the holding area to see how she could help. Alongside her followed a smug, wheelchair-using man, a tablet in hand as he turned towards his companion with a smirk. 

“What should we do, Yoonah-noona,” he asked, following her towards the cell and peering in with curiosity, “Oh fuck, you will not believe this.” 

Seongjae stared back, before his eyes too widened seeing a second copy of himself stare at him. This one seemed...cordial. Calm, though with the spirit of a prankster in him, and the man shook his head furiously in concern and worry. He couldn’t move (curse the fact that he was locked inside his head this way) but managed another small moan of distress. 

The president turned to her companion, smiling gently. “Well, if he’s you, Sungwon-sshi, then won’t it be your business to return him where he belongs?” she commented with a wave of her hand, “I trust you, though. I’m sure you’d know what to do.” She followed the rest of the guards back upstairs, and as the tapping of her cane receded, Sungwon leant forward with an air of concern seeing himself look so disheveled. 

“I’m Sungwon, great to meet you,” he introduced, and Seongjae nearly burst into tears seeing the lack of pity or murderous intent in his eyes saying this, “We’ll fix you up with something you can use to talk to us, ok? I’m pretty good with electronics, I can get you an eye-controlled word board you can type words out of so it’s easier for you to talk. A wheelchair, of course, once we get a full body examination.” 

Sungwon grinned again, with all the confidence Seongjae lacked after years of being an invalid. “Whatever happens, I’m booking you out of there. I don’t know how you’re going to use that flute when it’s broken like that, but hey, don’t question the messenger, eh?” he laughed, before looking back towards Seongjae once more, “Now don’t give me that look. Where’d you travel from, the caveman age? It’s 2020! We can help you plenty now!” 

Seongjae’s eyes widened immediately at this. He’d time traveled 26 years into the future? Whatever would Jihoon and his mother say? They were probably worried as hell about him right now. He managed another confused moan, eyes darting from side to side at the indication before remembering the cards in his pocket Shinhye’d left in there in case he’d been left outside too long. That should help shed some light on his identity. 

At this, Sungwon nodded and easily scanned the card key to let himself in. “Let’s get you a clean change of clothes, a haircut and maybe some gel to make you look as awesome as me,” he chuckled, parting Seongjae’s fringe to reveal his bright eyes, which slid downwards towards his pants, “You’re in there somewhere. I trust you can tell me who you are and where you’re from.” 

His hand trailed towards it, carefully picking out the cards. “Lee Seongjae, born 1950...wait a diddly darn minute, you’re not even from this part of the woods, and you’re supposed to be seventy?!” he declared, waving his arms in annoyance, “I wish I looked like this when I’m 70!” Seongjae scoffed at this, trying to indicate he didn’t have much of a choice before watching Sungwon rifle through his own pockets. 

Seongjae squinted at Sungwon’s own identification, not only realising how much younger he was (dear lord, he was only 43 while he was supposedly 70). Where the fuck was this Republic of Korea, and why did they seem so much more advanced? 

[starcoanonymous]

My Story with Starco and my Letter of Goodbye

Hi, not sure if anyone reading this will know me but I’m Starcoanonymous. I’m a giant fan of Star vs. the Forces of Evil and Starco and have been in the fandom since I discovered it since the first four episodes were released. I grew this blog and wrote a ton on fanfiction.net as FanfictionForDayz in the hopes that one day, this ship would become canon. Looking at myself right now, it’s really strange how this is the only shipping pair I would truly care for and how obsessed I was by it. I don’t care though. It changed my life for the better. Today, I have finished watching all the episodes of Season 4 that I have missed due to college. Now that Starco is canon, it is time for me to say goodbye. This is more for me to remember the good times in the show but if you would like, feel free to tag along for the awesome ride.

Backstory:

Where to start? To begin with, I’m not much of a fandom guy. I did love to watch cartoons but I would never be a real ‘fan’ of the show. That’s as true now as it was then. The only show I was really ever going to be a fan of is this one.

However, the shows that I did like always had unfinished ships. For example, in Pokemon, everytime I wanted Ash and the girl to be together, they wouldn’t. In Yu-Gi-Oh, the main protagonist would never get with the girl. I hated it when that happened. I wasn’t fully aware at the time what ships were and how much I really hated to see that type of thing. Also to mention, I did not like those drama filled, complicated love stories like seen in Twilight and other media back then.

Around 2015 is when I found SVTFOE. I was a sophomore in high school and things were just tough. I wasn’t being bullied or anything, I just was not enjoying high school very much. Now I know I said I’m not much of a fandom guy, but around that time I was also reading the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series and reading a TON of fanfiction about it. I loved Percy and Annabeth being together but there really was no visual representation to latch on to (the movie did not do that series justice). It was really around then I discovered that I loved to see the characters I loved get together.

Season 1:

The TV in the living room was on and by happenstance, it was turned to Disney Channel. I think it was turned to “School Spirit” and something about the show, irked me. The art style, the personalities, I have no idea but as SOON as I saw Star and Macro on the same screen, I absolutely needed to know who they were and what this show was. So, I decided to give this show a try. Dear lord, you cannot imagine what happens next.

At this point in time, the first four episodes were out and the fifth was about to be released in the upcoming week. I watched the first four episodes and I have never been the same since.

There was something refreshing about this show. Something dare I say, magical, about how they structured the first few episodes. I really for the life of me cannot tell you what that meant, but I can tell you that every single night I rewatched those four episodes OVER and OVER again. I am not joking when I tell you that I probably have watched those four episodes combined at least 50 times. After doing research, I came across two very, specific pictures/gifs created by tumblr user @skleero​ which sealed my fate.

I still have no idea what about this made me go absolutely insane for this show but I do know what made me fall in love with it. The first is the art style. This show’s art style is FANTASTIC. I absolutely love the art style and I praise Nefcy for that in my mind every day. Second, there were no real hints about shipping given out at all. Taking a look at the first four episodes, I didn’t know where this show would take it. I found out however, that I loved not knowing. I hated the idea of not seeing this ship come to life but I loved the possibility that that was the case. I consider this, “shipping masochism.” After all, the goal is worth more if it is hard to achieve.

I was obsessed. Maybe you don’t realize yet how obsessed I was. I literally paused and played each of those four episodes until I examined every single scene where Star and Marco was nearly in contact with each other. Yes, it sounds like an unhealthy obsession but looking at myself today, it truly did me good. It brought me so much joy to watch this show I only have good memories of that time.

Episode 5 comes around and I enjoy it as much as the previous episodes. However, I find out that there is a two month long hiatus until the next episode, “Mewberty/Pixtopia.” To cope with this, I look for other ways to satisfy my needs. I research everything I can about Starco, I scrolled through google images to look for more fan art of it, I even played the game that Disney came out with on their website to promote it. I don’t exactly remember what it was called but I got a tip off saying that Ludo called Marco Star’s boyfriend and that was all it took to get me to play through the whole game and screen shot that exact moment (they later removed that line, sneaky people).

Around then is when I started to read fanfiction for the show. I loved the endless possibilities. I loved not knowing where this ship would go. So, I read every fanfction. Yes, EVERY fanfiction. I first went through fanfiction.net and read EVERY. SINGLE. AVAILABLE. FAN FICTION (about Starco). I became upset that there wasn’t anymore as there were only about 20ish pages of fanfiction stories at the time. So, I went on Archive of Our Own and read every single one there (about Starco). Then, since I still was not satisfied, I read every single fanfiction in the most obscure websites, and saved the text on my Notes app on my IPhone (which I still have. I love these stories).

At this point, I still did not have enough content. I needed more. I found out about tumblr and looked through the Starco tag, but I needed more. So, I got the idea that, instead of looking for content, why don’t I just make it? So, I started up a blog here where I would repost a ton of things and make a few funny edits a long the way and created an account of fanfiction.net where I would write a ton of my own fanfictions on my account FanfictionForDayz.

And so I went, spending all my time enjoying writing fanfiction, watching SVTFOE, watching every scene for every single touch between Star and Marco, trying to find out who Toffee was, banging my face into my pillow as I witnessed Bloodmoon Ball all up till the end of season 1.

Season 2:

At the end of season 1, I couldn’t imagine not being as obsessed with this show, but well, as time flew and there was no episodes for a whole school year, I started to write less and less fanfiction and read less about SVTFOE. I was growing up a little and didn’t have enough time to wait for that Season 2 to come out.

But when it did come out, I was so pumped. It had been nearly a whole year since season 1 ended and there was nothing about to stop me from watching my favorite show. And so I went, absolutely enjoying the show and enjoying the little hints they were pumping out about Starco, even acknowledging the name of the ship in one of the episodes which made me cry honestly.

Then came the dreaded episode. ‘Bon Bon the Birthday Clown.’ All my worst fears were realized. Starco was not cannon and my headcanon of Star and Marco being each others first kissed went out the window. I truly did enjoy the episode but man did it sting. The first realized ship of this show and it was not the main one. I vented my frustrations with funny clips and simply believed Starco would be end game.

Two videos I uploaded during season 2 &3:

At this point, I truly could not bear to write anymore fanfiction. I really only liked writing headcanons, things that were still possible in the show. I did not want to write anymore headcanons with Jarco still being a thing. So I trudged on cursing (not really) Daron for torturing me.

Near the finale, I went crazy. I could not believe Star was revealed to liking Marco. To me, this was the most forbidden thing that anyone could ever do in this show. Why? My previous experience with non-canon ships made me believe that ships were supposed to be on the down low, not mentioned too much as part of the story. This was different however, and out came my excitement as one step towards Starco finally had been accomplished.

Season 3: 

I’m not going to lie, Season 3 was probably my least favorite. I’m sure you can see why. Right as Jackie and Marco broke up, Tom and Star get together. It was like cruelest fate as a Starco shipper. So close, yet so far.

Not only that, I did not enjoy it as much as season 1 & 2 because it put too much emphasis on the drama and love in my opinion. I liked the scarcity of it because it made it all the more sweeter. I also did not like the drama being the main focus of the story. I preferred it in the way that there was a main plot and the drama was just a side plot. Nevertheless, I enjoyed watching every single episode.

Season 4:

Here I am in college, and for the first time, I told Starco to wait. I love the ship but I needed to get good grades this quarter. So when time came for the final season to come out, I decided to wait. I decided for the first time in a long time to get serious with studies. Starco didn’t take away my time for studying at all, I just decided to hold it off until time came where I could enjoy season 4 to the fullest, by myself just like when I first started watching this show. No fanfictions, no tumblr, no news, just me and the episodes.

I achieved the highest grades I’ve gotten in a long time with a 3.8 GPA this quarter. After that, I was ready to watch season 4.

At first, I paced myself. Two episodes a day. So I could fully enjoy them. Eventually, around episode 14 came around and I gave in to my love of the show and spent the whole day watching the rest of season 4.

Watching the show, seeing all the previous characters come back, and realizing how different the show was from the first episode made me realize, the adventure is coming to a close. I knew it was coming and I knew that there probably wasn’t any chance of season 5 happening because the story was wrapping up so nicely. I just hoped. Hoped for the perfect ending.

Finally, 4 years of patiently waiting. 4 years of driving myself so that I could see Starco become a thing. 4 years. And I finally see it. Not only are they simply smiling at each other, they even kissed; a real kiss unlike the one at the photo booth. They are both single, both are ready, both like each other, and both kissed.

Now, as a mature, college sophomore, who has moved away from the cringe of their teen years, I’m sure you understand that I handled it like a mature, responsible- Who am I kidding, I screamed so loud I’m sure I’ll get noise complaints for my neighbors. I praised the world as I saw my ship become real.

Only, there was one more problem to settle.

I didn’t know what was going to happen. Was Marco going to be sent away? This would be the cruelest fate. The universe itself trying to rip your ship apart. I had to hold my breath. Then came the portal at the end of the final episode. I screamed at Star and Marco to run like their lives DEPENDED on it (mine did). 

Then came a most beautiful ending. Hey. It made me want to cry. My ship was canon. That’s all I needed. There are infinite possibilities from what could’ve happened from that point on but to me, I couldn’t ask for better. I would want to see an epilogue of some sort but I’m fine with even this. The deed is done. Starco is canon. And my job is finished.

Goodbye: 

Dear SVTFOE,

Thank you. I am obsessed with you because you portray something I believe in. Tom said it perfectly: “I need someone I can be best friends with.” My teacher once said that your spouse is your best friend. I believe everyone’s fateful other will be their best friend. I wanted to believe in something that didn’t seem too likely. I wanted to believe that anything is possible, and it did. Even if it wasn’t that unlikely, it happened.

You gave me the strength and energy I needed when I felt down. You gave me a reason to grow. You gave me a reason to grow up. Even though at times I didn’t like where you were going, I found that in the end, I enjoyed you through and through. I wouldn’t change a single thing, because I would not have done better. It is about time to say goodbye. One day I will return the favor. I don’t know how or who to, but watch me. I will definitely do it. I will treasure you forever, and once again, THANK YOU.

Sincerely, Starcoanonymous

[alleiradayne]

Hot For Teacher

Summary: Natalie Murphy is a new teacher on the Stanford campus and Sam offers to shower her the Green library. Square Filled: College AU Warnings/Tags: Semi-public sex, vaginal sex, dirty talk Characters/Pairings: Sam Winchester/Natalie Murphy (OFC) Word Count: 2,992 A/N: For @spnkinkbingo this fills the College AU square. And a giant thank you to @atc74 for beta’ing all of my shit lately. I also accidentally deleted this trying to edit it so if you get the notification and want to reblog it again, feel free. Song: Hot for Teacher by Van Halen.

“Sam? Are you… hello?”

Natalie crossed the threshold of Sam Winchester’s office as she knocked on the trim. “Are you in here?”

Stacks of books towered in piles, covering every inch of the floor and taking up every surface available. He had amassed a tiny library of his own over the years, his passion for knowledge boundless.

“Back here, Professor Murphy!”

Natalie followed the sound of his voice as she placed careful steps, navigating the maze of books. “You know, if I'm going to call you Sam, you can call me Natalie.”

Silence meet her ears as she listened, all sounds dampened by the heavy books that surrounded her. A rustle of paper from behind served as her only warning before Sam appeared with a book in hand, hair disheveled, and glasses askew.

“I know, Professor,” he started. “Found the book you mentioned.”

Mythical Creatures of the Renaissance rested in her hands at long last. “Oh, Professor Winchester, thank you so much! I've been digging through the library for weeks!”

“It's Sam,” he stated as he towered over her with his dimpled smile and brilliant hazel eyes. “And I found it right away. Our library is odd. If you want, I can show you around some time?”

His office had grown too hot in the span of a single heartbeat. It wasn't as if she hadn't noticed before, but so close, she consumed every single amazing thing about him. Perfect lips, gorgeous hair, strong jaw, and stronger shoulders. God, but he was massive.

“I’d like that, Prof-er, Sam. That would be very kind of you,” she said.

“Excellent,” he started as he headed for his desk. He picked out a scrap note card and scribbled on it. “Hand me your book?”

Natalie did as he asked, and Sam opened it in the middle, then placed the card in it. He snapped it shut and handed it back as he said, “I'll see you later.”

She tried to grab the book but instead touched more of his hand than she had bargained for. Fire lanced through her fingers and along her arm to send a rush of arousal straight to cunt.

In a sudden hurry to leave, Natalie rounded on her feet and made for the door, only to knock over a stack of books on her way out. “Shit… ah, sorry, Professor. Er, Sam.”

“It's fine, Natalie,” he excused as he rounded his desk. Near the door he knelt at her feet to pick up a few of the fallen books. In one giant hand, he held four of them, and once again, she realized too late that she stood close enough to smell his scotch and leather and parchment scent.

“You go enjoy your book,” he added as he stood, rising to his full height. “Let me know what you think of it?”

Natalie backed into the hallway as she stammered, “I will… thank you, Sam.”

“My pleasure.”

Green. 2am. Doors will be unlocked.

Natalie shoved the paper into the drawer of her desk and bit her bottom lip. Her watched showed a quarter to two. She had but five minutes to decide if she should go.

How dare he? How dare he presume with his stupid glasses and his stupid nose and his stupid gigantic hands. Hands big enough to wrap around her waist. Big enough to grab her by the ass and lift her onto a table and—

God dammit. There was no way. No. She wouldn't go, and she would scold him in the morning. Yes. He should be stripped of his tenure and fired. But she would at least allow him the dignity to quit on his own.

Maybe it would be best to put it to rest right then. She could meet him in the Library and tell him off for… for behavior unbecoming a tenured professor, taking advantage of a transferring instructor. That would be better. Yes. It was too risky to wait until morning. People might not believe her if she waited. Best if she took care of it immediately.

At least, that was what Natalie told herself as she threw on her leather jacket and stormed from her office.

The quad sprawled empty but for the straggling late-night researcher or reveler. Rousers of rabble dotted the sidewalks as they stumbled back to their campus homes after a Friday night of partying. A part of her missed those days. She felt as though she might have squandered her youth at MIT, attending too few parties and experiencing even fewer drunken nights.

But you don’t become a professor at Stanford by partying through your undergrad.

Before Natalie knew it, she stood at the large doors to the library, towering not unlike how Sam had towered over her in his office. Maybe he hadn’t meant to do it. Truth be told, he hadn’t exactly intimidated her. Hunched shoulders, a lowered head, and bent knees suggested he had done the exact opposite. He was intimately familiar with how intimidating he could be and had done everything possible to prevent that.

Why write the note then?

Natalie wrenched the handle and pulled the heavy door aside with a disgruntled growl. Excuses. Those were excuses and she was making every single one for him because… because somewhere in the back of her mind she hoped he was as sweet and kind and gentle as he outwardly seemed. She liked him, that was true. He had helped her ease into the department and get settled on campus. He cared deeply about his field of study and his cohorts.

Sam Winchester was an honest-to-god real-life Indiana Jones.

She shook the image from her mind as she stalked through the Library, emptier than the campus bars recently vacated, not a soul in sight. Up two sets up stairs, Natalie headed directly for the stacks as per Sam’s instructions. A single research lamp illuminated the space between two massive bookcases at least a hundred yards down the aisle. With a deep breath and a set jaw, she steeled herself for what she was about to do.

When she rounded the corner, Natalie stopped dead in her tracks. Sam at a large research table surrounded by books, one hand in his hair and the other scribbling away furiously on a notebook. He hadn’t noticed her, hadn’t heard her stomp around the shelves, and he clearly hadn't heard her indignant huff.

“Samuel!”

Sam shouted a bellow that startled Natalie so terribly, she shrieked. Her hand clamped over her mouth and cut off her ringing voice, only to tear it away as Sam began to laugh.

“Dear Lord, Natalie, you'd wake the dead with a scream like that,” he said as he clutched his chest.

“What is the meaning of this?!” she hissed as she brandished his note.

Sam took it and smiled. “It's easier to show you around when the place isn't crawling with undergrads. Here…” He stood and offered his hand. “Follow me.”

Serious. He had literally meant to show her around the Library. And she had assumed the worst.

“Sam, I am so sorry,” she started.

He approached her, his hand still held out for her to take. “For what? What could you possibly have to apologize for?”

She shook her head. “I… I came here to tell you off.”

A bewildered shake of his head loosened his too pretty hair from behind his ears. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“Nothing,” she started, “Absolutely nothing. You've been the perfect gentleman. I assumed the worst and—”

“The worst?” Sam interjected. “What do you…” Understanding widened his eyes as he quieted and gazed across the library. “Oh… you mean…”

She cringed at that, then turned for the stairs. “Yes… I'm so sorry, I should just go.”

“Natalie.”

She had barely taken a step. That rolling baritone with its subtle sub-Midwestern lilt suggested too much. But she stopped. Despite everything instinct screaming at hear to go, to leave, a little voice in the back of her head reminded her that he had been nothing but sincere. He had only intended to show her around the Library.

“You're not offended?” she asked.

Sam shook his head as he smiled. “Not in the slightest. Simple misunderstanding.”

Misunderstanding. “Have you ever done this before?”

“Uh…” Pink colored his nose and brow as his outstretched hand faltered. “No. Not… no.”

“Why are you helping me so much? First, you helped me move into my apartment,” she held up a finger, “then my office,” another finger, “then you show me around campus,” a third finger, “a list of the best restaurants in town,” a fourth finger, “and now you’re showing me the Library at… two o'clock… in the… morning.”

His face fell flat as an inquisitive brow crooked towards his hairline. “What’s your point?”

“You like me.”

She had muttered it under her breath, more for herself than for him. But Sam stepped closer and asked, “What was that?”

She looked up to him, understanding scouring her skin with gooseflesh. “You like me.”

“Of course I do, you’re a professor in my department and I hired you,” he stated. “Why wouldn’t I like you?”

Was he really that oblivious? “No, Professor. You like me. More than that. How many other instructors have you hired and helped move in or shown them around campus or given your list of favorite restaurants to?”

Sam searched the surrounding bookshelves for an answer. “They’re not my favorites…”

“Professor.”

“I mean, some of them are, but not all of them.”

“Professor Winchester.”

“The Italian one is actually my favorite, but the rest—”

“Sam!”

“I know! I get it! Yes! I like you! There! Happy?!” he spat. “Look, this was a bad idea, you were right. I’m just…”

When he turned around to gather his books, Natalie reached for his hand and grasped it. “Wait.”

He froze with a bout of tension seizing him in place as he glared over his shoulder. “What?”

“Why didn’t you just ask me to go out? Like on a date?” she asked.

“Uh, you’re my employee,” he started, “You said it yourself. Tenured professor using his position of power over his newly hired instructor to coerce her into having sex with him. The optics are not in my favor.”

Natalie tugged at his hand as she spoke. “But all the nice gestures are allowed so long as you don’t come knocking? That’s a little manipulative.”

“Look, Natalie, I never expected anything in return,” Sam stated as he straightened. “Ever. I know what it’s like to be all alone in a new place. If we had become friends, that’d be great. Other than that, I was just trying to be helpful. Kindness of my heart and all that.”

“Thank you,” she muttered to her feet. “For what it’s worth, I like you, too.”

“What?”

When he looked up to him, Natalie found his gaze blown wide as though she had two heads. “I… really like you,” she repeated with a scoff as her eyes slipped to his shoulders, his chest, passed his narrowed hips, down his long legs, then paused at his shoes. “A lot.”

His hand tightened around hers as Sam straightened from the table. He said nothing, but he didn’t have to. The furious shade of pink that covered his face, rushed through his neck, and colored his collar bone said all the words she needed to hear. He towered over her again, though this time he did nothing to hide his stature, standing tall and proud as he pressed himself flush to her chest. Waves of heat rolled from him, a walking furnace, and so close Natalie saw the subtle damp along the neck of his shirt. As she stared, a tentative fingertip traced the collar of her own shirt, following it over the swell of her breast to her sternum. An unbidden arch of her back pressed her closer as she gasped, and then everything happened at once.

Her jacket fell to the floor in a heap, but once Natalie had dealt with that, she wasted no time with discarding any other clothes. Sam picked her up, large hands grasping her ass, and set her on the research table as she tore at his belt. With the zipper undone, she shoved her hand down his pants and gasped as she found him stiffer than steel.

“Liar.”

Sam unfastened her jeans and rent them unceremoniously to her ankles as he said, “Am not.”

“Then when did this happen?” she asked as she stroked him through his boxers.

“Just now. You do that to me,” he said as he hooked his fingers into her underwear, “That’s what you’ve always done to me.”

She grasped him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him down to her lips for a bruising kiss, so rushed to make up for lost time. Sam’s tongue laved over her as her lips parted, his taste sweet, almost bitter. When he tugged at her underwear, Natalie parted from him with a surprised moan.

“What about all that talk about the sanctity of library,” he breathed against her lips.

“Forget the library,” she hissed as she jerked on his pants and pulled him between her thighs. “I want you to fuck me, Professor.”

Sam growled a throaty moan as he withdrew himself from his pants. Long and thick, he cut an impressive figure. And instead of removing her underwear, he wrenched them aside, the fabric cutting into her hips and drawing a seething breath between her clenched teeth. Christ, but he was big. Not that she couldn’t handle him. Good thing all he had to do was look at her to ruin her panties.

The swollen crown of Sam’s cock pressed to hear sopping cunt, and another unbidden moan rent from Natalie's pursed lips. She watched as he disappeared inside her, filling her inch by inch, until his pelvis meet hers and he moaned a sound so pathetic, she wouldn't have believed it was him if she hadn’t seen his face.

“Son of a bitch, Natalie, you feel fucking amazing,” he sighed as short rolls of his hips started his rhythm.

That terribly full sensation stretched her with such an arousing ache, Natalie could hardly think straight. “Holy shit, Sam, that's so good. You’re a big boy.”

The slap of his hands as they grasped her ass once more rang through the Library, and Natalie hoped to God they were alone. When Sam pinned her against a large bookcases, she grabbed his massive shoulders and held on as best she could.

There was no build up or easy crescendo to his pace. Sam pounded his cock into her pussy as hard and as fast as he could—surprisingly fast given their position—and Natalie succumbed to her arousal, that hazy, heady aroma of sweat, spit, and cum all mixing one indelible scent. The slap of their bodies echoed so loud, she wondered how anyone ever fucked in the stacks without getting caught, but that thought soon vanished when he grasped her hair at the back of her head and tilted her chin up to him.

“Your neck is perfect,” he sighed.

“Do you have a thing for vampires?” she panted between his thrusts.

A hungry lick of his lips clenched her pussy around him, and Sam winced as his hips stuttered. “I have a lot of things for mythical creatures.”

“Then bite me, Professor.”

His teeth sank into the flesh of her neck and Natalie grunted back her howl of pain. He soothed the sting with a suckle and long lick of his long tongue, then released her. His lips returned to hers once more for a deep kiss with tiny moans and fervent passes of tongues as Natalie’s hands dove into his hair. Softer than sin, she reeled in complete awe of it all. As each minute ticked by, Natalie drowned, sinking deeper and deeper into his lust filled kiss, his furious pounding, and her impending orgasm.

“Fuck, Sam, I'm so close,” she whispered, their kiss broken for much needed air.

“Professor,” he stated.

She grinned through her moan as she repeated him, “Professor, I’m gonna come.”

“Shit, that’s so hot,” he grunted, face buried in the crook of her neck. “Keep saying it.”

“Oh, Professor, I love your big fucking cock inside me,” she mewled, “Come for me, I want to feel you come in me, Professor.”

Sam’s hips stuttered once more, a hard flex rocking Natalie violently into her orgasm. Her head tossed back, and a long high moan reached the cavernous ceilings of the library as she came undone. Hot on her heels, the warmth of Sam’s orgasm filled her, his grunts and soft whimpers mingling with hers for a song so lewd, her cheeks stung.

Several long breaths traded between them before Sam and his blessed strength carried her back to the table. There, she looked up to find his hazel gaze so brilliant, the gold and blue and green shined even in the shadowy dark of the library. His lips found hers then for a tender kiss as he cupped her cheek, and Natalie all but melted into him.

Parted, Sam sighed as he withdrew from her and righted himself, pants fastened and shirt smoothed. Natalie rushed back into her clothes, pants and jacket replaced as though nothing had ever happened. But nothing could be further from the truth. Everything had happened, and she saw that indelible difference in Sam's gaze of longing.

“What?”

He gathered her up in his arms once more as he said, “How would you feel about a proper date tomorrow night?”

A coy smile curled the corner of her lips as she spoke. “Only if you promise we do that again.”

His free hand slipped to the small of her back as Sam leaned into her and held her so close, his lips brushed her ear.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

Reblogs and feedback are awesome. If you want in on the tags, send me an ask or a DM!

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN KINK BINGO MASTER LIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

The Whole Thang:

@atc74  @hannahindie @bevans87  @meganwinchester1999  @plaided-ani-on-hiatus  @oneshoeshort @jonogueira @andkatiethings @elfinmox@wonderfulworldofwinchester @princessofthefandomrealm  @just-another-busyfangirl @jmekitchens @81mysteriouslyme @dolphincliffs  @seenashwrite @canadianspnhunter  @meowmeow-motherfucker @depressed-moose-78 @staycejo1 @hobby27  @pretty-fortune @mypopculturediva @fanfictionjunkie1112 @sandlee44@4llmywr1tings @claitynroberts @maddiepants @scarletluvscas @donnaintx@blackeyedangel9805 @rainflowermoon @winchesterprincessbride @lazinessisalliknow @the-is13 @waywardafgrandma @keymology @sister-winchesters99

Sam’s Sasstresses (Jared):

@morganas-pendragons

[fresh-outta-jams]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered - Part 10

Namjoon x Reader Author: Admin Mo Summary: You’re in college by the time your soulmate tattoo finally shows up, an address. Sending a letter couldn’t hurt, right? Note: hehehehehe Warnings: Some swears, soulmate fluff, mentions of Exp*nsive G*rl... Word Count: 1.8k

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, Epilogue

“Okay, I have two things.”

Namjoon sat at attention, that curious, inquisitive, and slightly concerned look in his eyes. It was like he could feel the tension waiting behind your words. “Yeah?”

“Okay, first, tell Jungkook I’m gonna fight him.”

He laughed. “Can I ask why?”

“This boy...every time I try to play Superstar BTS his rap in No More Dream ruins my perfect streak.”

“Valid. What was the second thing?” Namjoon tilted his head to scratch the back of his neck, leaning further against his desk chair. He had gone into the studio extra early today. You admired his dedication.

“Well, I kind of, uh…” Your cheeks flushed red. Maybe bringing this up wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought it would be, but you pushed on nonetheless. “I was digging around on Twitter, you know, like I do, and I, uh...so one of my mutuals sent me a really old...song of yours...”

For a second, Namjoon didn’t really get what you were talking about, but then, eyes widening, He Did. “No, tell me you didn’t…” He covered his reddening cheeks with a large hand, hiding his face from you. “Baby, I am so, so sorry you had to hear that. It was a long time ago and I want you to know that I’m not like that at ALL anymore and--”

“Joonie, it’s okay.” You giggled at the look on his face. He was so worried about it, it was adorable. You swore you’d never seen his cheeks so red. “Sweetie, really, it’s fine. You were like eighteen. You don’t even want to know all of the cringy shit I did six years ago.”

“Okay…” He nodded, taking a few deep breaths. Something settled over him. You couldn’t tell quite what it was, but perhaps he had been thinking about something. “I was thinking about this the other day, and it made me really sad.”

“What?”

“I’m never going to get to take you to prom.”

“Aww, Joonie, that’s okay. Prom is overrated anyway.”

“Well, yeah, maybe, but it’s not just that. I’m never going to get to ask you to prom. I’m never going to get to see you in your prom dress or take you on an awkward first date and be so, so nervous to hold your hand.” He let out a long sigh. “I hate that we’re so far apart, jagiya, I just want to see you. I think it’s killing me inside. What is it you call it in the States? Soul…”

“Soul sickness. I know. I feel it too. And it hurts, but it won’t always, right? It’s gonna take a little while, but we’ll get there.” You tried to be reassuring, but you were in pain too. “And then you can awkwardly hold my hand.”

He smiled a little, almost hesitant. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

***

“Dear Namjoon,

I’m madly and entirely in love with you. I really don’t know what to do. My whole day revolves around seeing you, talking to you, even if it’s only for a little while. Someday, I’m going to be standing in front of you, and that boggles my mind. I’m 100% sure you give the best hugs ever, and I can’t wait to test out that hypothesis.

I’ve been watching all of your interviews, English and otherwise, and I can’t get over the way you hold yourself. You’re such a leader, so intelligent. You always know what to say. I’ve also been watching a lot of your concert videos and good lord, is it possible to be bias-wrecked by your bias?? Holy shit, Namjoon, your stage presence is something else entirely. My roommate is always worried my jaw is going to get stuck open.

I’m sorry my letters keep getting shorter. I have more homework this semester than I did last semester. It’s been keeping me pretty busy and I-”

Mid-sentence, your phone rang. Namjoon never called at this time, and yet, there he was, calling you. You picked up, a puzzled look on your face.

“Jagiya, can I talk to you about something important?” Namjoon paused and looked at his wrist, running the numbers in his head. “Wait, shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I should be, but I’m not. Continue.” You took a long sip of coffee from your favorite travel mug.

“Are you sure? You look tired. It can wait until tomorrow if you-”

“Namjooooon, just say what you need to say.” You whined, silencing his protests.

“Alright. So. I just got out of a meeting, and I have some good news and I could not wait a single minute to tell you.” He waited for a reaction, but you tilted your head, urging him to continue. “I did some digging and some research and I talked to some people, and everything is going to work out the way I thought it would, and--” Namjoon cut off his ramble. “Sorry. Anyway. I...Well, you know how you said you didn’t know what you were doing this summer and you wanted to get a job to help with school?”

“Yes…”

“Well, I kind of...found you a job.”

“Elaborate.” You only kind of understood the point your boyfriend was trying to make.

“So, you know how when we go on tour, we have a ton of camera people doing all of the behind the scenes stuff? I figured, since you know how to use cameras and stuff, you can just...come with us.”

It still wasn’t connecting all the way just yet. “Wait, give that to me one more time. You want me to...”

He smiled softly, his voice getting gentler. “Baby...I want you to come on tour with me. I want you to get paid to spend every second for several months with me.”

“I’d get paid...to film you. And stay in hotels with you. And…”

“And travel the world with me. I mean, well, if you want to, of course. I just...I thought…”

“Well, yes, obviously my answer is yes.” You wiped at the happy tears trailing down your cheeks. “Oh my god, Namjoon, yes.”

“Good. Good, okay. Alright, awesome.” His heart was pounding hard, threatening to leap right out of his chest. “I’m gonna email you the paperwork tonight and then you can print it out and just mail it to me and I’ll handle the rest, alright?”

“Okay. Alright. Yes. Yeah. Oh my God.”

He chuckled, looking over your shocked state. “Breathe, baby, just breathe, alright?”

“I’m trying to.” You replied, sucking in a long breath and letting it out. “Holy shit, Namjoon, thank you so much.”

“No, thank you for saying yes. I think honestly I would have collapsed on the spot if you said no.”

“Why the fuck would I say no?” You laughed, snagging a tissue from your desk to wipe at your tears. “You are the love of my life, there’s no way I would turn an opportunity like that down.”

“Okay, good.” He smiled, dimples on full display. You swore your heart stopped then and there as you were left to bask in the glory that was your gorgeous boyfriend. His expression softened as he looked at you, and he let out a soft groan. “Ugh, I love you so fucking much. I just want the tour to be here now.”

“I love you too, Joon. And believe me, I’m already counting down the days.”

***

With Parts 1, 2, and 3 of his plan accomplished successfully, Namjoon decided it was time to move on to Phase 2, which would consist of several more parts. The first, and arguably the easiest of these, was to creep on your Twitter, which he usually did anyway.

This time, however, he would be snooping through your followers, not your posts, although he did stop to reread your ReTweet of a picture he had posted a few days before. Your response was something along the lines of ‘oh my GOD why is he so BeAuTiFuL?!?!’ Even after all of these months, he still wasn’t sure how you thought that, but it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside nonetheless.

Refocusing on his plan, Namjoon clicked on your followers and scrolled through the list. It was short, as you had said, but that made it a lot easier to find who he was looking for. Luckily for him, you talked about your friends a lot, so it wasn’t too difficult to pick Lily and Grace from the list. He followed each of them, waited a few minutes, and then messaged them.

RM_fan_94: Hi, are you Lily and Grace? This is Namjoon, (Y/N)’s soulmate…

***

“Dear (Y/N),

As I’m writing this letter, I only have to wait four precious months before I finally get to see you. Four months. It seems so far away, but every single day, it gets closer. Before you know it, you’ll be in my arms. God, that makes me the happiest man in the world. I have a countdown on my phone to the exact minute I get to see you.

I’m seriously so excited. I’ll finally get to introduce you to the boys, I’ll get to take you to Europe, I’ll get to show you around Seoul, and if we have time, we can stop in Ilsan and you can meet my parents and my sister. They’ve been dying to finally meet you. My sister is seriously so excited. And you’ll get to meet my dog!!

So, I’ve been reading the books you sent me and I love them. God, why are you so good at everything? My treasured Petoskey stone is sitting on my night stand. I kiss it every night and every morning. That was embarrassing, forget I said that.

I hope your classes aren’t killing you too much. It sounds like they’re really weighing you down this semester, and that makes me sad. Just hang in there, alright? The end is near. I love you, and I believe in you. Fighting!

The boys are so excited to meet you, Jimin especially. I can’t wait for them to meet you. And you’ll finally get to see us in concert!! I’m arranging to get you tickets for one of the shows so you can just watch and not work and enjoy it at least once. It’ll probably be one of the US shows so you can actually understand what we’re saying.

Oh!! And when we’re on tour, in our downtime, I can teach you some Korean!! If you want, I mean. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But that would be so cute. And we can match outfits and hold hands and go on dates in foreign countries...I’m getting too excited, jagi, sorry.

I love you so, so, so, so, so, so much and I seriously cannot wait to see you.

-Namjoon”

***

You waited in front of the printer in the school library anxiously waiting for the printer to spit out the very, very important documents you had to fill out and send to your boyfriend.

You read over it a little, holding them in your shaking hands before leaving the printing room and sitting down outside the tea shop. You clicked your pen a few more times, reading over the words carefully before you began filling them out.

Tagged: @iie-wakarimasen, @ffantasylandd, @jooniefluff, @chimchimsauce, @mrs-saeyoung-choi, @theprinceoftheundead, @angyexoxo, @copenhagenspirit, @lovelylittlekittn, @lilgaga98, @iminlovewjjk, @feed-my-geek-soul, @loveandwitch, @recoveringflowerchild, @demonic-meatball, @maddieisaacs, @scissorsandtonfas, @carirosesg, @backtonormalthings, @local-mochi, @faliwi, @spoopyela, @nanie5, @ingenu--e, @undiscovered1personality, @andalos, @calspixie, @filtermono, @huhuehuey, @mikey-girl12, @lilliaflurr, @hypophrenium, @sitkafay, @spiicyari, @andeerwilson, @btswerewolfaus, @oyasumi7, @mycurrentusernameisalreadytaken

[magicksouth]

BLOODY MARY RITUAL 🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

We were having a sleepover at my house that Saturday night. Me and my four best friends; Alex, Bianca, Sabrina, and Lacey. We made cookies and watched movies and did our hair and makeup. By midnight, we’d run out of planned activities. It was time to improvise.

“Let’s try that Bloody Mary thing,” Lacey suggested.

Alex, who was sitting crossed-legged on her sleeping bag, said: “What’s the Bloody Mary thing?”

Sabrina, who was lounging on top of her own sleeping bag on the far side of the room, said: “Come on, Alex. Everyone knows the Bloody Mary thing! You stand in front of the bathroom mirror with a lighted candle and say the witch’s name three times. Then her ghost appears, looking just the way she did when she died; all horrible and bloody with scars all over her face!”

“She sounds gorgeous. Just why, exactly, do you think I would want to see the ghost of Bloody Mary?” Alex asked skeptically.

“Why not?” I said from my place on the pull-out couch in the living room. “I’ve always wanted to see a ghost! It could be fun. Besides, I've heard she can tell your future if you summon her correctly.”

“And if you don't summon her correctly - or if she's in a bad mood - the ghost of Bloody Mary will rip your eyes out and leave your face horribly scarred,” Lacey said dramatically. “Or you will be found dead with claw marks all over your face and body.”

“Or you could be trapped in the mirror with Bloody Mary for eternity,” Sabrina added.

“Ooo, that sounds like fun! Disfigurement, death or entrapment. What a fabulous way to spend eternity,” Alex said sarcastically. “Where do I sign up?”

“It’s a load of crap,” Bianca said as she tried to balance on one foot on the arm of the pull-out couch. “It’s just a story told to scare little kids. Bloody Mary isn't real.”

“I’ve heard its real,” I said. “My friend Katie tried it once and saw the ghost in the mirror. Bloody Mary told Kate that when she grows up she is going to become a research doctor who cures cancer and saves lots of live and wins a Nobel Prize.”

“Hogwash,” said Bianca dismissively.

“There’s only one way to know for sure,” said Sabrina. “Come on! Let’s try it.”

I ran to the supply closet to get a candle and matches, and all of us, even Alex and the disbelieving Bianca crowded into our large downstairs bathroom.

"This is a bad idea," Alex said nervously as we lit the candle.

"Not it's not! It's the perfect thing to do at a sleepover," I said. "Like telling ghost stories. Only this one might be true. Here, you hold the candle." I thrust the flickering candle into Alex's hand.

Once the candle was lit, Bianca turned all the bathroom lights. As we stood before the bathroom mirror, I told everyone the story of Bloody Mary.

Bloody Mary was the name of an evil witch that live back in Colonial times. The witch used her black arts to make her young again by killing a bunch of young girls in her village. When the villagers discovered Bloody Mary was behind the murders, they burned her at the stake. Bloody Mary used mirrors to help her locate and enchant her victims, and she cursed all mirrors when the villagers executed her, so that anyone chanting her name three times would be pulled into the mirror with her to spend eternity in the flames!

By the time I finished the eerie tale, all my friends were looking a little nervous. But we were excited too. Maybe we'd see a real ghost! The candle in Alex’s hand flickered a moment and then steadied as the five of us chanted Bloody Mary’s name 3 times in front of the bathroom mirror.

I held my breath, not know what to expect, and wondered what Bloody Mary might say about my future. Maybe I would marry Robbie when I graduated from college! (Robbie was a cute boy that I liked in my science class.)

The five of us waited tensely as we gazed without blinking at our faces reflected in the glass. The only sound was the ticking of the little wind-up clock my Mom kept in the bathroom. I strained my eyes, trying to see through the mirror into some nether realm that I both dreaded and hoped might be there.

Finally, Bianca said: “Nothing’s happening. Let’s just get out of here."

She reached for the doorknob and turned it. The door wouldn't open.

The door wasn’t locked when we started the ritual. I knew this for a fact because I checked the door in case we needed to make a quick getaway. After all, there was the possibility – however faint – that it might not be just a scary story told to frighten little kids.

I rushed to the door, pushed Bianca aside, and unlocked it. But when I tried the knob, the door wouldn't open. Something... or did I mean someone?...was holding it shut.

Suddenly, Alex screamed and pointed at the mirror. I whirled away from the locked door and saw a glowing white figure staring at us from the mirror. Her face was twisted with malice and flames seemed to flicker around her. In one hand she held a bloody knife! It was Bloody Mary.

We all screamed and my friends backed away from the mirror; all but Alex who stood frozen by the bathroom sink with the candle still clutched in her shaking hand. All of a sudden, Bloody Mary lunged forward, her knife-hand coming straight out of the mirror and striking Alex fiercely in the face. Long scratches appeared on Alex’s cheeks and she stagger backward with a gasp of pain; hands coming up to protect her face. A wave of heat and anger poured out of the mirror in a blast that blew us head over heals. My forehead struck the wall and I felt senseless to the floor.

I woke in darkness a few moments later and groped desperately for the light switch. When I turned it on, I found Lacey unconscious beside me and Alex blacked-out beside the bathroom sink with deep scratches all over her arms and legs and face.

Sabrina was huddled sobbing behind the toilet. I pulled her out, and gasped when I saw she was also covered in scratches. She'd been standing too close to the mirror and the ghost had knifed her too.

I shook Lacey and Alex awake and the four of us clung together weeping and shaking with fear. “I told you this was a bad idea,” Alex gasped.

My eyes widened suddenly when I realized there were only four of us crouching on the bathroom floor.

“Where's Bianca?” I cried in alarm. I leapt to my feet and stared at the bathroom mirror, but it only reflected the wall and my frightened face. Oh dear lord, what if Bianca was pulled into the mirror with Bloody Mary? Would we ever see her again? What would I tell her parents?

“Try the door again,” Alex gasped, lunging forward to grab the knob. It opened immediately. Apparently, the door was released from the lock spell as soon as Bloody Mary disappeared.

We ran to the living room, hoping to find Bianca huddled in her sleeping bag. She wasn’t there. We searched all over the downstairs for her. I was about ready to wake my parents and confess the whole stupid mess to them when Lacey gave a yell from the laundry room. Bianca was lying unconscious beside the washing machine with blood and scratches all over her face. The ghost had scratched a message deep into the flesh of her right forearm. It said: "I AM REAL."

My stomach lurched and I wanted to throw up when I saw Bloody Mary's message. Instead, I knelt down and shook my friend's shoulder, trying to wake her up. After nearly a minute of calling her name, Bianca finally opened her eyes. She groaned and rolled to a sitting position.

“What happened to you?” I asked, dabbing at her cuts with a hand towel from the bathroom.

“After that…that horrible ghost knocked the four of you down, it grabbed me by the hair and pulled me through the mirror,” Bianca said with a shudder. “I felt something scratching my face and hands, and I tried to fight back but I was knocked to the ground and dragged along a cold floor by my hair. The ghost tossed me into a dark room. I couldn’t see anything, but I felt the ghost clutched my arm and there was this terrible pain. That’s all I remember until I heard your voices and the light came on.”

She saw the look on our faces and glanced down at her sore arm. She went so white I thought she would faint again, so I pushed her head between her knees until the dizziness passed.

We cleaned up the blood on Sabrina and Alex and Bianca and then the five of us huddled in the living room for the rest of the night; too scared to sleep. We made up some story in the morning for my parents about bumping into the furniture while playing a game to explain the scratches on my three friends. No one showed them the message on Bianca’s arms.

We’ve had other sleepovers since that night, but my friends and I never tried the Bloody Mary ritual again.