#his eyes in the second to last panel the way the light is in his eyes

[the-stove-is-on-fire]

After School Ghost Theory 101 with Professor Fenton

Switch to light mode or Classic Blue to get the full transparency effect!

[Image ID: A four page comic that starts with Danny Fenton standing in front of a whiteboard holding up a white cat. "Question: Do ghosts purr?” 

Tucker: “Danny when was the last time you slept?” Danny: “Irrelevant.” 

Danny info-dumps: “The answer is yes, but also no. Technically, all beings that possess a core are constantly "purring", a.k.a. Core Vibrations. Core Vibrations are a nonverbal, emotion-based communication system between Ghosts, similar to how some living species use pheromones to communicate. The exact tone of each ghost is different the same way people's voices are different. Humans can only hear these vibrations when the frequency passes through their audible range (20Hz - 20KHz), hence the 'purring' sound. When the range dips into infrasound (16 - 20Hz) it can cause feelings of fear and unease in humans that they often associate with ghosts and the supernatural. Also known as the ‘Heebie Jeebies.’”

Danny, wiping off the whiteboard: “Any questions before we move on?"

Danny’s audience consists of Wes Weston, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Danny’s clone Ellie, and Dash Baxter in a classroom. Wes is seated at a desk at the front taking notes. Tucker is sitting on Sam’s lap playing on a Switch, Ellie is sitting on a desk behind them. Dash is asleep at the back of the room.

Ellie, now holding the cat: “Is this Vlad’s first cat!?” Wes: "Could you tone down the floating eyes before the next part? They're kinda distracting." Danny: "What eyes?" Wes: “Please stop gaslighting me.”

A transparency trick on the last page reveals dark shadows and eyes all around Danny when viewed in dark mode. /.End ID]

An Extended Image ID is available under the read more because it’s over 1k. Side by side light and dark mode versions of the transparency trick is also available under the cut.

[Extended Image ID: The post contains a four page comic. The first page shows two comic panels with white borders. The top panel features a bedraggled looking Danny Fenton from the waist up holding a disgruntled fluffy white cat. There are bags under his eyes, his hair is messy, his arms are covered in bandaids and cat scratches, and his nails are painted black. He’s wearing a white shirt with red sleeves and a red oval on the front. In a large green text bubble he says “Question: Do ghosts purr?” A small orange text bubble under it asks “Danny when was the last time you slept?” “Irrelevant” Danny replies. 

In the bottom panel Danny is standing on the far left side of the panel in front of a whiteboard in a classroom with the cat under his arm. He’s wearing baggy jeans with holes in the knees and his classic white and red Converse shoes. The whiteboard behind him has partially erased doodles around the edges including some flowers, stars, and Phantom’s DP symbol. There are a few balls of paper on the floor. Partially out of frame on the wall behind Danny is a poster of  Einstein and above it a clock. Pointing at the whiteboard with a marker Danny says “The answer: Yes but also no” His words are written on the whiteboard. Under the words is a drawing of a stick figure and a green bedsheet ghost with a circle between them. The circle is surrounded by green squiggly lines radiating out from it. Under the circle, an arrow is drawn pointing to it with the words ‘core vibrations’ written on the board. A green text bubble in the space under the whiteboard says “Technically, all beings that possess a core are constantly "purring", a.k.a. Core Vibrations.”

On the second page there are two blocks of text, each followed by a drawing. The page background is a pale, greenish-grey with subtle scuff marks imitating the look of a whiteboard. The first block of text at the top of the page reads “Core Vibrations are a nonverbal, emotion-based communication system between Ghosts, similar to how some living species use pheromones to communicate. The exact tone of each ghost is different the same way people's voices are different.” Under the text, imitating the look of dry erase marker, is a drawing of two simple ghosts smiling and waving to each other. They both have a small green circle drawn on their chest area with green squiggly lines radiating out from each ghost. Between the two cores, two parallel arrows are drawn, facing opposite directions. Under the arrows is the text “core to core communication.” 

Under the ghosts is a second block of text reading “Humans can only hear these vibrations when the frequency passes through their audible range (20Hz - 20KHz), hence the 'purring' sound. When the range dips into infrasound (16 - 20Hz) it can cause feelings of fear and unease in humans that they often associate with ghosts and the supernatural. Also known as the ‘Heebie Jeebies.’” Under the text a red arrow points from the words ‘heebie jeebies’ to a simple drawing of Dash Baxter holding a flashlight and looking scared. There is a cobweb with a dangling spider drawn to his right and a bunch of green blob ghosts behind him to his left. In blue text the blobs say “you forgot to update your mailing address with the IRS” and “you filed your taxes incorrectly.”

The third page once again shows two comic panels. In the top panel Danny takes up the centre. He’s stretched across the whiteboard in a dynamic pose erasing the drawing of frightened Dash with a big swipe. One hand is braced on the board as he looks over his shoulder and asks “Anyone got questions before we move on?” If the image is viewed in dark mode, there are five, messily drawn eyes of varying sizes surrounding Danny. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent. 

The bottom comic panel reveals Danny’s audience to be Wes Weston, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Danny’s clone Ellie, and Dash Baxter. In the bottom left corner, Wes sits slouched at a desk at the front of the classroom with papers and an open notebook spread out over his desk. He’s wearing a red zip up hoodie with white sleeves. His hoodie is unzipped showing a green shirt underneath that matches the colour of his eyes. At the desk beside him Tucker and Sam share a chair with their focus on Tucker’s Switch and not Danny’s presentation. Tucker is sitting in Sam’s lap with her arms around his waist and her head resting on his shoulder. Tucker is wearing a red beanie with short dreads, goldenrod yellow turtleneck sweater, green cargo pants, and white shoes. Sam is wearing a black crop top with a fishnet layer over top, purple pleated plaid skirt, artistically ripped purple leggings, and black combat boots with bright green laces. Tucker has the tips of his dread dyed green and purple. Sam has streaks of purple, green, and orange in her hair. Ellie is sitting cross legged on top of a desk two rows behind Sam and Tucker. She’s wearing a cropped hoodie with the same colours as Danny’s shirt and black track pants with white and red shoes. Her hair is tied in a high ponytail and she is holding the squirming fluffy white cat up in the air. At the very back of the classroom behind Wes’ left shoulder Dash can be seen asleep slouched over his desk. Wes has one hand resting on his desk holding a mechanical pencil the other partially raised with his hand open. In a beige text bubble with red text he replies to Danny’s question with an unimpressed look on his face “Could you tone down the floating eyes before the next part? They're kinda distracting.” Under his text bubble a small blue text bubble from Ellie asks “Is this Vlad’s first cat!?” If the image is viewed in dark mode, there are three visible floating eyes off to the side of the panel. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent. 

The final comic page is a single, full body shot of Danny standing in front of the blank whiteboard. He’s looking over his shoulder, slightly turned with his back mostly towards the classroom and the eraser in his hand. He has an incredulous look on his face. If the page is viewed in dark mode, the background looks dark and Danny is surrounded by dozens eyes of in all different sizes. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent. In a green text bubble Danny asks “What eyes?” In the bottom left corner Wes replies “Please stop gaslighting me.” /.End ID]

[team-frightfur]

(Theyre also blushing but i cant figure out why). Both Kenzan and Johan are more focused on Judai tho, which could either be bc theyre both gay for him or cause this takes place post s4 (so theyre happy to see Jou enjoying life again after his depression). Then you have Fubuki and Asuka in the corner. Fubuki is doing his standout uncoordinated cloudcuckoolander bit by not wearing blue/black/white/yellow like everyone else (get with the program, man!) Instead he's going for that... christmas ensemble? With the rare red....tho now I see it, there's also judais pants and the coke bottles and the red cups and oh my god it was a red/blue/green/yellow colour scheme all along. ANYWAY, while Asuka is more serious with her modest clothing and walking boots, she has this small smile. Like, clearly she's not super duper ecstatic over his dumbass ukelele serenades, but she'll humour him today of all days, not just because it's a special day but because she looooves having her brother back.

Final verdict: this pic honestly just gets better the more you look at it. It makes me wish i had synesthesia just so I could taste the cozy hot chocolate vibes. Like its truly utterly immaculate. Kudos to you for all time!!!

[sunlightmurdock]

ain’t afraid of a little thunder | tyler owens

“now, sweetheart… I know you didn’t come crawling in here in the middle of the night,” his gaze flickers between your shadowed, sullen face and the way your sleep shirt ends at the middle of your thighs. “just because of a little thunder?”

warnings: minors dni, 18+. smut. unprotected pinv. oral (m+f). no physical descriptions of reader except some hair pulling mentioned.

…

Blinding white light flashes, spilling through and under the gaps in the curtains. The furniture is, at once, illuminated a ghastly white. The room remains still, aside from where you lay in your bed, tangled in sheets and breathing softly. 

What comes next isn’t the rolling kind of thunder that usually spills across these parts, there’s nothing slow or melodic about it. It comes as an almighty clap, shaking the old farmhouse down to its foundations. 

Seemingly spurred on by the sound, the wind joins the symphony by crashing into the window, slamming at the shutters and making the two panels swing wide open.

The storm howls now, spilling through these old walls and waking you with a start. You shoot upright in bed, eyes wide and heart thundering in your ears. Rain splatters on the worn floorboards as you look frantically around your childhood bedroom.

“Shit.” You huff out, hurling yourself out of the creaky, old metal-framed bed you had spent your teenage years in. You stumble towards the whirling wind and wrestle the window shut, snapping the latch shut once again.

You had been jolted so violently from your dreams that you aren’t even sure your eyes are open until you’re staring at streaks of lightning painting the dark sky. With a trembling hand, you reach for the edge of the curtain and pull it back across the window.

Even with your view gone, as you slip back into bed it’s impossible to pretend that the storm isn’t happening. It whips at the house, making the foundations creak and groan. Every few seconds, the sky will streak bright white and will roar with another clap of thunder. 

Eyes squeezed shut and the sheets pulled high isn’t cutting it. The weather rages just beyond these four walls, refusing to be ignored. Your heart thunders along with the bellowing horizon.

You toss onto your left side. Then your right. A frustrated sound slips your lips as you thrash onto your back. It’s like the storm is just getting worse. Closer. 

Each flash of lightning feels brighter. Each clap of thunder feels louder. You tremble under the confines of your comforter, lips pursed. You shoot a quick look toward the little digital alarm clock on your night stand. 1:55. 

Panic flares in your chest. You remember being small in this room, terrified of these same storms. The nights where you would tear out of bed and race down the hall to the safety of your parents’ bed.

You’re a little old for that now, and they chose this week of all to be vacationing at Niagara Falls. 

You pull the blankets tighter around yourself, momentarily blinded by the prospect of being alone in this big, rickety house all by yourself in the path of a storm — you’re miles away from help reaching you.

But you aren’t all alone. 

After a tough few days of field work, you had opened your doors — well, your parents’ doors — to a… colleague, of sorts. If that’s what you could call Tyler. You had a common goal, and he needed a place to stay while the two of you got some work done, that was all. It was easier than sending him to the motel an hour away.

He’s down the hall, probably sleeping like a baby, in the guest room.

You couldn’t possibly wake him. He would hold it over your head for the rest of your life. You would never live it down. Being a meteorologist who can’t sleep through a little—

Storm.

It’s that last, tremendous crash of thunder that sends you flying, once again, out of your childhood bed as it rattles the house. You’re cursing yourself under your breath already as you pad, barefoot down the hallway. 

Past pictures of yourself missing teeth and grinning, sporting pigtails and wearing overalls — all images of yourself that you would rather the famed ‘Tornado Wrangler’ himself hadn’t seen. 

The only thing that stops you is a brief moment in front of the door to the guest room, where you stand debating whether it would be better to knock or to just slip in and hope that he doesn’t even notice you.

You should knock. He could be naked. Shit. 

Swallowing both your pride and the lump of solid anxiety in your throat, you close your eyes and rap your knuckles softly against the door. Maybe he doesn’t hear you over the storm, or maybe he’s just a deep sleeper, but he doesn’t answer.

You should leave him alone.

But you can’t stand the thought of being by yourself through this. What if it’s something big? — You should have checked the radar.

You’re already twisting the doorknob, as slow as you can. It complies silently, the door slipping open without a peep. You would have gotten away with it, if you had thought about the light in the hall.

You get a glimpse of him while he’s still asleep. Sprawled out across the bed, laying on his back on the side closest to the door, his hair mussed and his face turned away from you. Curtains wide open, still. His clothes are thrown on the chair in the corner. The sheets are slung low on his waist. A flash of lightning illuminates the ridges through the golden skin of his abdomen. 

Then, that darned light from the hallway casts across his face and wakes him. He stirs, groaning in soft complaint as he lifts his head from the pillow and blinks angrily in your direction.

He says your name, his voice deep and growly from sleep. His tone vaguely suggests that he’s checking if it’s really you, but you’re too distracted to answer him.

Tyler twists his neck and looks around for a clock, pushing himself up just a little and letting the sheets fall to reveal the waistband of his navy boxers. “What time is it?”

“Late. Sorry,” You mumble out, still standing in his wide-open doorway like an idiot. “You should go back to sleep.”

His brows knit together as he turns his head to look at you again. Grumpy looks good on him. Especially when he’s laying in bed, his hair disheveled and his clothes on the floor. 

He presses the base of his palm into his eye socket, every bit as disgruntled as he looks as he rubs the sleep away with his big hands. 

“You gonna stand there and watch me all night if I do?” 

Your immediate reaction is to put your hackles up and get defensive at the accusation, like that’s not kind of exactly how the situation would appear to him.

“No, I just… I couldn’t sleep.” Your answer isn’t really an answer at all. Tyler reminds you of this by simply raising his eyebrows, as if to say ‘and what might that have to do with me?’. You shrug your shoulders. “I was just coming to see if— if you were up.”

“I am now.” Tyler offers. “What did you want?”

Desperately to go back to sleep. You’re exhausted. These past few days have been some of the hardest of your life — and here you are, unable to sleep, trying to find a bed to sleep in, like a child.

You stand there, debating for a moment if you’re going to come clean. It would be easy enough to just admit your irrational little fear and crawl into bed, and deal with the constant teasing from then on. 

Unfortunately, your body makes the decision for you. Thunder and lightning crash together, shaking the house once again. The rain whipping at the shutters does nothing to conceal the gasp-bordering-shriek that slips your lips as you jump and rush into the room.

Tyler’s eyes widen through the dark. His gaze is quizzical as he studies the abject panic on your face, then looks to his window. Then, he looks slowly back to you. 

His mouth twitches. Excitement flashes across his face with a burst of lightning as a grin twists at his mouth.

“Now, sweetheart… I know you didn’t come crawling in here in the middle of the night,” His gaze flickers between your shadowed, sullen face and the way your sleep shirt ends at the tops of your thighs. “Just because of a little thunder?”

“Don’t be a dick about it — I know it’s ridiculous, I just can’t sleep.” You rush out, folding your arms across your chest. As you do so, your shirt bunches and rides up just enough to prove that you are, in fact, not wearing any shorts. He’d been wondering about that.

As he studies your face for the next few moments, you can see that he considers being a dick — and decides against it.

He holds his palms up in surrender, and shrugs his shoulders as he peels back the other side of the covers. Amusement coats his words as he drawls a playful, “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

Closing the door to the hallway, the room is plunged into darkness once again. You trudge around to the other side of the bed, begrudging every moment of this ridiculous night. You should have had him sleep in the barn like you had threatened to. But then you really would be all alone in this big old house.

His eyes follow your silhouette around the foot of the bed, as the sky flashes white once more he takes note of the way your cute graphic tee sits a little higher in the back, giving him just the smallest glimpse of where your thighs meet the swell of your ass.

He waits for you to reach the bed and set one knee on before he goes back to trying to rest. He lays down on his back and closes his eyes as the bed shifts slightly with your weight and the covers wriggle around with your movement.

Then, things settle.

The bed goes still, and so do the both of you as you lay side by side in it. It’s not an especially large double, but the two of you both seem to be choosing to ignore the way his warm shoulder is pressed right up against yours.

It’s just his shoulder. His bare shoulder, sure, but it’s not like you could ask him to put some clothes on — you’re the one who came crawling into his bed in your underwear. You’re just grateful that there’s just about enough room for the rest of you to not graze him at all.

You close your eyes, and inhale deeply. This whole house usually smells like lavender and vanilla, but not now. This room smells like spiced oak and pine, and the familiar smell of his cologne lingers on his clothes, his belongings— his bare skin.

His voice cuts through the dark. “So, you’re not like a bedwetter or anything, right? — D’your parents usually like give you a stuffed animal to get through this kind of thing, or—“

You reach out and smack him hard in his stomach. His hard, taught stomach. “Shut it, Owens.”

The bed rattles with his soft laughter.

“I just— I’m blindsided,” He admits, still laughing. He tucks an arm behind his head, meaning your shoulder now sits in the curve of his underarm. “You’re afraid of thunder.”

You throw yourself onto your side, turning swiftly away from him and tugging away his share of covers just out of spite. “No one will ever believe you. I’ll tell them you’re crazy.” 

He grins in the dark.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not gonna tattle on you — you have no idea how much I’m enjoying being the only person who knows that Little Miss ‘Do As I Say’ gets this rattled over a little rain.”

You roll your eyes, then close them. “Goodnight, Tyler.”

The bed shakes again with another bout of his quiet laughter. “Yeah, g’night, honey.”

The pet names are going to be put to an abrupt end first thing tomorrow morning. You’re going to give him hell before he even gets a chance to open his stupid, pretty mouth. Until then, you have to keep yourself from doing anything that might have you exiled back to your own room.

Once again, the room settles. The rain whips at the windows, soaking the soil outside. Thunder rumbles closer again, but the lightning flashes don’t seem quite so bright. 

You focus on the sound of him breathing. Deep, slow inhales. He’s calm as could be, his weight pressing into the mattress and his body heat radiating under the shared covers. Uncomfortable on your right side but not wanting to be facing him, you roll onto your back.

Unconsciously a few moments later, you roll back onto your right side. Maybe then your left side. After that, your back again. Then your front.  

As you sigh and twist, Tyler sucks in a sharp breath from beside you.

“God damn, will you sit still? — You’re gonna spin yourself out of this bed.” It’s not until he’s done complaining that you realize he’s now holding you. His arm is secured tight enough around your middle that you couldn’t roll over again, even if you wanted to. Facing away from him, your eyes stare at the painted wall.

He huffs, closing his eyes and flexing his arm around you as he drags you closer.

“Go to sleep.” He mumbles groggily, his breath tickling at the nape of your neck. 

Well, if you were struggling before, then the sentiment is entirely hopeless now. 

You lie awake, watching the sky crackle and glow with flashes of colour. Tyler lies with you, feeling you flinch at every boom that follows.

He shifts suddenly behind you, feeling you go rigid.

“This thing really has you spooked, doesn’t it?” His fingers sprawl across your covered stomach, his voice coated with a softness you weren’t expecting. You feel him lift his head and peer over your shoulder, trying to get a look at your face.

“No.” You bite back, trying to tug yourself free from his hold and shift closer to the edge of the bed. You’ll be hanging off of the side if you keep this up.

“Here, c’mere,” Tyler murmurs, catching your bicep and turning you back around. Your brows furrow and your face grows stormy, and he can just tell that you’re batting up to argue with him. 

He opens both of his arms and wraps them around you at once, giving you no choice but to squish against his chest. Your eyes squeeze open as he presses his lips to your hairline. “It’s alright, you’re alright.”

You stare at the freckle on his neck up close as his fingers stroke at the length of your trembling spine, frozen.

“Listen,” He mumbles against your hair as another clap of thunder tears across the sky. “Two, three, four, five — it’s already getting further away. Was just passing us by.”

“I know that.” You mumble begrudgingly against his chest, hating the way your fingers instinctively splay across his bare ribs.

Quiet falls between the two of you. You get it, he’s just trying to help — and frankly you are being a little ridiculous. He gets it, sometimes there’s no explaining fear. It’s just there.

His fingers stop at the base of your spine, disrupting the soft pattern he had going. Just for a moment, before he skims them all the way to the nape of your neck and curls them around the curve of your shoulder.

Once again, his mouth grazes your temple. Barely a kiss. Maybe even something platonic. He’s just trying to settle you. But then, there doesn’t feel like there’s much platonic about the way you’re wrapped together.

“It’s alright,” He murmurs. You can feel the rumble of his voice in your chest as he gives your nape a soft squeeze. “Breathe with me.”

Tyler takes long, deep breaths. Slow, and steady, but not patronizing. The kind that make you feel a dizzy kind of sleepy. You could fall asleep just like this, wrapped in his arms and copying his breaths, but you won’t let yourself. 

You dip your head forwards just a fraction, and press your lips to his bare shoulder. It’s small, and again barely a kiss, maybe even something platonic. Just like his was. He doesn’t say anything about it, and the quiet continues for a little longer.

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat as he leans in, turning his nose towards your hair. “That’s it.” 

You turn your head too, closing your lips softly around his collarbone. This one’s an inch less polite than the others, just a bit more daring, but still easy to misunderstand.

Opening up your palm, you trail your nails along his side, brushing softly from his ribs to his hips. Then, you stretch your neck and reach higher.

His fingers squeeze at your nape as your lips close against his throat. His free hand comes from its resting place against the sheets to curl around your thigh.

The tip of your nose bumps his chin in passing, he looks down while you look up until your eyes are locked together through the dark.

You would never live this down. Your work is too important to risk it all by— he’s kissing you before you’re done arguing with yourself, and your mind is made up.

His stubble scrubs at your cheek as he presses against you, capturing your mouth with his, kneading at his hold on your thigh. 

Your palm presses into the muscle of his back, firm and pulling him against you. You’re the one who hikes your thigh around his hip. He’s the one who twists the two of you and plants you firmly on your back between the pillows.

And then, you’re looking at each other again.

Lightning flashes across the sky, making his green eyes glow emerald for a moment. They search across your face while his hands take hold of your hips.

He looks at you in a way he never has before, all those days working together, his eyes hungry with lust. The intensity in those pretty, green eyes sends shocks of electricity up your spine.

“Just for tonight, and we never speak of this again.” You breathe, eyes wide as you stare up at him. Tyler’s lips twitch.

“You’re gonna regret those terms.” He promises, letting that cocky grin of his twist across his mouth, raising his brows in challenge. You swallow, narrowing your eyes back at him. “But, sure. Whatever you say.”

Right as you’re starting to think that maybe this isn’t worth its risk, he leans forwards and turns your head to the side, closing his mouth around your pulse point. 

His teeth graze against the spot, just sharp enough of a sting to make you gasp before he’s pressing against you harder, kissing harder, soothing his mark with his tongue. 

The tip of his angled nose bumps the curve of your jaw, his stubble scratching at your sensitive skin. You hike your leg higher around his waist, pressing your foot into his thigh. His tongue dips from between his lips, flicking across your jugular before he captures the spot with his mouth.

Your fingers curl around his neck, squeezing at his nape, holding his mouth against your throat. A moan slips your lips as his teeth graze over your skin. He sucks a firm kiss into the spot below your ear.

He hums as your fingers slide up into his hair, rewarding you with another open-mouthed kiss in a spot that makes you squirm. Your eyes close contentedly as his mouth works against the smooth skin there.

When the next crash of thunder shakes the foundations, you almost forget to flinch. 

Tyler twists his head sharply and with a sudden, mutual urgency, you crash together. He pulls you flush against him, sliding his tongue into your mouth and caressing it expertly against yours.

Then, his attention turns to the large, old local team jersey you had worn to bed. It was the first thing you had found in your closet. He doesn’t seem to care, bunching it around your middle and tugging you forwards to lift it over your head.

Lightning strikes as the jersey hits the floor. As his knees sit between your thighs, Tyler studies your body. He has thought about this before, what you might look like under all that office-wear. His imagination doesn’t compare.

He sits back on his knees, cupping his palm over the tent straining against his boxer-briefs. Your gaze flickers downward, eye-lids drooping with want as you watch him palm a hand over his cock.

“Don’t move.” He mumbles, reaching out to settle his other hand against the soft curve of your bare waist. It’s clear that he has a plan in his head, you can practically hear the gears turning as his darkened eyes study your body.

Stroking himself carelessly, he drops his hand to the inside of your thigh and pushes it back just a bit. Then, Tyler groans as he lowers his mouth to your chest. One of his warm, weathered hands comes up to caress your breast while his mouth cares for the other.

He kisses softly over the swell of skin, more gentle than you would have expected someone like him to be. He glances up at you as he purses his lips and blows softly, fanning cool air against your already half-hardened nipple.

Then, that talented tongue dips from his lips again, and traces the colour of your nipple, flicking back and forth across the bud before he finally closes his mouth around it. 

Your head sinks into the pillows as your chest arches eagerly toward his kisses. Moans spill from your lips, and you just know that you’ll be soaked by the time he finally touches you.

He doesn’t keep you waiting long. Amidst his parade of kisses, as he’s approaching your navel, his hand dips between your legs. You almost flinch at the contact, keening into his touch instead. 

His fingertips are featherlight, trailing the seams of your underwear where they sit between your thighs. His thumb presses firmer, experimentally sliding between your folds. 

Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance down as he looks up at you. His mouth twists as your excitement spills through the lace against the pad of his thumb.

This is most definitely territory that neither one of you have business venturing into. It’s certainly going to make your next venture a little bit more tense than usual. The irony of it being your common venture that had led you here isn’t lost on either of you either.

Tyler makes it known that he has every intention of bringing his usual cockiness to this encounter, smirking as he presses his mouth to your hipbone, circling his thumb softly over your clit.

Bright, white lightning streaks again outside the window. It bathes the farm you grew up on in sudden, harsh light. The rumble of thunder doesn’t come until Tyler’s sucking a mark into the inside of your thigh— he was right, it is getting further away.

And he’s getting closer.

You gasp sharply as he opens his lips and dives forwards, mouthing at your soaked core through the flimsy constraints of your lace underwear. 

The next streak of lightning catches all of the shadows in the muscles of his back, working and flexing as he peels your underwear down your thighs. He kisses the length of your legs, nipping and biting as he goes, tossing the lace to some far corner of the room as soon as he’s done.

Your fingers shoot into his hair, squeezing firmly as he buries his face between your legs. Eager and animalistic, he sucks and licks, holding your thighs over his strong shoulders. You shudder. He groans as you tug at his sandy roots.

As you have found with everything else he does, Tyler’s ginormous ego seems to be well-founded. He has every bit the right to be so confident. 

Though, you’ll never admit that outside of these four walls.

He doesn’t need you to. The way your body thrashes and arches against his mouth tells him all he needs to know. 

You hum softly like you haven’t been moaning openly into the chilled room, tugging at his short locks once again. He groans into your excitement. At once, ring finger slides into you alongside his middle. He curls them both into you.

The sharp gasp it draws from you goes straight to his cock, eliciting another deep groan from his chest as he grinds himself against the patterned sheets.

All you can do is breathe, heels pressing into the mattress as you chase his mouth. Unhindered whimpers spilling from your lips as he works his fingers into you. It feels better than good. Incredible, even.

For the sake of your dignity, you’re grateful to lack the ability to tell him how good this feels. 

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Tyler takes a break to nip at your thighs and coax you towards the finish line you’re already desperate to cross. He looks up at you from between your legs. Your head is thrown back into the pillows, your muscles tensed and trembling. You’re fucking yourself on his fingers. “Take what you need. You gonna get yourself there?”

Then, he leans down and licks one stripe along your core, making you cry out. “Or you need me to do it for you?”

“God, you’re an asshole,” You rush out, brows furrowing in concentration as you desperately chase that high. He chuckles softly, leaving you hanging as he waits for your answer. “Yes! Alright? — I need you.”

Tyler takes that answer with delight, pinning your thigh back against your middle with sudden strength as his fingers twist into you. You shiver as his mouth takes charge once again.

It doesn’t take him long to blind you with your orgasm, your eyes balled shut so tight that you’re seeing stars. You’re trembling as he’s kissing across your stomach

He licks his lips, still grinning as you drag his glistening mouth back to yours. Meeting you with exactly the same fervor, rolling his hips into yours. You groan at the gentle scratch of his stubble, holding him close.

“Fuck me.” You mumble against his lips, trying to reach between your bodies to push down his boxer-briefs. Your fingertips graze his straining cock, stilling immediately. You glance down, eyes wide as you take note of his size.

“I don’t have a condom.” He mumbles back, kissing you hard before you have enough time to comment on what he’s been packing beneath that stupid, huge buckle this whole time.

“You— You don’t?” You pant, trailing your nails down his back as he sucks at your throat.

“Didn’t think I’d be needing one.” His hands skim up your middle and grab at your tits together, kneading them in his capable hands. He drops his head to suck at the tops of them, his stubbled cheeks scratching at the sensitive skin in the best way.

You almost growl in frustration, thighs trying to clamp together around his hips. You don’t want the night to end here.

“I’m on birth control. If you’re—“

“I’m responsible, we’re good.” Tyler swears, flicking his tongue across your pebbled nipple. “If that’s what you want, baby. You want me bare?”

Your core throbs at his deep voice, so close and so filthy.

“Yes.” You whisper, arching your chest into his mouth as he turns his head to pay equal attention to your other breast. “Fuck, yes.” 

He finally pays himself some attention, sitting back on his knees and dipping his hand into his boxers. Your lips part, watching through lust-hooded eyes as he fists at his cock from between your legs.

“Take them off.” You demand, more urgently than you’ve been before. Tyler’s lips twitch, but you’re not letting him have this one without playing first. “You’re not shy, are you?”

He rolls his shoulders back, giving a slow and certain shake of his head. No, of course he isn’t shy. Why would he be? 

Your mouth goes dry as he pushes the boxers down his thighs and kicks them off of the bed. His cock springs free, standing to attention against the trail of sandy brown hair that trails Tyler’s navel.

It’s impressive, and pink at the tip. Annoyingly as pretty as the rest of him is.

He looks carved from stone, kneeling between your legs with broad shoulders and a chiseled chest. Hair sprawling across his pecs neatly, and just down his sternum. The same kind of pretty light brown as his hair. Angled hipbones. He’s defined all over, with strong thighs to match.

“You have no fuckin’ clue how long I’ve been wanting to do this.” Tyler’s admission catches you by surprise, and the shock of it is just registering in your system as he leans down and covers your body with his. 

His weight leaning against you feels better than you’d like to admit, caging you in. The storm feels far, far away. 

The tip of his cock notches at your entrance and you forget all of the doubts you just had about what he had said.

“So, do it. Please,” You breathe out, turning your face towards his neck, kissing the vein that trails there. “I want it.”

Tyler revels in the desperate sound you make as he drags his cock between your folds, his lip between his teeth as he watches the tip sink into you. He really has been waiting a long time for this.

He had made the effort in the beginning, tested your boundaries and swung by your motel rooms every now and again. Every interaction you’ve had has been strictly professional, and he wasn’t going to keep chasing someone who didn’t want to be chased.

As your walls squeeze him tight and your mouth sucks at the column of his throat— fuck, he wishes he had chased a little harder.

You roll your hips into his eagerly, gasping as he pulls almost all the way out and drives back in. You trail your nails along his shoulders, squeezing your thighs around his hips. Thunder rumbles somewhere far away, deep and low like the sounds of Tyler’s groans.

“You feel like you’re fucking made for me.” He mutters, pressing his fingertips into the supple flesh of your ass as he hugs you as close as he possibly can. Buried in you as deeply as he possibly can be, he stills for a moment and pants hard.

You make an incoherent sound of vague agreement, nipping at the curve of his jaw as you rake your nails along his shoulder. He groans at the feeling, his hips stuttering.

Pulling out slowly one last time, Tyler glances down at where the two of you are joined. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he buries himself into you once again, hard this time. Then, he’s relentless, dragging against your walls as he bottoms out again and again.

The old bed creaks in complaint under the two of you, but it’s the furthest thing from your mind as your moans threaten to muffle the sound all together.

The sky rumbles again, another loud clap of thunder making your eyes snap open. Breathless, your head whips towards the window. You watch the streaks of lightning paint the sky shades of electric blue and white. 

Again, that irrational feeling starts to gnaw at you. 

Tyler’s fingers curl around your chin, turning you back to face him.

“Look at me,” He orders, giving a sharp snap of his hips and revelling in the way it makes your mouth fall open. “I’ve got you. Just keep looking at me.” 

Dumbly, you nod your head. Your fingertips skim the ridges of muscle in his arms. Warm and strong under your touch, his body surrounds yours. His green eyes are focused and unwavering, his hands anchoring your hips to the bed.

There’s no room left for that stupid, irrational feeling. It’s all him. Fucking into you, and staring down at you, weighing you down into the creaky mattress. 

You arch your back, pushing your chest up against his as he fills you up. Tyler’s hand abandons your hip to hook around the back of your shoulders, grabbing a firm fistful of your hair. 

His other hand shoves hard at the back of your thigh, bending it up and out of his way. Your ankle rests against his shoulder, your mind going blank as this new position allows him to angle himself deeper.

“Fuck— Tyler.” You whimper, eyes wide as you look up at him. 

His hand flexes around your roots, tugging hard and making you cry out. You muffle yourself in the crook of his neck, kissing at his salty skin. 

“I’m gonna come.” You breathe out. 

“Yeah?” He murmurs, lips grazing your ear as his thrusts grow deep and fast. “Go ahead, pretty girl. Make yourself come on me.”

You don’t need to be told twice, grabbing onto his shoulder for leverage with one hand as the other dips between your colliding bodies. 

His mouth is hot against your throat as you circle your clit, his deep and desperate groans filling your ears, the smell of his sweat and faint cologne making you want to bury closer to him.

It isn’t long before you’re spilling over that edge. You bite at his throat, moaning at the way he keens desperately into the feeling. Your thighs squeeze around him, trembling through the feeling. Your fingers scramble for purchase against his bicep. 

Tyler grunts hard as your body tenses all over, your walls squeezing him tight. His pace stutters just briefly, then picks up. Your brain feels like mush, your eyes rolling back as he fucks you hard.

His head falls forwards, resting against your collarbone as he cums hard. His fingers flex around both your thigh, and the nape of your next, his voice strained as he groans. His chest heaves with his next few breaths.

You sigh, contented as you turn your face towards his neck and close your eyes. He lingers there for a moment, covering you like a blanket, gently stroking the spots he had grabbed so tightly moments before.

Then, he pulls out of you with a sigh and turns to flop onto his back. You’re surprised as he drags you with him, eyes wide at the prospect of the famed ‘Tornado Wrangler’ being a cuddler of all things.

He turns your head toward him, wasting no time in capturing your mouth with his. “How are you feeling?”

You smile hazily, turning your face towards his bare shoulder for a moment. “Tired.”

He chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The two of you lie there for a few moments, catching your breath and enjoying the comfortable silence. His fingers trail the length of your spine, swirling soft patterns into your skin.

You almost let yourself fall asleep like that. He makes room for you to get up and watches you walk away as you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

He’s silent, but there’s a smile on his face when you slide back into his bed instead of your own. 

When the sun-rises and pours through the window, it wakes you first. You would complain about the curtains being wide open and the lack of sleep you had managed to get through the night, but it’s hard to when you turn and admire your view.

Tyler is asleep on his back, one arm outstretched toward you. You had been sleeping on top of it. The sheets are strewn messily around his middle and there’s a distinct purple mark at the base of his throat, a reminder of where your mouth had been.

His chest rises and falls steadily, his face calm. His hair is still disheveled, another reminder from last night. He looks even more beautiful in the daylight. 

Then, you remember what you said. Never again. How he had promised you would regret those terms— and you already do, thinking of how you’d like to wake him and repeat last night.

Unprompted, Tyler stirs in his sleep. In doing so, he shifts his hips and announces his morning wood as it stands against the sheets. 

Given that you’re still in the same room, and it’s still technically the same day, this surely doesn’t count as a separate encounter. Your terms could still stand, you reason with yourself as you lean down and kiss his shoulder. 

He doesn’t flinch. In fact, he doesn’t stir at all as you kiss your way down his muscled chest. 

His brows knit together as he starts to come to. He blinks through the abrupt morning light, squinting at the brightness as he remembers where he is. He jolts at the feeling of you mouthing along the length of his cock, eyes going wide.

He takes note, then, of the shape under the covers that sits between his legs. He peels them back slowly, meeting your gaze as you kiss his tip.

“Good morning.” You greet him cheekily. 

Tyler quirks a brow, but smiles. He shifts his hips and tucks a flexing bicep behind his head, settling back down against the pillows.

“It is now.”

[deusfoundry]

zayne domestic fluff brainrot again except this time, it's you who comes home to him, and he finally gets to pamper and serve you the way you always do for him.

you're greeted by a warm waft of air the moment you open the door. the entire apartment is filled with the smell of your favorite dishes and you know instantly that, for the first time in weeks, zayne is home before you.

you hastily take off your coat and shoes, rushing past your cat sprawled in the middle of the hallway and to the kitchen where you find zayne. he's got an apron loosely tied around his waist. it takes you a second to realize that it's your gift from last week, the one that came in bright baby blue with ruffled, lace edges and an embroidered snowman dead center.

"it reminded me of you!" is what you had said when you handed it to him over dinner.

and he had thanked you with a feathery kiss on your knuckles, "i suppose i look a bit like this snowman, no?”

it still warms your heart, oddly enough, despite the fact that zayne has never been one to turn down any of your gifts, no matter how trivial or silly they were. he still has the keychain you gave him secured on the handle of his bag. the ceramic white kitten you got from your trip out of town five years ago sits comfortably on the desk at his office. one cutout panel from a photo strip of you and your cat is tucked inside an antique heart-shaped locket you found in some thrift store downtown. and there's not a moment where that locket isn't on him, one way or another, hung around his neck or buried in the safety of his pockets during surgery.

he adores you, and by extension every little trinket or piece of clothing you decide to give him.

the moment zayne turns down the heat on the stove is when you decide to make your presence known. you take light, careful steps as you walk towards him.

you wrap your arms around his waist, hands settling over his stomach.

and either he knows you've been lingering near the kitchen for a while or you weren't as sneaky as you thought, because he's not startled with your sudden arrival. he merely hums, as if to acknowledge your presence, before immediately melting against your touch. he takes one of your hands in his, the one that's not holding on to the ladle, and brings it closer to his lips.

"welcome home." he presses a kiss over your palm, absentmindedly tracing the lines with his finger. "dinner's almost ready. you should go and wash up.”

"this is a lot, zayne. thank you." you nuzzle a cheek against his back, trying to bring yourself impossibly closer to him as if you aren't already soul to soul at this very moment. "can't i at least set the table? wanna help you.”

"don't worry about it, my love." zayne turns down the stove completely. he faces you for the first time this evening, and you try not to be taken aback at how he looks at you. a bright gaze that makes him look like he’s in a trance as he’s staring at you. his eyes track the few strands of hair that manage to escape from behind your ear. he’s quick to move them out of the way. from there, his hand naturally gravitates towards your cheek where his thumb drags across smooth skin. he digs into the flesh with little pressure. "let me take care of you tonight.”

"if you insist.”

you can't help but laugh at how he sends you off. he’s ushering you to go to your shared bedroom, to get out of the clothes you’ve spent your entire day in and freshen up, but his hand stays firmly clasped around yours. it takes a few weak tugs and a lot of coaxing, of dragging out his name and using every possible pet name that comes to your mind for him to finally let you go.

when you return to your dining area after a quick shower, half of the lights are turned off. there's a set of three candles in the middle of the table lined with the placemats you only ever bring out when your parents are visiting.

zayne notices your arrival as he’s in the middle of placing two bowls of soup near your plates. he pulls out your chair, revealing the small bouquet of red chrysanthemums resting on it.

“for you.”

you’re briefly surprised as you take the flowers in your hands. he moves closer until his palm finds the small of your back.

"if i didn't know any better, i'd say you're planning on popping the question tonight.” you tease.

zayne tries to hide the pink dusting his cheeks by looking the other way. “can’t a man spoil his beloved?”

“oh, of course he can.” you reach for his face, taking his jaw by your hand. gently and with little resistance, you turn his face towards yours. “and his beloved couldn’t be more grateful. really, zayne, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“i got off work early. when you told me you were working overtime, i thought it was the least i can do.”

“then let’s not keep the food waiting.” you smile.

you and zayne eat in an almost complete absence of silence as you urge him to talk about his day. and you find that it was pretty uneventful for the most part, except for the little girl he met in the hospital’s cafeteria.

“her name's mika.” he says between sips of red wine. “she’s six and she owns a cat who's three years older than her.”

you hum, motioning for him to continue.

“i met her little brother too. his name's louis, but he doesn't like being called that because it sounds too much like the name of the girl he apparently hates in school.”

“wow,” you breathe, “look at you, doctor zayne. akso hospital’s world-renowned chief cardiac surgeon and speaker to all toddlers.”

he lets out a low laugh, “i gave them some of the macarons you baked.”

“that’s adorable! did they like it?”

"when they asked who made them, i said they were baked by someone i hold near to my heart." zayne nods as he wipes the edge of lips with a napkin. "they said i should make sure to give that person lots of love."

"oh?" you lean forward, reaching across the table and past the plates of food to find his hand. "i think they might be right, doctor zayne."

zayne chuckles, choosing to indulge you. “i think so too.”

“meet me in the bedroom after i clean up?” he stands up, moving to stack the empty plates on top of each other. but you decide to beat him to it, swiftly taking the plates in your hand and out of his reach.

"leave this to me, love."

zayne frowns. there’s a slight crease on his forehead as he tries—but ultimately fails to protest. “but-”

“no buts. you’ve done enough for me tonight.”

but if there’s one thing about zayne that drives you mad, it’s that he knows when to use your weaknesses against you. he knows which parts of your bare skin to touch, what to say, how to say it. he knows that his hand sitting dangerously low on your back makes it hard for you to think of anything else. he knows that him leaning down to speak directly to your ear, hot breath fanning across cold skin, is enough to cloud your judgement.

“how about we do it together, then?”

bastard.

“fine…” you relent, knees feeling a little weak.

you two work in the kitchen like a perfectly well-oiled machine for the next half hour. he transfers all the leftovers into containers you plan on reheating over the week while you begin to scrub the plates clean.

"perhaps i did make too much…" he remarks at one point. it pulls a laugh out of you, and you bring your soap-covered hand to poke him in the cheek.

"cute." you mutter under your breath.

as the moon draws closer to its peak, you find yourself tucked in zayne’s arms, hiding under the sheets. the silk adds a layer of privacy, an added solace to the already peaceful four walls of your bedroom. and as you drift further into the land of your dreams, you think there's nothing else that could possibly be better than spending the rest of your life with zayne.

and maybe he has been sitting on the question for a while now. maybe he does have a tiny box tucked at the very back of his drawer, just waiting for the right moment to be worn on your ring finger.

[jaylalolz]

Hello :) is it possible to have Nicolas x reader? Can it have that Nicolas was doing a panel for a movie then the reader had a older sister who was a influencer and the reader sister invited her to be her plus one. Whole time Nicolas couldn't stop looking at the reader ? The older sister caught on? Thank you 🩷

❛ 𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

FAN!reader x ACTOR!nicholas 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

SUMMARY, A girl catches Nicholas's attention and he can't help but stare at her the entire time he's doing a panel for his new film.

A/N, thanks for requesting !! hope you like it <3

WARNINGS, none

Nicholas sat on the stage, the bright lights overhead making the audience just a sea of dim faces. He had done these panels a hundred times before—promoting a new movie, answering questions, smiling for the cameras—but today felt different. His co-stars sat beside him, and the interviewer droned on, talking about the intensity of his latest role, but Nicholas wasn’t fully present. His mind was wandering.

Until he saw her.

She was sitting near the middle of the crowd, just off-center but perfectly within his line of sight. For a moment, everything else faded—the lights, the sound of the interviewer’s voice, even the low murmur of the crowd. It was as if the entire room had dimmed, and she was the only thing in focus.

Nicholas blinked, trying to shake the sudden intensity of the feeling, but he couldn’t look away. Her eyes, large and bright, held an unintentional allure that drew him in. She wasn’t smiling or reacting to the interview like most people. She was just there, almost like she didn’t belong in this room full of fans and flashing lights. She seemed… unaffected. It intrigued him.

His heart skipped, and he quickly tried to refocus on the conversation happening around him, but every few seconds, his eyes darted back to her. He couldn’t help it. The way she sat there, so unaware of the effect she was having on him, only pulled him deeper into his trance.

The interviewer turned toward him, asking a question about his process, but Nicholas barely heard it. He forced himself to nod and smile, giving a half-hearted answer about diving deep into character or something he had rehearsed a thousand times. It was autopilot at this point, because his mind was somewhere else entirely—fixed on her.

The girl leaned over to whisper something to the woman sitting next to her, and Nicholas’s gaze sharpened as he watched them. The woman—her sister, maybe—looked over at him and then back at her, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. The sister’s eyes narrowed playfully, and Nicholas realized with a start that she had caught him staring.

For a brief second, his heart jumped into his throat. Did she notice? Did she know?

The sister leaned in closer to the girl and whispered something in her ear, and Nicholas watched as the girl’s brow furrowed slightly. She shook her head, dismissing whatever was said, completely unaware that she had been the sole focus of his attention for the last several minutes.

The panel continued, but Nicholas was barely part of it now. His co-stars took over, answering questions with more enthusiasm than he could muster at the moment. He was too focused on the way the girl casually tucked her hair behind her ear, oblivious to the fact that his eyes kept drifting back to her.

The sister leaned in again, this time gesturing subtly toward Nicholas, a smile on her lips, clearly trying to get her to believe what she had said. The girl laughed softly, shaking her head again, as if the very idea was ridiculous. There was no way she believed that someone like Nicholas was staring at her.

But he was.

As he forced himself to answer another question, Nicholas found himself wondering about her. Who is she? She wasn’t like the usual crowd at these panels—there was no excitement or wide-eyed adoration in her gaze. She wasn’t wearing any promotional gear for his movie or holding up her phone to snap pictures. She was just… watching. Quiet, composed, almost as if she was watching a scene unfold from a distance, detached from the chaos around her.

And that only made him more curious.

The sister nudged her again, this time more insistent, and Nicholas could tell she was teasing her now, clearly amused by her sister’s obliviousness. The girl rolled her eyes, whispering something in return before shifting in her seat. Her eyes flicked toward him for a brief second—just long enough to send a jolt through him—but she looked away almost immediately, still not realizing the truth of what her sister was saying.

Nicholas shifted in his chair, doing his best to hide the fact that his attention was completely elsewhere. His co-star nudged him slightly, bringing him back to the moment, and Nicholas forced himself to smile, laughing lightly at something the interviewer said. He needed to focus. But every time he tried, he was drawn back to her.

The panel was winding down now, and Nicholas felt a strange sense of urgency. He didn’t know why, but the thought of walking out of this room without knowing who she was left him feeling unsettled. He needed more than just this fleeting glance, more than this shared moment of silent connection.

As the final question was asked and the applause started to rise, Nicholas’s eyes found her one last time. She was standing now, pulling her jacket around her shoulders as she prepared to leave, still completely unaware that she had captivated him for the entire hour.

The sister, on the other hand, was fully aware. She caught his eye again and gave him a knowing smirk before turning back to her sister, still teasing her lightly as they walked toward the exit.

Nicholas watched them go, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hear the crowd around him clapping, could feel his co-stars rising to their feet beside him, but it all felt distant. There was only one thing on his mind now.

He couldn’t let this end here.

As the panel wrapped up and the lights dimmed, Nicholas turned to one of the event coordinators, his voice low and urgent. “Can you do me a favor?”

The coordinator looked at him, confused but nodded. “Of course. What do you need?”

Nicholas glanced toward the exit where the girl had just disappeared. “That girl... the one sitting with her sister in the middle row. Can you find out who she is?”

The coordinator blinked, clearly caught off guard, but nodded slowly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

As Nicholas walked off the stage, the applause still echoing in the background, his mind was no longer on the movie, the press, or the questions he’d just answered.

It was on her—the girl in the crowd who had unknowingly stolen his focus, and maybe something more.

[cow-on-a-skateboard]

In the episode about McKay's "second childhood", after John and Rodney sat on the pier with beer and had a heart-to-heart talk, I want to believe that then they returned and John offered to spend the night with him so as not to run around the cabins. After all, he suggested it at the very beginning, when his terrified friend came running to him.

(I tried to depict a relaxed light from those panels that are located in each room, but it turned out to be too bright)

It seems to me that the moment I depicted is a bit mawkish, but due to the situation, this is the best that John could offer him. McKay is scared, confused, and very outraged that his brain is degrading, and he's still aware of it. He curled up and pressed his arms to his body, falling asleep more or less normally, feeling calm and protected. But John didn't even close his eyes all this time, replaying Rodney's last words in his head and sometimes glancing at him with concern.

It seems that his arm has already gone numb, and unpleasant tingling has begun. Sheppard decided to try to change his position a little, but it would be a real success to free his hand. John inhaled and held his breath, carefully starting to remove his hand from under McKay. Because of John's movement, Rodney shifted his head and put it closer to his friend's chest, pressed his hands tighter to his body and shifted slightly, finally languidly and deeply sighing, continuing to sleep. John exhaled in frustration and abruptly relaxed, sprawling on the bed, realizing that he was trapped. At least he was glad that there was less pressure on his arm now, and he gently stretched it, getting rid of the tingling.

It was a little unusual to feel Rodney's breath so close. It's too dark, too quiet, too drunk to ignore his calm monotonous breathing. John finally gave up trying to get out, which caused a quiet chuckle to escape from him. Either from hopelessness, or from the way McKay sighed softly again.

But what will happen in the morning? What if McKay wakes up later and finds no one around, gets confused about where he is, or tries to figure out what kind of place this is by shouting someone's name? Or vice versa, will he wake up earlier, and how about shaking John (or screaming) to wake him up and find out why he's in the same bed with him?

I like to imagine the chemistry between the characters, which can be off-screen. What could be the consequences or what consequences would actually happen.

[crying-fantasies]

Filming/photographing

Masterlist

Featuring Cyberverse! Soundwave, smut/angst, CW: fingering, kissing with tongue, denied orgasm (from SW’s part), mentions of war.

Humans tend to be so insecure about themselves.

It's sickening, how their psyche has been twisted to never be sole enough, always pursuing the example of others, reaching levels of bad health and stupid dress codes to fit right in their own unnourished culture, fed by idiots and narcissism-centered idealism.

His tanks are heavy with worry when he catches you once again listening to the lies of your brethren, almost believing them when it is all you can hear.

He knows what the lies of others can do to the ones simply unfortunate enough to listen, and Soundwave would never let you be poisoned by them again as he captures your interest in him, dragging his servos over your soft, giving body as it yields and bends, skin moving like ripping waves as your weak electromagnetic field pulses along with his.

Maybe it's low, most likely degenerated, he is a mech on a mission when his knee makes contact with yours, legs falling apart to give him way as you follow his frame and lay on the mattress, the light on his visor, a furious invigorated red that burns with the passion only a lover could achieve.

A lover who with enough of the self-hatred stares you give yourself in a mirror.

He pauses and inquires, “Do you know how I see you?”, there is no broken contact between your eyes and his optics if only his visor is the only thing separating you both as his helm looms over you, “do you realize how I see you? Do you understand how I want you?”.

There is no answer, it pains him, to see you like this.

Is it so hard to let you know?

The answer, Soundwave realizes, isn't complicated at all.

“Would you want to see yourself through my optics?”, you squirm under him, fingers over his audial receptors making an effort to get him closer, but he wants a direct affirmation before he flashes the recorder inside his optics.

Soundwave, as a skilled negotiator, can make you see the positive outcomes of the deal, he begins to enlist them, numbering one after the other with his battle mask pressed over your sweet, little port and making you shudder against him, weakly trying to close your legs and stop him, he is sure that is the last thing you want, eliminating any doubts you may have about previous experience, but as a lover, he can hardly contain himself from creeping his digits over your body, making you sing and dance on his servos, you're already smiling nervously, arm over your eyes in an attempt to cover yourself before him, the smile only makes itself tighter as he can't contain himself anymore and the music spills from his frame, the deep bass of his growl and the music makes you vibrate, being so close to him, a sweet symphony fills your mouth, moans and whispers, his spark shines with affection and he can feel his modesty panel quickly being more of a hassle than a necessity, but alas, he can only do so much.

Primus condemns the fact he can not ruin you as desired.

Your affirmation, coming in between moans, finally reaches him, no second is wasted as his optics flicker again, a recording engraved in the deepest parts of his databanks, starting with your eagerness to discharge the fabrics and enticing him with bedroom eyes, fluid movements as he once again presses a digit where you want him, his whole servo manhandles you and pressed over pliable flesh, his digits leave a path that makes him repeat the action as many times he desires. “My spark, you will understand your magic once I'm done”

In between ragged breathing, the realization made you laugh and look at him, perplexed, “Did you just rephrase The Police?!”, Soundwave hums, pleased by your good taste, as always, as his forehelm presses against your head to make you lay relaxed over the mattress once again, digit dangerously playing with your port, coating himself in your desire before he is sure to make it as comfortable as possible.

You sing for him, a lustful symphony as he pumps into your body, every fraction and movement engraved in his memory, every fall and rise of your chest, every tremble streaming across your body from head to toe, the warmth is enough to suffocate as Soundwave presses his battle mask once again over your middle, optics capturing every detail and keeping it for his own, a pleased grin is all you can see as he tunes up more vibration in his voice, his sole digit still mimicking what he could do to you if the opportunity to get his servos over a mass displacement mod were real, but he can't, so all he has to do is make reach your limit with passion overwhelming your incipient electric field, make you fall apart, sing a designation taught to you after long nights of the shared company as he can only grit denta and snarl a deep growl by the pressure over his spike as his valve can only clench over nothing as your little hands come to hold him in place as tremors take over and he indulges you if only a little more, if only a little longer, as his battle mask finally recesses and gives you full access to kiss him all you desire as his designation blooms breathlessly from your lips and dies with his derma over your now frail body, a perfect angle to show your exhausted yet pleased face that makes his engines purr at the sight, trying to snuggle you with the side of his helm as he can hear the thundering of your little heart.

You fall apart, and Soundwave shows you later on, how beautifully you did so, he has just cleaned your body of any body fluid in excess and your breathing is only increasing once again as he projects the recording, the way you unravel in his hold, leaves you speechless, and your face reaches a new level of glow and warmth, it makes him feel proud, finally able to silence the lies in your head, showing you the most obvious and beautiful truth.

As you walked over to him, there was no need for words, he lowered himself to your level, gently tracing fingers over his audial receptor, prompting him to sing, your smile and the warmth in your body signaled another intimate moment.

You brought him close before whispering, "It's time to wake up, big guy."

Back on Cybertron, the planet nearly conquered by invaders, Soundwave is jolted back to reality, away from the recording of a better time, a happy memory, as he takes in the devastation, a moment passes before he fully comprehends the gravity of the situation, and overwhelmed by a mix of sorrow and anger he admonishes himself to pull it together before focusing on the task at hand as Hot Rod calls out to him.

.

Yeah, hand me the prompt of Kinktober and, somehow, I'll make it steamy and sad at the same time, make it longer than I wished for but still believe it's good.

Also, finally settled into working with different continuities.

@tf-kinktober2024

[thescarletnargacuga]

Art by @iamespecter

CHAPTER TEN

Caine and Pomni grow closer while making the next day's race! Caine can't deny his feelings, but Pomni is unsure! The other racers make their own mischief without a track to keep them busy!

WARNING: none!

~~~

Gangle hummed to herself cheerfully as she redesigned the paint sceme and patterns on her kart. She was feeling rosey pink today, so that's what her kart would be for tomorrow. She drew her custom designs on the control panel tablet and they appeared on her kart in real time. "Hmmm....I wonder how many white flowers I could fit..." She was so focused, she didn't notice Gummigoo standing beside her.

"Gangle-"

"EEP!" Gangle's mask went askew but she held it before it moved out of place further. "Oh, hi!"

"Uh, hey...can I talk to you?" Gummigoo looked around to make sure no one else was in earshot.

"Sure!" Gangle put down the stylus and gave him her full attention.

Gummigoo rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the scarred indents of Bubble's teeth marks. "I...I think something happened to me last night."

"A lot happened to everyone last night." Gangle giggled.

Gummigoo forced a small smile. "Yeah, look, I think something bad happened. I went to my room, blacked out and woke up standing in Pomni's room. She seemed rather freaked out by me being there."

"Oh my! I'm sorry, I didn't see you go in there. I was... preoccupied." Gangle glanced at Zooble, a light blush dusting her mask. "Have you tried talking to her today?"

"Yeah, but she brushed me off... wouldn't even look at me." His shoulders drooped. "I consider Pomni a friend, I don't think I could ever forgive myself if I had hurt her in some way...what do I do?"

Gangle put her hand on his shoulder. "Give her space for now. She'll come around when she's ready."

"What if she never is?" He couldn't handle the thought of Pomni never talking to him again.

"How about I ask her on your behalf? Maybe she'll talk to me about it. Girl to girl."

"I'd really appreciate that. You're a true friend, Gangle." Gummigoo smiled for real this time.

"Awwww, shucks. I try." Gangle waved him away bashfully. "Anyway, try not to worry too much. Pomni wanted you here in the first place. I don't think she'd change her mind overnight."

Gummigoo took a deep breath. "I'll have to take your word on that for now, but thank-"

"LOOK OUT!" Ragatha cried out.

Gummigoo turned around in time for a pb&j sandwich to smack him in the face. It slid down his stunned form, falling to the ground with a wet splat.

Jax was laughing his ass off. "I wasn't aiming for you, but I'll take it."

"What's the big idea!?" Gummigoo wiped off the smear of jelly and peanut butter over his eyes.

"I'm bored." Jax picked up a cup of yogurt from the dining table. "That's why." He chucks it at Ragatha, who ducked. The yogurt smacked the back of Kinger's head, who silently turned his head curiously. "Man, my aim is off today." Jax picked up a a mixed berry pie and aimed for Zooble, who had their back to him.

Before Jax could launch the pie, Zooble spoke. "Throw anything at me, and it'll be the last thing your arm ever does."

Jax changed the trajectory last second and threw the pie at Loo, who was hiding behind the furniture with Ragatha.

Gummigoo rushed to the packed table. The bubble chef hovered overhead, amused by the racers playing with the food. Gummigoo got a whole bowl of mashed potatoes, and dunked it on Jax's head.

"AH-MMMPHTH-!!" Jax was blinded and stumbled over a bean chair.

"Fooooood fiiiiiight!" Gangle cheered.

Everyone except Zooble scrambled for the table. They grabbed random handfuls of food and pelted Jax mercilessly. "I'LL TAKE YOU ALL ON!!" Jax warcried.

Zooble sat cross legged in a recliner, thumbing through a magazine. Not a spec of flying food touched them.

~

Caine and Pomni laughed hard together, out of bounds. Pomni has to brace against a colorful mushroom tree and wipe tears away as Caine held his ribs and kicked his feet mid air.

"So- so- okay-" Caine tries to talk through bouts of laughter. "So I said; why would the kart need more speed sets? It's already got three! Here, there, and GONE!"

"Oh my god..." Pomni continued to laugh. "I can't believe Kinger of all people would ask for that."

"Oh, believe it! He's more mellowed out these days, but Kinger was a real speed demon early on. Held the champion title for a record number of seasons." Caine took a steading breath, the occasional giggle escaping him.

"Could you add more speed of you wanted to?"

"Oh, definitely. The only limit is the game engine, but if I made everyone go top speed at all times, that would make the boosts and items pretty boring. Got to keep a pinch of chance mixed in with the strategy required to win a race. Keeps things interesting."

"Fair point." Pomni could finally breath normally again. She went to remove her hat to run her hand through her hair, but it didn't budge. She forgot she couldn't remove it. "Hey, um... what all can you do in the game? Are you really all-powerful?"

Caine was a bit taken aback and looked away as he cleared his voice. "I wouldn't say-....yes, I am. As the administrative AI, everything in the game is mine to do with as I please. The only exceptions are the racers. While I could certainly move you around if I wanted to, I can't control the way you act or feel or anything like that."

"Can you affect our clothes?" She tugged at her hat.

Caine looked her over, an embarrassed blush lightly displayed on the sides of his face. "...technically, yes." He wasn't sure were this was going.

"Then can you PLEASE let me take off this hat? It's a bit obtrusive."

"OH! Oh, yes, of course. Avatar changes are tricky, especially since- Nevermind, but I can help you with this." He put his hands on the sides of her hat.

Pomni leaned against the mushroom tree behind her, watching Caine curiously.

Caine focused and lifted the hat slowly. Binary code that made up Pomni's form was exposed. He ran his hand over the top of her head and the code morphed and changed color. Dark brown hair flowed from her scalp and glided between his fingers as he made it grow. The hair length stopped just below the base of her head all the way around. He smiled as he felt her soft hair slip through his fingers, his hand lingering just a bit longer than necessary near her cheek.

Pomni's eyes dilated watching Caine's expressions subtly change as he focused. Her head tingled as the hair grew. Caine's fingers brushing her cheek made her breath catch in her throat. Her digital heartbeat felt like it was trying to escape her chest.

Their eyes met, so close to one another. Caine's gaze drifted down to Pomni's lips.

"Thank you..." Pomni said quietly.

"You're welcome." Caine tried hard not to stare, but Pomni wetted her lips nervously and he shuddered.

"Hey, boss!" Bubble popped in.

Caine launched himself away from Pomni, hovering stiffly. Pomni froze in place against the mushroom tree asset.

"What!?" Caine said a bit too loud. His blush was dark red. Pomni's hat clutched tightly in one of his hands.

"The racers are destroying the garage." Bubble said with a smile.

"Good for them." Caine said, staring determinately in a random direction away from Bubble or Pomni. "Without a race, I'm sure they need something to do."

"You don't want to watch?" Bubble asked, mildly confused.

"Nope. Too busy. Lots of work left to be done on this new track if it's going to be used tomorrow."

"Okay, boss. I'm going to watch the violence." Bubble giggled giddily and popped.

Caine and Pomni both immediately relaxed when Bubble left. Pomni stepped away from the mushroom tree and looked over what she and Caine built. "You're right, there is still a lot to do. We got distracted there for a bit."

"Yeah, we did." He couldn't stop thinking about how close he had been to her. Thoughts of what could've happened if Bubble hadn't come in made his code buzz excitedly. He shook them from his mind and rejoined Pomni on the ground. "While there are still quite a few decorative assets to complete, the track itself is about finished. I'm going to sprinkle in a few jumps and maybe a tunnel for extra flavor."

"Ooh, how about a tunnel made of water?" Pomni smiled.

"I like the way you think." Caine smiled back and tossed her hat onto the same asset his coat was hanging from.

~

An entire plate of food crashed against the wall behind Kinger. He had barely managed to avoid it, moving his body back in a limbo bend. He was out of ammo and grabbed two cushions to throw back instead.

Everyone and everything in the garage was covered in food. The bubble chef kept making more appear on the table as the racers ran around upturned furniture.

Loo shielded Ragatha from an incoming jello mound. Green apple flavored gelatin went everywhere. Loo licked the jello off her lips. "Mmm, at least the food is good."

Ragatha playfully glared at Gangle, who had thrown the jello. "Take that!" She grabbed a handful of random mashed food on the wall and threw it back.

Gangle was hit square in the face, falling backwards. Her mask slipped, shattering on the floor. The sound of the breaking porcelain made everyone stop. Zooble slapped her magazine shut.

Ragatha nearly slipped on mashed food trying to get to Gangle. "Oh no! I'm so sorry! Are you okay!?"

Gangle lightly sniffed, gingerly picking up the pieces of her comedy mask. "Been... awhile since...this happened. I knew I should have...secured it better today." Her voice lulled slowly with a heavy rasp.

Zooble scooped up the pieces easily, then helped Gangle to her feet. They stood between Gangle and the others, not letting them see her tragic face. "Come on, there's extra glue in my room." They leave together to go upstairs

"Way to go, Ragatha. Now the mood is ruined." Jax complained.

"I didn't mean to hit her in the face! I really am sorry!" Ragatha called up after Gangle as the door to Zooble's room shut.

Loo placed a comforting hand on Ragatha. "I'm sure she knows it was an accident."

Ragatha didn't say anything as she brushed food off her dress.

Gummigoo shook mush off his tail, looking around. "Crikey, I think we got carried away." A bit of food fell from the ceiling and splattered on his snoot. He groaned.

"Without a race to reset the garage, we'll need Caine if we want this cleaned up." Kinger commented as he wiped undistinguishable food off his robe. He looked mournfully at the messed up cushions, no pillow forts could be made with messy cushions.

"Hey, chef?" Ragatha addressed the bubble in the room. "Would you mind asking Caine to pop over real quick and help us out?"

"No can do." The bubble shook in reply. "He's busy working on tomorrow's track with Pomni."

"They left?" Regatha looked out the window with it's blinds open.

"You didn't see them leave? You should pay attention more." Kinger said poignantly.

Ragatha didn't comment. She turned back to the bubble chef. "Come on, he can do it in less than a second. It wouldn't take much of his time."

"Nuh-uh." Bubble said with an even wider grin. "He's so focused he even has Pomni against a tree for comparison."

Ragatha blinked and looked to the others, everyone shrugged.

"...and taking off her clothing assets." Bubble announced.

Ragatha clapped her hands over her mouth. Everyone else struggles to pretend they didn't just hear that.

Jax picked up a plate and threw it like a frisbee it at the chef. The unhelpful bubble pops and the plate smashes against the wall. "Useless assistants."

~

Caine finished rendering a new spiral launch and took a breather. "That's the last of the track. This is going to be spectacular, Pomni! Thanks especially to you."

Pomni waved off his praise. "Oh, come on, all I've done is talk. You're the one doing all the work."

"My dear, creative brainstorming is a big part of what I do! The fact that you came up with most of this on your own, I'm impressed. What inspired you?"

Pomni looked around at the dark light colors and soft lighting. "I think I just like pretty things that shine in the dark."

"How poetic." Caine smirked.

Pomni smiled bashfully. "Maybe this is what I liked on the outside..."

Caine watched her carefully. "...how much do you remember?"

"Not a lot. I remember snippets and I dream, but nothing solid. Like, I can't remember where I'm from...where I grew up....if I had a family..."

"I'm sorry." Caine said quietly. "If the exit wasn't the way it is, I'd let you go back in a snap, but for what it's worth...I'm glad you're here."

Pomni wiped away a tear that tried to sneak out. "It's not all bad. The others are fun to be around, and you've... made me feel pretty welcome."

"It's what I do." He took off his hat and bowed dramatically. "Caine, Race Host Extraordinaire, at your service."

Pomni giggled. Before she could speak further, a large asset started blinking some distance behind Caine. Pomni saw it shudder and glitch, her eyes widened.

Caine got up from his bow and saw Pomni staring into the distance. "Something wrong?" He goes to turn around but Pomni grabs his wrist.

"No! Nothing! Sorry! I just, uh- had an idea! Yeah! We haven't made insects for this track yet. Kinger would be disappointed if we forgot." She quickly glanced behind Caine, the asset was normal again.

"Gadzooks, you're right! What an oversight! I know just the thing for a track like this, but I'll need your help." He slid his wrist out of her grasp to hold her hand.

"What could I do? I can't create things out of thin air."

"Not alone you can't, but with a little bit of administrative access..." He snapped his fingers and his hand holding hers glowed a dim gold.

Pomni's palm felt warm and tingly. Her gloved hand buzzed and pixelated a little before going back to normal.

"...if you can conceive it, you can achieve it. Now, visualize in your mind what you want to appear."

Pomni closed her eyes to focus. She thought hard on picturing a moth. It's what was on the top of her head. Suddenly something fluttered in between her hand and Caine's. She gasped and pulled away from him. A black light green and blue moth flew free, coming to rest on the trunk of the mushroom tree. She looked at her hand. "Oh my god..."

"Neat, right? Now, imagine... having that power with absolutely everything! The world is yours to command at a single snap." Caine snapped his fingers and every asset they worked on that day levitated for a second before going back down. "Go on, give it a try."

Pomni looked for the smallest asset. A pebble. She thought to herself: jump! She snapped. The pebble jumped several inches off the ground. "WOAH!"

"You learn quickly." Caine beamed. "This access will allow you to help me more in the future. However, it will only work out of bounds. Can't have you snapping things around active tracks all willy-nilly."

"Aw, and here I wanted to snap Jax into the nearest dumpster."

Caine chuckled. "As tempting as that is some days, it's important to show restraint. Yet another lesson I've learned the hard way." His eyes became distant for a moment, then he cleared his voice. "Anyway, would you like to keep making more?"

"I would." She held out her hand to him.

Caine gladly accepted it. "My power is yours. Show me what that beautiful mind can create."

Pomni could not get used to Caine complimenting her, as nice as it felt, the fluster made it hard to focus. All she could think of were "colorful night bugs". She snapped. A flurry of multicolor moths and fireflies and beetles flew from her hand out on to the new track.

Caine watched her with soft eyes. The way she looked in the colorful low light was truly something to behold. He ran his thumb subtly over her knuckles, wanting nothing more than to pull her in and kiss her breathless. For now, at least, she seemed very happy with her gift. There was real joy in her smile. That was enough for him.

~

It was late before Pomni and Caine popped back into the garage, right outside her room door. All was quiet, the other racers already settled in their rooms for the night. Pomni had her hat tucked under an arm, still wanting to enjoy her head's new found freedom. "Thanks for spending time with me, today. I had fun." She gave him a genuine smile.

Caine's code skipped a beat. He placed a light kiss to the top of her hand. "Trust me when I say, it's been my absolute pleasure. I should have you around out of bounds more often. Who knows what kind of trouble we could get into." He winks.

Pomni internally screams from romantic panic. Her face felt as hot as the sun. "That- that- would be nice! We could make a date of it! ...again." This time, nothing felt like just a nice gesture. This time, it felt meaningful. That maybe pursuing a romantic relationship with a gaming AI wasn't that crazy after all.

Caine could explode into butterflies and confetti. She wanted to make it another date! "Just let me know when. Give your fingers a snap, and I'll be right there." He held both her hands in his. "I'm so happy, Pomni. I'm so very happy to have you around. You're not just another racer, you're special to me."

Pomni didn't know what to say. She was happy too, but at the same time, this was still a crazy situation to find herself in. Part of her wanted to launch herself into Caine's embrace and never let go, the other wanted to run. She awkwardly swung her arms with his. "I... you're becoming something special to me too. I still have... reservations. I'm sorry if that wasn't what you wanted to hear, I just...need to go slow." She looked down and away.

Caine gently squeezes her hands. "My dear, we can take this as slow as we need to. We can save the high speed pursuits for the track. Rest well, I look forward to tomorrow."

"Me too." Pomni gave him one last smile as she shut her room door.

Caine hovered near the ceiling, looking down at the travesty that was the garage. "Racers." He chuckles and snaps. The place instantly became spotless and tidy. He teleported away.

~

Pomni immediately checked her room for Abel. Relieved to find herself alone, she flopped on her bed and screamed confused emotions into her pillow. "What am I doing!? I can't actually be falling for him?? I want to leave but he's so- so- AAAAH!! Is he really interested or is it an act?? Abel said-... And why ME of all people!? I'm not- HE- uuuuuuuuugh..." She relaxed face down on the bed, eventually drifting off to sleep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

A blue digital countdown flashed before Pomni's eyes. It scared her. She tried to run from it. The numbers got bigger, the blue glow getting brighter behind her. More lights ahead. Two high beam gold headlights. The roar of an engine. Tires screeching. She tries to run to the side, but feels sluggish, her running stride slowing no matter how fast she tries to go.

Both sets of lights get closer to her. A panicked heart beat booms in her ear. The red door with the C&A logo appears between the lights. She throws herself through it as the lights collide.

Beyond the door was an office, but not the same as she's seen before. It looked like a home office. More modern. Papers and files stacked everywhere. Photos of faceless people pinned to a corkboard. Red string connected them. The C&A logo centered on the board with multiple red circles drawn over it.

The flat screen monitors came to life with red letters. P W P I. Again and again. "Pomni..." A feminine disembodied voice called out. "Pomni..." It came from a wall that was entirely made of mirror.

Pomni stared into it, not seeing herself, but the woman in the brown jacket. The strange woman put her hand against the mirror. Pomni felt inclined to do the same. When their hands touched, the mirror cracked violently. The reflection became fragments of visions that meant nothing to Pomni.

The mirror wall fell apart, revealing a black abyss beyond. One large green and orange eye opens, staring directly at Pomni. She couldn't move. Her body defied any instinct to run. The eye rushes her.

Pomni jolts awake with a shout, falling off her bed. "Ow..." She holds her aching head. She didn't feel like going back to bed. None of her dreams have made it worth it. She opened her door to find sunlight peeking in through the blinds on the main floor. It was morning already.

Pomni tiredly requested coffee from the bubble chef. She was the first up, having the lounge to herself. It was the first bit of peace and quiet she actually had in a while. Her mind was exhausted. Swinging wildly from one emotion to another, and dreaming about...whatever the heck all that was, had her drained. Her peace was broken by Zooble and Gangle being the next ones down.

"Good morning!" Gangle cheerfully greeted as she sat next to Pomni. Zooble sat next to Gangle with an arm over the back of the couch.

Pomni internally cringed at Gangle's tone this early in the morning, but kept a neutral face. "Morning..." She sipped her coffee.

"Are you feeling better after spending time with Caine? You were a bit out of sorts yesterday."

Pomni slowly blinked, trying to remember what Gangle was referring to. "Oh...yeah, I am. We had fun."

"That's great! Because Gummigoo seemed pretty upset that you wouldn't talk to him."

"I didn't want to talk to anyone." Pomni said defensively.

"I know, but he was REALLY worried that he had done something wrong."

Pomni focused on her coffee. "He didn't. Just...wrong place, wrong time."

Gangle looked to Zooble in a silent plea. Zooble shrugged. Gangle nervously tapped her ribbon hands together. "Maybe you should talk to him? Tell him things are okay? He cares about how you feel about him."

Pomni stared at her reflection in the black bean water. "I'll talk to him." She'd have to at some point. Abel would be back any time.

~

Pomni caught Gummigoo the moment he left his room. "Hey, can we talk?"

"Sure thing." Gummigoo felt an icepick of fear in his code but went with her anyway. He needed to know what he'd done.

They sat together in the stands, away from prying ears in the garage. Another perfect digital day made the quiet environment easy to enjoy. Gummigoo nervously held his hands together, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees to keep them from shaking.

Pomni sat back with her arms crossed. "Nothing happened the other night. You walked in. We talked a bit. You came around. I helped you find your way out. That was it."

"...that doesn't explain how scared you looked. You acted like I was about to literally bite your head off. Then you wouldn't even look at me the next day. I'm sorry, but I don't believe you." Gummigoo said quietly but firmly.

Pomni took a moment to answer. "The conversation got heated. You're kind of scary when you're angry. I'm glad you came to when you did." The memory of Abel's cold fury directed to Caine made her head hurt.

"What did I say? I really don't remember...I'm sorry." Gummigoo sulked.

"Don't worry about it. People do weird things under the influence. I still consider you a friend."

"Really?"

"Mmhm."

Gummigoo sat up straight. "That's a relief. I would've been devo if I couldn't muck about on the track with you anymore." He smirked.

Pomni smiled back. "Things would've gotten boring so fast."

~

Caine appeared right on time in full race host uniform. Fairy lights sparkle, falling around him. "Hello, my fabulous fantastical friends! I have a very special treat for you all today! A brand new track designed from the very mind of our own Pomni!"

"Oh, this oughta be good." Jax huffed.

"It's more than that! It's excellent!" Caine excitedly flew over to Pomni and held out his cane to her.

She looked at it with confusion. "Uh...what-"

"This is your track, Pomni. You should be the one to introduce it to the other racers." Caine motioned for her to take his cane.

"Ooo! How exciting!" Ragatha clapped. "Go on, Pomni. You can tell us about what you made."

Pomni slowly took the cane, trying not to look at all the eyes on her. "Uh..." Microphone feedback from the cane's topper made an ear splitting ring echo through the garage. She held the cane out at arms length. "Sorry."

"Already off to a great start." Jax muttered sarcastically.

"Um, the track today is..." She just realized they never agreed on a name. She had to come up with one on the spot. She spied the sparkling lights Caine had made part of his entrance and rolled with it. "Uh...the Fairylight Forrest."

As if on cue, Caine snapped and the race track title appeared in shiny, colorful letters overhead. They had way too much pizzazz for Pomni's lackluster announcement.

Everyone but Jax politely clapped. Pomni wanted to fall through the floor. She tried giving Caine his cane back.

"Not yet! They need to see it! Come on everyone! Lead the way, Pomni!"

The embarrassment was going to kill her.

Caine opened the door for her and the racers. The outside was gorgeous. A dark Forrest bathed in pale moonlight surrounded the startling line. The track disappeared into the iridescent woodland, small lights lining the sides. Bioluminescent mushrooms as tall as the trees gave off blacklight glow. Moths and fireflies flitted about.

The racers all gave whispered gasps and comments of astonishment. This was one of the most serene tracks any of them had even seen. Ragatha nudged Pomni with her elbow. "Good job, this is way more mellow than anything Caine's every made."

Pomni smirked mischievously. "You haven't seen the track yet." She raised her voice confidently, seeing how genuinely impressed everyone was. "Welcome to the Fairlyight Forest! Don't be fooled by it's appearance! It's as dangerous as it is beautiful!"

Caine lounged back in the air with his arms crossed, a proud smile on his face.

Pomni raised the cane to her lips. "This track is packed with harrowing hairpin turns, sickening spirals and mind-blowing multi-tiered jumps!"

Caine was falling in love all over again.

"Be amazed! Be astounded! But don't be caught unaware! For a great beast roams these woods, and it's hunger for racers is never saited! Can you make it to the final lap in one piece? Let's find out. Racers! To your karts!" A roaring applause came from the themed stands behind her. She jerked her head around to the crowd, like she had forgotten it existed. NPCs where on their feet, going wild for the announcement. The others excitedly ran to their karts as Pomni held the cane close to her chest. She was rather surprised with herself.

"You're amazing." Caine said from behind her.

Pomni smiled bashfully and held out the cane to him. "I learn from the best."

He took it, going out of his way to make sure his fingers brush hers. "Have fun out there, my fairy queen."

"Always." Pomni smiled all the way out to her kart, jumping in.

Caine twirled his cane. "Racers! Start! Your! Engines!!"

Bubble appeared with translucent fairy wings on their back and stuck out their tongue to start the countdown.

First light...

Pomni couldn't take her eye off Caine. He was looking at her so longingly that her heart skipped a beat.

Second light...

She winked at him, reving her engine.

Third light...

She could swear Caine fainted.

GREEN!!

She takes off with the group into the forest.

~

Blue static crackled along the bounds of the game, moving with purpose. Every asset touched by it blinked and glitched subtly. The static came to the portion of the forest where the antagonistic beast lied dormant, awaiting the racers to trigger it's pursuit. The static leapt into the eyes of the beast. It's cold silver eyes turned bright blue.

~~~

CH 1 PREV NEXT

[jpitha]

Curiosity

Captain Benimen grabbed the arms of his chair tightly as the gravity struggled to keep up with the twirling and twisting, the ducking and juking his ship was doing to try and avoid the missiles, energy weapons, and slugs being thrown at them.

"Stupid humans! Why did I even agree to this?" He shouts, as a rippling thump runs along the spine of his ship and makes the deck plates rattle.

"To be fair Captain Benimen, we're not the ones shooting." Keli, one of the human engineers brought over by HIDA and the Coalition was also gripping the bottom of her fold-out chair tightly. Human ships have belts in the seats to keep you in place during high maneuvers; there is no such luxury on the Sefigan's ship. "You aren't going to return fire?"

She had a point. It wasn't human pirates that were attacking his ship and attempting to disable his newly installed Flipwarp drive, still he was never one to stop when he had a good rant going.

"It doesn't matter! The moment you show up, trouble follows close behind. Besides, we can't return fire, we have no weapons. Sensors!" he barked, "Who are these pirates anyway?"

The officer at the sensor suite station is barely holding on as the ship bucks and moves. The screen is vibrating so much they can barely read it. "Uh, it might be Whitetail, Captain. It's tough to tell while we're dodging them."

"Whitetail?! What are they doing way out here?" Captain Benimen starts gesturing with his hands as he's yelling, but a bump causes him to lift out of his seat and he scrambles to grab the arms again. "I don't care who it is, Flipwarp us out of here, we'll outrun them." He turns to Keli "Your upgrade had better work."

"Flipping now, Captain" Helm reports, and the ship is suddenly encased in the prismatic field of their new Flipwarp drive and the shaking stops.

Benimen nods to himself and his fur lowers. "Good. Now that that's settled, we can figure out-" Another series of heavy thumps is felt through the deck. There's a puff of atmosphere, and they can all hear the muffled cries of an alarm and the pressure doors slamming shut through the ship. "Ancestors! What was that?"

"Sir! It appears that Whitetail followed our Flipwarp signal and is giving chase. They're behind us!" The sensor suite officer's voice is tinged with panic.

Automatically Benimen looked behind. All he could see was the rear of the Command Deck, and he swore softly. Turning back to the screen in the front, he could see the outline of another ship behind them, also encased in a prismatic field soaring through Flipspace. "How are they doing that? How can they track us?" He turned to Keli. "Do you know?"

Keli looked up at the ceiling in thought for a moment. As she did, she blinked and stared at the lights. "That's not right..." Looking around, she strode over to the wall behind the captain and ran her hand along a seam. She followed it to the door out of Command. "What the..." She stood up and walked over to the helm station. "Can I check something out for a moment please?"

"O-of course, go ahead." The officer stood, and Keli sat, wincing at the chair made for smaller and more cushioned bodies. She started tapping at the panels.

"Ancestors..." she tapped, frowned, tapped some more. There was a sound like someone banging pots and pans under water.

"They're still firing." The sensor officer replied, glancing up at Captain Benimen, their eyes flicking between him and Keli.

"Keli? Anything you'd wish to share with us during our last few moments alive?" Even in the middle of the battle Captain Benimen made time for sarcasm.

Keli waved him off and touched something near her ear. "Greg, come up to Command, you need to see this."

A few seconds later, a human walked in, wearing an armored pressure suit. The command crew swiveled to look as he clanged in and they all looked worried. Greg lifted his helmet. "Some of the ship is in vacuum, that's why I'm in the suit. The Fire teams are working on securing the area and making safe passage from aft to fore." He walked over to Keli. "What's wrong?"

"Look at this, can you see the lockout here? Keli pointed at something on the back of the station. "Look here too, I think this was added later." She ducked under the station and swore. "This was retrofitted! Captain, who did you buy this ship from?"

"Er, it was my Father's ship, and before that, his Uncle's." Captain Benimen's claws slid in and out of their sheaths in irritation. "It's been in our family for more than one hundred solar years. Why does this matter? We're being shot at, if you have forgotten."

"It matters, Captain, because you seem to have a ship made out of another ship." She pointed up. "Greg, look up, what do you see?"

It was difficult to look up in a pressure suit. Greg had to lean back and crane his neck. Almost as soon as he did he said "Those aren't Sefigan lights."

"Exactly! Check out the rear panel behind the Captain too. That's not made of vremnian, it's a different alloy. I'd bet thirty stars that it's polychroma."

Greg smiled. "I'll take your word for it Keli. It's interesting, but I don't see how this will help us."

Keli gestured with her hands and opened her mouth and closed it once or twice. She was having trouble with her words. "This means that it's not a Sef ship, they bought it and retrofitted it centuries ago. They would have most likely bought it from the Draeden."

"I'll take your word for it, Keli, starship history is your hobby, not mine."

"No no! The Draeden were notorious for arming everything. They were more paranoid than we were! So if we can find where they dummied out the old systems and shunt some power to them..."

"Then we can reactivate the Draeden weapons? Keli that's insane. If they're still here, they're under tons of hull and even if they were exposed they haven't been powered in a couple of centuries."

Keli crossed her arms. Another brace of shots punctuated her pose. "So you'd rather get disabled, boarded and killed - if we're lucky?"

Greg sighed. He bent over and with a thrumming woosh, his suit opened like a flower and he stepped out. "What do I need to do?"

She pointed over towards sensors. "Check that wall, look for hatches, panels, anything. She tapped the comm on her wrist and clinked it against Greg's head. "Here's an update to your translator overlay, you should be able to read Draeden; they're old enough they didn't speak Belanic."

While Greg searches, Keli returns to the helm station and crawled underneath. Captain Benimen could only watch as she started ripping fistfulls of wire out from under the station, and the acrid smell of burning insulation filled the deck.

"Keli! Cease this at once! Stop trying to destroy my ship!"

She slid out from underneath and threw a card at him. "I'm sorry, Captain, I'm in command now." And then went back under the helm station and ripped more wires.

Captain Benamin read the card. In no uncertain terms it told him that Keli had the full backing of the Coalition to do anything and everything to continue her mission - including taking command. On the back was the sigil and signatures of all ten administrators. He held the card as if it would burn him, and sat, defeated.

Suddenly as Keli was ripping wires, there was an alarm that sounded on the deck. It was... different. The crew hadn't heard this one before. It sounded older, more crackly, more warbling.

And the voice wasn't speaking Belanic.

"Got it!" Keli sat up in triumph, and her finger started dancing over the screens. "Greg, did you find it yet?"

"Find what, I've been tapping an- oh!" As he was talking, Greg heard the tone of the panel change. He pushed hard, and it popped open, sliding back on very old gas shocks. Inside were two very large levers, caked in dust and grease. Above them was a sign written in the dotted slashed text of ancient Draeden. As Greg focused on it, his overlay translated the text. 'Manual Override.' "Keli, I found some levers marked Manual Override."

"Yes! Those are the ones. When I say, pull them out, twist the handles 180 and push them back, hard. I'm doing to drop us out of Flipwarp in three... two...now"

With an uncharacteristic shudder, the ship fell out of Flip space and was in regular space again. A moment later the Whitetail ship appeared next to them, and began to fire.

"Now Greg!"

Greg heaved on the levers and they came out of the panel with a heavy clang. He turned the wide handles on the end 180 degrees and bending down, pushed them back into the cabinet until they clacked home.

As he finished, the ancient alarm changed. It went from a high warbling tone to a faster, more insistent tone. A voice in a calm, authoritative voice said something and after a moment repeated it. Another beat, and the ever present noise of the ship, the HVAC, the reactors, everything went silent. Even the gravity turned off, and everyone started to rise from their seat awkwardly.

Benimen began to spin slowly in the air. "I swear on the dust of my ancestors human, if you have broken my ship I will-" he started, but then Keli glared at him. Some very ancient part of his brain reacted to her predatory glare and he stopped. Sefigans were omnivores on their original world, but they tended to be opportunistic. They didn't hunt unless that was the only option. His ancient brain knew what a hunter looked like and knew he shouldn't antagonize one.

After three heartbeats, there was a series of sharp clangs running the length of the ship, starting in the front and headed aft. Following that, the noise of the ship started to return, but the reactor sounded different, angrier. The gravity turned on and everyone fell back into their seats. Benimen landed hard on his bottom.

"Captain! We're..." Sensors looked at their screens and boggled. "Captain, we're splitting off from our ship."

"We're what?" He stood up and ran over to the sensor officer. Sure enough, what looked like the cargo bay, the rear maintenance garage and the hangar was floating away. Luckily the crew quarters, the reactor and the front portion of the ship was still intact. They didn't loose anyone when the ship peeled away.

Keli looked over and pointed. "Greg!"

Greg turned and next to the panel where the manual override levers were, another panel spun around. This had a series of screens and levers, all slightly grimy. He concentrated on the text and his overlay translated.

"Weapons suite."

****

"Pow! Zap! Just like that! I would not have believed it myself if I hadn't seen it, but luckily for you, I was." Benimen nodded to himself and took another sip of his drink.

The bartender made a face. "So you're telling us that your creaky old cargo ship that you got from your father was secretly a Draeden-"

"-a group we hadn't heard anything from in nigh on four centuries." the Innari next to Benimen helpfully added.

"Yes thank you Ki. Your ship was decretly a Draeden frigate this whole time, and you never figured it out?"

"Well, I got the ship from my Da, right? He showed me how to work it and that was that. I never dug into it because I didn't need to. I hauled cargo, and it did that well." Benimen's excitement was diminished with the words from the bartender. He did have a point after all.

"But Beni, you didn't even have the curiosity to learn about your own ship?"

"Dammit Rai what do you want me to say? That I was an idiot and never learned more about my ship and it's history? Why would I do that. Why would I learn about the history of a spanner, or a welder, or a compensator?"

"Because sometimes, you learn interesting things." Keli said, walking into the bar. She was dressed in the sharply tailored black uniforms of HIDA now instead of her grubby coveralls. Her long hair was tied back into a simple ponytail and she was grinning. "Benimen, I was coming by to say thank you for letting me take control, and to apologize for breaking your cargo ship."

The Rai and Ki stared at Keli in shock, and then turned to Benimen "You were telling the truth?" they said in unison.

Benimen grunted and took another sip of his drink. "Course I was."

"Captain Benimen, on behalf of HIDA, I am offering you recompense in the form of three hundred thousand stars. That should be suitable to repair and refit your ship, yes?" She handed him a pad and sure enough, he was now three hundred thousand stars richer. The sigil of the Coalition was at the bottom of the document, certifying it as genuine.

He slid off his barstool and stood before Keli. "Keli - I should say, Agent Keli, I thank you for this." He saluted sharply, Sefigan style, with both his paws across his chest with his claws extended. Keli returned the salute, human style. Business concluded, she turned to leave.

"I'm sorry, Agent, Keli?" Benimen called after her.

She turned. "Keli is fine, Captain."

His ears waggled. "Then you have earned the right to use my family name. Call me Hamin. I am wondering though... I've heard that HIDA hires non-humans. Do you have a need for a captain who has recently come into a frigate and some money that could be used to fit it out?"

Keli stood with her hands on her hips, and looked him up and down. "Well Hamin. That all depends. Why don't you come with me, and we'll see what's what."

[mydarlingmydear]

Yandere Boy Next Door Part 1

Warning: This post contains topics such as stalking as well as sexual themes. No minors allowed. Viewer discretion advised.

The boy next door moved in next to you without you even knowing, really…

The house next to yours was kind of run down, the paint was chipping off the windows and paneling, moss and plants were growing on top of the cement stairs and up the base of the mailbox

You didn’t think anyone was going to move there, as it wasn’t a super flattering house, but much to your surprise, you saw moving trucks

You saw the moving trucks and heard people talking a few times but you never actually saw who lived there

Until you did

You were headed home and bumped into someone because you were glued to your phone. Apologizing you walked past them but stopped when you realized you weren’t walking that far

You had only passed him to get to your house, and he was your neighbor… so…

He was unlocking his front door and watched as you walked up to yours. Your houses weren’t too big, so there wasn’t a ton of distance between you both

“… You… live there?” He asked, pointing at your house. You nodded. He made a lighthearted, playful smirk at your response

“Well, would you look at that? Hello neighbor.” He chuckled as he crossed his arms and leaned against the closed door.

You laughed a little to yourself and waved. “Hello… to be honest, I’m surprised someone moved in, I didn’t think anyone would want that house.” You said not thinking anything of it. He looked at the house and patted it as if it was a car or bike.

“Honestly, it was affordable and the neighborhood isn’t bad, so I didn’t see why not.” He shrugged, smiling and leaning his head against the wall.

Something in your chest thumped when you saw the way he smiled at you. It was charming yet genuine. Playful yet… also sincere. You shook your head slightly to get out of your own thoughts. You felt his eyes on you.

"Elliot." He said. You looked up in confusion. "Elliot Foster. And you?" He nodded towards you.

"I... uh..." should you trust him? He was your new neighbor. What's the worst that could happen? "(y/n)... (y/n) (l/n). Nice to meet you." You said, smiling politely. His eyes wandered over your form for a few seconds.

He sighed and clapped once. “Welp, I’ve got to hit the hay. But, hey,” he paused, pointing at you, keys jingling in his hand. “I’ll see you around…” he paused, clearly checking you out in a teasing way. “Neighbor.” He smirked and waved goodnight before going inside.

You felt your chest thump and your face heat up. No. You couldn’t. You’ve never had a boyfriend and relationships made you nervous.

You headed inside and after eating dinner, you headed to your room where you saw his light on. You could see through his window as he took his shirt off. He stretched, his back muscles flexing. He wasn’t super muscular, but he wasn’t completely out of shape either. He was… easy on the eyes. You turned away and slapped your cheeks, trying to shake yourself out of your daze.

No crushing. It wasn’t worth it. Little did you know…

It definitely was to him.

He first moved to the neighborhood to keep a low profile after the situation with his… last girlfriend. He had lost his job for not showing up enough and acting out on a coworker that pissed him off. To be honest, he hated working there anyways.

He didn’t think much of this new neighborhood, it was plain, it was fine, he honestly didn’t have any opinions. That is… until he saw you.

When you two bumped into each other, he laughed it off and helped you up. The moment he looked at you, he felt his heart thumping in his chest. Fuck… you were cute. When you went your separate ways he walked up to his door, his eyes watching you the whole time. He fumbled with his keys and when he saw you lived right next to him, well… he thought it was practically destined to be. He had never really believed in fate or soulmates, but there’s no way he’d bump into someone that cute only to find out they were his neighbor. He had talked with you for a little bit before entering his house and immediately leaning against the door when he closed it.

He laughed to himself and ran his hands through his hair, his face on fire and his heart thumping so hard he could hear and feel it. So many thoughts were running through his head after that interaction.

Were you single? What was your job? What were your friends like? Did you live alone or with roomates? Did you have any pets? Did you even like pets? What would your face look like as you sucked his co-

He shook his head feverishly. No. He couldn’t obsess. It always got out of control. He took some deep breaths but as he did, he couldn’t clear his mind of all the questions and thoughts about you. He headed to his room and turned the light on and opened the window. He closed the curtains, but they were pretty sheer so they didn’t hide much. He noticed your window was also open. He bit his lip in thought but quickly turned around when he saw you staring to enter your room. He paced around his room and thought for a minute.

I mean… he needed to get ready for bed… right? It’s not like he wanted you to see him changing, he just… happened to have the window open. A coincidence, right?

He slowly took off his shirt, his back facing you as there’s no way he wouldn’t stare you down if he faced you. He stretched a bit, trying to linger for as long as he could without being awkward. He looked down at his arms and chest and frowned. Sure, he went to the gym, but he wasn’t as fit as he’d like to be. If he went to the gym more, maybe he’d impress you more? If he ran around the neighborhood, maybe he’d be able to… follow see you?

That night he cyberstalked the fuck out of your social media accounts, tried to find any information he could.

He looked at your posts, your families posts with pictures of you in them, anything he could gather. Screenshotting and downloading any photos he could of you, his mind went blank as all he did was desperately search for anything he could get. By the time he was done saving any and every photo he could, he had snapped out of his obsession online. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, cursing at his own horney-ness. What was wrong with him? He was spiraling again.

When he fell in love, he didn’t just fall, he passed out. He fell hard. Speaking of hard…

He probably came three times just looking at photos of you on his phone. After he finished, he lay on his bed thinking about what just happened. Obsession was like a drug addiction. When he did it he couldn’t stop. When he tried to stop he was in hell.

This would be… the last time right? Yeah. Last time. Of course this would be the last time, because he wouldn’t be single after you. He’d be in a totally healthy marriage, with three kids, one boy, two girls (Theo, Mia, and Emily). You’d go to your job, he’d go to his, the kids would go to daycare… gosh he was obsessing again… he just couldn’t stop. He wanted you. He craved you. He needed you.

And he was going to get you. Whether you liked it or not.

[nb-hedgewolf]

The light is MINE.

Small story underneath Readmore. Please reblog instead of liking!

Robotnik's latest plan to try to get rid of Sonic, and take over the world, had involved the creation of space-time vortexes, using the a gemstone known as the "Warp Topaz". Reaching into other realities to gather resources for his plans, and to trap Sonic inside a dimension where he'd be unable to thwart his plans.

This idea backfired the moment it was put into motion. For, unbeknownst to him, in a different reality, a beast of famine and darkness could feel the ripples his machine left in time and space. In a last attempt to secure it's survival, the heinous beast tore a hole from it's home dimension and into Robotnik's machine.

Before the hedgehog Robotnik oh-so dreaded could do as little as drop a snarky comment, the machine's alarms blared out loud, sending constant distress signals to the scientist's control panel, as it detected an unknown entity crawling through it's insides.

The next thing anyone knew was that Sonic began to fight this mangled monstrosity made of crystal bones. A walking corpse of a higher being, desiring nothing but to sink it's fangs into the hedgehog. Each punch from this thing felt terrible, the pain this pitiful monster felt was being inflicted into Sonic.

The fight went on for hours on end, the beast attacked relentlessly, not allowing the hedgehog even a single second to catch his breath, and it didn't seem to have intentions to stop any time soon either. Friends and curious onlookers had came to his aid a long time ago, but neither Sonic nor the beast wanted anyone nearby.

A knot tied deep inside Sonic, the way it felt to be attacked by this monster, he didn't want his friends to be forced to deal with it. It reminded him so much of the cold, numbing, painful, scalding, overwhelming pain from cyber corruption. And yet, this felt so much worse, according to him.

The moment Tails tried to approach Sonic, holding his Miles Electric in the end, exclaiming he had found a way to deal with this unknown thing, was... the end. The monster locked it's "eyes" on the fox, and prepared to attack. Sonic wouldn't let any harm come to his closest friend, his sibling...

So he took the hit for the fox. And this time, the beast sank it's claws deep into the hedgehog's body. Finally, after hours of constant fighting, time seemed to move slowly, the hedgehog tumbled back, feeling warm liquid flow down from his chest, a buzzing ring sound echoed in his ears, he couldn't tell what everyone was saying anymore.

After hours of battle, the hedgehog tripped down into the arms of the beast, and was devoured. Light expanded outwards, like an explosion, the moment Sonic and the beast made contact, light that shone brighter than anything any of them had ever seen. Soon, where once two beings stood, now only one entity remained: Golden fur covered its body, golden as the brightest of suns; dark crystalline armor adorned its form, as black as the darkest of nights.

It took a single step forward before roaring in anger, crying out in pain, screaming in agony. Its hunger for light was not yet quenched.

On that day, the hero of this world, the beacon of hope in the heart of every mobian, was extinguished. The torch of the vessel of chaos was never passed down, instead, its never-yielding flame was devoured by the dark maws of the beast from beyond space and time.

On that night, in roars and cries, it pledged to subdue, and consume, all the light in this universe, to punish humanity for it's hubris, for the inhabitants of this world were not free of sin in its eyes. Desiring light, power, and energy. Playing god, they had drained another one like itself, and destroyed it, forgotten it, erased it.

Now they all would pay the ultimate price.

Travelers from the world this creature first emerge would name this new being fueled by revenge "UB-Chaos". Also known as...

Entropy Spine Necrozma.

[optimisticgardenhologram]

Something I noticed in my re-reads of the manga is that Light and Near’s inner monologues tend to pretty directly state what exactly they mean with minimal ambiguity. However with L and Mello their internal thoughts often taper off before reaching their conclusions, or are otherwise just positioned more mysteriously leaving their true feelings and intentions to the imagination of the reader.

For one example, something I always find interesting are Mello’s comments around Misa. 

Let me explain. It's this panel I mean:

What I'm curious about is when he says: "if she had the eyes that in itself could be enough to make her worth something to Kira...still for Kira to be using a girl like this..."

While his statements read plainly enough the interpretation can go in a couple very different ways. And of course this being manga (oh and being CUT from the anime doesn't help) the absence of tone makes his intention all the more ambiguous. 

I'm curious where is the emphasis on that statement? Is it:

"...still for Kira to be using A GIRL like this..."  (implying some general objection to using a girl in the role of the second Kira)

OR

"...still for Kira to be using a girl LIKE THIS..." (implying a specific distaste for exploiting this woman's stupidity, the loss of her parents, and subsequent devotion to Kira and possible willingness to sacrifice half her remaining life for the eyes to help her heroic savior).

My own position is I tend to lean to the latter interpretation. I think he's bothered by the way Kira is weaponizing Misa's trauma and idolization of him. Yes I am biased, yet still believe there's more than enough textual basis to back up that reading. 

Remember at this point Mello's been listening in on her and Mogi's conversations for almost a week (side note note that this shows Mello is fluent in Japanese since there's no reason Mogi and Misa would be speaking English when they're alone together). But it appears that nothing overtly suspicious is going on with them, and more than that their apparently inane and tedious conversations by this point are (understandably) grating on Mello's last nerve. He wonders how "This stupid girl is the second Kira? But I think of any other reason Mogi would be with her...her...". Yeah it's kinda mean to call her stupid, but the point is IF Kira was using her, it certainly wasn't for her brilliance. Also notice he repeats the word "her" twice, showing that he's thinking of her as in the individual sense not as a generic member of the female gender.

Also if his statement was just as a general sexist comment meant to say there's something fundamentally undesirable in entrusting a woman with that sort of power, there would have been no need for the panels showing him mulling over her personal history and possible motivations, making those connections in such detail.  Plus unlike some other characters in the series, Mello isn't known make prejudicial comments about women.

Being a fellow orphan himself, and one whose trauma and devotion was ALSO exploited similarly --  raised to be a tool serving someone else's vision, and not only that but similarly having bought fully into it and making it his own life goal -- he might be able to relate to Misa's situation more than most.

It's also worth mentioning that I wouldn't necessarily consider it out of character for Mello to be rubbed the wrong way by how Kira is using Misa. Mello is shown multiple times throughout the manga to be openly empathetic (which goes hand in hand with his infamous trait of unapologetically having emotions), including to his enemies. See Soichiro Yagami, Kiyomi Takada. 

Anyway, it's a small detail to devote this much thought and rambling text to, but I think it's interesting so...

/shrug/

[ltash]

The Bodyguard pt-1

Part 2 & 3 link in the end.

SimonGhostRileyxfemalereader

The boardroom was sleek, modern, and imposing, with dark wood panelling and a sprawling glass table. Sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting sharp shadows across the faces of the people who had slowly filed in, each flashing rehearsed smiles in your direction. You leaned back in your chair, absentmindedly chewing on the end of a sleek silver pen, your eyes sharp, taking in every movement, every fake expression.

Five guards stood silently behind you, their presence a subtle but unmistakable reminder of your authority. You were untouchable here, or at least, that's what you needed them to believe. As the CEO and heiress of Aventis Pharmaceuticals, a company built on generational influence, you knew there were black sheep lurking within your empire. You could feel it in the way certain board members avoided your gaze, shifting uncomfortably under your silent scrutiny.

"Let's get started," you said, your voice calm but unyielding as you set the pen down, giving each person a measured look. "I need the details on the latest antinarcotic project we're working on."

There was a pause before the head of R&D, Dr. Marcus Lewin cleared his throat. He looked pale, though you couldn't tell if it was the lighting or nerves. "Ah... of course, Miss Aventis," he began, shuffling some papers before him. "We're in the third phase of clinical trials now. The formula has shown promising results, minimal side effects, with a faster recovery rate compared to the last version."

You raised an eyebrow, watching him squirm slightly. "Minimal side effects?" you repeated. "We're aiming for a groundbreaking product, Dr. Lewin. I expect 'minimal' to be an understatement."

"Yes, of course," he stammered, nodding vigorously. "I, uh, apologize. We're working on further improvements. There's also some data regarding efficacy rates in the latest testing group. I can forward the specifics to you."

You leaned forward slightly, your gaze hardening. "Forward them to me? Dr. Lewin, I'd prefer a comprehensive update now from you. Or are there... issues you'd rather not discuss here?"

A few other board members shifted uncomfortably, casting sidelong glances at one another. But Dr. Lewin managed a stiff smile. "No issues, Miss Aventis. We've been gathering the results carefully. We're confident we can meet the expected deadline and provide a full report for you to review."

You nodded slowly, letting the silence stretch. "Good. I expect nothing less. And, just to be clear," you said, glancing around the table at the assembled members, "I don't tolerate surprises. If there are any... discrepancies, now is the time to disclose them. Otherwise, I expect total transparency."

A hush fell over the room.

Your gaze shifted to Martin Hayes, the company's CFO, a man known for his sharp financial acumen and, at times, slippery ethics. He sat across the table, his fingers tapping nervously against his folder. He offered a tight, polite smile as he looked up to meet your eyes.

"And about our deal with that company?" you asked, your voice cool, with just a hint of impatience.

Martin cleared his throat, adjusting his tie. "Yes, of course, Miss Aventis. The partnership with Arcadia Biotech is progressing as planned. We've secured favourable terms for both manufacturing and distribution, ensuring a significant reduction in costs while increasing production capabilities."

You tilted your head, studying him. "And Arcadia is still unaware of our... competitive projects?"

He hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, but you didn't miss it. "They're completely in the dark," he assured quickly. "We've kept all sensitive projects under strict confidentiality clauses. As far as Arcadia is concerned, they're our exclusive partners in the development and distribution of the existing narcotic treatments."

You tapped your fingers against the table. "Good. I'd like a written assurance from you that our proprietary research won't leak. If Arcadia or any other competitor even hints at knowing about our new product, I'll know who to turn to, won't I, Martin?"

The colour drained slightly from his face. "Absolutely, Miss Aventis. You have my word; I'll have our legal team draft an ironclad document."

"See that you do." You leaned back, giving him a faint smile as if to relieve the tension just slightly. "And remember, gentlemen and ladies," you added, letting your gaze roam around the table, "we're here to lead the industry-not to compete in petty games. I expect only the highest standards of loyalty and discretion."

A murmur of agreement filled the room, the board members nodding.

You leaned forward, placing both hands on the table, and fixed each board member with a piercing stare. The boardroom fell silent, the tension thick in the air.

"Also, remember this," you said, your voice low but unwavering. "I am more than capable of running my father's company. Each of you is here because you're shareholders, yes, but let's not mistake that for immunity."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed a few faces, and you didn't miss a beat.

"If I find out that anyone here has tampered with our formulas, compromised our products, or made any attempt to sabotage the reputation of Aventis Pharma..." You let the threat hang in the air for a moment, letting them feel the weight of your words. "Then you'll all be sinking with me. I won't hesitate to bring down every last one of you along with this company if it comes to that."

Martin Hayes shifted uncomfortably, his collar suddenly seeming a little too tight. Dr. Lewin was looking down at his notes, his jaw clenched, while a few others exchanged uneasy glances.

"Now," you continued, sitting back but keeping your gaze sharp, "let's ensure that it never comes to that. We are all on the same side, or we should be. Our success is your success. I expect complete loyalty to the vision my father built and entrusted me to lead."

You let the silence settle, watching them absorb your message. Finally, you smiled, but it was a smile of steel. "Any questions?"

No one spoke up, and you nodded in satisfaction. The boardroom felt smaller, suddenly less crowded with ambition and more attuned to your authority.

The boardroom cleared, and with a curt nod, you dismissed the meeting. Rising from your seat, you walked out with purposeful strides, your five bodyguards falling in line behind you, each scanning the area, their presence, an unspoken wall of security. You exited the building and moved toward the parking lot, where the air was still and quiet, almost eerily so.

Your eyes drifted to a Hummer parked discreetly in the far corner. It felt out of place, like a shadow that didn't belong. You slipped into your sleek sports car, the engine purring to life, but an uneasy feeling gnawed at you. Suddenly, figures emerged from the darkness, men with sharp eyes and cold expressions, each one wielding M14 rifles. Diego Garcia's assassins. The Hummer door stayed shut, but you caught a glimpse of Garcia himself watching from within, his gaze locked on you.

Before you could react, a hail of bullets erupted. Your heart thundered as your bodyguards sprang into action, returning fire, but the assassins moved with ruthless precision. In moments, one by one, your guards went down, each man fighting until his last breath but hopelessly outnumbered. You watched in horror, paralyzed as they fell, each life extinguished in seconds. You barely registered your own scream, choked by terror and fury, as the sounds of gunfire faded, leaving only silence and blood.

Your hands fumbled, trying to unlock the doors, but they were stuck, trapping you in the vehicle like a helpless bystander in a nightmare. You felt your pulse race as the shadows closed in, and then Diego was there, standing right outside your window, his face illuminated in the dim parking lot light. He smiled, a dark, twisted smile that sent chills through you.

"Mine," he whispered through the glass, his voice laced with malice and satisfaction.

A wave of dizziness overtook you, and everything spun. His words echoed in your mind as your vision blurred. Helpless and horrified, you slipped into unconsciousness, the last image seared into your memory: Diego's face, and that sinister smile that promised nothing but darkness.

A week had passed since the attack, but the memory of it still haunted you, flickering at the edge of your thoughts as you sat on the plush velvet sofa in your expansive drawing room. Sunlight poured through the towering windows, casting a warm glow over the gleaming marble floors and the breathtaking view of the Los Angeles skyline stretched beyond, grounding you in the opulence of your mansion. The faint hum of a helicopter faded as it settled on the rooftop, carrying with it your new bodyguard: Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, a man whose reputation preceded him.

The sound of heavy boots echoed through the hallways, each step precise and deliberate, growing closer until the double doors swung open. You rose from the sofa, instinctively straightening your posture as the figure of Ghost entered the room, his presence consuming it instantly. He was massive, towering over you at 6'4", his muscular frame stretching the fabric of his black t-shirt, every inch of him exuding strength and danger. His broad chest and shoulders were carved with the kind of power that comes only from a life on the battlefield, and his thick, muscular thighs tested the seams of his black cargo pants. A holstered firearm rested against his leg, a stark reminder of the deadly world you were stepping into.

But it was his eyes that struck you the hardest. Deep brown and unwavering, they locked onto yours with an intensity that felt almost physical, as if they could see straight through every secret you held. A skull-patterned bandana covered most of his face, concealing his expression, but his gaze was enough, it was fierce, calculating, and unyielding. His buzz-cut hair, a dirty blonde, caught a hint of sunlight, and a jagged scar traced down his left temple, the brutal souvenir of battles fought and survived.

The contrast between the two of you felt almost surreal, his raw, masculine power against your delicate, fragile beauty. At just five feet tall, your frame seemed almost dainty by comparison, a striking contrast of elegance and strength. The soft material of your dress hugged your figure, emphasizing the curve of your waist and your petite, curvy form, while your brown, doe-like eyes met his with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"This is Ghost, ma'am," he nodded, his voice low, gravelly, resonant. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine, filling the room as thoroughly as his presence did.

You hesitated, caught off guard by his intensity, before extending your hand. "Lieutenant Riley," you greeted, your voice steady even as you took in every detail of the man before you. "I've heard a lot about you."

He accepted your hand, his grip firm and respectful, but his eyes stayed sharp and assessing, as if already calculating every risk, every angle of protection.

"Welcome to my mansion. How was your journey?" you asked, settling yourself elegantly on the velvet couch, your posture flawless.

"The journey was fine, ma'am," he replied, his deep voice rumbling through the room. He took a step closer, crossing his arms, his gaze intense and assessing. "The view from the landing pad is quite something, too."

You felt his eyes linger, moving over you, taking in the details of your petite frame and the way your bodycon dress clung to your curves. He tried to keep his focus professional, but it was hard not to notice the finer details.

"Tea, coffee, or whiskey?" you offered.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Whiskey," he replied without hesitation, his gaze still fixed on you.

With a small nod, you rose from the sofa and moved to the bar across the room, reaching for the bottle of Kentucky bourbon. His eyes tracked your every movement, lingering on the bare skin between the thin straps of your dress. The dress hugged your form perfectly, and though he kept his face stoic, his attention remained unwavering as you poured the amber liquid into a glass.

You turned, holding the glass in your hand, and extended it to him. He stepped forward, his calloused fingers wrapping around the glass, brushing lightly against yours. The brief contact sent a jolt up your arm, but his face revealed nothing, not a hint of reaction. He lifted the glass to his lips, taking a slow, measured sip, all the while keeping his gaze steady on you.

You leaned back onto the plush sofa, crossing your legs elegantly, watching as he brought the glass of bourbon to his lips, taking a slow sip without breaking eye contact. The slight tension in the room was palpable, each of you sizing up the other, feeling out the boundaries of this unfamiliar relationship.

"So," you murmured, a faint hint of curiosity in your tone, "you wear the skull mask, Ghost..."

His eyes narrowed slightly above the edge of his mask, a flicker of irritation passing through them. He lowered the glass, studying you in silence for a moment before he replied, his tone even. "It's part of the job," he said. "Helps me keep things... impersonal. No one gets to see my face."

You tilted your head, not breaking his gaze. "Not even me?" you asked softly, a subtle challenge in your voice. "Not even the person you're here to protect?"

There was a beat of silence, his eyes dark and unreadable behind the mask. For a moment, you thought he might look away or ignore the question altogether. But then he spoke, his tone a shade more guarded. "Protection is about distance, ma'am. Masks help with that. It's not personal, just how I keep a clear line between my duty and... everything else."

You took a slow breath, absorbing his words. "Clear lines, huh?" You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you studied him, his formidable frame, his stoic face, the shadows that clung to him. "Is that what works best for you, Lieutenant? No attachments, no faces, just the mission?"

He held your gaze, unflinching. "It's what's kept me alive." His answer was calm, unwavering, as though he'd thought it through many times before.

You nodded, acknowledging the harsh reality he lived by. "Well, I suppose I can respect that," you replied, your voice soft but thoughtful. "But you should know, Ghost, this won't be a typical mission. There are things at play here that... don't fit within clear lines."

He didn't respond, but his intense gaze on you seemed to deepen, like he was silently bracing himself for the unknown. Finally, he gave a slight nod, the barest hint of understanding in his eyes.

"Understood," he said, his tone low and resolute. And in that moment, you realized that, for all the distance he wanted to maintain, his presence, steady and unyielding, was exactly what you needed.

"Diego Garcia," you said, your voice quiet but resolute. "The Santiago Cartel."

Ghost's expression darkened. The name carried weight, a reputation steeped in violence. "Diego Garcia," he repeated, his tone grim. "Powerful, ruthless, no ordinary drug lord."

"He's bigger than Valeria Garza. More dangerous than El Sin Nombre."

Ghost's gaze was sharp, intense. "I know. Santiago Cartel is one of the deadliest in Mexico, and Garcia's the head of the snake."

"He's after me," you admitted, feeling the weight of the words as they left your lips.

Ghost's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"My company produces anti-narcotics," you explained. "We sell the cure. He sells the poison."

Recognition flickered in his eyes. "You're cutting into his profits," he said, understanding dawning. "You make him look weak."

"We're about to launch a new antidote," you continued. "One that blocks the effects of drugs like cocaine, fentanyl. It's still in testing, but it'll be on the market soon."

He nodded slowly, processing it. "The cartel won't let that happen. They'll do whatever it takes to stop you."

You felt a shiver at his words but pushed on. "He's already killed for it. My bodyguards... I watched them die, right in front of me."

A muscle tightened in Ghost's jaw. "He killed them in front of you," he said, his voice low, edged with anger. "Bastard doesn't play by any rules."

"He sent his men. They were armed with M14 rifles. My men didn't stand a chance."

His expression grew grim. "M14s. No wonder your guards didn't make it."

"Laswell suggested you," you continued, watching him closely. "She said if anyone could handle Garcia, it'd be you."

He met your gaze, a flicker of confidence in his eyes. "She's not wrong. I've dealt with men like him before." His voice was calm, unshaken. "And I'll take him down.

"Let me show you around," you said, motioning for him to follow.

Ghost nodded. "Lead the way."

The mansion was sleek and modern, blending luxury with privacy. As you walked through the marble driveway, you passed the tall, solid wooden door into the living room, its polished granite floors gleaming in the light. To the left, a door opened to the swimming pool area, surrounded by greenery. Above, a glass skywalk connected the house, offering a view of the water below.

A spiral staircase led to the second floor where your master bedroom and its luxurious bathroom were located, complete with a Jacuzzi and a high-tech shower. The back lawn opened up to the underground parking area.

As you walked, Ghost took in everything with a sharp, calculating gaze. The mansion wasn't just a home, it was a fortress. Every detail, from the barbed wire to the strategic location, was a reminder of the protection it offered.

"Like what you see?" you asked, watching his reaction.

Ghost's expression was unreadable, but his voice was steady. "It's secure," he said, eyes flicking over the property. "More than most would need."

"It's still smaller than other mansions here," you countered.

"Smaller, yes. But more secure," he said. "Most billionaires settle for an alarm system. You went further."

"The reason I don't go bigger is security," you replied. "I know Diego could breach it, but it's L.A. He'd think twice."

Ghost nodded. "Smart. L.A.'s dangerous, but Garcia would hesitate."

"Good. Let him be intimidated. Makes my job easier."

He shifted his attention back to you. "What about inside? Armed guards?"

"Outside," you said. "The perimeter's covered."

He raised an eyebrow. "Inside?"

"You..." you trailed off, letting him fill in the rest.

Part 2

Part 3

Pic credit: VhenanVirabelasan

https://www.instagram.com/vhenan_virabelasan?igsh=MWpmdnVzaXN5czYyZg==

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Working on Gomz Warmth Fic. It's called 'Hypothermic Gomz' in my WIPs folder.

The radio whirred and buzzed, but there was too much interference from the storm and all he could coax out of it was white noise and whining. "There is only static," Nik said. "It is working, but we will only get a communication through when the snow eases. For now, we must wait."

"Thas'good," John said, and then proceeded to knock into a dusty coffee table, his boots clumping heavily as he tried to steady himself.

Nik paused, his hand stilling on the dials. "Captain?" He looked over his shoulder, picking John's shape out in the gloom as his eyes adjusted to the dim light created by the fire. A sharp contrast to the almost radioactive yellow of the dials. He could see John slouched over by the door, his hand against the wall.

"Nik, I fink... Fink 'm..."

Nik abandoned the radio in the next breath and was there to catch John when he staggered, his body falling heavily into Nik's arms. There was no mistaking the signs of hypothermia; John looked confused, his eyes dilated, and when Nik yanked his glove off with his teeth and shoved his hand just on the inside of John's collar where he should be warm and dry, his skin was cold and clammy.

"Nik, 'm... S'somethin'..."

Nik dragged John towards the fire, his boots scuffing on the old wood panel floor as he struggled to find his footing. John's clothes were wet, inside and out; a combination of relentless snow melting through and the sweat from exertion meant that much of his gear's insulation had been rendered useless. Exposed for too long in adverse conditions, even the most expensive military kit couldn't keep up.

Nik peeled John out of them, tearing off velcro and unclipping buckles, swift and efficient. His palms passed over pale skin spotted with freckles, blue in some places where it should be flushed and pink. Despite its pallor, John's body was truly beautiful; strong and athletic, with its defined musculature dusted by downy body hair. If the situation wasn't so desperate, Nik might have lingered to admire every new inch he revealed. He had fantasised about it long enough in private moments, his eyes closed and his hand inside his underwear.

John tried to help. Even dazed and shivering, he knew what was wrong. Knew what the process was. But his clumsy hands only slowed Nik down, numb fingers unable to grip or feel their way over the fastenings. "Let me. I have you," Nik said gently, pushing John's hands away from his belt. He was naked for barely a handful of seconds before Nik was wrapping him in a sleeping bag, laying him down on top of the pile of furs before the fire.

There were warm packs in their Bergens and Nik cracked a few of these as he kicked off his own clothes. Sleeping bags needed actual body heat to work well, and that was something John was lacking; on their own, the heat packs wouldn't work quickly enough. This wasn't how Nik had wanted to hold John for the first time, not what he had dreamed about in those quiet hours before dawn, his hand clutched around his knot, but he didn't have time to lament fate.

Nik shivered as he grabbed the last of the blankets, a little musty, but a maid had clearly laundered them before storing them away for the final time. He draped them over in layers before sliding into the sleeping bag at John's back, large arms encircling his quivering chest and drawing him close, John's freezing body fully ensconced in life-saving warmth.

[live-laugh-lenney]

ArthurTV angst with smut at the end? 😏 or fluff 🫶

i'm just... waffling in these, at the moment.

"don't do this."

his hand was flat against the frame of her front door as soon as she pulled it open, his body being the only obstruction in her leaving her flat and stepping foot in the corridor of her flat complex. and it took yn by complete surprise... because arthur frederick was the last person she ever expected to be stood at her front door that evening.

"don't do what? arthur, you can't just turn up on my doorstep and-"

"don't go on this date."

"who told you i was going on a date? the only person i told was-" she cuts her sentence short and sighs heavily at the sudden realisation that dawned upon her at who would have shared the information with and she brought her hands up to cover her face in annoyance, "chris."

"he didn't want to tell me. i made him tell me," arthur explains, "but that's not the point."

"why are you here?"

"you know why i'm here, yn," he says, his eyes barely leaving her face, "i'm can't let you do this."

"you're the one who turned me down, arthur. you can't expect me to wait around for you, for my whole life, until you felt ready enough to have a girlfriend," she pushes his arm in an attempt to let her leave her home except he barely budged, "arthur, seriously."

"i realised how much of a mistake i made by letting you walk away that night," he gulps back the thick lump that was buried low in his throat and his eyes could barely drop from how deeply they were looking into hers, "since you told me how you felt, i haven't been able to ignore this voice in the back of my head telling me that i was an idiot for even second-guessing my own feelings i had for you."

the only image he had in his mind, almost burned into his brain, was how her face looked when he got up after she'd confessed how she felt towards him. the way her eyes glossed over at how he couldn't - or wouldn't - tell her the truth of his own feelings playing havoc in his mind. the way her bottom lip trembled behind the rim of the coffee cup in her hand and how she chewed on the lid in an attempt to keep herself from crying at his - unwanted - rejection. the way she couldn't even say a goodbye as he got up to walk away because she didn't trust her own voice to say anything.

"no, i'm not having this conversation now."

"yn-"

"no," she held up a finger to stop him before he started his sentence, "i've moved on, arthur. you rejected me, you caused me so much pain that day, so no." she shook her head and felt the courage course her veins, strong enough to have her look at him. "i'm going on this date and i'm going to enjoy my night with benjamin and when i re-tell the events to chris, when he asks, i hope he tells you everything i say because you deserve to know what you missed out on having."

all arthur could do was drop his arm from the frame of her door and step back, allowing her to close her door and lock it behind her, watching as she shoved her keys into her bag and let it hang down her shoulder.

"go home, arthur."

she turns on her heels, glittering under the harsh light of the corridor lights in the ceiling panels, and her feet take her in gentle strides to the elevator at the end of the hallway.

"one day, we'll work things out and we'll be friends again but right now," she wants to come to a halt and turn around on the spot but she can't bring herself to look at him and the doors to the lift were getting closer and closer, "right now, we need our space. i need you to go and find someone and-"

she feels a hand wrap around her upper arm and she feels a tug on her elbow, twirling her around in a hastily fashion, and she almost stumbled over her feet in the swift motion that had her back facing her desired destination. and before she could comprehend what was happening, her mind still boggling over how she'd been so quickly turned, she felt lips press against her own in a kiss that held so much passion from the moment their lips connected.

soft.

pillowy.

yet with an intense hold that had her wanting more in the moment, her arms wrapping around his neck out of pure instinct and her fingers dug deep into the hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging and twirling into the strands in an attempt to have him kiss her with as much passion as possible. his stubble rough against her soft skin but, in that moment, she didn't care.

she didn't care where they were.

she didn't care who could have been watching.

"be mine," he whispers against her lips before he pulled away from her, "please don't go on this date tonight, yn. i can't let you go. not like this and not this easy."

she was still in a daze.

"say something, please."

the silence was killing him, and he was desperate to know what was going on in her mind, her lips still moist from his own and her eyes searching his features in an attempt to give her a moment to find an answer.

"it was always you, arthur. it will always be you." x

[amomentsescape]

Wrong Place, Right Time

Billy Loomis x Reader

Summary: Billy wanted nothing more than to add four more teens to his killing list. However, you were the last one he expected to be there.

Warnings: Violence & death, fluff

Word Count: 1,231

A/N: It felt right to kick off my Slasher Summer writings with Billy. He's been a long time favorite of mine, and it just felt right. As a reminder, I am taking any and all requests. If you have a slasher you'd like me to write for, let me know!

He could already feel the adrenaline coursing through his body. He was practically shaking as he slowly crept in through the back door of a ridiculously decked out house.

"Idiots," he muttered. The people who lived here didn't even bother locking the door.

As he finally made his way inside, he could hear chatter and heavy music making its way from upstairs.

Billy smiled as he listened.

Word had clearly spread that there was some psycho murderer making their way around the area. It only seemed right for people to ban together at night, hoping that the large gathering would deter a killer from attacking.

But clearly this group wasn't being too cautious. Leaving the door unlocked and having the stereo on high wasn't exactly rule number one in any "how to stay alive in a horror movie" pamphlet.

With this being said, the group was doing at least one thing right.

They were all together in the same room.

This was going to make Ghostface's job a little more difficult, but not impossible by any means.

He quickly turned back towards the door and signaled that he was ready.

Stu nodded back at him, having been waiting outside for his cue.

Billy smiled as he watched Stu disappear. And that smile only grew when the lights all cut out, sending everyone into a hush.

He slowly made his way up the stairs in the dark, being careful not to make any sound.

He was close enough now that he could make out voices whisper-shouting to each other. One person finally groaned out a "fine" as they left the rest of the group.

Billy considered this for a moment and realized that they were likely heading outside to the electrical panel.

He let out a frustrated sigh at this, knowing that he was going to have to go after them quickly. Stu promised not to get in the way this time.

This was his night.

As he heard the front door slam shut, Billy continued his way upstairs. He'd deal with them later.

It didn't take long to get through the group. There were only three others besides whoever left.

Ghostface jumped out from the darkness and quickly stabbed the throat of some teenage boy he had seen once or twice in the halls of their high school.

The other two girls quickly jumped up and screamed as they witnessed their friend being slaughtered right before their eyes.

One headed for the front door, but he was quick to grab onto her hair and throw her hard against the ground. The wind was suddenly knocked from her and she barely had time to gasp out when the metal blade punctured into the middle of her chest.

She shook out a few spasms and coughed up blood before her eyes quickly glazed over.

Ghostface stood back up and made his way down the hall, having seen the second girl sprint in that direction just moments before.

He felt pretty confident as he walked, already knowing where she was hiding.

Only one door was closed and if Stu and him had mapped it out correctly, it was a small bathroom with a window barely big enough to fit a child through.

"Too easy," he muttered to himself.

With a few swift kicks, the door swung open to an empty room- or so one would think.

As he tore open the shower curtain, the girl jumped up and tried to slash him with a pair of pointed scissors she had found.

She was too slow however, and Billy was quick to grab her arm and throw her body against the tiled wall.

He grabbed her head forcefully and slammed it over and over before finally using his knife to finish the job.

Easy work, he thought.

With that, he suddenly heard yelling coming from downstairs.

"Guys?"

This made Billy freeze up.

That voice. How did he not recognize it sooner?

He slowly crept his way to the top of the stairs, carefully peaking over as to not be seen. And that's when he realized it was you.

For the first time that night, Billy was scared.

You were the only one that got to see a genuine smile from the boy, the only one who Billy thought was worth living.

You both had a couple of classes together, but neither of you said much to one another. Billy had to keep up his persona with Sidney, and he didn't trust himself to do that around you.

You were much too pretty and smart to talk to anyways.

Billy had overheard conversations you'd have with some of your friends during lunch or in between classes.

You loved the same horror movies as him and always glowed when talking about your favorite characters.

He couldn't help but smile almost every day while watching you, taking in every little quirk and laugh you'd let out.

Billy had no choice but to become smitten with you.

And this is why his dilemma left him at a standstill.

He didn't want to kill you. No, he couldn't kill you. You were just too precious in his world full of anger and pain.

But what was his other option? He just killed your friends.

In his defense, he'd seen you talk to these people once or twice at school. He didn't realize you actually liked them. He may be a murderer, but he's not heartless. He didn't want to kill anyone that you cared about. But it was a little late for apologies.

"Fuck," he whispered to himself.

As you stood at the bottom level, looking around for your friends, you began to hear footsteps descending the stairs.

You quickly spun to the side and saw him.

Ghostface.

Your jaw dropped as if preparing for a scream, but no sound made its way out.

What was the point anyways? Your friends were likely all dead, and that meant there was no one else to hear your screams for help.

But if he was going to kill you, he sure was taking his sweet time.

He was walking so slowly towards you. If it weren't for the current circumstance, you would have almost thought he was trying not to scare you.

As he got closer, you began to back away from him.

You kept going until your body hit the cold wall behind you.

This was it.

He finally found himself about a foot away from you, staring through you with whatever eyes were behind that mask.

Your breath hitched and your eyes began to water. Fear overcame you as you realized that you were going to die.

As the tears began to drip down your face, Ghostface closed the gap.

He raised his hand up towards you, and you flinched away knowing that he was going to grab you by the throat and crush the wind from your lungs.

However, this wasn't what happened.

You felt the leather glove softly graze against your cheek. You carefully tipped your head back in his direction, your brows furrowing.

"W-what are you-"

His hand suddenly caressed your face, his thumb running over the wet spots your tears left behind.

You watched his shoulders sag a bit, as if he finally let go of a breath he had been holding.

And without a moment to process what was happening, he disappeared into the darkness.