#hope you enoyed

[siltyriver]

𝐃𝐏𝐱𝐃𝐂 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞/𝐖𝐈𝐏 — ‘𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬’ ᴘᴛ. 2

part 1

“Hey- wha- Danny!” Jason yelled in panic and jerked forward, hands on the ledge to look down and body ready to vault after his idiot as quickly as he could, but was stopped by a familiar cackle, a sudden burst of light, and Danny himself standing, no floating, in front of him with stark white hair and green eyes that were quite literally glowing.

What the fuck.

“What the fuck,” he parroted his thoughts. His lips still tingled from where Danny had pressed his own against them and it was all together enough to make his brain short circuit.

“Yeah, so, uh, hi?” Danny waved lamely which turned into even lamer jazz hands, “Surprise?”

Jason blinked. And blinked again. “What the fuck,” he repeated again, this time with feeling. Danny winced a little and launched into an explanation.

“So, you know I died? Well, apparently while I was dying my DNA was also being infused with, like, a shit ton of ectoplasm which made sure I didn’t all the way die but I also didn’t come all the way back and ended up as half-ghost half-living — halfa is actually the term we use, but that’s not super important right now —” his words were nearly blending together with how fast he was trying to explain, “And, oh! I can transform at will and have been fighting ghosts since I was fourteen because they come through the same portal that I well, you know, died in, and I may also have some super cool powers and technically be King-to-Be of the Infinite Realms because I beat the last King in combat and inherited the throne, sooooo,” Danny finally stopped his word vomit. “Questions?” He finished meekly.

Jason stared and stared before tilting his head back and groaning. “Of fucking course my boyfriend would be a fucking ghost king. I am never going to live this down.” He scrubbed a hand down his face and turned to see Danny grinning lopsidedly at him. “What now?” He asked warily, suddenly feeling like a long nap would do him wonders and, really, the concrete roof was absolutely not the worst place he’d slept on before, so maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea—

Danny floated closer and Jason’s attention was stolen by the fact that his legs had transformed into a trail of… mist? Gas? What were ghosts even made of? Jason didn’t know but the sight was disconcerting and a little more than a bit distracting, especially paired with the skin-tight suit that had taken place of Danny’s usual baggier clothing. He took it all in with fascination and still a hint of disbelief.

“Boyfriend, huh?”

His eyes shot back up to Danny’s green ones and he flushed a bit at how close he had gotten without Jason noticing. He pinched his lips together when the question sunk in.

Well, in for a penny and all that.

Danny’s grin widened even more but Jason didn’t give him the time nor satisfaction to say something witty; he gave into his desires and cupped Danny’s face, noting both how strange it was to not have to lean down whatsoever to look Danny in the eyes (since he was still, y’know, floating) and how cold his skin was (Danny had always ran cold, but this was different, like the complete absence of any underlying heat that blood and skin produced).

Danny’s grin morphed into something softer and surprised, as if Jason had caught him off guard. Good. See how he likes it.

“Yes,” Jason stated, voice a bit gruff but soft between them, and Danny’s eyes darted back to his own from where they had been staring at Jason’s lips. Score. “Boyfriend,” and then, because he was a gentleman, thank you very much: “Only if you want, of cour—“ Jason was cut off by another press of lips on his own, only this time he was prepared and held on tighter, not letting Danny pull back as quickly.

Their lips stayed pressed together, soft and gentle and it made Jason ache with something fierce. He wasn’t used to tenderness. He wasn’t used to getting what he wanted. He wasn’t used to anyone wanting him back.

When they finally pulled away it was only to lean their foreheads against each other. Danny let out a breathless laugh and nudged his nose against Jason’s in a way that made his stomach flip at the casual affection. “Yes,” Danny said with another quick peck to Jason’s lips, “Boyfriends.”

Jason couldn’t stop the small, crooked grin if he had even wanted to try (and he really, really didn’t). It had been a long time since he had felt this good. This happy. Sure, he’d gotten a lot better in the past couple of years since he came back full of boiling green rage and the itch for violence at his fingertips, but Danny was the one to make him want to be better. Jason finally wanted to come back to himself, to allow himself the grace to forgive and be forgiven and move towards a future that wasn’t bathed in blood and tainted by the Pit Rage. He wanted a better relationship with his family. He wanted to do his city proud. And he wanted Danny by his side through it all, apparent Kingly status and everything.

“Good,” Jason said, drinking in the sight of Danny’s own giddy grin that showed off the longer and more pointed canines that Jason was definitely not imagining dragging along his skin. No siree. He shuddered, and it was definitely from the cold that Danny radiated. Nothing else.

Danny seemingly felt the shiver and pulled back a little more and with a flash of light he was back to his messy black hair and blue eyes, standing on the ledge with his arms around Jason’s shoulders much like they were before he had tried to give Jason a heart attack earlier. The temperature warmed a few degrees and Jason noted the fact to ask about later. “Good,” Danny parroted and then let out a little sigh, “Though, we really do need to talk about this so you actually know what you’re getting into. There’s… there’s a lot I need to explain.”

Jason nodded in agreement. He couldn’t imagine that anything Danny had to tell him would change the way he felt, but he would very much like to know everything. “My place or yours?”

Danny grinned mischeivously, “What, not the Batcave? The sooner I disclose my identity to all your bats the less chance of me slipping that I know and being hunted for sport, right? Plus, I think I could use Batman and Red Robin’s help on a couple of things assuming they’re amenable.”

Jason shook his head immediately, not wanting to imagine how the conversation would go with his entire family there to harass them without them being a hundred percent prepared (and very curious about what exactly Danny could need Bruce and Tim’s help with).

“Absolutely not. I’m not letting that conversation happen with you there until I know they can all behave themselves and not be asses about it. Jason was especially worried about Bruce’s reaction considering the man’s trust issues and his invasive need to pry and leave no stone left unturned. His siblings would be nosy and insufferable with their teasing but at least Jason was used to their antics and could shield Danny from the worst of it by giving them the short rundown before the full question panel had to happen. No, better for Jason to learn it all first and be able to prepare them both for the inevitable shitshow.

Danny shrugged, “Probably best to go to my place anyway; I stole a bunch of tech from my parents and it’s way easier to explain everything with some visual examples.”

Jason arched a brow, “What kind of tech?”

Danny’s grin was down right devilish as he transformed once more with a flash of light and held out an inviting hand as he floated a few feet away from the ledge, “How do you feel about going ghost hunting?”

Jason had a sudden feeling that Danny was going to be the death of him, but, strangley, the thought wasn’t nearly as frightening as it should have been. Maybe Danny was onto something when he said dying once really put things into persepctive. After all, there were much worse ways to go.

He confidently stepped onto the ledge and grabbed the offered hand tightly, “Bring it on, Ghost King.”

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

[tripecake]

GROUNDER REDRAW...a really ulgy redraw

This looks like shit but well I wanted to draw grounder Btw yeah I do know the context of this scene But let me be happy with my evil baby okay?💔💔💔💔

[camelspit]

something lgbt and brant. your choice. ill draw hekster at some point you can hold me to it

love is love

@skylilac @callas-pancake-tree @arson-anarchy-death @steal-nightmares-leave-dreams @abubble125 @purplesoup-lad-le @gay-otlc @thefoxysnake @keeper-of-the-lost-dadwin @kamikothe1and0lny @remember-me-in-another-time @you-have-been-frizzled @presidentroarie @cowboypossume @even-if-in-another-time @that-glasses-dog @slozhnos @treehouse-arson @lemon-girl-in-devil-town @three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat @purpleunicycle @frogs-and-flowers-and-faeries @florida-preposterously @stop-stealing-tomatoes

[gumjester]

AND AWAY WE GO!

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Ever After High Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Raven Queen (Ever After High), Evil Queen (Ever After High), Good King (Ever After High), Cedar Wood Additional Tags: Alternate Canon Summary:

The fairytale world lies shaken by the Queen War. The next generation of tales is about to take up the mantle, but new conflict bubbles below the surface, threatening the tumultuous tranquillity the world is striving to maintain. The fourth years of Ever After High are approaching their Legacy Day. Everything is uncertain, and anything is possible.

[beetlethebug]

hey so my brain is stuck on the thought of aradia x gamzee and i'm just thinkin',,,what if they were matesprits. if you wanna go dark with it, doc scratch could have done so much more like? grooming and shit to aradia. caliborn and gamzee have a fucked up relationship but ya know, his dad deserves a handmaid too as he ushers in a new era. a gamzee who killed equius for not bringing aradia back right. an aradia who just wants to be free, who is maid of time and yet not a single second has even been hers. who wants to share this freedom with her friend, her matesprit. a gamzee who wants to see aradia go apeshit. who wants to see her fight for herself and what she wants. honestly? red-rom is fun but imagine a pitch relationship. a fucked up rivalry where they keep pushing and pushing, both wanting what the other has, other feels but can't get the other person to experience it.

[your-pink-bitch]

[pink seemed to be laying on his couch reading a book... You take a closer look and notice the name of the book... 'dummies guide to anons'... Pink let's put a frustrated sigh and gets up from the couch]

"ugh this shit didn't tell me how to re hide my goddamn tail and ears, fuck it I'm going to try cutting them off I know i left some hedge clippers somewhere"

[he says tossing the book on a night stand, lands on its back... Do you care to take a read? ]

[undiscloscd]

happy birthday amanda <3

here's a collection of pictures depicting my feelings for you. enjoy

hi babyyy, i'm gonna keep this short because words are hard and honestly you already know how much i love you. but i hope you know and that you'll never forget how truly appreciative i am of you and your support. and i am so endlessly proud of you, you're such a fighter but also lbr such a lover. you are amazing and talented and kind and funny and so fucking real. i love you so goddamn much and i hope you have the best day ever, full of love. and if you ever decide to swing by denmark you know i'll be there, your hostest with the mostest <3 i love you 3000. @devilscherubs

[emeraldbabygirl]

WHY IS EVERYONE SO FUCKING HOT

[whumperstorm]

Day 1 of Repostober! Featuring the four main characters of Last Chance; Zephyr, Vivian, Keegan and Basel, in a Steven Universe meme <3

I wish I could give you any dates for comparison but the best I can tell you is some time in early College vs Senior Year?? of College lmao

[azol-otl]

So this is my THIRD attempt at replying to this because Tumblr hates me and is homophobic, and hates Pokemon and friendship. But I needed these words to show you because I love this.

Jason steps outside of the gym and takes a deep breath. It doesn't burn his lungs anymore, and he isn't sure how to feel about it. Once he set up shop in Bristol as the first gym leader the city has had in decades, the squirt had campaigned for a controlled introduction of Galarian Weezing to Gotham. Not enough to overwhelm the high population of dark-types, nor so many that the drastic change in air quality leads to ecological devastation of Gotham's...unique relationship with poison-types. In practice it means that even after only a few years, the air quality has improved enough that the risk for cancer has dropped to a quarter it had once been. It meant that Crime Alley, with its large amounts of ghosts who welcomed the new fairy type as a deterrent for dark-types that would cause them grief by protecting them from any ground- or steel-types. So clean air for Crime Alley, air that is foreign to Jason's lungs despite having been stationed here for over a decade. Hell, everything about Crime Alley is foreign to Jason when he gives himself time to rest and contemplate. Something that would have been impossible when he first started, too busy juggling Gym Leader Jason, Elite Four Jason, and the crime lord Red Hood.  Except he has so much more free time these days. His gym trainers are all people he trusts or taught himself. People have been reaching the Elite Four more often than before, but unlike Galar or Paldea, Gotham can go the entire gym circuit without anyone even reaching Jason that year. And somehow, somehow all the stupid optimistic proposals that Jason shoved in the League's face (things he was going to start doing anyway as Red Hood, but y'know, he wanted to see if they'd keep their word about how much free reign he had if he accepted the Elite Four position) not only got approved, but they worked. Better healthcare for residents, job programs, free trainer classes, a massive subsidy for Gotham natives to enrourage them to do the gym circuit at home instead of traveling to Unova (Dick) or Metropolis. Fuck, even demanding them to fix the Finger Bridge and crackdown on Arkham got done without complaint. Hell, he's sure that Bruce still hates him for the "unfortunate" accident between the Joker and a foreign Champion who defended themselves against the miserable wretch who has been flaunting Bruce's hard-on for him for decades. It means Gotham is on the up-and-up. It means Jason spends more time sending e-mails and organizing budgets and committees than he does busting heads. It means that somehow, Jason had succeeded in his goals. Goals he thought were going to be a constant battle until they finally took his life and he'd reanimate as one of the many ghosts of his hometown. Goals that he accomplished before he was even thirty. Jason stopped at the park. A massive thing, basically a contained wild area within the urban sprawl of Gotham. There was a reason Crime Alley used to be called Park Row, and it was how it connected to all this green. The second largest after Robinson Park down to the south. The number of people here is always a surprise to Jason. He'd grown up with this unnamed park resembling a poison swamp from hell, not something that people, non-trainers even, could just relax in. The result of another of the baby bat's proposals (and Ivy) changing the region for the better. In the corner of his eye Jason catches something odd.  A sinistea...a brown sinistea. Sinistea don't come in brown, and even shinies remain purple. It could be a convergent evolution like Poltchageist, but Jason would have seen one by now if that was true. It could be a new form of shiny, some sort of outside stress causing its unique coloration like the famous red Gyarados from Johto. Or it could be a new regional variant. The first that they'd have contemporary knowledge about their divergence. Turning fully to the Pokemon to talk to their trainer, Jason sees a familiar face. Tim Drake, out of the office for once? Not just out of the office, but in the sun surrounded by nature?

Jason starts walking towards him, not really sure what he can say to the guy who single-handedly gave Crime Alley kids a way to access the PC system when everything was moved to roto-phones and other things that cost money they didn't have. Jason has to...thank him? Question why he's even here when his office in n the South Island and closer to Robinson than here? Ask him to dinner while Jason stares at him like a creep? Where the fuck he got that Sinistea? In the end all thoughts leave his head when Sinistea, clearly annoyed at its trainer, spews water at him. Jason doesn't even get a warning when the laugh is ripped out of him. Maybe Jason can offer to help train Tim's Sinistea while he figures out how to thank him for all he's done.

Trick or treat!! 🎃🍫🍬🍭

Happy Halloween! Spooky season naturally got me thinking about ghosts... which got me thinking about ghost-type pokemon... :^)

When Tim got into this line of work, he'd said to himself it would only be temporary. Something to do while he was figuring it all out. Dropping out of your gym challenge is supposed to be temporary, but sometimes you get so distracted fixing an infamous glitch in the Burnside PC branch that you're scouted at seventeen. What was he supposed to do? Turn down the opportunity of a lifetime just to drag his Alakazam into more battles it hates? He knows he could have gone further, but Tim isn't the most motivational trainer on a good day. It would have been miserable for everyone involved. These days, Alakazam prefers meditating in an easy chair. Which works out, because these days Tim is practically chained to his office desk chair. He still doesn't know why he can't work from home (or from anywhere) because his work is digital, but apparently making yourself irreplaceable is a double edged sword; you must also be available for people to find you so they can talk to you. Tim has had so many conversations that could have been emails. (Babs makes fun of him for this constantly.) Over a decade after the fact, Tim still wonders what his life would be like if he'd pushed through. If he'd said thanks, but no thanks, and gone for his last few badges. Instead, the closest he gets to training these days is the Sinistea he picked up on a fanciful whim, thinking he could make time for it. He's watched his friends' advancing careers from the other end of a television screen, catching Kon's gym battles between code launches and admin meetings. Sometimes he'll see Jason. Not that he's looking for Jason specifically. It's purely professional interest. Crime Alley's gym challenge used to be notorious. Always cast as the villain with a rep for fronting most of the gang activity in the region, it only started to turn around after Jason took over. He'd scowl if you suggest it, but Jason's work with ghost-type pokemon is unparalleled. His work in general is unparalleled. Better programs, better outreach. Tim sees the numbers. Tim's the one who crunches, analyzes, and predicts the numbers. He knows that ghost-, dark-, and poison-type catch and retention rates have spiked in the last five years. And those numbers correlate suspiciously to the bump in trainers completing their gym challenge, trainers whose town of origin is-- wanna take a guess? So, yeah. Sometimes Tim will see Jason on the news, or catch highlight footage of his latest E4 sub-in. His Zoroark is really something else. It is purely professional. Tim was a trainer too, once upon a time. He can appreciate skill and talent in action, and he can maybe wish that he had the time to see it in person more often without it being a huge deal. It doesn't have to be a whole thing. This is what he tells himself on one of his rare days off, minding his own business at a public training ground at the park-- when who does he see but Jason fucking Todd. In the flesh. He can be casual about this. Really, he can. He knows when Jason spots him, because Tim is staring like a moron, and he watches Jason's expression morph from straight-faced, public disinterest to smirking recognition to-- Something he doesn't catch, because that's when Sinistea gets fed up with being ignored, and blasts him in the face with scalding hot water. Under his own loud, pained cursing and Sinistea's whistled scolding, he thinks he hears Jason laugh at him in surprise. Tim's face is hot and red, and he knows it's only mostly to blame on his half-trained ghost pokemon. Oh god, why is Jason even here? He's the only person on this whole fucking continent who might feasibly be busier than Tim. Why is this happening to him? He should have stayed at the office.

(For the trick or treat ask game! Send me a trick or treat ask and I'll share jaytim WIP snippets, or new 3-sentence -paragraph fics, etc :^) through the 31st!)

[theconstantstateofwhat]

Chapter 7 of  “Who said being a (teenage) superhero is easy?”

Here’s the link! hope yall will enjoy it and I’ll see you more on this new account for the fic!

[gladiatorcunt]

hey ryn!!!!! sooo i saw this (nsfw link incoming)

https://x.com/sexarchiv/status/1736871466501648453

and was desperate to hear your thoughts on this w patrick +++ art watching

love you love you🎖️💕

hi!!!!! i’m sorry this is so late but i went crazy over the link and art does a lil more than watch but i hope you like it 💘💘💘

cw: 18+ mdni, art and patrick make out during this (nsfw twt link), implied sub reader / switch patrick / dom art, one use of daddy, gross patrick who whines a lot, art being lowkey possessed by tashi (he’s on something in this one), nipple play (?), teasing, unedited

It’s a quiet night in with your boyfriends, there’s left over pizza in the fridge and the roku city background on the tv casts a soft purple glow over your shared bedroom. You’re too tired to get changed, the three of you lounge on the king sized bed in various states of undress. It’s supposed to snow during the night, so there’s just a sort of cozy vibe in the air. You really weren’t intending on being intimate with your boyfriends for the rest of the day, but absentminded strokes up Patrick’s sweaty torso quickly turn into palming his thick bulge in his boxers. Patrick softly groans, squirming and spreading his legs to give you better access.

Art slips his hand into his matching set of briefs and pumps his dick to hardness, synching his strokes up with yours. He shuffles up the bed to lie down right next to Patrick, using one arm to move Patrick to lay back against him. Art leans his head on Patrick’s, ready to tease and whisper whenever he sees him getting sensitive. Patrick automatically puckers his lips for a kis but Art cruelly denies him, not wanting to distract the other man from your touches. Somehow your hand manages to look small in comparison to Patrick’s girth, and Art squeezes his balls as he imagines it around his own length.

“He’s gonna cum too fast.” Art says, knowing that you don’t take control with Patrick like he does, but goading you on regardless.

“You just feel so good, ‘s not my fault.” Patrick moans as your thumb circles around his pinkish red cock head.

You dip your nail into the slit and lean down to let some of your saliva slowly drip down onto his aching cock. With the added lube, you pump your hand a few more times and put your wrist into it. You’re so lost in the deep groans coming from above you and seeing his pretty cock somehow pull off looking like it’s on the verge of tears that you almost forget that there’s an end goal to all of this. You’re just so in love and in actual awe of how gorgeous a dick can be, Patrick’s nastier overall but it only makes his cock look even better.

The tip is glistening and you peck it a couple times, grinning at the tiny beads of precum that trickle out of his slit. Art reflexively licks his lips and thumbs his own head, just enoying his partners playing with each other and being more than very appreciative of his favorite show. The atmosphere is so sleepy and relaxed that not many words are being spoken. It’s most a flurry of soft grunts, whines, and sweet nothings that are lost to the white noise from different sources around you.

“Go ahead and make daddy cum while I give him kisses, ‘kay?” Art coos, more at Patrick than you as he tilts his chin up with one finger and softly presses their lips together.

The kiss soon turns into a frenzied slide of their lips, swapping so much spit that their tongues actually hardly touch. You squeeze your thighs together before going back to what you were doing, trying your hardest to not cum on the spot because of them. You push your shirt down just under your tits, hissing as a rush of cold air hits your already hard and sensitive nipples. Patrick jumps like he’s been shot when you lower your full tits to brush against his weeping cock, circling your thumb around the head and tracing a vein or two.

He whines into his kiss with Art as you lower yourself even further to press your nipple into his tip. He stops being an active participation in the makeout session, too preoccupied with the teasing touch of your nipple gliding up and down his cock head. Something about your nipples being so small but so soft to the touch, getting him so worked up over the tiniest bit of flesh. It’s a feeling that’s akin to circling a vibrator around his length, but your nipples ghosting along his dick make him want to sob. He relases a symphony of broken sounds into Art’s lips, softly spoken and inhuman.

You grip the base of Patrick’s cock, holding it steady as you gingerly move your nipple up and down the tip. You take your time to really press it in deep, squishing it a bit as you force it all around him. This has you ready to cum too, the chilly air combined with how wet Patrick’s cock is sets your brain on fire, but you’re not about to have to clean your panties and be embarrassed. Art’s right, it doesn’t take much of you dragging your nipples over his slit and around his puffy tip before he’s oozing all over your hand and tits. You work him through his quick orgasm, slowing down the speed of your nipple and moving to drag it along his entire length now.

You even circle it around his balls, heartbreakingly slow but you’re not trying to make him blow his load again. Art soothes Patrick through his twitching, if the wet smacks of lazy french kisses are anything to go by.

You look up to see Art give you a two finger ‘come here’ gesture, and when you’ve crawled back up the bed to join them, you notice how damp his underwear is. Art pulls you into their kiss and drags your sticky hand to cover his soaked bulge, keeping it there as you spend no time rushing this languid embrace with your boyfriends. Before you know it they’ll be back on the court and all they’ll have time for is near bloody quickies in your shower until they head back out to practise.

Art hums, lifting his hand to pet you and Patrick, sucking both of your tongues and giggling at the whimpers you let out.

“It’s my turn now, hm?”

[f1tales]

i beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker - mv1

that's that me espresso || part five

previous part || next part

pairing: max verstappen x ofc!piastri

summary: oscar’s older sister is a singer, who’s taylor swift’s opening act for the eras tour. she goes to a few races on her break. she meets max; who thinks about her every night now. much to oscar’s annoyance.

author's note: it's very dialogue heavy towards the end, but it's a videocall and idk how to write that any differently. i also don't really know where i'm going with this whole fic, but i'm having fun writing it. it's like a little break from other fics i'm working on. more serious ones, maybe? idk. hope you enoy x

face claim: sabrina carpenter

Ivy hurriedly got out of the car. She rushed towards Max, who was still standing in front of the building with his arms crossed over his chest. The expression on his face was hard to read.

"Max," Ivy breathed out in front of him. She tried to smile, but her face trembled as she stood in front of him.

The media had really put her through it with her relationships before. But she never cared before. She wouldn't let the media ruin what she was trying to build with Max. She couldn't let them do that.

"I know how cliché this sounds, but it's really not what it looks like!"

Max frowned as he looked from Ivy to Daniel. Daniel was standing just a few meters away from them, by the side of his car. Ready to jump in the car and speed off should the situation demand it.

"Can you please look at me?" Ivy grabbed Max's hands. She smiled, "I came to surprise you."

"Consider me surprised," he muttered.

Ivy looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. Be like that. Don't hear me out then. Trust me, I have no problem getting back in Daniel's car and have him drive me straight back to Nice airport."

Ivy saw the way Max visibly deflated at those words. His arms dropped from the cross over his chest to the side of his body. He nodded, silently telling Ivy to continue. She looked around, they were still outside.

"First, we're going back to yours."

She turned on her heel to grab her suitcase from Daniel. She gave him a hug and thanked him for picking her up from the airport. She wheeled the suitcase behind her and dropped it in Max's hands before strutting towards his car.

Daniel laughed at the whole ordeal. It was a funny sight: Ivy, standing with her arms crossed next to the passenger side of Max's car and Max fumbling with his car keys to open the booth. Daniel waved at the pair when they finally drove off.

They drove in silence to Max's flat. They also rode the lift up in silence. Max opened the door for her, watching as she walked in. He trailed behind with her suitcase in hand.

Ivy sat down on the couch and patted the space next to her. She waited for Max to sit down next to her before she turned her body towards him.

"I don't know what you saw online, but I didn't fly all the way from Australia for you to just jump to conclusions about me and Daniel. I thought you knew me better than that. And if not me, at least Daniel."

Max stayed quiet as he looked down at his feet. She was right. He knew she was right. Yet, when he had seen those pictures online of Daniel and Ivy he couldn't help but jump to conclusions.

He released a long breath before looking at the gorgeous girl sitting next to him, "I'm sorry. I got so insecure when I saw you with Daniel. I know he's a lot better looking than I am and-,"

Before he knew it, Ivy had wrapped her arms around him. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek with a smile on her face.

"Don't ever say that again, okay?" Ivy firmly shook her head. "It's you I want. Not Daniel, okay?"

Max nodded, "okay."

Ivy grinned, "now, I've come to meet your fur children. Where are they?"

The Dutchman laughed as he stood up. He motioned for Ivy to follow him so he could introduce her to his cats.

Later that evening, Ivy was sitting on Max's couch. She had just showered and had changed into one of his hoodies. One she'd been wearing she he tactically left it for her at Daniel's farm weeks ago. Max was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two of them.

She had her phone in her hand, Oscar's face filling the screen. "It was just a misunderstanding."

Oscar didn't seem convinced on the other end of the line, "you sure? I can ditch the MTC now and be there in three hours to kick his arse."

The older Piastri sibling rolled her eyes, "I'm older than you, remember? I think if anything, I should look after you."

It was now Oscar's turn to roll his eyes, "I'm always going to look after you. Especially after you know."

"I know."

Ivy gasped when she felt something jump up on the couch next to her. She turned her head to find one of Max's cats curling up to the side of her. She smiled as she started stroking the cat. She turned back to Oscar.

"Where are you going?"

Oscar looked rather smart for a quiet night in. Ivy watched him rummage around in his apartment. He appeared back in the screen, "just dinner with Lando," he mumbled as he put his watch on.

The singer grinned, "why you all dressed up for dinner with Lando?"

"Please, Vee," he groaned, "we're friends. And it's a fancy restaurant."

"Hm, the blush on your face says something different. And I've seen the heart eyes you make at him. The whole internet has."

Oscar cleared his throat, "right I think you of all people should know not to believe the internet." He looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "Anyway, I'm leaving now."

Ivy heard footsteps approaching, which must mean Max finished cooking. "Okay, love you. Say hi to Lily and Lando for me." She laughed as Oscar groaned again.

"Okay, bye. Love you."

Max sat down on the couch with Ivy. He handed her a bowl of pasta, keepig one for himself. "What was that about?"

The singer shook her head with a smile on her face, "I'll explain at some point." They ate in silence for a while with the TV playing in the background, the Dutch version of First Dates playing. Ivy turned to Max, "can I show you a song I wrote after dinner?"

The driver's eyes widened, "of course! I'd be honoured."

Ivy grinned, "it's called Espresso."

part six coming soon

taglist: @mastermindbaby @charlesgirl16 @a-beaverhausen @shelbyteller @anilovessadbooks

[naturesapphic]

intersex dom Lady D x submissive wife reader who loves to ride her and Lady D just wraps her arms around her holding her down w/mommy kink and overstimulation pretty please!🖤

Day Seven: Riding

Intersex!dom!lady dimitrescu x sub!fem!reader

Warnings: Dom/sub, mommy kink, ass slapping, overstimulation

Kinktober masterlist

“Come on darling, that’s it. Riding mommy so good aren’t you baby?.” She purrs in your ear as you move your hips back and forth. You let out a whimper in response but alcina didn’t like that response. “Words.” She demanded as she landed a smack to your bare ass making you let out a loud moan. “Y-yes m-mommy!” You struggle to get out and she smirked. “That’s a good girl. Come on now, keep going.” Alcina instructed you and you nodded.

Your movements started to slow down and alcina growled, slapping your ass again, making you sit up on her lap. “I know you are close baby. You’re so close.” She said as her hands on your hips tighten their grip. You struggled to ride her as your orgasm was here but you kept going, cumming all over her cock. Alcina smiled at you wickedly and all of a sudden she pushed her hips up, shoving her cock deeper inside of you. You let out a squeak and looked at her, her eyes still filled with lust.

She grabbed your body that was still on top of her snd started jackhammering into you. Your mouth fell agape as she started to fuck you like an animal as you never felt this good before. You could feel everything she was giving you and she was hitting all of the right spots that make making you go silent and see stars. “Awwww my little baby going silent now?” She teased and you whimpered. “F-feels t-too good.” You gasp out as alcina slowed her thrusts but she slammed into you every few seconds.

Alcina kept fucking you until you were crying and begging for her to stop but she wanted to make you cum one last time. “Can’t you give me one more baby? Just one? Be a good girl for mommy now.” Alcina whispered in your ear as she continues to fuck you, her thrusts slow and gentle as she knows you are extremely sensitive right now. “O-okay…” you whimpered out and alcina gives you a big smile. “What a good girl. Cum for mommy.” She said as she starts nibbling on your neck as her cock in buried deep inside of you. Your hands were on her soft back, clawing at it, the pleasure consuming you.

Not long after, you came for the tenth time that night and you were completely fucked out and spent. Alcina gently pulled out of you and you let out a loud whine. “Shhh shhh im sorry baby it’s okay. Let’s go to sleep now little mouse. I’ll clean and take care of you in the morning.” She whispered in your ear as she takes you into her arms, you immediately cuddling up to her. “Sweet dreams darling.”

A/n: thank you anon for this request, I hope you and everyone else enoyed it! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all!

[ghosts-to-reid]

Neo Gothic IV

Summary: Spencer invites you to stay with him whilst you are being targetted. The journey of emotions is one you did not expect.

A/N: IM SORRY ITS SO LATE I HAD SO MUCH WORK TO DO She isn't proofread but she is LONG so i hope you enoy!

18+ Series! Mentions of murder and death.

SPENCER REID REQUESTS ENCOURAGED AND WANTED

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 5 / Masterlist / Bibliography

Spencer hasn't left your side since he parked his car in the BAU's parking lot. A lingering gaze around the room as he guides you with a soft hand, ghosting your lower back. He sits you down on a plush chair in Hotch's office, sending Penelope to fetch tea whilst he briefs Hotch on what he thinks the next steps should be. Never straying further than 3 feet away.

Meanwhile, you were still in a state of terror induced silence.

The memeory of Spencer so methodically opening that box, his almost clinical response, as if this was a normal day for him. It scared you to death. Blinking away the image of the dead raven was nearly impossible as you stared, glazed eyes pointed to the rough grey carpet. The poems once macabre comfort, noe turned sour as the stanzas float through your mind, You'd analysed this poem to death. You know the meaning behind it, all thee knowledge you had on poe began to spin throigh your head like a whirlwhind, trying to find any other meaning in the words-

"Here." Spencer's soft voice broke you from your trance, blinking away the dryness behind your eyes, you gingerly take the tea from him, taking a small sip. Spencer is crouched before you, one hand on your knee as he casts a concerned gaze to you through a furrowed brow. Hotch had left at this point, leaving the pair of you alone whilst he organises the team.

After a moment, you finally broke the silence you had kept since your abject discovery.

"The poem... It's about love. But love of a twisted kind. One that persists after death..." Your pace began to pick up as all your previous thoughts come fourth "It's about how strong love can be, hell he climbs into her grave in the end, that's what a sepulchre is you know? a tomb. and he called me 'Sanguinary' that's bloodshed, like a lot- a lot of blood- Spencer- Oh my God, does that mean he want's to spill my blood- Oh my God"

By the end, you have begun a terror filled tyrade, with all your fear and adrenaline coming to the forefront and begging to wreck your body with stilted sobs, the threat of hyperventing . Spencer has leaned forward, grabbign the mug from your hand whilst softly shushing you. Placing his hands softly on your shoulders, he squeezes so slightly, trying to bring you back from the ledge.

"Shhhh... It's ok. We're going to figure this out. The team is going to look over everything again okay? Just breathe with me." Softly, he ran his hands downyour arms, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he took slow deep breathes with you. Eventually, your sobs have stilted, and your breath returns to a normal pace. Spencer holds your hands in his "It's going to be okay, You're safe. I promise."

"But... Where am I going to stay? My... My house is a crime scene, and I can't even go back because now i'm being targeted by some guy who liked Poe a bit too much!" Pulling your hands from his, you place your head in your hands in frustration, rubbing your temples to ease the stress headache that is threatening to pentrate your brain.

After a moment of silence, Spencer pulls your hands away from your face, oncemore holding them in his. "You can stay at my house, with me. And then we can go to work together, where you'll be safe, and then i'll be there to keep you safe, okay?" His thumb rubbed your hand softly, and after a minute of hesitation you nod. agreeing to stay with spencer seems like your safest option. A moment later, the intimate scene was interupted by Hotch, calling you to go with him. Spencer explains that now you were a target, they will need to interview you to find any possible suspects.

Spencer leaves you to go and work with Emily and Derek, Hotch guides you to an interogation room, explaining the setting is purely formality. Sitting across from the pair, you fumble with your ring nervously.

"Y/N, Is there anyone in your life that you may have noticed taking a particular intrest in you in the last 3 months? It might not be in any significant way, maybe small ways." Hotch asks, his brows furrowed with cocnern.

"Think about people in your classes, we know the unsub knows your interest in the gothic as a student, was there any faculty or students who you might have spoken to, maybe even had a study session with?" JJ's voice is soft, kind as she navigates you through the interview. Your thoughts flooded with interactions you have had the past 5 years with your classmates, any significant or not, shaking your head after a moment.

"No, I can't think of anything... I've not made many connections since... since my parents died... I moved here and went head first into my studies, I haven't particularly focused on friendships or relationships until now."

"It could be an interaction as small as you lending them notes. From what we can gather, this unsub has crafted this fantasy around you and your interests. Stalkers like this can be triggered by even the tiniest moment of kindness." Hotch gazes at you softly, calmly probing you for information. After another moment, a small memory emerges.

"There was this guy... Tyler Jones. He worked with me as a TA in my undergrad, we both study the field. He asked me out once but I said no... He didnt ask again so I forgot about it. But he was really into the gothic, almost more than me."

When you mentioned a name, JJ had Garcia run it. She quickly discovered that Tyler had been studying his masters in Texas. This revaltion shook you, and most of the team quickly moved to locate him. As the three of you went to leave, JJ held your shoulder, causing you to pause

"Where are you staying?" Her voice was kind, still carrying the soft tone that everyone seemed to be coddlying you with.

"Im staying with Spencer actually, he offered before." JJ gives you a small smile, and pats your arm softly

"I've never seen him take to someone so quickly." She smiles "He's never like this with anyone new." Confusion painted your features for a moment, and with her impressive profiling skills, she of course caught that.

"You know he's a big germaphobe right? I saw him comforting you before, do you know how long it took him to get comftorble enough for him to even give me a handshake?" She laughs lightly, causing a ghost of a smile to find your features. Spencer had never shown you any indication of that, obviously. It's doubtful you would've noticed if JJ hadn't just told you. Before the conversation could continue, Spencer joins you both

"Y/N, I'm going to take you back to my apartment. Emily and Garcia are going to yours to grab some things for you, but right now we don't need much else from you, so i convinced Hotch to let us go early, Only if that's ok with you!" He begins a ramble of his own about your options, causing you and JJ to share a look of amusment. You interupt him with a small nod of your head, and a goodbye to JJ before Spencer leads you away, gathering your things before taking you to his apartment

The car ride felt odd for some reason. Either the situation of some random psycho sending you dead birds, rife with symbolism of deadly obsession, but you chose to focus on the fact that this was odd because it was the first time you were going to Spencer's apartment, instead of yours.

The ride was relatively quiet until you had turned on the radio, settling for a station playing old rock. There was silence otherwise, but there was also no tension past the obvious, there was an ease of nature between you two.

Eventually pulling to the curb, he leads you to through the old building, and into his apartment. The place embodied Spencer, The dark green walls barley visible through the expanse of bookcases, that were still too little to hold the amount of books he owned, with the remainder littering any other surface that was possible. The ebony wood of his furniture absorbed most of the light, with Spencers solution being a small army of lamps illuminating any corners that were eclipsed. Coffee and Patchouli, the scent of old books all comforted you immediatly, and you momentarily forgot your woe in the warm embrace of the domestic life of Spencer Reid.

Guiding you to his worn leather sofa, spencer exits to make the two of you tea. The day had quickly gotten away from you, the horror of the raven, the terror of being targeted, made the hours fly by and you noticed the time was nearer to Dinner than lunch, and that reminder caused a surprisng growl to erupt from your stomach. Whipping around at the sound of a laugh, you spot Spencer holding two mugs of steaming tea, slowly moving towards the sofa

"I guess dinner is probably a good idea, considering we missed lunch in the panic" placing your mug in front of you, he takes the place beside you. Sipping from his cup whilst eyeing you, gaguing your mental state.

"We could order in? It'll be my treat, as a thank you." This was the first time you had spoken since arriving, not out of horror this time, but from simple pensive thought. Though now, you were happy to focus on Spencer, and forget about the wider world outside his door. Spencer begtins to argue with you, but you're already arguing. Eventually, he submits and allows you to order you both pizza.

Emily and Pen eventually arrive to drop off your things, only stopping by briefly before they go to track down Tyler. They give you a tight hug each, before promising to do all they can. Penelope is far more concerned than you currently are, finding solace in your situation. Silver linings on all clouds exist after all...

Settling on the couch once more, Spencer turns his head to you.

"So, I guess this throws a wrench in our date plans?" He had a sheepish demenour, he was sat in one corner, facing you, whilst you sat with your legs tucked up underneath yourself in the other. Quirking your head to side you raise a brow of inquisition

"Why does it?" Is all you state simply, confusing the man beside you

"Well, I don't think it's a good diea if you go out, the unsub could follow you, and we can't do much here..." His lips form a small line, he was clearly dissapointed by the prediciment but trying not to show it.

"Why does it have to? A date is quality time after all... Hell, we could have a date tonight if we liked." Softly speaking, you shuffle towards him, closing the small gap and placing your hand on hiS "Pizza nad a movie night, under blankets, cuddling, that sounds far better to me than a fancy restraunt."

Spencer gives you a soft smile, and thinks for a moment "I think we can do that... What do we need to do?" Shifting in your position, any fear is forgotten as you eagerly explain to Spencer the idea, get into your pyjamas, pig out on pizza, talk, joke, and watch a movie. He seems caught of guard by simplicity but eagerly agrees. Changing into pyjamas, obviously picked by Penelope, as eahc pair packed are all variations of cartoon pyjamas that had been gifted to you years ago. Of course, still beggars cant be choosers, putting on your pyjamas in the bathroom, you exit to see Spencer setting up the couch with blankets and pillows. He has a loose FBI Academy tshirt on, and plain grey joggers. The pizza is on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and eventually, Spencer turns to see you watching him. He gives you a smile.

He has turned off the lights, leaving only a lamp or two lit. The cosy enviroment has made you long forget any terror, forcing you to focus on the man in front of you.

"Did I do it right?" He asks shyly as you make your way over to him, with a smile you pull him into a hug.

"It's perfect." He pulls you closer before you break a part, sitting beside one another.

The first movie is your choice, a Hammer House of Horror retelling of Elizabeth Bathory, the Vampire Countess. Spencer enjoys telling you the historical innacuracies, but you don't bother telling him you knew this already. Enjoying his enthusiasm on the topic much more. By the end of the movie, the pair of you are hip to hip.

The second is Spencer's choice. It's a film in French, that has no english dubbing. He thinks you'd enjoy it for its horror elements, and he offers to translate it for you. He pulls you in close to him, arm around your figure as he whispers softly in your ear.

By the third movie, it is late. The pair of you debate the practicality of a third film at this hour. He reassurse you Hotch has given him leave to guard you when you worry about how early he has to wake up, and you sooth his worry at the fact you may not rest. You assure him that after the events of today, you would rather watch films with him rather than your alternative of replaying the image of that raven, and igniting your fears once more.

The third movie is a shared choice, after a few minutes of searching, you discover a new release that intrigues you both. His arm is still around you as the film plays, and there is a quiet calm. Your head is laid against his chest, and you tune into his steady heartbeat. His hands trace ghosts of symbols on your skin, causing small goosbumps to form in their wake. There is a domestic bliss in this moment, as this was the most natural position for the pair of you, that you were meant to fit perfectly under his arm like this. Like, the pair of you were the creatures that Plato had described all those years ago. A perfect pair.

"This is the best date i've ever been on" You mutter softly, eyes still looking to the screen. Spencer looks down to you on his shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips.

"I think I can make it better though." His voice is almost a whisper, his confidence wavering slightly as he spoke. Moving to meet his gaze, you find him with a look of adoration in his eyes. Blinking, you hum in response to encourge him to continue. Slowly, he moves to meet your lips, placing a slow, chaste kiss where he lands. It is so tender, it surprises you. After the gruffness of the events of today, you welcome the tenderness of his lips, and return it best you can. The kiss lasts a few slow, passionate moments, before you break for air. The pair of you are awestruck by one another, film now forgotten as you lean in to kiss him again.

This time, the kiss was more feverish, more animalistic as your toungues meet. They begin to dance slowly before fignting for dominance. The kiss escalates, whilst you lie back in the sofa, his arms move to support himself on eitherside of your body. Your hads find his hair as one of his hands lightly traces your side.

When the two of you break oncemore, you are both short of breath. Spencer leans over you, panting lightly as he stares at your form, that same awestruck look painting his features once more.

"You're sublime." He whispers before dipping to kiss you softly again.

Spencer's words, his actions, are so careful and kind. He is calculated in a way that shows his appreciation for you rather than a want for your utility. He has worshipped you every moment he has been able to, and clearly has been for a long time. The safety and satisfaction that Spencer lends you in his pressance is made up of pure adoration for you.

Once the pair of you finally find your attention back on the film, you are both lost on the plot. It is now the early hours of the morning, and the subject of bed sharing was never brought up. But, as if it was your most natural state, he simply leads you to his bedroom, where you both fall asleep together once more, mirroring your positions from the hotel. His arm, protecitve around your waist, and you, snuggled tightly into his chest. This was a habit you were beggining to become used to.

As morning light creeped through Spencers heavy cuurtains, you stirred awake. The weight of his arm was still heavy agaisnt your waist, in the night you had turned away from him, ending up with your back perfecttly curved against his front as he snored lightly. It was the type of morning you fantasise about, the sun shining, birds twittering, yet you couldn't ignore the terror that haunted you any longer.

Last night, you had clung to the distraction of your date with Spencer. The night was everything you had dreamt of, the pair of you had talked all night about anything, and everything. But, that raven haunted the back of your mind.

Why would you be a victim? You knew from the team that stalkers psychology wasn't rational, but you had been a practical loner during your time studying. Study sessions with classmates, and maybe a casual conversation here and there, but no significant interactions besides Tyler sprung to mind. Most nights were spent alone, in obscurity in the crowd.

Then, you tried to look at yourself from a clinical perspective. What traits might draw in a gothic obbsessor to you?

A few moments passed whilst you complied this list in your mind, analysing yourself against every gothic story you knew.

A tight squeeze from behind you broke from your thoughts, as Spencer pulled you closer to him. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, and a small smile found its way to your lips. Turning in his hold, your eyes met his drowsy ones, still half lidded. You utter a soft good morning, which he returns by kissing your forehead softly.

"Good morning... Have you been up long?" His voice is laced still with dreams, rough but soft.

"Not long. Just been thinking..." Keeping your voice low, you try not to break the tender moment between the two of you. He hums whilst reaching a hand softly from your side and up to your cheek.

"What about?"

"Just..." Your voice stilted, trying to find the words "Just trying to think why I might be a target... From a Gothic perspective that is... Why would I be chosen for this?"

"Maybe he saw something in you that reminded him of a story he read, or a character he liked. It wont be anything you could control though..." His hand is softly stroking yoour cheek, he is more alert now. Trying to soothe you from any worry that may be awaking with you.

"I think I figured it out..." Voice still soft, barely a whisper. You were afraid to admit it outloud, but you had figured it must be this. Spencer nods for you to continue.

"I think it's because I fit the archetype of the tragic gothic heroine. You know, the damsel in distress?" Pausing to organise your thoughts, Spencer simply waits, still softly stroking your cheek. "Im an orphan... Both my parents died when I was 19, I had to stop school for a while because of that... And now im alone, in a place where I moved without knowing a single soul. My past..." Again, another pause, your voice catches in your throat. Emotion now taking over.

A part of your past you tried not to touch was your parents death. It wasn't as if you hid it, it was just too painful a memory to recall. Tears well in your eyes as you recalln the night you discovered them, lifeless and bloody in your childhood home. Spencer moves to sit up, bringing you up with him. He cradles you in his arms as you lean softly on his legs for support. He rubs soothing circles on your arm as you gather the courage to share.

"When I was 19, I was in my second year of college... I came home for a surprise visit one weekend, and when I got home, it was empty. It was weird, my parents would be sat in the living room watching tv usually at that time, you know? So... So I called out to them. I searched the house when I didn't get a response from the. There was no sign of anything, it was like they had completely dissapered. Then I thought, You know maybe they're both in the storm sellar. My dad. H-He had turned it into a workshop, he liked to make things... He made me a great desk once, I still have it. But... But maybe I thought he wanted to show mum his new creation, so that's why they didn't hear me, you know?" Tears had began to fall, you were becoming frantic now, trying to get the facts of your parents death out before you could shy away. "I was right, they were both down there... I'll never forget the... The smell when I opened the shutters... We lived quite remote, they were quiet people, you know? So no body hearing from them wasn't strange, so when I got there... It had been 3 weeks." A loud sob broke from you and spencer pulled you closer to him, still soothing you.

"Maybe you can carry on later?" His voice softly penetrated through your own terror, but you shook your head, pulling away from him and sitting straight facing him.

"No, no I need to tell you or I never will... They were murdered. They... They had been held at gunpoint, and torutured for days..." you were trembling, but your eyes never broke from spencer's as you rushed your tale "I... The things he did... Then he killed them. He... He made my dad watch as decapitated my mother before doing the same to him. They left them like a display...." Spencer moved to hold you. You were now a wreck of shaking cries and laboured breath as you finally broke down in his arms. The man holding you was in abject shock, things beggining to make sense to him now.

The aversion to the crime scene photos wasn't due to being squeamish, it was because of the reminder of your parents. He would've also put money on the fact that your intrest in the Gothic was actually a subconcious need to find logic in your parents murder. It is after all, a historic genre of metaphorical trauma, the illustrations of mankinds sins.

"Im so sorry, angel..." He hushed you, rocking you slowly and petting your hair. He continued this motion, cardling you like a colicy child, until you finally were composed enough to continue. Eyes red and puffy, skin blotchy and red from the intensity of your cries. Almost afraid to ask, Spencer moved forward with his questions "Did they catch their killer?"

A small no was your only response "Death penalty..." was all you whispered. He took this as encouragment to further his line of questioning "Did you go to therapy?"

"Still do..."

"Where's the rest of your family?"

"It's just me, now..."

"So, how long have you bottled this up? You... You said you aren't very social, you don't date... When was the last time that you- That you let go like that?"

His question caught you off guard, but you couldn't recall the last time you had cried so hard over your parents. The thought of them was one you avoided. It only brought up memories of that storm cellar, the smell, the decay... Maggots unsettled you in a visceral way now, as did flies. You would see them in eveything, but the thought of their coporeal form was one that would rarely linger in your concious, lest the threat of their dismembered bodies haunt your mind once more. Though you loved them deeply, for your own protection you had tried to forget them in another state.

Spencer took your silence as an answer before pulling you up, he began to lead you into the living room before making quick work of getting you a glass of water. Here, you sat with him most of the day whilst he asked questions about your past, your family, your parents. You told him about how you'd grown up on the outskirts of a small town, that you were always a fan of ghost stories and would get in trouble for reading too much in lessons. Spencer was ammused by that, he was totuched to discover that your furniture in your apartment were actually pieces that your father had made, and you had brought with you. Sharing stories of holliday memories with your mother baking, even recalling the negative. Your parents arguments, the nasty things they'd say in their fury. The occasinal military style punishment you had underwent, but that also brought fourth the memories of your parents guilt, how they would show how much they'd truly love you after wards. They were imperfect, but that wasn't a problem.

Sharing wasn't only on you, Spencer shared with you his mothers condition. He told you about how he had to admit her into a home when he was just 18, The troubles he has had trying to navigate becoming the carer of the person who is meant to care for him. Tears, laughter, joy, and strife were shared between you, as you both lazed the day away, in hazy nostalgia of each others past.

In the middle of Spencer's story about his acrobatic exploits as a child, his phone rang. Excusing himself to answer, he stood a few steps away from you, just outside the door of the living room.

Moments later, he returned with a pale face. Curiosity combined with fear as you stood to walk over to him. Gingerly, you called his name.

"What happened?" He was silent for a moment, almost afraid to meet your eyes.

"Another box was delivered to your apartment today..."

Quirking a brow, you felt your heart beat quicken.

"Another raven?"

When Spencer didn't answer, and kept his eyes glued to your feet, you grew even more concerned.

"Spencer?" Your tone was impatient, but quivered still

He took a small deep breath

"It was the head of Tyler Jones."

Part 5 soon...

Tags: @pleasantwitchgarden @xamapolax @kchv