#i might change up the colour of her blouse

[xzho-writes]

i made an alternate/everyday fit for my genshin sona as a quick doodle to de-stress from work 😌

[luveline]

how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee

tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket. 

Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god." 

"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself." 

"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you. 

You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal. 

Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour. 

Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's. 

What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse. 

Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile. 

"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.

Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents." 

"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers." 

"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card." 

You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille. 

Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking." 

From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.

No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing. 

Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious. 

Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.

"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically. 

That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour. 

"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that." 

You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start." 

Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"

The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."

"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe." 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

just a girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible cheating, low self-esteem, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you move in with your sister when your luck turns for the worst.

Characters: Walter Marshall, possible Andy Barber

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

It isn't your proudest moment. You don't have many of those. There is little remarkable about, nothing of note, nothing admirable. You might stand a bit taller than most but it's rarely given as a good thing. 

You never expected much of life. You resigned yourself to living in the shadows. In particular, you knew you would always bet outshone by your sister's light. You can't hate her for it; it's your own shortcoming. Besides, no one can hate Riannon, she's just that nice. 

You are dark smear on the family name. It's why you didn't even think to ask your parents for help. You didn't even ask your sister, she offered, insisted really. You could never deny her and in this instant, you couldn't afford any other option. 

It’s just for a while, you keep telling yourself. You’ll find a new job and a place soon. For now, you’ll just stay out of the way. It isn’t very hard; you take up much more room than your few possessions. 

You keep yourself holed in the guestroom as you settle into your second day. You have your laptop on your thighs as you scroll the job boards. You have the experience but you expect your reference would be any good. You didn’t exactly end on cordial terms. Starting from square one, though the industry isn’t exactly even ground for men and women alike. 

You hunker down to search through the various postings within your purview. Every classification is ticked off, even the years, it’s just that little note about contacting your previous employers that makes you nervous. Well, you at least have to try. 

A knock comes at the door as you edit your cover letter once again. You sit up and close the computer. You slide it aside and get up. You cross the room and crack the door open. You sister smiles from the other side. 

“Am I making too much noise?” You ask as your music plays music from its tiny speaker. 

“No, no, not at all. Um, so you know Andy is out of town for the day so it’s just us,” she rocks, “and there’s a barbecue down the street so... I thought you could get to know the neighbourhood.” 

You look down at her, the offer catching you off guard. You were prepared to spend the whole day hidden away and poring over job listings. Even when you had your own place, you tended to spend most of your own time inside. 

Still, she is doing you a huge favour and it would be rude to say no. You shrug, “okay.” 

“Great, I have some potato salad I'm bringing,” she chirps.  

“Uh,” you look at her blue checkered capris and pristine white blouse, “should I change?” 

“It’s up to you. I'm just going to get packed up. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” 

Her excitement is palpable. She probably expected you to say no. You don’t want to let her down again. You’re tired of that feeling. 

You close the door as she bounces away and you retreat to search through your still unpacked suitcase. Your clothes hang over the sides. You pick out a band shirt and a pair of dark grey jeans. You don’t have any shorts and you know your repertoire of dark colours only draws in the sun’s fury, and like of the vaunted HOA, but you don’t have many options. 

You emerge with a pair of converse in hand and head into the kitchen. Rhiannon snaps the lid onto a big bowl as she beams up at you. You don’t understand how you share the same blood, she’s so different than you. Where you’re tall and gangly, she’s small and dainty; where your dour and reticent, she’s bright and bubbly. Your parents even kidded that you must’ve been switched at the hospital. 

“Ready?” She asks. 

You nod and look down at yourself. 

“If you want to borrow a skirt or something, it’s pretty hot out.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You don’t take her offer as any comment on your choice, only genuine concern. If it was your mom, you would know it was more than that. To be fair, your mother is very direct with her critiques. Besides, even if her clothes would fit you, you don’t want to risk ruining any of her things. 

“Alrighty, well, Marge will kill me if I’m late again,” she sings and sweeps around with the bowl. “It’ll be nice to get out, huh?” 

“Mhmm,” you grumble and follow her down the hall to the front door. 

She steps into her wedged sandals as you sit to pull on your converse and lace them up. You stand and get the door for her as she prances towards it. She thanks you and you trail her out. The sun hits you like fire. It’s so hot, though you think some of the heat comes from your own self-consciousness. 

As you catch up to your sister at the bottom of the steps, you slow down to keep from outpacing her shorter legs. Even with her platformed soles, she’s still ahead shorter than you. You turn down the sidewalk as you shy away from the strange faces headed in the same direction. 

“You want me to carry that?” You offer. 

“Hey, I might be small but I can handle a salad,” she chirps. 

“I know, I wasn’t--” 

“I’m teasing. It’s fine, I got it,” she assures you as she hugs the bowl to her stomach, “I just want you to have a good day. Don’t think about everything else, okay?” 

“Mm, okay,” you keep your head down as you slink next to her jouncing steps, “sorry, I'll try not to be too grim.” 

“Whatever, you’re awesome,” she nudges you with her elbow, “you just be yourself and I know you’ll find some good friends around here.” 

You try to smile but it hurts. She always sees the best in others, even when it’s not there. You keep pace with her and turn up another curated lawn. The walk is perfectly laid and the blossom tree sways overhead. 

Rhiannon is welcomed through the open gate by one of those blonde women she has her book club with and you shuffle in with your hands in your pockets. You feel the woman’s harsh gaze and peek up. She looks at you the same way your mother does. Her name is Marge and her friend is Callie and there are dozens of the Stepford-like figures posted throughout the yard. 

“Come, let’s put your salad out,” Marge insists. 

Rhiannon looks at you and you chew your cheek, “go, I'll be fine.” 

She looks reluctant but you’re already walking away. You ignore the smell of sausage and beef rising from the barbeque and the splash and laughter of children from the pool. You aren’t going to find any friends here. That much is clear. Housewives and little kids, you don’t really fit the bill. 

You find your way to the far end of the lawn and stand by a tree you might just blend into. Or maybe you might bury yourself in the rose bushes. You pull your hands from your pockets and hook your fingers into your belt loops, swaying as you watch a bumble bee hover over the grass. 

“Foo Fighters, huh?” A low drawl brings your head up as a man approaches with a beer bottle in hand. 

“Um, yeah,” you look down at your shirt, tugging on the hem. 

“You go to a show?” He asks as he stops near you, drinking from the bottle as he waits for your answer. 

“Never been to one,” you cross your arms, “but I listen to them.” 

“Ah, yeah, well, they put on a hell of a show,” he wiggles the bottle as he talks, “lot more fun than these things.” 

You look up the yard towards the mingling of voices and sound. Despite your efforts to hide in a corner, you must have stuck out like a sore thumb. Shoot, maybe he thinks you’re trespassing. 

“I came with my sister,” you point and shift towards the party, “sorry, um, Rhiannon. I didn’t... I was just looking at the roses.” 

“Not my party,” he scoffs, “I don’t care.” 

“Oh,” you blink and look at him. He's about your height, dark curly hair, and vibrant blue eyes. His dark beard is thick and stubble prickles along his neck. He wears a plain white shirt and jeans; the bare minimum. “Right, er, well...” 

“Not a bad idea, hiding behind a tree,” he remarks, “but you're missing the key ingredient.” 

He stops and stares, crooking a brow as if you should know what he means. 

“Alcohol,” he raises his bottle, “they got a keg even. Probably the only good part about these bull—these things.” 

“I don’t drink,” you mutter, “but thanks.” 

You put your head down and stare at the grass around his shoes. You don’t know why he’s bothering you if it isn’t to make you leave. Obviously, you don’t belong. 

“Never too late to start,” he snorts and stays as he is. 

You don’t know how to make him leave you alone so you say nothing. The bee dips into a tulip’s mouth and you turn to watch it. Maybe he’ll take your silence as a hint. 

[angie-words]

Rivals Interview & Photoshoot

CW for mentions of sex, nudity

Highlights from the article (abridged! Full article by Caitlin Moran here):

Jilly Cooper’s raunchy Rivals: ‘You will see a lot of willies’

It’s taken 36 years, but finally Jilly Cooper’s legendary bonkbuster Rivals is on TV. Caitlin Moran — who was such a fan, she changed her name to one of the book’s characters — meets the author and stars on set and asks: how was it for you?

Guess where I am.

Oh my gosh — I am in RUTSHIRE.

If you own one of the multimillion copies sold of Jilly Cooper’s infamous Rutshire Chronicles books, you will a) be as excited as me, and b) know exactly where I am.

Yes, I am standing in front of a beautiful, honey-coloured mansion.

Yes, it is a beautiful summer’s day.

Yes, the herbaceous borders are magnificent.

Yes, there are adorable dogs milling around.

Yes, there are champagne bottles strewn hither and yon.

And yes, everyone is dressed in alternately fabulous, or ridiculous, Eighties outfits, with gigantic hair.

The ladies have electric-blue eyeshadow and golden, heaving bosoms.

The men, meanwhile, have tanned legs, huge Rolexes — and, in many instances, their gigantic hair manifests lower down: in moustaches like that of Tom Selleck.

And yes, of course, there is drama. David Tennant — wearing a lavish, gold, silken man-blouse and sucking on a cigar — is furious. He is savaging a roomful of party people, all looking stricken — and all, incongruously, wearing swimwear.

“How the f*** has this happened?” Tennant screams, as all the tits and legs fidget, gaudy piña coladas abandoned. “Get the f*** out there and sort this out! And why are you all wearing bikinis?”

Tennant storms from the room, apoplectic with rage — and then sees me.

“Oh, hello, darling,” he says, all sweetness and light.

“CUT!” the director calls.

Today, David Tennant isn’t, of course, David Tennant. He’s Tony Baddingham, the infamous, nominative-determinist baddie of Jilly Cooper’s Rivals.

“So, is this fun?” I ask him.

The last time I saw him on set, he was being the Doctor in Doctor Who, in a floor-length coat, trying to save the world from being exploded. Again. In the rain. In Wales. At 1am.

“Oh yes,” Tennant says. “I mean, look at my blouse. It’s like my aunt’s! Actually, I think it might be hers — it closes right to left. Don’t men’s buttons close left to right? Am I wearing,” he asks the room at large, “a woman’s blouse?”

“We need to go again, David,” the director says.

“Back in a tick,” Tennant says, running back on set, sucking on his cigar. Getting ready to be really evil, and Eighties, again.

-----

When it comes to the atmosphere on set, I later talk to David Tennant about this subject.

“Yes — there was a lot of due diligence about only having … joyful people on set. Crew and cast,” Tennant says, carefully.

(Dominic) Treadwell-Collins - executive producer - is more forthright.

“We had a very strict ‘no arseholes’ policy,” he says.

-----

Your mother was a Jilly Cooper fan? And, therefore, presumably … a Rupert Campbell-Black fan?

“My mum, you know … blushed when I told her [I’d got the role],” (Alex) Hassell admits. “A lot of women blushed when I told them.”

I’m interviewing Hassell, 44, and Tennant, 53, together. As a former Doctor, Tennant has, of course, a lot of experience in playing a role women find attractive.

“Once you’ve made [Rupert Campbell-Black] flesh, I think a lot of people are going to find it difficult to interact with you, Alex,” he says, helpfully.

It seems Hassell is aware of this.

“Yes,” he says. “One friend, when I told her, said, ‘Oh, that’s a bean-flicker role!’ I said, ‘Ah, I see.’ ”

“Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone come up to me and say, ‘I’ve masturbated thinking about you,’ ” Tennant says, thoughtfully.

“David!” Hassell exclaims, hurt. “When we met, that’s the first thing I said.”

-----

“Tony’s from a lower class, while Rupert was born with an entire silver cutlery canteen in his mouth,” Tennant says. “So whatever Tony does, he never has that class advantage. Tony needs to taste the blood of his betters in his mouth to make him feel better. Rupert’s blood.”

“And while Rupert is, in many ways, a shit,” Hassell says, thoughtfully, “he’s not a bad man, like Tony. Tony is jealous of Rupert. He wants his house, his women, his life.”

Accordingly, this suit-based class war plays out as Campbell-Black tries to take over Baddingham’s TV station — and the backstabbing, shenanigans, shagging and skulduggery commence.

-----

The tennis court at Cooper’s house is the setting for one of her most iconic scenes — where Campbell-Black first meets his love interest, Taggie, while he’s playing naked tennis. He is adjudged to have lost a match point because something is over the line. Oh, why am I being so coy? This is Jilly Cooper. It’s his penis. His massive penis is judged to be over the line. A note to diehard fans: this scene is shot exactly as written. You will see a lot of willies.

“We’ve been equal opportunities in our nudity,” Treadwell-Collins says. “There’s a willy for every pair of tits.”

“That was my great disappointment over the TV show,” Cooper sighs. “The tennis court is a terrible mess — no one’s played on it for 20 years — and I thought [Disney] might be darlings and build me a new one.”

She looks around, hopefully.

“Do you think anyone here has some booze?” she asks. “It is the afternoon.”

Cooper has been an invaluable muse to everyone on set while filming. In one scene, she handed over an urgent note that read, “Rupert would never say ‘spouse’ — that’s very lower-middle [class]. He would say ‘wife’.”

She argued for particularly Cooperesque jokes and puns to stay in, and was firm that the whole “First of May” tradition remain.

“Oh, yes,” she says, looking delighted, and then quotes herself. “ ‘First of May, first of May — outdoor f***ing starts today. But if as usual it do rain, we f*** off indoors again.’ ”

This ribald rhyme kicks off a massive shagging montage, involving the entire cast. And all outdoors, of course.

-----

I can’t tell you what fun it is interviewing all the Rivals people. Because of the show, everyone talks about their memories of the Eighties (David Tennant: “No, my Eighties weren’t like a Jilly Cooper book — I was at school in Paisley with my glasses held together with sticky tape, and a very unappealing haircut”), and smoking (Hassell: “Everyone smoked everywhere, didn’t they? Even on planes. They’d draw across that little … health curtain, and everyone smoked behind it”), and how hard it was to leave Cooper’s world when shooting finished (Hassell: “No one was looking at me like I’m the most sexy man on the planet any more. It was tough.”)

-----

In the event, (Aidan) Turner, 41, is an absolute hoot — particularly on the subject of the massive moustache he sports on the show. It is a magnificent specimen of upper-lip pelt. It looks like a vole fell asleep under his nose.

It looks like the one Ned Flanders has on The Simpsons, I tell him.

Turner gives a huge, barking laugh.

“Ned Flanders? I mean, I was thinking more … Irish stag? Super-masculine?”

He starts giggling again.

Turner’s relaxed stance towards his sex god-dom comes with an interestingly meta twist. In Rivals, one of Baddingham’s TV shows is called Four Men Went to Mow — where sexy farmers, sexily stripped to the waist, carry out sexy agricultural duties.

Turner, of course, infamously stripped to the waist a few times in Poldark, for that scything scene or lying in bed or emerging from the sea. In a pleasingly postmodern moment, one scene sees Turner rail against Four Men Went to Mow — raging, almost camply, “TV can’t just be men taking their tops off!”

Rivals is on Disney+ from October 18

[cuffmeinblack]

Tease

Leander Prewett x f!reader (she/her)

Tags: explicit | dry humping | public sexual activity | shame kink

1.8k words

ao3 link

Summary: Leander finds himself with a beautiful girl on his lap, and a big problem.

A/n: Did anyone ask for this? No. Consider this an offering for Kinktober since I have no time to actually do it properly. I wasn't even sure how to tag this. Is there a word for coming in your pants? You get the idea.

The party was already in full swing as the common room around Leander thrummed with energy, excited babble and raucous cheers. Another Quidditch victory secured, and now he got to bathe in the glory for a few hours before the harsh reality of exam season hit in the morning. He sat down on an armchair as his teammates filled the others, tired but glowing with pride as Garreth fetched some drinks. Leander had barely time to get comfortable before an influx of his housemates from the pitch, all cheering and eager to give the team as many handshakes possible. Including her.

They'd been friends for years, but something had changed. Perhaps it was simply a matter of them both maturing, but Leander found himself watching her more often these days. Sometimes she'd catch him staring, offering him a warm smile in return. She always looked good, but the way her hair had that softly tousled look after standing in the windy stands gave her a distinctly sexy look—like she’d just been ravaged in bed. Leander had had many such fantasies involving her, and he was busy remembering one particularly delicious one when she approached him. 

“Congrats, Lee. You did so well out there,” she said earnestly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Thanks. Team effort though, you know,” he replied.

She was about to reply, until Garreth returned levitating around a dozen bottles and mugs, people all around him ducking out of the way.

“Drinks are here! Are you joining us?” he directed towards the gorgeous girl now standing far too close to Leander as she turned to reply.

“I’d love to.”

“Brilliant! Oh, there’s no seats. Leander, get off the chair and let the lady sit, will you?” Garreth said.

Leander was almost on his feet before she placed a small palm against his chest and pushed him back down. He almost stumbled under the gentle direction, but only because he’d been so blindsided by her touch.

"That's fine, I'll sit on Lee's lap. You don't mind, do you?" her innocent question still made his cheeks flush as Leander nodded.

"Sure, yeah…"

She perched her (perfectly round, supple) backside on his thighs, as elegantly as a lady might side straddle a horse. Leander almost breathed a sigh of relief that she was far enough away to remain out of his grasp. Garreth handed her two drinks and she passed one back to him, raising the glass in a toast before pressing it to her (alluringly plump) lips. The beer was cold and delicious, and definitely stronger than he'd remembered.

"Garreth, what's in this?"

"Eh? Oh, I chucked a bit of whiskey in," the faraway voice replied.

Of course he did, and it had gone straight to Leander's head. Judging by the flush of colour up her neck, he'd say the same about the girl on his lap. She did flush so prettily; the softest shade of pink that crept from underneath her blouse, gently spreading to her nape. Leander tried hard not to let his gaze linger on that area, even when her head tilted and hair swept to one side to expose her glowing skin. He blinked and licked his lips. Surely, that had been deliberate. One doesn't usually stroke their fingers down their neck when merely brushing their hair out of the way…

Leander drank deeply, the cold beer and burning whiskey at odds with each other as it slid down his throat. His gulps grew larger the closer she inched back on his thighs until there was simply no room for him and his glass. She was busy talking to Nellie, paying him no mind, her arms gesticulating wildly and body rocking, twisting and shuffling and great Merlin she was pressed into his crotch. Her gorgeous, round cheeks pressed against his manhood—enveloped in her softness, it took all his concentration and willing for his cock not to swell.

"Lee, didn't you say Natty was coming?"

"Er, what?"

"To Hogsmeade next week. Isn't Natty coming?"

She twisted slightly to face him, causing the most unbearable friction in his trousers. He looked up at her (why did he do that??) and locked onto those glazed eyes and parted lips that seemed to beckon him. Fuck, that had done it. His blood had rushed south and there was nothing he could do but let his cock swell and endure the embarrassment as she leapt from his lap in disgust. 

But it didn't come. 

"Erm, yeah, that's what she said," he replied weakly.

She smiled and returned to the conversation as Leander sat in disbelief with a raging boner. Surely she could feel it. Worse still, his hands were now utterly useless by his side, with no drink to distract him they twitched with desire to grab and hold every inch of flesh he couldn't see or already feel. He wanted nothing more than to pull her harder on top of him, grind his hips against her to rid himself of this insufferable aching tension. The thought only made his cock throb with want, his drink and lust-addled brain finally moving his arms to have his hands rest on her hips, long fingers gripping the soft flesh that begged to be grabbed as he fucked her senseless.

He took a deep breath, ridding himself of the thoughts as he searched frantically for a distraction. Out of the corner of his eye, Leander noticed that Amit had gotten shakily to his legs and clutched his stomach, before stumbling off in the direction of the bathroom to raucous applause. 

"First one down! Thakkar's such a lightweight!" Garreth laughed.

He laughed despite his current predicament, and so did she—a great belly laugh that sent vibrations through her body. He almost fucking moaned as his head dropped forward against her back, fingers digging into her hips that little bit tighter. Had his face not been pressed against the back of her ribcage, he might not have noticed the hitch in her breath. Was that a good gasp or a bad gasp? He was mulling over the implications when she undeniably, absolutely intentionally rolled her hips against him. Slow, deliberate, the warmth of her heat practically radiating through her skirt as she pressed against his aching cock.

The air was stifling, his skin burning and head swimming. Gods, the fabric of his trousers was fit to burst its seams if she carried on like this. He might just look like a drunken fool slumped against her back, and for that he was thankful. The truth was much worse. His cock was leaking precum into his trousers, and all he could do was sit there and hope beyond all hope that she didn't move from his lap. That would be quite the sight if she did.

Well, he was shit out of luck.

His heart almost burst from his ribcage when the pressure relieved on his legs and she leaned forward. His brain scrambled for an excuse for her to stay, half tempted to pull her back onto him. His reactions dulled by alcohol, he simply sat there and spluttered, but she didn’t vacate her position entirely, only lifting off the bulge in his trousers slightly to procure yet more drinks. Leander had to admit this angle was fantastic. Back arched and shapely behind hovering tantalisingly above him, she looked ripe for the taking. If only he had the nerve to bend her over the side table beside him and have his way with her—that would certainly solve his problem.

“Want a shot?” her sweet and sultry voice came from over her shoulder.

She settled back into his lap, shuffling far too slowly to get comfortable again. Leander clenched his jaw and looked up at her, gawping at the way she bit her lip so tantalisingly. There was no way this was not wholly intentional, and the glint in her eyes told him she wasn’t done with him yet. She passed him back a shot that he didn’t particularly want and definitely didn’t need, but he threw down his neck anyway. Maybe dulling his senses would help his situation.

“Thanks,”  he muttered.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered.

"Why are you…"

His question was interrupted with another shuffle of her body, miniscule movements back and forth that rubbed him just right. 

Fucking hell.

"That's…not helping," he gasped.

"I think it is."

If her intention was to finish him, then yes, she was helping him along the way quite nicely indeed.

"Please…"

"Lee, you're such a naughty boy."

Then she giggled. She fucking giggled whilst rubbing herself against his cock in the middle of the common room, surrounded by their classmates. He should have been mortified, terrified—he supposed he was, but the fact of the matter was he’d never been more aroused in his life. The absolutely unbearable tension, the fear, the shame—all of it a heady concoction ten times stronger than the whiskey coursing through his veins. That last shot had burned his throat and was only now working its way to his head, which he laid again on her back.

She was chatting away again, the whiskey clearly having a complete opposite effect on her as she bounced enthusiastically against his crotch. Every little laugh, clap and excited wiggle sent him closer to the edge, the pathetic realisation that he was about to explode into his Quidditch trousers now a full-blown conclusion. His arms encircled her waist, breathing heavily against her back, hair wafting a delicious floral scent into his nostrils.

“He’s so drunk,” a voice who might have been Nellie said.

“He is, bless him. I think he’s falling asleep on my back,” the vixen on his lap replied.

The girls giggled and by the time they’d said their goodbyes and she’d continued her slow torturous teasing, Leander’s cock was twitching against her heat, ready to burst. Merlin, she was so fucking warm and soft…

“Lee?” she whispered over her shoulder.

“Y-yeah?” he managed to gasp, not daring to look up.

“You should feel how wet I am.”

Leander whimpered and gripped her waist tight as he came, her words finally pushing him over the edge he’d been teetering on for what felt like hours. He could feel her fingers digging into his thighs, hear the pounding of her heart and heaviness of her breath as he filled his trousers and made an awful mess of her, besides. There was no escaping the sheer amount of his release now saturating the fabric of their clothes. He bit down on his lip hard to stop himself from moaning whilst his orgasm pulsed, blood rushing away from his already oxygen-starved brain. He was so relieved that he forgot to be mortified for a few blissful seconds.

"I'm sorry…"

"Are you? I'm not," she replied, shuffling around to sit sideways on his lap.

There was her face in all its flushed glory, pressed against his own, their noses brushing, her lips ghosting over his. She was breathing almost as heavily as himself, chest rising and falling in his periphery. And then she kissed him for the whole room to see. Not tentatively, but fiercely, hungrily. Her hands were in his hair and his were already underneath her shirt despite the calls for them to 'get a room'. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

[turneradora]

Here is the written transcription of the new article of The Times magazine.

Published today on September 14th.

Thanks to Emma Jones 🙏👍🌺

Thanks to IsaDemrio for her edit

INTERVIEW with CAITLIN MORAN

Jilly Cooper’s raunchy Rivals: ‘You will see a lot of willies’

It’s taken 36 years, but finally Jilly Cooper’s legendary bonkbuster Rivals is on TV. Caitlin Moran — who was such a fan, she changed her name to one of the book’s characters — meets the author and stars on set and asks: how was it for you?

Guess where I am.

Oh my gosh — I am in RUTSHIRE.

If you own one of the multimillion copies sold of Jilly Cooper’s infamous Rutshire Chronicles books, you will a) be as excited as me, and b) know exactly where I am.

Yes, I am standing in front of a beautiful, honey-coloured mansion.

Yes, it is a beautiful summer’s day.

Yes, the herbaceous borders are magnificent.

Yes, there are adorable dogs milling around.

Yes, there are champagne bottles strewn hither and yon.

And yes, everyone is dressed in alternately fabulous, or ridiculous, Eighties outfits, with gigantic hair.

The ladies have electric-blue eyeshadow and golden, heaving bosoms.

The men, meanwhile, have tanned legs, huge Rolexes — and, in many instances, their gigantic hair manifests lower down: in moustaches like that of Tom Selleck.

And yes, of course, there is drama. David Tennant — wearing a lavish, gold, silken man-blouse and sucking on a cigar — is furious. He is savaging a roomful of party people, all looking stricken — and all, incongruously, wearing swimwear.

“How the f*** has this happened?” Tennant screams, as all the tits and legs fidget, gaudy piña coladas abandoned. “Get the f*** out there and sort this out! And why are you all wearing bikinis?”

Tennant storms from the room, apoplectic with rage — and then sees me.

“Oh, hello, darling,” he says, all sweetness and light.

“CUT!” the director calls.

Today, David Tennant isn’t, of course, David Tennant. He’s Tony Baddingham, the infamous, nominative-determinist baddie of Jilly Cooper’s Rivals.

“So, is this fun?” I ask him.

The last time I saw him on set, he was being the Doctor in Doctor Who, in a floor-length coat, trying to save the world from being exploded. Again. In the rain. In Wales. At 1am.

“Oh yes,” Tennant says. “I mean, look at my blouse. It’s like my aunt’s! Actually, I think it might be hers — it closes right to left. Don’t men’s buttons close left to right? Am I wearing,” he asks the room at large, “a woman’s blouse?”

“We need to go again, David,” the director says.

“Back in a tick,” Tennant says, running back on set, sucking on his cigar. Getting ready to be really evil, and Eighties, again.

Going back — to Rutshire.

Since Riders, the first volume of the Rutshire Chronicles, was published in 1985 — soaring straight to the top of the charts and eventually selling more than one million copies — Jilly Cooper has been the unassailable queen of the English bonkbuster.

While Shirley Conran’s Lace and Jackie Collins’ Hollywood Wives might have rivalled Cooper for sales, Cooper’s books are particularly well thumbed and beloved by their devotees because, underneath all the shagging and scandal, there’s something incredibly English and wholesome about them. Yes, there are villains, and orgies, and boardroom shenanigans — but just as much space is taken up by descriptions of scrumptious shepherd’s pies, heavenly rose gardens, darling horses and adorable dogs. And yes, the words used are “scrumptious”, “heavenly”, “darling” and “adorable” — the Cooper lexicon is heavy on delighted adjectives.

I meet countless people — actually, let’s be honest here: women; it’s women who are Cooper fans — who read these books as teenagers and had their lives changed by them. If you were in some boring suburb, or council house, reading about these relatably flawed English characters — all smoking; getting “tight” during long, boozy lunches; worrying about sweat patches on their cashmere dresses; gossiping; fighting their way through the class system; decorating beautiful houses; falling in love; and making endless puns and jokes — it all seemed a far more appealing, and possibly achievable, depiction of adulthood than the rather grim ones being peddled by Roth, Updike or Amis.

There are now at least two generations of women who, technically, emotionally, grew up not in Wolverhampton or Glasgow — but Rutshire.

This is why, in many ways, it seems strange it’s taken so long for the Rutshire Chronicles to make it to TV. Yes, there was a made-for-TV movie adaptation of Riders, back in 1993 — but Cooper fans don’t talk about that. At the time, “The acting appears to be from a Gold Blend advert,” was the kindest review.

No, it has taken until 2024 for someone to take on the task, drum up an incredible cast — David Tennant, Alex Hassell, Aidan Turner, Danny Dyer, Katherine Parkinson, Emily Atack — and persuade Disney, of all people, to cough up for all the mansions, helicopters, dogs, champagne and shoulder pads necessary to bring Dame Jilly Cooper’s beloved, fun, shagging Rutshire to life. A place as mythic to the British imagination as Narnia, the Hundred Acre Wood or the Brontës’ moors — but with, obviously, a lot more banging.

“Honestly, people thought I was mad,” says Dominic Treadwell-Collins, executive producer of the show. “I’ve been working on this for ten years. No, more — since the year 2000. I’d been a fan of Jilly since I was 20 — and when I got into TV, whenever I was in a meeting I’d say, ‘I want to do Jilly Cooper. I have to get these books on TV.’ And people would just slap their thighs and laugh.”

Treadwell-Collins’ previous projects include a five-year stint on EastEnders — “When we were getting 20 million viewers for the live shows” — and the multi-Bafta-winning A Very English Scandal, directed by Stephen Frears and starring Hugh Grant and Ben Whishaw.

But now, he still looks puzzled at the mocking reaction Jilly Cooper caused. “I could never understand it. I genuinely think Jilly Cooper is the Jane Austen of our times. These are the books people will study, in the future, when they want to understand what the Eighties were like. Jilly comes across as fluffy and lovely — but she’s got a steely eye when it comes to the sexism, the homophobia, the racism, class. You think it’s all lavish and flirty — and it is — but then, on every third page, she’ll come and kick you in the shins. But every time I pitched it, people would be like, ‘Jilly Cooper? She’s just … a bit naff?’ And it was always men who said it. But I bet if they’d asked their wives, they would say, ‘I LOVE HER! MAKE IT NOW!’ ”

It does seem there is a continual, notable blindness to female audiences. It reminds me of all the fuss around Bridgerton when it first aired. Light romantic fiction — your Mills & Boon, your original Bridgerton books — sells more than any other genre. It sells in tens of millions. But because women buy those books, it’s … ignored. Until, that is, US TV behemoth Shonda Rhimes unexpectedly adapted Bridgerton — and it instantly became Netflix’s biggest hit to that point.

Suddenly, “books read by women” were revealed to be potential TV goldmines.

“Yes,” Treadwell-Collins says. “We are unashamed in wanting to make female viewers happy with this. We want this to become everyone’s favourite show. For it not to be a dirty secret any more that you love Jilly Cooper. We want people running down the street wearing ‘I LOVE JILLY COOPER’ T-shirts. It’s … a rich treat.”

It certainly is a rich treat. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a set where it’s so obvious that the budget is huge.

“We were the last show commissioned in the streaming gold rush,” Treadwell-Collins had said, earlier. “Budgets are very different now.”

There is an emotional support dog on set — of course there is. An ice-cream van turns up at 2pm — burly crew members walk around the grounds eating tiny pink strawberry cones, looking delighted. And, for reasons I never fully discover, someone has a ferret on a lead.

As I wander around the gigantic mansion, I bump into various cast members, who all seem overjoyed to be there.

Claire Rushbrook, who plays Monica Baddingham — Tony Baddingham’s posh, tolerant wife — is in the orangery, having her make-up done, while eating a scone.

“I mean, we are doing acting,” she says. “I want to make that clear. But … it is also enormous fun.”

The comedian and actress Emily Atack — playing the irrepressibly titty Sarah Stratton — is lounging on a love seat, in an orange kimono, stroking the emotional support dog. She has spent most of this day wearing nothing but a bikini.

“I keep chatting to people, like, ‘Hey, Dan, how’s the kids?’ — and then realising my tits are out,” she says.

Nafessa Williams, who plays Cameron Cook, and is, as she says, “the only American on set”, describes everyone as “so welcoming” — but has struggled with small cultural differences.

“My cast mates would say, ‘I’m going to the loo,’ and I was like, “What does that even mean?’ I had to be told the loo is the restroom — so it was a whole new world for me.”

When it comes to the atmosphere on set, I later talk to David Tennant about this subject.

“Yes — there was a lot of due diligence about only having … joyful people on set. Crew and cast,” Tennant says, carefully.

Treadwell-Collins is more forthright.

“We had a very strict ‘no arseholes’ policy,” he says. “We did a lot of research. On EastEnders, some of [the cast] were really unpleasant; rotten apples who ruined it. For Rivals, we talked to producers and agents off the record, and if they said, ‘He’s a marvellous actor — but also a wanker,’ or, ‘He’ll be amazing, but he did beat up a girlfriend ten years ago,’ we just didn’t cast them. Lots of people [in television] will put up with it. We were like, ‘Life’s too short.’ Also, if you’ve got David Tennant on the call sheet, he’s such a genuinely lovely, kind, decent man — and that flows down through everyone else.”

However, while Tennant might be No 1 on the call sheet, Rivals is not his show. For there is one character who is the ultimate pivot of the Rutshire Chronicles: Rupert Campbell-Black.

Rupert Campbell-Black is a hot, posh bastard who, due to a three-book-long redemptive arc, is also one of womankind’s most fancied fictional creations.

Infamously, he was “inspired” by Queen Camilla’s ex-husband, Andrew Parker-Bowles.

Unlike Andrew, however, there are whole pages on Mumsnet dedicated to middle-aged women describing their hottest Rupert Campbell-Black sexual fantasies. I cannot overstate what a sex god he is held to be by Jilly Cooper fans. “RCB”, as he’s referred to, is … vaginally totemic to millions of women.

After a global search — auditions were held from America to Australia — Alex Hassell, previously seen as Metatron in His Dark Materials, was finally cast in this iconic role. When I talk to him, the main thing I want to discuss with him is how … feverishly his turn will be received.

Are you aware of Rupert’s … lubricious gravity within the Cooper fandom?

“I didn’t read the books as a teenager,” Hassell says, cheerfully. “They were on the top shelf in my mum and dad’s study, and I always wondered what they were.”

Your mother was a Jilly Cooper fan? And, therefore, presumably … a Rupert Campbell-Black fan?

“My mum, you know … blushed when I told her [I’d got the role],” Hassell admits. “A lot of women blushed when I told them.”

I’m interviewing Hassell, 44, and Tennant, 53, together. As a former Doctor, Tennant has, of course, a lot of experience in playing a role women find attractive.

“Once you’ve made [Rupert Campbell-Black] flesh, I think a lot of people are going to find it difficult to interact with you, Alex,” he says, helpfully.

It seems Hassell is aware of this.

“Yes,” he says. “One friend, when I told her, said, ‘Oh, that’s a bean-flicker role!’ I said, ‘Ah, I see.’ ”

“Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone come up to me and say, ‘I’ve masturbated thinking about you,’ ” Tennant says, thoughtfully.

“David!” Hassell exclaims, hurt. “When we met, that’s the first thing I said.”

The main plot of Rivals revolves around the, well, rivalry between Tony Baddingham and Rupert Campbell-Black. When young, Baddingham was bullied by Campbell-Black at boarding school. Now a powerful TV CEO — running the Rutshire local TV franchise — Baddingham still loathes Campbell-Black. Why?

“Tony’s from a lower class, while Rupert was born with an entire silver cutlery canteen in his mouth,” Tennant says. “So whatever Tony does, he never has that class advantage. Tony needs to taste the blood of his betters in his mouth to make him feel better. Rupert’s blood.”

“And while Rupert is, in many ways, a shit,” Hassell says, thoughtfully, “he’s not a bad man, like Tony. Tony is jealous of Rupert. He wants his house, his women, his life.”

Accordingly, this suit-based class war plays out as Campbell-Black tries to take over Baddingham’s TV station — and the backstabbing, shenanigans, shagging and skulduggery commence. Basically, imagine Dallas — but if, instead of oil, everyone was fighting to take over Anglia Television. Getting really angry over who has the rights to Sale of the Century.

I tell you what, though — why am I describing all this? The best person to talk about the plot of Rivals is the woman who came up with it: Jilly Cooper. And — here she is!

Cooper’s arrival on the set of Rivals is like a cross between a visit from royalty and the advent of an adorable, massive-haired, 87-year-old Bacchus. Everyone is awaiting her presence.

“Is there any booze?” comes her voice, from the hallway, as she approaches.

She is still being told, with polite sadness, that there is no booze as she comes into the room. It’s 1.30pm.

“They don’t have any booze here,” she relays to me, regretfully, as she sits down. “I asked before, but — no luck. I smuggled some in last time, and spilled it all over me — I’m terribly clumsy.”

Cooper is the living embodiment of the Rutshire world she created. In terms of being “on brand”, Jilly Cooper turning up in a mansion, looking for lunchtime champagne, is CS Lewis turning up with a talking beaver, gossiping about an “exciting wardrobe” he’s just found.

Everyone here has been to a “Jilly Party” — regular and seemingly full-on occurrences, held at the house she’s lived in since the Seventies.

“You just leave absolutely pissed,” says one, who doesn’t want to be named. “They have to ladle you into a taxi.”

“Oh, the last one was just a little party,” Cooper says.

What’s a little party?

“Seventy, seventy-five people?” Cooper says. “And then friends from the village, obviously. Andrew Parker-Bowles. Richard Madeley and his wife. Nicky Haslam. Lisa Maxwell. Stanley Tucci — who was heavenly.”

Please tell me the party was exactly like the ones in the books.

“Well, yes. We had kir royale, Pimm’s, wines. Gins.”

Note: gins multiple.

“Vol-au-vents, melon and Parma ham, smoked salmon on blinis. Brandy snaps with Chantilly cream. Everyone got awfully tight. I led them around the infamous tennis court.”

The tennis court at Cooper’s house is the setting for one of her most iconic scenes — where Campbell-Black first meets his love interest, Taggie, while he’s playing naked tennis. He is adjudged to have lost a match point because something is over the line. Oh, why am I being so coy? This is Jilly Cooper. It’s his penis. His massive penis is judged to be over the line. A note to diehard fans: this scene is shot exactly as written. You will see a lot of willies.

“We’ve been equal opportunities in our nudity,” Treadwell-Collins says. “There’s a willy for every pair of tits.”

“That was my great disappointment over the TV show,” Cooper sighs. “The tennis court is a terrible mess — no one’s played on it for 20 years — and I thought [Disney] might be darlings and build me a new one.”

She looks around, hopefully.

“Do you think anyone here has some booze?” she asks. “It is the afternoon.”

Cooper has been an invaluable muse to everyone on set while filming. In one scene, she handed over an urgent note that read, “Rupert would never say ‘spouse’ — that’s very lower-middle [class]. He would say ‘wife’.”

She argued for particularly Cooperesque jokes and puns to stay in, and was firm that the whole “First of May” tradition remain.

“Oh, yes,” she says, looking delighted, and then quotes herself. “ ‘First of May, first of May — outdoor f***ing starts today. But if as usual it do rain, we f*** off indoors again.’ ”

This ribald rhyme kicks off a massive shagging montage, involving the entire cast. And all outdoors, of course.

But, as any English person knows, outdoor sex is a perilous sport. Perhaps the emotional centrepiece of Rivals is the agonisingly drawn-out attraction between Freddie (Danny Dyer) and Lizzie (Katherine Parkinson), both married to awful people, but who ache for each other in a way that is guaranteed to bring tears to the viewers’ eyes. A scene where they bunk into the first-class carriage of a train to smoke fags and share fruitcake, while timidly flirting with each other, is the Brief Encounter of our time.

And, without wanting to chuck in too many spoilers, when they finally requite their love for each other, it’s one of the all-time great sex scenes. Danny Dyer, it turns out, is exquisite, adorable leading-man material, while Katherine Parkinson “is the new Olivia Colman”, Treadwell-Collins says, firmly. “She will be garlanded with Baftas and Oscars. Honestly. And she wanted to do the sex scene,” he adds. “She was like, ‘I really want to show my boobs. I’m in my mid-forties and they look good.’ In that scene, you can see she’s crying — really crying, with happiness — and it makes you cry too. She looks like a f***ing queen.”

On set, however, the sex scene was not without its problems. Because it was “outdoor f***ing”, in a flower meadow.

“But it was at the height of tick season,” Treadwell-Collins recalls, with a shudder. “Not safe to be in the grass. We didn’t want to get a tick on Danny Dyer’s willy! In the end, we had to get in a load of moss for them to lie on. It’s the first time, to my knowledge, that safe sex has involved moss.”

I can’t tell you what fun it is interviewing all the Rivals people. Because of the show, everyone talks about their memories of the Eighties (David Tennant: “No, my Eighties weren’t like a Jilly Cooper book — I was at school in Paisley with my glasses held together with sticky tape, and a very unappealing haircut”), and smoking (Hassell: “Everyone smoked everywhere, didn’t they? Even on planes. They’d draw across that little … health curtain, and everyone smoked behind it”), and how hard it was to leave Cooper’s world when shooting finished (Hassell: “No one was looking at me like I’m the most sexy man on the planet any more. It was tough.”)

My final interview is with Aidan Turner, who is playing Rivals’ chat show host, Declan O’Hara.

I mean to cast no aspersions on extremely handsome men who spent a decade being a country’s totemic sex god — as Turner was, during his Poldark years — but sex gods are usually quite emotionally damaged, with a form of what might be termed “PTSD” — Post-Totty Stress Disorder. They often make for effortful company. They want to be taken seriously.

In the event, Turner, 41, is an absolute hoot — particularly on the subject of the massive moustache he sports on the show. It is a magnificent specimen of upper-lip pelt. It looks like a vole fell asleep under his nose.

It looks like the one Ned Flanders has on The Simpsons, I tell him.

Turner gives a huge, barking laugh.

“Ned Flanders? I mean, I was thinking more … Irish stag? Super-masculine?”

He starts giggling again.

Turner’s relaxed stance towards his sex god-dom comes with an interestingly meta twist. In Rivals, one of Baddingham’s TV shows is called Four Men Went to Mow — where sexy farmers, sexily stripped to the waist, carry out sexy agricultural duties.

Turner, of course, infamously stripped to the waist a few times in Poldark, for that scything scene or lying in bed or emerging from the sea. In a pleasingly postmodern moment, one scene sees Turner rail against Four Men Went to Mow — raging, almost camply, “TV can’t just be men taking their tops off!”

“Yes, that’s a lovely moment,” Turner says. “When I read the script, I was like, ‘Why have you put this in? It’s too close [to Poldark].’ But then they told me it’s in the original books — and it’s so funny. The first time I did that scene, people were keeling over laughing. It’s good to poke fun at these things.”

As one of the most Eighties stories ever, Rivals takes on some massive subjects: class, Aids, Section 28, sexism, rape, homophobia, Thatcherism, racism. As the Jane Austen of her time, Cooper has a lot of grist for her mill. The dramatic tension never drops.

But this is done hand in hand with the most delicious sense of silliness and fun. There is a single tracking shot of a buffet — the Most Eighties Buffet Ever — and the sheer amount of prawns is deeply hilarious. Prawns are very Eighties — and Rivals knows it.

Rivals knows that when it’s in Rupert Campbell-Black’s house, we will see his cold, posh childhood is perfectly encapsulated by the fact that his walls are covered in formidable oil paintings of his ancestors — but all his photo frames are full of pictures of his dogs.

And Rivals knows exactly when to play Huey Lewis and the News.

“We call it the Cooperverse,” Treadwell-Collins tells me. “It really is the equal of the DC or Marvel worlds. It’s that epic. And those who know about it are equally obsessed.”

I can attest to that. When I first read Rivals, at the age of 13, I decided I wanted to be a character in one of Cooper’s books. Specifically, Declan O’Hara’s youngest daughter: a feisty teenage girl who had dyed red hair, lived in a beautiful, sprawling house called the Priory, and was constantly rebelling against her school.

As a down payment, I first dyed my hair red. And then I decided I would change my name, in her honour. If I couldn’t actually be Declan’s youngest daughter, Caitlin O’Hara, I would stop being Catherine Moran and become Caitlin Moran. As some small promise that, one day, my life would be as fun as that of a Jilly Cooper heroine.

Because, sometimes, you don’t need a story about mythic quests, or wars, or dragons, or murder. You just need a story that promises you: being a grown-up could be exciting.

And that when sex, love, drama, awful men, fabulous bitches, workplace intrigues, swathes of blue eyeshadow and buffets of prawns finally come into your life, you can … poke fun at these things.

You can live in the Cooperverse too.

Rivals is on Disney+ from October 18

#Rivals

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Hello! I have a few questions (after compiling all the information about the AU in a google docs haha), hope you don't mind answering them!

Is Dolores mostly doing paper work (like Terry at the start of the series), or is she also actively participating in some dangerous operations/patrol?

How does Dolores feel about the men in the precinct? Are the men in the precinct considerate of her experience, did she tell everyone about it?

Who is the most successful detective in the precinct (i.e. who has the most closed cases)? Either at the start of the series or in the middle, if it’s the major plot point

How do Pedro and Antonio relate to the rest of the cast?

Do you have ideas for the designs of other characters? Which of my designs would you want to change and how (apart from the heights of course)? They are not exactly thought through so no offense really if you don't like them. The most thought was put into Camilo’s design but it really is limited by ‘he seems like a guy who would dress up to work like he’s on a date, just because he appreciates fashion and this is why he is not "afraid" to wear pink’, bUT I might be wrong

Oh, and since we know their ages, are the main characters single or do they have significant others (and children)? Are any of them queer?

Also, is it better to send separate asks for each question...?

Not at all! I love receiving asks! If you forget to mention the AU, don’t worry about it, I usually can work out given context. 😄

Dolores is actively involved in dangerous operations, though it should be noted that she definitely picks her partners to avoid working with certain people *cough* Camilo. The only two who only do paper work being Osvaldo and Rendon.

She has not told any man/detective about her previous experience. The men on the squad are genuinely nice, well, Osvaldo is Hitchcock so that may be debatable. I digress, the only person she has opened up to is Mirabel, who has definitely experienced similar issues - partially due to the job of an assistant/secretary being so over-sexualised.

Any of Isabela, Dolores, Luisa and Camilo would argue to death about themself being their precinct’s best detective. Isabela and Camilo are actively competing about it, similar to Amy and Jake’s bet. Obviously with no romantic implications. They are just competitive and dramatic shits. Dolores probably has the best numbers and definitely brags about it.

Antonio will be this AU’s version of Nikolaj further down the line. Pedro is still Alma’s husband and Bruno’s father, who died in action and is subsequently a famous detective - this was all prior Bruno’s birth, in case you were wondering. But it definitely puts pressure on Bruno to live up to his father’s legacy.

As far as fashion goes…

Mirabel, I believe I discussed her previously? Vintage, formal, shouldn’t look more modern than about 1950. Always in a skirt, blouse and heels.

Dolores is very accurate. Very Amy-coded. A lot of business wear and suits, hair always tied up. Usually with some red or shade of. (They all stick to their colours for the most part). Very professional looking, in summary.

Isabela is very Rosa in terms of style. Boots, leather jacket, looks like she would and could kill you. But with a little more colour and dramatic flair, usually splattered a bit. Definitely has a dyed streak or two in her hair. Winged eyeliner.

Speaking of dramatic flair, let’s talk about Camilo. He is definitely very into fashion!! The most flamboyant dresser in the 99. Probably has been told to change a couple of times by Dolores and/or Bruno. Not professional or business-like at all, probably a lot of bright colours and bold patterns, hell, maybe even sparkles. He dresses for himself and it shows. Definitely wouldn’t be afraid to wear pink.

Luisa also dresses for herself, but nowhere near as dramatic. She prioritises comfort. But still wants her choices to be practical enough for physical activity and athletics, of course. Definitely has little hints of Mirabel’s embroidery in some of her clothes.

Osvaldo, Rendon and Aaron probably stay very close to their source material. Just add a badge and gun, and they are good to go. Basic shirt, trousers, tie, etc.

As for partners…

Osvaldo is unsurprisingly single. Probably has unofficial step-children.

Rendon has a wife, but she is never seen or mentioned by name. He also has two kids, who are fully grown by now, that are never named or mentioned by name either.

Bruno, who is gay, is married to a man, Alfonso Hernandez, who does work as a professor because he’s basically Kevin. (Now that I’m thinking about it, it is highly likely Alfonso taught Mirabel at some point when she was at university).

Dolores and Mariano are together and engaged by the start of the series, but not yet married. Due to being too busy. That will happen later.

Isabela, a lesbian, has a girlfriend/common-law partner, Lili. Secretly. She hasn’t told anyone she works with, they think she is single. She finds it amusing that the squad (mainly just Luisa, Camilo and Aaron) have theories that she secretly kills all of her dates.

Luisa is also a lesbian. She had a serious girlfriend (during the time at her previous precinct) but was dumped because she cared too much for her sister. She was spending a lot of time with Mirabel, who, for context, had gotten caught in a collapsing building accident and was very injured. Their parents were too busy to care for Mirabel, so Luisa became her primary caretaker. She hasn’t gotten back into dating subsequently.

Aaron is divorced and looking to find a new girl. He tries his luck with Mirabel but it doesn’t go anywhere. Will probably get married again to his variant of Genevieve some time lager.

Camilo, gay, is also single. He does experience a couple dates before ultimately getting together with Marco Osma and marry him, but that is much further into the series.

Mirabel is aromantic and asexual. She does not want or need a relationship. Has never been in one or been on a date.

I hope this answers all of your questions! Feel free to send more!

[lazorbeanz]

I finally got it done 🥲

So I’ve decided to try get back into writing again, even if it’s just short stories or straight up dialogue. And I thought it be best to warm back into it with using some comfort characters, characters I’ve written about before.

Super Mario is my childhood franchise and obsession…without it I may have never discovered Sonic 😧 Whether you are a Mario fan or not, I hope you enjoy it some way or another lol

So I present to you;

The Super Slay Bros.

A Super Mario one shot based of a hc discussed by me and my sister over a game of Mario kart

TW: gen Z talk 💀

“Ooooh peach! Come check out this skirt!” Daisy yelled from across the store.

Her best friend spun on her heel and strode straight towards the voice. Her pale pink stilettos clacking on the wooden floor boards beneath her. When she arrived by the girl’s side, she looked down and was in immediate awe by what she saw: a simple but elegant pleated skirt almost the colour of her heels. It included a white checkered design to it. Again; simple, but elegant.

“Oh Daisy, this would go great with this!” She remarked, holding up a white, cropped blouse, with small frills on the ends of the short sleeves.

“I should definitely try these on!”

“Totes.” Daisy nodded in agreement. “Besides, I have almost a closet’s worth of clothes I just HAVE to try out.” She looked down at the bag she was holding, almost overflowing with bits and pieces she picked out, which if Peach didn’t know better, almost looked like half the store was raided.

But she couldn’t be mad, she just sighed and smiled. Daisy hardly ever went proper fashion shopping, but when she did, she was like a kid in a candy store…without a parent. The moment she stepped a foot in this boutique, she already spotted ten things she would die to own.

“Miiight wanna let them know…” Daisy pointed. Peach spun around, knowing who she was referring to.

“Mario! Luigi! Me and Daisy are gonna try a few things on. We won’t be long.” She hollered to the brothers, who were just standing awkwardly in the middle of the shop. Their focus immediately turned towards the princess.

“Oh, n-no worries Princess! We’ll be waiting out here.” Mario replied with a smile.

Peach returned him a weak smile, then made her way with Daisy towards the changing rooms. To be honest, she felt kinda bad for allowing them to be dragged into this…shopping wasn’t their cup of tea, let alone fashion shopping…she gets that. And the way she saw them standing around like sore thumbs was really unfair in her opinion. But it was their day off work and they both insisted to tag along, in case the girls required help in carrying an overload on purchases…Such gentlemen! What a way to spend a day off! She hated to leave them like this.

Peach could only hope they wouldn’t be too long, but as for her friend’s current situation, this ain’t gonna be a quick ‘in-n-out’…

———

Ten minutes had already passed and there was no sign of the girls emerging from the changing rooms…and as patient as Mario could possibly be, he was beginning to find this awkward. A few people had come in, to do the same as what the four were in here for, instantly recognising the iconic Mario Brothers, some who even struck up a conversation or two with them, which they were able explain their reasons for being in a place such as this…they seemed understand.

Now the store was empty just like how it was when they first arrived, a loud silence filled the air, apart from the faint music that could be heard playing in the shop. Mario glanced over at his brother, who looked just as lost. He was twiddling his thumbs, which the older knew was a sign of his anxiety. For being the only 2 out here really didn’t give any reason to get anxious…but this is Luigi we’re talking about. He can get anxious from practically anything…even from dead silence.

Mario scanned the area, looking in hopes for something that might calm his younger brother a bit. When something in particular caught his eye. He smirked to himself and walked over to the counter.

———

“Hey Lu!”

Luigi gasped and flinched, slightly surprised by the mentioning of his name. He swiftly looked up to the direction where the voice came from.

“M-Mario?! What the heck?!”

Luigi looked more confused than a man in a barber shop. Looking his brother up and down.

His older brother was completely adorned in beaded necklaces around his neck and multiple bracelets on both wrists. He was also wearing a pair of sunglasses with an incredibly thick pink frame, and a green cap worn backwards, which he believed had a 1-UP mushroom embroided on the front.

“Fab am I right?” His brother attempted to mimic the girls’ casual lingo, whilst striking a pose like a runway model.

This caused Luigi to snicker. Who was he and what did he do with his brother?

“Mario what is thi- woah!”

He got interrupted with Mario grabbing a hold of his arm and pulling him towards the counter.

“It’s time we keep ourselves busy in the meantime” the older glanced back at the younger with a grin painted on his face. And it wasn’t just any grin…it was THAT grin…the grin that meant he had an idea, usually a mischievous one at that.

I mean he was right, almost 15 minutes has passed and neither girl showed, if he had something in mind to keep them occupied from the seemingly long wait, it was worth a shot.

Mario let go of his grasp once they were at their destination. To the right of the register, was a huge rotatable stand, which held an unruly amount of assorted accessories…necklaces, earrings, rings, bracelets, you name it!

Luigi looked at Mario, and Mario at him.

“Help yourself.” He nodded to the stand.

Now it was Luigi’s turn to put on ‘the grin’ as he began to strip the stands of all sorts of jewellery, and began applying them on him. He just managed to squeeze a few rings on his fingers. Having pretty large hands made it difficult as most of the sizes were for smaller fingers.

Once done with the jewellery, he surveyed the area to find the hats. He chose a simple straw hat…and also found a purple scarf but was so long he wore it like a fur boa. Lastly, he found a pair of rounded sunglasses with a metallic bronze frame.

“Slay or nay?” He spun around to face his brother, who decided to leave him on his own while he got dressed up. Mario chuckled at hearing the unexpected lingo from his younger brother.

“Oh my gosh, SLAY QUEEN!!” He exclaimed louder that he should’ve, sending both brothers into fits of laughter. Honestly, it was so cringy but so hilarious at the same time. They didn’t know how on earth people would say stuff like this with a straight face…But one of them will either strike a weird pose, or attempt to say another cringy girl comment, which would send them back into another fit of giggles.

After almost a minute of being hunched on the floor, trying to regain breath, the pair finally regained composure and decided to head back to the stand, switching up their looks with other accessory pieces. They also noticed a mirror right next to the jewellery stand, which they used to take mirror selfies with their cellphones, imitating how the girls do them. The poses and a frequent “slay gurl!” or a “Yass queen!” From one of them would send them howling.

They unconsciously repeated this for another 15 minutes. Out of all the possibilities of how their day would turn out, neither expected to be doing something as out of the blue, as this.

———

Peach forcefully swung the door open of the changing room, gasping for a breath of (somewhat) fresh air. It can get kinda stuffy in those change rooms, and with the duration she was in their for, not only trying her own picks, which turned out to be a perfect fit and match, but also having to assist daisy in an unexpected wardrobe malfunction or two, (either a zipper wouldn’t budge or she got stuck in a clothing item for being too small) it was better than nothing.

The girl inhaled deeply and exhaled, feeling much better, she turned around to see her best friend dragging her bag stuffed with clothes, majority of them turned out to be too small for her.

“I’m sorry the try on was a flop, Dais.” Peach placed a hand gently on the girl’s back.

“Eh don’t stress.” She sighed. “Besides, after all that, there’s just one thing in particular that I want.” She stated, pulling up a pale blue bodycon dress with tiny daisies dotted all over. “It’s…PERFECT!”

All Peach could do at that moment was shoot Daisy a smile, glad that she found something she wanted. But there was a part of her that just wanted to scream…all this just to buy ONE dress?! She shrugged it off, relieved it’s over now, when she remembered the guys were still waiting.

“Oh shoot, the boys!” She whispered, but still loud enough for Daisy to hear. The girls’ pace increased rapidly, making their way to where they last saw the 2, but stopped to a halt just as quick when they heard what definitely sounded like Mario and Luigi’s voices coming from…over by the counter?

———

“What on earth?!”

The sound of the Princess’ voice seemed to get their attention, both were startled however.

Mario was first to make a comment.

“Ahh P-princess! Uhhhhh I-I-it’s not what it looks like! You see, w-we were just l-looking!” He stammered, his face as red as his shirt. He almost immediately started taking off the load of accessories that were currently on him. Luigi followed suit, but ended up getting his arms tangled in the amount of necklaces around his neck.

“Hm I can see that…” She eyed him up and down. The plumber chuckled nervously.

“Looks like these two had a little try-on session of their own.” Daisy stifled a laugh. “I don’t know about you girl…but I think they kinda slay.”

“NOHOOO!!! NO MORE SLAY!!” Luigi cried aloud before collapsing on the floor, cackling, his arms still entwined in all the jewellery.

“Hang on Weegie, I’m coming.” Daisy assured, kneeling down to his aid.

Peach giggled at the commotion from the two down below, then turned to face Mario. “Maybe Daisy is right.” She winked at him. “Lemme help you get all that off.” She offered, which he gladly accepted her help, removing all the necklaces, bracelets, etc. She returned them back onto the stand as if they were never moved. She also returned the hat and sunglasses back to their designated spots. Daisy did the same with Luigi’s collection, but kept the sunglasses, as she thought they’d go well with her new dress.

Once they all decided to chime in and help return all Daisy’s previous picks back to where they belong throughout the store, and purchased their goods, they finally made their exit out of the boutique.

The mall was incredibly lively from when they first arrived. But that wasn’t gonna be able to mute Daisy’s holler, pointing at something through a window in another boutique.

“OH PEACH!! WE HAVE TO CHECK THIS OUT!!!”

Peach didn’t even catch what it was that Daisy was excited about this time.

Her, along with Mario and Luigi, just groaned in unison.

You read it all the way through? Yay! :D

I hope you enjoyed it! It was thought out a lot better in my head but I’m incredibly eepy (I stayed up late to finish this) so I’m content

Haven’t done a full grammatical check so apologies for any mistakes ;-;

I’m sorry for the cringe ;3;

❤️🩷💚🧡

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Ready Up." Freddy Krueger X Amber Cottrell X GN! Reader.

Hey! It's Multi-May! How exciting! It's been a whole year! I know I haven't written a lot this year, but to be honest, it's been quite a lot. I hope to write a lot this month and try to make up for some lost time! I figured why not start with a good Freddy, Amber and YOU fic! Last May we got an aftercare fic, this time, we get one of you getting ready for a date! Not super filthy, but very fun! Let's go!

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Rating. NSFW-Ish. Length. 2.4K. Freddy Krueger X Amber Cottrell X GN! Reader. No Pronouns Or Parts Specified. Warnings: Some Sexual Content And Banter. Alcohol Consumption.

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It was Friday night. 

To most people, Friday night just meant the end of the work week, the start of the weekend, the end of stress and the beginnings of fun, and it meant that to you too, sure, but it also meant much, much more to you. Why? Well because Friday night was date night. 

You were so lucky you had more than one partner, you had two. 

The dates you had on Friday had more than one part to them as well. It stared as it always does, with a text, you get it on lunch, a simple, “Sidebar. Six P.M., see you there?”

You grin and text back quickly, “Can’t wait!” 

You get three heart emotes in a neat little row in response almost immediately, and so the plan is set. You finish up work and head home, you had packed your Friday night bag that morning, you get changed out of your work clothes, and into the outfit you already laid out. You had been counting on this and knew time was off the essence, the time you get with her isn’t as much as you’d like, you don’t want to waste a second of it. Once you were changed, you headed back out, knowing you might not be potentially back until over twenty-four hours from now. 

You’d been to this bar once, after a concert with some friends, but never with her. Once inside, you get a table, sit down, and you wait. You were early, she is right on time, six o’clock on the dot, the door opens, and she strolls in, she’s still dressed from work, must have come right from there, which is the usual for her. She looks amazing as always in a stylish blouse, tight pencil skirt that hugs her thighs, tall and polished heels, her hair is down and purse slung over her shoulder, she glances around, catches sight of you and holds up a hand, she waves with a warm smile. She starts to come over, as soon as she’s close enough she says, “Hey sweetheart, thanks for meeting me here.” 

“Of course! Date night with you? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She is right beside you now, her bag is put over the back of the chair, she leans over and kisses you. 

You melt into it. 

It’s been a whole week since you’d last gotten to see her, the week was too hectic, far too much going on to get to meet up, so this was needed. You return her affection, you kiss her back, and she pulls away with a light laugh, “Mmm, miss me that much?”

“Endlessly.” You sigh dreamily, and she takes her seat, she picks up the cocktail menu and opens it, “What are you in the mood for? I’m thinking something with gin.”

You tease her about branching out from scotch and bourbon and whisky, and she laughs, rolls her eyes, but it’s fond. “Am I not allowed to try something new?”

“Course not, M’ glad to see the change.” You pick out a gin based cocktail and so does she and you both share them evenly, you think the one she picked out was better, funnily enough, she thought the one you did was, weird how that works out. 

You both have two drinks and get caught up on each other’s weeks, vent frustration, tell funny stories, laugh and commiserate and of course, you express how much you missed each other, holding hands over the table-top.

“Love the new manicure, by the way, great colour.” You compliment and she preens, “Thank you! Seasonal change up, spring is coming in so the pallet must reflect that, you know?” She shows off her nails, and you look closer, the pale pink reminds you of peony flowers, it’s classy, glossy and impeccable. You make a note to yourself to get her some flowers soon rather than later.

You pick up the tab while she is in the bathroom, and she playfully scolds you over it, she pays much more often than you ever do because she makes much more than you and loves to spoil you stupid, but you try to hit her back whenever the opportunity presents itself. 

After leaving the bar, both hand in hand, you suggest the restaurant, and she grins, excitedly asking you to lead the way. Amber was big into food, she loved cooking, adored going out to eat and eating well, she’d opened your eyes in a lot of ways to different food, took you to some amazing places, so in return you’ve gotten very into looking up and researching places so you could suggest some from time to time. 

When she told you Sidebar, you had a look through the extra bookmark tab you kept, find a restaurant you looked into previously that was within walking distance, and luckily you had one that fit the bill exactly. It wasn’t a super well known place, but you’d seen it recommended in a local foodie forum, the kind of place that if you gave it another two months it was gonna have articles about it and explode and getting a reservation would become next to impossible. It was Friday, but you got in with a less than five minute wait. 

You both sit down at this quiet table for two near the window that looks out onto the street, but you don’t give a shit about the view, you are just looking at her. She had unbuttoned her blouse a few buttons, her freckled cheeks were rosy, blue eyes alight, she was looking over the wine menu and debating between two different bottles, asking which you thought sounded better. 

Dinner was good, you shared the wine, she got a pasta dish and fed you some from her fork, it was divine, you should have ordered what she did instead of the burger you’d decided on. After dinner, you forgo dessert, she tells you she hit the bakery last night, bought something so you could have something sweet back at her place. She gushes over how good the restaurant choice you made was while on your way home, you feel warm and happy. 

Her heels click on the well polished floors of the lobby of her apartment building as you walk alongside her. Her arm is looped with yours, and you can feel the anticipation, the excitement building, you were very much looking forward to the next part. You ride the elevator up to her floor, your mood rising with the altitude, after getting out and down the hall, she gets her keys out, unlocks the door and in you both go, first you, then her. 

You end up in the kitchen, she got this cute little cake, it’s fruit and cream, soft amd moist sponge cake, it's sweet but not overly so, she served you both a nightcap, you sit on stools at the kitchen island and ask, “So we having a shower after this?”

She smiles in that knowing way only she can, “What do you think?”

You know for a fact that you both would, playing the game is cute all the same. 

Drinks and dessert finished, you follow behind her to the bathroom, you close the door, she turns on the water, lets it start to heat up as she begins to strip down. She steps out of her heels as nimble fingers start to unbutton the rest of her blouse, the skirt is unzipped and shimmied out of, it pools around bare feet, she shrugs the fabric to the floor and is in just her underwear. Your own hands are lingering, stopped midway through taking your own clothes off, just looking at her. She catches you and laughs, “Come on, strip, before we take up all the hot water in the damn building.” 

You shake your head and concede, “Sorry, sorry, just never gonna get used to that view…”

Your voice trails off, you are taking off your own shirt as she is unhooking her bra, your eyes not leaving her for a second.

Under the warm spray of the shower, with her firm but gentle touch, you truly feel the last bits of the week's stress melt off of you. She loves to help you clean up, and she loves to let you do the same, she lathers and scrubs, washes and rinses, treats you very well. When you go to return the favour you linger, you take your time. Foreplay between you both feels like it starts as soon as you are in the same physical space, but now is when it truly ramps up. How can it not? As you touch ample curves and hands wander over every single inch of skin, as you kiss her and she presses nearer, touching you in return.

Her hair is up, and she is being careful not to get it wet, the long mess of curls she has takes forever to wash, forget about drying it, you express further care, tilt her head away from the water as you kiss her neck. Eventually you manage to pull yourselves apart and get out. 

Soon enough, you are wearing a silk robe that she bought you and keeps in her walk-in closet. You are sprawled on the crisp white bedspread, watching her get ready for your other partner. She is getting dressed in some new lingerie, she told you over dinner she’d picked it up on her lunch break, some boutique downtown collabing with a designer she liked to put out a new line for spring, she saw the samples online and put in an order as soon as she was able. Amber doesn’t own a lot of white lingerie, but it looks startlingly good on her, the embroidery is delicate and intricate, you love it, but you mourn how it will probably be wrecked by him before the night is out. She’s got money to burn, she loves buying new things just for him to ruin, pieces she loves too much are never worn for him, ones that only you have gotten to see her in, you focus on how fun it is to be a part of him destroying the ones she lets him and let go of the fact this particular set will never be the same again when the morning light creeps in. 

You enjoy it as you watch her fix and adjust straps, smooth out lines and make it all look just right. She strolls back in from the haven that is her closet, you reach out and touch her as she passes by, fingertips graze the exposed strip of skin between her thigh high stocking and the matching panties, she smiles and bats your hand away, “Soon, just be a little more patient.”

“Tease.” You huff out as you watch her sit down at her vanity. She is doing her evening routine now, you watch her begin, opening up a tub to start her skin care, “How am I a tease exactly?”

“Cuz you’d let him do whatever he wants whenever he wants.”

“And you want the same privilege?” She asks, meeting your gaze in the mirror, and you raise  your eyebrows, “I have eyes, a brain and a heartbeat Amber, of course I’d love to have you the way he does.” 

The conversation is light, joking, you are saying it with a smile, and she is returning it, before she clucks her tongue in mock sympathy, an overexaggerated pout, “Poor baby, so hard done by.” 

It’s quiet for a moment. 

You don’t feel any jealousy. You have more than he does in some respects, you and her hang-out in public, you get to sleep in her bed, you have the chance to see her for random lunches and so much more than he does. Your relationship works, you are secure. 

You feel soft, intimate, true she has a ton of love for him, and he gets her all prettied up, the perfect slut, happy and at the start of her weekend, but you get her all the time. He gets her on the Friday nights, you get her on the Saturday mornings, wake up to her with messy hair, help tend to the wounds he leaves, have breakfast in her balcony garden, you wouldn’t trade that for anything.

“What’s got that sweet fucking look painted all over your face?” She asked and you sighed, “You.”

She glanced over her shoulder, “Me?”

“Yeah. You, just thinking about you and about us.”

“All good things, I hope.” She muses and you confirm, “Obviously. I’m just happy. Really happy with you.” 

She looks pleased to hear that, she flicks off the lights that surround her vanity mirror, she gets up and comes over to you, “What are you doing to me?” She sighs, leaning down, she kisses your forehead, “You are getting me in the totally wrong headspace to go see that crispy fucker. I’m going to get in there all gooey and shit.” 

“Awe, heaven forbid you go in there any less than your sluttiest.” You laugh and she says, “Exactly! How am I meant to go in there mouth first when you get to my heart the way you do?” 

She nudged you, taking the hint you scoot, you get into bed after taking off your robe, and she turns off the bedside lamp, getting in next to you. She curls into you immediately, your arms open, accepting her closer, tugging her near, she cuddles into you and presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw. You say it more often than she does, she shows it more than she would ever say it, quiet and into the dark, “I love you.”

Amber hums and nuzzles her nose into your neck, there is a humming, not explicitly musical, just a rise and fall the tune of which could be read as mirroring what you said. 

Sleep doesn’t take long to claim either of you, and soon enough you wake up to the feel of different bedsheets on bare skin, a softer mattress under you and that voice cutting in from above, “Took you long enough.” 

Your eyes remain closed, but you can feel her shifting, excited voice pouring out from the woman still in your arms, “Hi Freddy, sorry to keep you waiting.”

The second part of date night starts now. 

[ghoulelegy]

In The Breeze Of The Autumn Leaves - I sacrifice myself to you (Halloween Special)

Thank you @jimothybarnes, @em0bussy, @creatura-theanarchist, @sacred-coffin and @everybodyshusband for all the wonderful support you've shown <3333 On the eve of Samhain, you prepare for the ghoul ball, choosing a flowing black cloak and a blouse that embody your dark academia aesthetic while hinting at your transformation. When Copia invites you to the abbey’s garden, you embrace the opportunity to reconnect, and together you step into the vibrant atmosphere of the ball… Words: About 10k Rating: Explicit - There is smut in this chapter Read here or on AO3

The days leading up to October 31st felt like a dream caught between reality and the ethereal. Each morning greeted you with the crisp air of autumn, the vibrant colours of the season serving as a reminder of life’s transient beauty. Yet, beneath the surface, a storm brewed within you—a clash of your growing ghoul nature and the weight of loneliness that often accompanied it. You spent countless hours in the library, surrounded by ancient tomes and whispered knowledge. Yet the words seemed to blur as your thoughts drifted to your true self. The strange sensations continued to haunt you—brief flickers of a tail, the sharpness of your senses, and the persistent hunger for something just beyond your reach.

The once comforting world of academia now felt like a maze, one that led you deeper into confusion rather than clarity. One evening, as rain tapped against your window, you found yourself drawn to the tarot shop again. The owner, with her knowing eyes, shuffled her cards as if divining your future. “You are on the brink of transformation,” she said, her voice smooth and mysterious. “Embrace it, and you will find your place.” The cryptic advice lingered in your mind, offering both hope and fear in equal measure. Classes passed in a blur of assignments and restless nights. You struggled to keep up, your professors’ growing impatience gnawing at your already frayed nerves. Each day felt like a balancing act—trying to blend in with your peers while grappling with the reality of your identity. Your classmates buzzed with excitement about Halloween parties, costumes, and traditions, but you felt like a ghost among them, caught between two worlds.

In quieter moments, you reflected on your connection with Copia. His presence had become a balm for your anxious thoughts, yet you hesitated to reach out. He was busy, preoccupied with his own responsibilities. You worried that your struggles would only add to his burdens. The distance felt insurmountable, amplifying the loneliness that clung to you like a shadow. Juno, with her boundless energy, became your only solace. Long walks through the colourful leaves provided brief escapes from your spiralling thoughts. As she bounded through the foliage, you tried to remind yourself of the joy in those fleeting moments, but the weight of what you were becoming loomed large.

The eve of Samhain arrived, and the campus transformed into a haunted landscape—decorations that once felt festive now seemed to taunt you. The weight of expectation pressed heavily on your shoulders, and a sense of dread coiled in your stomach.

You knew the ghoul ball awaited, but part of you felt terrified at the idea of stepping into a world that might expose your true self. After walking Juno, you returned to your room and stood before your closet, rifling through your clothes. You needed an outfit that embodied your dark academia aesthetic—rich fabrics, deep hues, and a sense of mystery. But it also had to reflect the changes brewing inside you, the growing awareness of your ghoul nature.

As you sifted through your garments, a particular piece caught your eye: a long, flowing black cloak with intricate silver embroidery along the edges. It draped elegantly, a perfect blend of elegance and haunting enigma. You could imagine it swirling around you as you moved through the crowd at the ball. Next, you rummaged for a top to wear beneath the cloak. You settled on a fitted, high-collared blouse in a deep orange that complemented the cloak. The colour made your skin glow softly, and you admired how it seemed to enhance your features. But there was something missing—a detail that would hint at your ghoul nature without revealing everything. You reached for a pair of vintage gloves, their lace delicate and slightly tattered at the edges. Sliding them on, you felt a sense of transformation beginning to take hold.

As you dressed, the familiar loneliness crept back in. You pulled out your phone, scrolling through messages, but the conversations felt flat, lacking the depth you craved. You missed the lightness in Copia’s voice, the way he could brighten your darkest thoughts.

This could be the night when things shifted, when you could break through the loneliness that had shadowed you for days. Finally, you glanced at the mirror, trying to envision the complete look. It felt incomplete. You had a fleeting thought of incorporating something more daring—a hidden accessory that would subtly signify your transformation. After some deliberation, you decided to make a simple addition: a small charm that resembled a tail, tucked discreetly under the cloak’s hem. Once fully dressed, you stood before the mirror, allowing yourself a moment to breathe.

You looked different—more confident, yet vulnerable. The layers of your costume mirrored the layers of your identity: a student, a ghoul in the making, and someone searching for their place in a world that felt increasingly complicated. Juno seemed to sense your introspection. She trotted over, nuzzling against your leg, grounding you in the moment.

 You reached down to scratch behind her ears, a small smile breaking through your anxiety.

And then your phone bleeped.

I actually have a bit of time before the gathering. Want to meet up at the abbey’s garden? – C  

A wave of relief washed over you. You quickly confirmed your meeting, and felt a newfound excitement bubbling within you. This was a chance to share your thoughts with Copia, to bridge the gap between the ghoulish uncertainty and the connection you felt with him.

“Let’s go, Juno,” you said, your voice steadying with purpose. With a quick glance back at the group, you made your way toward the abbey, the path illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon.

As you approached the familiar stone structure, the garden came into view, draped in shadows but still radiating a certain warmth. You could almost sense the energy of the place, a combination of the earth’s magic and the lingering presence of past gatherings. The scent of damp earth and blooming nightflowers filled the air, mingling with your anticipation.

As you stepped into the garden, the moonlight cast a silvery glow over the cobblestones, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The weight of your loneliness lifted slightly, replaced by the thrill of being close to Copia again. You spotted him leaning against a stone wall, his dark cloak flowing elegantly around him. He looked up as you approached, a soft smile breaking across his face that sent a flutter through your chest.

“You made it!” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “I almost didn’t come.”

Copia stepped closer, his expression turning serious for a moment. “I’m glad you did. I’ve missed you. I know things have been... different lately.”

His words struck a chord deep within you. The distance you both felt was palpable, and yet here he was, bridging that gap.

“Yeah, it’s been a lot to handle. I’ve been feeling... lonely, I guess.”

He nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. “I understand. I’ve been feeling a bit distant myself, caught up in everything happening with my brother and the preparations for tonight.”

You appreciated his honesty; it reminded you that you weren’t alone in your struggles.

“It’s hard to balance everything, isn’t it? School, work, and... all of this.” You gestured vaguely, indicating the world of ghouls and the unseen magic surrounding you.

Copia chuckled softly, the sound resonating in the stillness of the garden. “Definitely. But tonight is a chance for us to connect, to celebrate, and maybe let go of some of that weight, even if just for a while.”

His words resonated within you, igniting a flicker of hope.

“I’d like that,” you admitted, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease a little.

“Let’s make the most of it,” he suggested, offering you his arm with a playful bow. “Shall we?”

As you walked together, the connection between you felt electric, pulsing with unspoken understanding. Juno trotted happily beside you, her tail wagging as if sensing the shift in energy.

“I love your outfit, by the way,” Copia said, glancing at your cloak. “It suits you perfectly.”

A blush crept up your cheeks. “Thanks! I wanted it to reflect... everything I’m going through. The layers of it, I guess.”

Copia’s gaze turned thoughtful, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. “I can see that. It’s beautiful, just like you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words.

“You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

He smiled, a mix of mischief and sincerity in his expression. “That’s my job, isn’t it?”

As the two of you stepped out of the garden and into the main venue of the ball, the atmosphere enveloped you both—laughter and music swirling around, lights dancing like fireflies in the night. You took a deep breath, the energy of the gathering stirring something deep inside you. Yet, even amidst the festive chaos, a flicker of anxiety danced at the edges of your mind. How would you navigate this realm of celebration while feeling so disconnected from the world? The tension you had carried for days threatened to resurface as the crowd surged around you.

Copia sensed your hesitation, his hand gently brushing against yours, anchoring you in the moment.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just be yourself. We’re here together, and that’s what matters.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and you took a steadying breath. “You’re right. I just need to focus on the moment.”

The ballroom was alive, a kaleidoscope of colors and laughter. Ghouls mingled, their costumes a mix of the grotesque and the enchanting, creating an atmosphere that felt both surreal and magical. You spotted a group of friends nearby, their vibrant costumes drawing your attention. For a moment, you allowed yourself to be swept up in the excitement, the music pulsing like a heartbeat around you.

Copia led you further into the throng, weaving through the crowd with an ease that made you feel safe. The music resonated deep within you, and you felt the rhythm pull you in, beckoning you to join the dance.

“Come on,” he said, his smile infectious. “Let’s dance!”

With that, he pulled you onto the makeshift dance floor, and for a moment, the world faded away. As you twirled under the soft glow of the chandeliers, you let go of your worries, surrendering to the magic of the night. The music wrapped around you, lifting your spirits and allowing your ghoul nature to emerge without fear. Copia’s laughter was a melody of its own, harmonizing with the music as he spun you around. You could feel your body responding to the beat, the movements becoming a dance of release and joy.

It was a moment of connection, of unity, and you felt lighter, as if the weight of your identity had momentarily faded. In that dance, you were no longer just a student caught between two worlds; you were a part of something greater, a living embodiment of the night’s energy. Juno circled around your feet, her playful spirit reflecting the joy you felt.

As the song reached its crescendo, Copia pulled you closer, his voice soft amidst the noise. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

The sincerity in his words ignited a warmth within you, and you met his gaze, feeling a connection that transcended the chaos around you.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” you replied, your heart racing as the distance between you shrank.

As the night unfolded, the initial anxiety began to dissipate, replaced by laughter and shared glances. The two of you moved from the dance floor to the edges of the ballroom, where you found a quieter nook draped in shadows, perfect for a moment of reprieve.

“I can’t believe how alive this place feels,” you said, leaning against the wall, the cool stone grounding you. “It’s like all the spirits of the past are here, celebrating with us.”

Copia nodded, a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes. “It’s true. There’s something magical about Samhain, about connecting with those who came before us. It’s a reminder that we’re part of a larger story.”

You paused, reflecting on his words. “I’ve been feeling so lost lately. Like I don’t belong anywhere.”

Copia tilted his head, his expression shifting to one of concern. “You do belong. You’re not alone in this. I see you, and I know you’re more than your fears. You’re finding your place, even if it doesn’t feel that way right now.”

Taking in the vibrant colours and flickering lights that adorned the hall. Your heart raced, a mix of nervousness and exhilaration flooding through you. Just then, you spotted Omega gliding across the dance floor, his dark gown flowing like liquid night. Terzo twirled him around, both of them laughing as they moved with effortless grace.

“They’re captivating together,” you said, smiling at the sight.

Copia’s gaze followed yours. “They really are. Omega has a way of lighting up the room.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the energy of the gathering seep into your bones. “I want to let go, too. Just for tonight.”

“Then let’s do it!” Copia said, his enthusiasm infectious. “What do you want to do next?”

Before you could respond, Rain appeared at your side, grinning widely. “Hey! You two look like you’re ready to take on the world! Want to join us for a group dance?”

“Absolutely!” you replied, feeling a thrill at the idea of moving together.

Copia took your hand, leading you toward the dance floor, where Aether and Dewdrop were already getting into the spirit of the evening. The music pulsed with energy, and as you joined the circle of friends, you felt your earlier loneliness begin to melt away.

Aether, ever the embodiment of mystery, wore an intricate ensemble inspired by alchemy and the elements. His dark, midnight-blue robe was accented with shimmering silver threads, tracing ancient symbols and constellations along the sleeves and down the back. A belt of metallic charms—small vials, rune-inscribed coins, and tiny glass crystals—jingled softly as he moved. His mask, shaped like a raven’s beak and dusted with silver, framed his intense eyes, lending him an otherworldly presence. His hair was slicked back, casting a sleek, almost regal shadow under the lights, and he carried a staff topped with an amethyst stone that caught the light, illuminating his expression with a magical glow.

Dewdrop, in contrast, was dressed in fiery tones that celebrated his playful yet edgy personality. His costume featured a red-and-black leather vest over a dark, fitted shirt, the fabric stitched with flames that seemed to flicker as he moved. A half-mask made of molded leather gave his face a devilish charm, the eyes outlined in smoky kohl, adding an intense gleam to his gaze. Chains and metal studs adorned his belt and boots, clinking with every step. Around his neck, he wore a choker with a pendant shaped like a serpent, nodding to his rebellious nature. His wild hair, styled to look as if he’d just stepped through a storm, added to the electric energy he brought to the dance floor.

The four of you danced together, letting the rhythm carry you. Rain twirled and spun, their laughter infectious, while Aether’s smooth moves brought an effortless charm to the group. Dewdrop added a playful energy, bouncing around like a firefly.

In the midst of the joyous chaos, you caught a glimpse of Omega and Terzo watching from the edge of the dance floor, their faces lit with smiles. It felt like a scene from a dream, the vibrant colours and laughter swirling around you like a warm embrace

As the night unfolded, you found yourself swept up in the rhythm of the music, the infectious joy of your companions, and the pulsing energy of the ghoul ball. For the first time in what felt like ages, the weight of your loneliness lifted, replaced by a sense of belonging. Here, surrounded by Copia and the others, you weren’t an outsider. You were part of something larger, something magical.

After a particularly lively round of dancing, you found yourselves breathless and laughing, stepping away from the floor to catch your breath. Copia led you to a quieter corner of the hall, away from the main festivities but still close enough to feel the thrum of energy in the air.

“You’re a fantastic dancer,” you complimented, your cheeks flushed from the excitement.

Copia grinned, a hint of pride in his eyes. “I try! But you—you’ve got a natural grace. I could hardly keep up.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but his words warmed you. There was something about the way Copia looked at you, the way he always managed to make you feel seen, even when you struggled to see yourself. It was that look that had drawn you to him in the first place—the quiet understanding, the unspoken bond that had grown between you over time.

For a moment, the two of you stood in comfortable silence, the distant sound of music and laughter filling the space around you. The night was magical, almost dreamlike, and you felt yourself getting lost in the moment.

“Do you ever think about… what comes next?” you asked suddenly, the question spilling from your lips before you had time to stop it.

Copia tilted his head, his gaze softening. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated, unsure how to put your feelings into words. “I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot about… change. This whole ghoul transformation—it feels like I’m becoming something different, something I don’t fully understand yet. And I don’t know where that leaves me, or… us.”

Copia’s expression grew thoughtful, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, with a gentle smile, he took your hand again, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. “Change is scary,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “But it’s also part of life. We’re all constantly evolving, even if we don’t always realize it. What matters is how we handle that change—whether we let it define us or whether we find a way to embrace it.”

You looked down at your intertwined hands, Copia’s words sinking deep into your heart. He always had a way of making things seem less daunting, of offering perspective when you needed it most.

“And as for us,” he continued, his tone softening even further, “we’ll figure it out together. No matter what happens, I’m here for you. We’re in this together.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, smiling through the sudden wave of emotion. “Thank you, Copia. I… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiled warmly, his eyes full of quiet affection. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Before you could say anything more, a familiar voice called out from across the room. Terzo was making his way toward you, his usual flair and charisma on full display as he gestured dramatically.

“Ah, there you two are!” he exclaimed, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’ve been hiding away in the shadows long enough! Come, join us for a drink. The night is still young, and we’ve barely begun to celebrate!”

You exchanged a quick glance with Copia, both of you laughing at Terzo’s theatrics. With a shared nod, you allowed him to lead you back into the heart of the festivities.

As the night wore on, you found yourself surrounded by warmth, laughter, and a sense of camaraderie that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The weight of your worries, your fears about the transformation, and the loneliness that had plagued you for weeks all seemed to melt away. Here, in this moment, with these people, you felt like you belonged.

At one point, you found yourself standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching as the others continued to laugh and dance. Copia was deep in conversation with Aether and Dewdrop, while Terzo and Omega continued their playful waltz, spinning gracefully under the dim lights.

For the first time in a long while, you felt at peace.

Suddenly, a gentle tap on your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to see Rain standing beside you, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Care for a dance, my dear?”

You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the offer. But Rain’s smile was warm and inviting, and after a brief hesitation, you nodded. “I’d love to.”

He took your hand with a flourish, leading you gracefully onto the dance floor. The music shifted to a softer, slower melody, and as you moved in time with the rhythm, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of contentment. Rain’s movements were smooth and effortless, his grip steady and reassuring.

“You seem lighter,” he observed after a moment, his voice low but kind. “Like a weight’s been lifted.”

“You seem to be quite in tune with my emotions” you chuckled

“Of course, my dear ghoul. I may be new, but I’m not new to the whole ghoul thing, unlike you.”

“Did you really have to point it out?” you smiled, the corners of your lips curling up as you enjoyed the banter. “I suppose you have a point. It’s nice to have someone who understands.”

“Understanding is my specialty,” he replied, his voice dropping to a more serious note. “But I also think it’s about letting go, you know? Just enjoying the moment.”

You nodded, feeling the truth in his words. “I’ve been holding onto a lot lately—worries, responsibilities… even fear about what’s happening with Terzo.”

Rain’s expression softened, and he pulled you a little closer. “Sometimes you have to let that go, even if just for a moment. Dance with me and forget everything else.”

As the music enveloped you both, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The swirling emotions and lingering anxieties began to dissipate, replaced by the simple joy of being present. You focused on the warmth of Rain’s hand around your waist and the comforting strength in his grip.

“Do you dance often?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Only when the mood strikes,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. “And when I have a captivating partner.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment. “Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in slightly. “Because I have a few more tricks up my sleeve.” He twirled you under his arm, and you laughed, feeling light as a feather, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten.

As the song transitioned into something more upbeat, you felt the energy around you shift. The dance floor filled with laughter and lively movements, the other ghouls joining in as the atmosphere grew more celebratory. You felt the urge to join them, to lose yourself in the revelry.

“Shall we?” Rain asked, his dark eyes inviting as he leaned closer.

“Absolutely!” you replied, a grin spreading across your face as you pulled him into the crowd.

You both danced among your friends, spinning and swaying, the laughter echoing off the walls as you lost yourselves in the moment. Copia and Aether cheered you on, while Terzo and Omega pulled you both into their playful chaos, twirling you around in a whirlwind of joy and laughter.

The world outside faded, and for that brief, blissful time, it was just you, Rain, and the others, united in the warmth of camaraderie. It was a rare gift—a moment of pure connection amid the chaos of your lives.

As the music pulsed through the air, you felt alive, the burdens of the past lifting like a shadow dissipating in the light. You caught Rain’s gaze across the dance floor, and in that instant, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

Just as the song reached its climax, a sudden chill swept through the room, a stark reminder of the dark uncertainties lingering just beyond the walls of joy. You felt it immediately, the unease creeping back into your mind, but before it could settle, Rain took your hand and pulled you close, a reassuring smile on his lips.

“Focus on the here and now,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “Just keep dancing.”

With that, you threw yourself back into the rhythm, letting the music drown out the shadows, the energy of the night enveloping you once more. As you danced together, you felt the lightness return, knowing that whatever awaited beyond the moment, you had your friends and Rain by your side.

The night had blurred into a haze of laughter, music, and flickering candlelight, carrying you through the hours as if time had bent to the whims of the ball. After dancing with Rain, you'd joined the others in a celebratory drink—or two, or three—losing track of how many chalices of wine had passed between hands. The warmth of your friends, their infectious joy, had drowned out the lingering shadows of doubt and loneliness you'd carried into the night.

By the time the clock struck some ungodly hour, you’d found yourself sprawled on a plush velvet couch, Copia nearby with a half-drunk bottle of something strong. Terzo had already slipped away into the night, leaving a whirlwind of energy in his wake, and Omega and Aether were huddled in a corner, laughing at something only they seemed to understand. The soft glow of dim lights bathed the room in a hazy, almost dreamlike quality.

Rain, ever the provocateur, had poured yet another drink for you, and though your head was starting to spin, you took it without a second thought. There was a safety in this moment—a feeling of belonging you'd chased for weeks. As you tilted your head back and took another sip, you felt Rain sit down beside you, his presence grounding you in the swirling chaos of the room.

"We should do this more often," he said with a grin, his voice light but sincere.

You nodded in agreement, though words felt like they were slipping away from you. The world was soft around the edges, everything bathed in a golden glow. You leaned back against the cushions, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment, just to savour the feeling.

A soft moan escaped you, and Rain responded by pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist, grounding you both in the intensity of the moment. The kiss became more urgent, more demanding, as if you were both trying to capture something fleeting—something precious.

As you broke the kiss, breathless and wide-eyed, you searched his gaze for reassurance. “What now?” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation and a hint of fear.

Rain smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Now, we let this moment guide us. Just trust me, and let’s explore what we feel.”

The warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his voice, and the tenderness of his gaze all enveloped you like a warm blanket. You nodded, feeling the last remnants of fear dissolve as you leaned in again, this time with newfound confidence.

Rain's gaze softened as he held you close, his arms still wrapped securely around your waist. He studied your face for a moment, his dark eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn't quite place—something between tenderness and restraint. His fingers traced a gentle path along your back, grounding you even as the world around you seemed to spin with possibilities.

"Now?" he echoed quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with both amusement and something deeper. He paused, as if weighing his words carefully, before speaking again. "Now, we take it slow."

The intensity between you both hadn’t dissipated, but his words were like a calming tide, easing the rush of emotions swirling within you. There was no pressure in his tone, no urgency to move beyond the moment you had just shared. It felt like a promise—unspoken, but understood.

You nodded, the tension in your chest loosening as you exhaled slowly. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, his presence steady and reassuring in the dim light of the room. Your heart still raced, but now it beat with a sense of calm anticipation rather than fear.

"Slow is good," you whispered, your voice steadier this time.

Rain smiled, that familiar, playful glint returning to his eyes as he leaned his forehead against yours. "We have all the time in the world, my dear," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "No need to rush."

For a moment, the world outside the two of you ceased to exist. The soft hum of laughter and distant conversation from the others faded into the background, leaving only the quiet, intimate bubble you'd found yourselves in. You let yourself sink into the comfort of the moment, feeling the weight of everything that had been building between you both dissolve into something softer, something you didn’t need to define just yet.

"Besides," Rain added with a smirk, "I have a reputation to maintain. Can't have everyone thinking I swoop in too fast."

You laughed softly, the sound breaking through the tension and bringing a lightness back into the air. "Of course not," you teased, your fingers lightly brushing against his chest. "We wouldn't want to tarnish your impeccable image."

He grinned, clearly pleased with your response, and for a brief moment, the tension between you two seemed to evaporate completely, replaced by the easy banter that had always defined your relationship. But beneath it all, you knew something had shifted. The kiss had changed things, deepened the connection you already felt with him, and though neither of you seemed eager to label it, there was an unspoken understanding that you were no longer just dancing around the edges of something more.

Rain's hand found yours again, his grip gentle but firm, as if reminding you that he was still there, no matter what. "Come on," he said softly, pulling you up from the couch and steadying you when you stumbled slightly, the effects of the wine still lingering. "Let’s get some air. Clear our heads."

You nodded, grateful for the suggestion, and together, you slipped out of the room and into the cool night air, the laughter and music from inside fading behind you. The sky above was a canvas of stars, glittering against the inky blackness, and the quiet stillness of the night felt like a welcome reprieve from the intensity of the evening.

Rain led you to a nearby garden, its flowers bathed in silver moonlight, the scent of night-blooming jasmine heavy in the air. He didn’t let go of your hand, and you didn’t want him to. There was a peacefulness here, a sense of solitude shared only between the two of you, away from the noise and the chaos.

You walked in silence for a while, your footsteps soft against the dew-kissed grass. Eventually, Rain stopped and turned to face you, his expression serious but kind. "Whatever happens next," he said quietly, his eyes searching yours, "we’ll figure it out together. No pressure, no expectations. Just… us."

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. It wasn’t just the kiss or the growing connection—it was the sense that, with Rain, you didn’t have to carry everything alone. He was offering you something more than a fleeting moment of passion; he was offering you understanding, patience, and most importantly, choice.

You smiled up at him, your chest light with the knowledge that this was something real, something you didn’t have to fear. "Just us," you echoed softly, and for the first time in a long while, the future felt less daunting.

Rain grinned, pulling you close once more, this time not with urgency but with a quiet affection that made your heart flutter. "And maybe a few more dances," he added, his voice teasing but warm, as he swayed gently with you under the stars.

The night stretched on around you, but here in the garden, time seemed to stand still, just the two of you moving together in a slow, unhurried rhythm, wrapped in the quiet promise of what was yet to come.

You felt the warmth of his gaze, a spark igniting between you. “What do you have in mind?”

Rain’s lips curved into a playful smile as he stepped closer, closing the distance between you. “I thought we could find a place to be alone, away from prying eyes.”

Before you could respond, he reached for your hand, guiding you through the dimly lit corridors. You followed him, excitement bubbling in your chest, your heart racing at the thought of being alone with him.

Eventually, he led you to a secluded alcove, the walls adorned with intricate carvings that glimmered in the candlelight. The air felt thick with anticipation as he turned to you, his eyes filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Here feels right, doesn’t it?” he murmured, stepping closer, his body just inches from yours.

You nodded, your pulse quickening as you took in the way his eyes darkened with desire. “It does.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a slow, lingering kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of sweetness and warmth that sent shivers down your spine. You melted against him, your hands finding their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands.

Rain deepened the kiss, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the moment, your heart racing in rhythm with the soft gasps escaping your lips.

As the kiss intensified, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, igniting a desire within you that you had never experienced before. You pulled back for a moment, breathless, searching his eyes.

“Are you sure about this?”

His gaze was unwavering, filled with a fierce longing. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With that, he leaned in again, capturing your lips with a renewed fervor. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the urgency between you building, a flame that demanded to be stoked.

Rain’s hands slid down your back, his fingers grazing the small of your waist, eliciting soft gasps from you. “Let go,” he whispered against your lips. “Embrace this.”

His words sent a rush of heat through you, and before you knew it, you were yielding to the moment, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. You felt yourself being pulled closer, the warmth of his body against yours igniting every nerve ending.

As the kiss deepened further, you felt the cool stone of the alcove at your back, anchoring you as you melted into his embrace. Rain’s lips trailed from your mouth to your neck, leaving a path of tingling warmth as he explored every inch of your skin.

“Rain…” you breathed, your voice a mix of longing and need.

“I want you,” he whispered against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. The raw desire in his voice made your heart race even faster.

With a mixture of excitement and nervousness, you nodded, surrendering to the moment. “I want you too.”

He captured your lips once more, the kiss heated and passionate, as if the world outside had ceased to exist. Rain pressed you against the wall, his body pressing against yours, creating a delicious friction that made you ache for more.

His hands roamed your body, exploring the curves and contours that he had long admired. You gasped as his fingers brushed the hem of your shirt, a wave of anticipation coursing through you.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his question. “Yes. I want this. I want you.”

With your words of encouragement, he leaned in, capturing your lips in another fierce kiss. The intensity between you surged as he began to lift your shirt, exposing your skin to the cool air.

The sensation sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your body, and you arched into him, craving more of his touch. Rain took his time, exploring every inch of your skin with reverence, his hands dancing over your curves as he worshipped you with his kisses.

The world around you faded into nothingness as you lost yourself in the moment, your inhibitions slipping away like the falling leaves outside. Every kiss, every caress ignited a fire within you, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

With that, he pressed you back against the wall, the cool stone contrasting with the heat radiating from both of you. The urgency of the moment enveloped you as he kissed you deeply, the world outside fading into nothing as you surrendered completely to him.

You felt a flutter of anxiety in your chest as you hesitated, wanting to ensure this was what he truly wanted. “Is this okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you shakily asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rain’s expression shifted, his eyes softening as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks gently. “You could never make me uncomfortable. Trust me, I want this just as much as you do.” His words, laced with affection and reassurance, sent a rush of warmth through you.

You nodded slowly, feeling your nervousness begin to melt away under the weight of his gaze. “Okay,” you said, the word feeling both exhilarating and liberating. “I trust you.”

With a smile that made your heart race, Rain leaned in again, capturing your lips with his. The kiss was deeper this time, filled with a hunger that mirrored your own. You lost yourself in him, your hands finding their way back to his hair, pulling him closer as if you could meld your bodies into one.

He pressed his body against yours, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, igniting every nerve ending. The world outside the alcove faded further away, leaving only the two of you in your own private universe.

“Just relax,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a soothing balm that eased your lingering tension. “Let me take care of you.”

You felt alive, every sensation heightened as he kissed a path down your neck, his lips soft and inviting against your skin. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm against you, and you felt a blush creep across your cheeks.

“Rain…” you breathed, your voice a mix of desire and awe.

“Just let it happen,” he urged, his eyes darkening with passion as he pulled back to look at you. “I want you to feel everything.”

As you melted into his embrace, the boundaries of uncertainty dissolved, leaving only the raw need that pulsed between you. The alcove felt like a sanctuary, a hidden world where nothing else mattered but the two of you and the fire that had ignited between you.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with a promise.

You nodded, feeling exhilarated and liberated. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Rain turned to face you, his expression a blend of mischief and earnest desire. “I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he admitted, his voice low and inviting, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

Your heart raced as he stepped closer, the air thick with unspoken promises. “Are you sure you want to do this?” you asked, needing to ensure he felt as ready as you did.

He smiled, a genuine warmth radiating from him. “More than anything. I want to share this with you, to show you how incredible it can be.”

As you nodded, giving him the reassurance he needed, Rain leaned in to kiss you again. His lips moved against yours with a delicious urgency, and you found yourself melting into the kiss, losing all sense of time and place.

With a gentle push, he guided you toward the bed, the soft fabric inviting and warm beneath you. The moment felt electric, every nerve ending alight with excitement and desire. Rain followed, hovering above you for a brief moment, his eyes searching yours as if to confirm that you were still on the same page.

“Are you ready?” he asked again, his voice a seductive whisper that made your breath hitch.

“Yes,” you breathed, feeling a mixture of exhilaration and nervous anticipation.

He leaned down, capturing your lips once more, deeper this time, as if he were savouring every moment. Rain’s hands found your waist, fingers dancing along the fabric of your clothes, teasing you, igniting a fire within you that had long been waiting to burst free.

As the kiss deepened, he began to explore your body with a gentle urgency, trailing his fingers along your sides, memorizing every curve. You felt your heart race, each touch sending shivers down your spine. The heat radiating from him made your skin tingle, and you could feel yourself responding to him instinctively.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his lips hovering close to yours, eyes dark with desire.

You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his question. “I want you, Rain. I want this.”

With that, he moved slowly, deliberately, his hands working to undress you, each piece of clothing falling away like petals from a flower. He took his time, his touch reverent as he revealed your skin to the cool air and his warm gaze.

You felt exposed yet incredibly safe under his scrutiny, as if he were worshipping you with every brush of his fingers. When he finally stripped away your last layer, a rush of vulnerability washed over you, but Rain's gaze was nothing but reverent.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed, and you felt your cheeks flush under his intense gaze.

Rain climbed onto the bed, positioning himself beside you, his body warm and inviting. He leaned in, kissing a path down your neck, your collarbone, and across your shoulders, making you gasp at the sensation.

Your hands tangled in his hair, urging him closer as you arched your back, desperate for more. “Please, Rain,” you whispered, your voice thick with longing.

His eyes met yours, filled with a promise that sent another rush of warmth through you. “I’ve got you,” he assured, his voice a low murmur against your skin.

The world outside faded completely as you surrendered to the moment, the weight of anticipation hanging in the air. With each kiss, each gentle caress, you felt the connection deepen, a dance of souls intertwining in a way that felt both primal and profoundly beautiful.

He unclothed himself in turn, and out came his cock. It was a gorgeous piece of Satan’s work, girthy, the tips glistening with pre-cum. 

“Well?” Rain cooed softly, his breath warm against your skin as he pulls back slightly, searching your eyes for clarity.

“I’m not sure,” you stutter slightly, the weight of his gaze sending your nerves spiraling. “I might need a drink.”

Rain’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, but then he chuckles softly, a sound that eases some of the tension in the air. “Is it your first time?” he asked gently, his voice filled with understanding.

You nod, a wave of vulnerability washing over you. “I’ve never… you know, with anyone. I’ve thought about it, but it’s always felt so overwhelming.”

His expression softens, and he brushes a stray hair behind your ear. “It’s okay. You don’t have to rush into anything you’re not ready for. We can take our time.” He pauses, his lips curving into a teasing smile. “But a drink sounds like a good idea. How about I grab us some wine to loosen things up?”

You feel a mix of relief and anticipation as he rises from the bed, revealing the strong lines of his body under the soft candlelight. The sight sends a thrill through you, reminding you just how much you desired him.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” you reply, your heart still racing, but the nervousness beginning to settle.

As Rain heads toward the small bar in the corner of the room, you take a moment to collect your thoughts, your gaze lingering on his graceful movements. He poured two glasses of deep red wine, the liquid swirling like liquid rubies in the soft glow of the candles.

Returning to the bed, he handed you a glass with a playful grin. “To new experiences,” he said, raising his glass to toast.

You clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing softly in the dim room. Taking a sip, the rich flavour flooded your senses, calming your nerves just a little more. You could feel the warmth of the wine spreading through you, igniting a gentle buzz that made you feel lighter.

“See? Not so bad, right?” Rain said, taking a sip of his own glass, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of warmth and desire.

“Not at all,” you replied, feeling emboldened by the drink and his encouraging presence. “It actually helps.”

With the tension easing, you set your glass down and met his gaze, the connection between you palpable. Rain leaned in closer, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Are you ready now?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the intoxicating mix of nerves and excitement swirl within you. “I think so.”

“Good,” he said softly, his lips brushing against yours once more, igniting the spark that had been building between you. “Just remember, we’ll go at your pace. I want you to feel comfortable.”

You hesitate at first, as you get down on your knees, you feel the pressure of the mattress on your knees.

Rain watches you intently, his expression a mix of desire and encouragement. “You’re doing great,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “Just breathe.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. The space between you feels charged with energy, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air. Rain shifts closer, and you can see the heat in his gaze, the way he wants you—truly wants you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone gentle, but you can sense the underlying urgency of his desire.

“I’m okay,” you reply, though your voice trembles slightly. The thrill of the moment fuels you, and you find comfort in the way he is looking at you, filled with a mix of affection and hunger.

Encouraged, you lean forward, placing your hands on his thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric. Rain's breath hitches slightly as you press your lips against his hip, a gentle kiss that sends a shiver through both of you.

“God, you’re perfect,” he whispers, his hands finding their way to your hair, fingers tangling softly in your locks. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now.”

His praise ignites a spark of confidence within you, and you smile against his skin before trailing your lips higher. The mattress shifts beneath you as you move, the world around you fading away until there’s only the two of you.

Rain pulls you closer, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “Just remember, we’re in this together,” he murmurs, his voice thick with longing. “You can stop at any time.”

With each kiss, the connection between you grows deeper, a mix of tenderness and heat that leaves you breathless. You feel the weight of your inhibitions melting away, replaced by an insatiable need to explore this new realm of intimacy with him.

With a surge of passion, you pull him closer, your lips crashing against his once more. The kiss deepens, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body as he presses you against the soft mattress. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this cocoon of desire and longing.

Rain’s hands wander, exploring the curves of your body with a gentle yet urgent touch. He trails his fingers down your arms, sending sparks of

“Let me show you how much I want you,” Rain murmured, and you can only nod, breathless with anticipation.

Suddenly, a ripple of energy coursed through the air around you. The warmth that enveloped Rain seemed to pulse and shift, as if he were harnessing some hidden power. The glimmer of moonlight cast shadows that danced across his skin, and in that moment, you felt an undeniable shift within him.

His form began to change, a soft glow emanating from his body. His blue hair flowed like water, shimmering as though touched by the moonlight itself. The ethereal beauty of his transformation captivated you, revealing his true essence as a water ghoul—a creature of both passion and depth.

“Rain…” you breathed, mesmerized by the display of magic, his very being shimmering with a captivating energy that intertwined with your own longing.

He leaned closer, his gaze locking onto yours, filled with a fierce intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “I want you to see all of me,” he said, his voice a low whisper that resonated deep within your core. “And I want to share everything I am with you.”

The air crackled with anticipation, the connection between your souls deepening as you surrendered to the moment. You could feel the power of his transformation wash over you like a gentle tide, drawing you into a world where boundaries dissolved and intimacy flourished.

As he moved against you, the heat between your bodies ignited into a roaring flame, each kiss, each touch, carrying the weight of your desires and the promise of what was to come.

With every caress, Rain revealed more of himself, his hands trailing along your skin, igniting a fire within you that was both exhilarating and all-consuming. You lost yourself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together, the world around you fading into a blur of sensation.

With every caress, Rain revealed more of himself, igniting a fire within you that was both exhilarating and all-consuming. As your bodies moved together, the world around you blurred into a haze of sensation, your connection deepening with each kiss.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes glimmering with an intensity that made your heart race.

 “I want to share everything with you,” he whispered, his voice thick with longing. The air around you seemed to shimmer with energy as he shifted, and you could feel the heat of his transformation pressing against you.

You caught your breath as you realized what was happening—a new aspect of his being emerging, a beautiful embodiment of both vulnerability and strength. Scars etched where his breasts had been – and –

You felt your pulse quickening, excitement and curiosity coursing through you as he spread his legs to reveal a smooth shaft, crowned with a sensitive head – dripping wet, perfectly capable of standing on its own.

“I’m…well…what you would call “transgender”. His voice no longer sultry. Was that a tinge of nervousness?

“That doesn’t matter to me, Rain.” You replied, trying to put him into ease.

His breath hitched as he stepped closer, feeling the electric tension in the air.

“But it does matter. I want you to understand—this isn’t just a detail I can brush aside.”

You paused, studying his face, searching for the truth in his eyes. “I’m here with you now. I want you, all of you.” You nodded, breathless, the sight before filling you with a mix of awe and desire. “It’s incredible,” you breathed, feeling a primal urge rise within you.

“Then let me show you just how good it can be,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine, guiding you into this new territory of intimacy.

“Can I?” you stared into the ocean that was his eyes, you felt a ripple of emotions wash you over. They were a rich, deep green, reminiscent of a sunlit seaweed garden, filled with life and secrets waiting to be uncovered. His irises shimmered with golden flecks, like moonlight dancing on the surface of a tranquil lagoon, illuminating the shadows of his past. They glowed with the softness of the twilight sky, casting a soothing light that calmed the storm of your nerves. The way his pupils expanded, dark as the ocean's depths, hinted at the mysteries of the deep.

He nodded, and wearily, your fingers traced the contours of his labia, exploring every inch as he let out a soft sigh, the sound sending shivers down your spine. The warmth of his skin felt like sunlight filtering through water, illuminating your senses and casting aside any lingering doubt.

“Is…this okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling your stomach churn slightly with anticipation and vulnerability.

“More than okay,” he breathed, his voice a gentle tide that washed over you, reassuring and inviting. His eyes sparkled with a depth that pulled you in like an undertow, filled with trust and longing.

With each delicate caress, you felt the connection deepen, a bond forming like the interwoven strands of seaweed beneath the waves. The air around you grew thick with tension, electric and alive, as you explored his softness, the rhythm of your breaths synchronized in this intimate dance.

His body responded, arching gently into your touch, as if seeking more of the comfort and warmth you offered. The gentle rise and fall of his chest mirrored the ebb and flow of the ocean, grounding you in the moment. You could sense the calmness in his gaze, a lighthouse guiding you through uncharted waters, illuminating the path ahead.

“Just like that,” he encouraged, a smile teasing the corners of his lips, and the confidence in his voice made you feel anchored, secure in your exploration. With each gentle stroke, you became more attuned to the waves of pleasure rippling between you, and the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in a sea of connection.

"Is it alright if I...?" you asked, voice steady but soft, meeting his gaze with assurance. A subtle smile played on your lips, the question lingering between you like a shared secret.

His eyes softened, a glimmer of excitement mingling with warmth. "More than alright," he murmured, his voice carrying an invitation that made your pulse quicken.

With a gentle nod, you closed the distance between you, your movements purposeful and attentive, each touch attuned to his responses. As your lips found his skin, you felt him relax, welcoming the moment with a sigh that reassured and encouraged you.

The sensation was electric, almost sinful in its intensity. It felt so good. Really good. Unholy, even.

A thrill shot through you, each movement igniting something deep and primal, stirring a desire that felt both thrilling and forbidden. The way your bodies fit together, the warmth, the closeness—it was a connection that felt as though it defied some sacred boundary, yet was all the more irresistible for it. Every touch, every sigh, echoed in the quiet, filling the space with a shared, undeniable need that felt both exhilarating and deliciously illicit. Was it really that easy?

You paused, curiosity flickering through your mind as you noticed the dampness on his flesh. He was already wet, his skin glistening under the low light, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was part of his water ghoul nature or something else entirely. It added an enticing mystery to the moment, a reminder of the otherworldly connection between you—a mix of the familiar and the unknown that made each second feel like a revelation. With a steady breath, you leaned in, allowing the moment to guide you as you took him in, letting your instincts lead. The warmth and closeness sent a ripple of excitement through you both, each touch amplifying the connection between you. His breath caught as you moved, and you could feel him responding, the subtle reactions spurring you on. You leaned in closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him as your lips brushed against his labia, sending a wave of heat coursing through your body. The taste was a tantalizing mix of saltiness and sweetness—a unique blend that lingered on your tongue, igniting a primal hunger within you. Each gentle kiss sent shivers down your spine, amplifying the desire that swelled between you.

The softness beneath your mouth felt luxurious and inviting, the delicate texture responsive to your touch. You could feel the gentle rise and fall of his body as you explored, the skin warm and supple against your lips. It was as if each caress created a spark, connecting you both in a tangible way, drawing you deeper into the moment.

As you began to suck gently, a rush of warmth enveloped you both, creating an intoxicating cocoon of intimacy. You felt him arch slightly into your mouth, his breath hitching, each gasp a melody that resonated within you. The taste intensified, mingling with the heat of the moment, and you savored the way he responded, the soft tremors of pleasure that rippled through his body.

Your mouth moved with deliberate care, exploring the contours with a tenderness that spoke volumes. You could hear the soft gasps escaping his lips, the sounds of pleasure mingling with the rhythm of your breaths, creating a symphony of intimacy that filled the space around you. Each subtle shift and sigh deepened the connection, a silent conversation that transcended words and drew you both into a world of shared ecstasy.

The air was thick with anticipation, the atmosphere electric with the chemistry buzzing between your bodies. The faint scent of his skin mingled with the heady aroma of desire, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Every sensation was heightened—the soft brush of his skin against your lips, the tantalizing taste that filled your mouth, and the rhythmic cadence of your shared breaths.

As you continued, you felt his body responding, each gentle movement drawing you closer together. The world outside faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you locked in this intimate dance. You were engulfed in a haze of warmth and desire, every second stretching into eternity as you lost yourself in the pleasure of the moment, savoring the exquisite closeness that enveloped you both.

Every movement was deliberate, savouring the closeness and the way he softened into your touch, grounding you in the intimacy of the moment. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you, locked in a shared rhythm that felt like the deepest form of understanding. You felt his breath quicken beneath your touch, his body tense as you moved with a steady rhythm, sensing him drawing closer to the edge. Each reaction—a subtle twitch, a soft gasp—spurred you on, heightening your own anticipation. There was something deeply rewarding in feeling him lose control, his usual guarded composure melting away as he gave in to the sensations.

As he reached his peak, a surge of warmth and satisfaction coursed through you, his release mirrored in your own sense of connection. His hand rested gently on your shoulder, fingers tightening slightly as his body trembled, and you stayed close, grounding him through the aftershocks. In that moment, the intimacy and trust you shared felt profound, leaving a quiet, shared warmth that lingered long after.

“Unholy Mother, Rain”

“Unholy Mother,” he gasped, his voice thick with disbelief and pleasure, each word laced with the weight of the moment. His body shuddered against you, the connection between you both electrifying and deeply intimate.

You could feel his heartbeat, rapid and powerful, matching the rush of emotions swirling within you. His fingers dug into your shoulder, anchoring himself to the moment as the aftershocks of ecstasy rolled through him. The air around you was charged with an intensity that left you both breathless, the world outside fading away.

“Did that feel as good for you as it did for me?” he managed to say, a breathy laugh escaping his lips, still riding the waves of pleasure.

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “It felt incredible,” you replied, your voice steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through you. The trust you shared in that moment was palpable, a silent understanding that transcended words, leaving you both suspended in a blissful afterglow.

[alien-hybreed]

CITATION NEEDED

Project Scryer Ascendant.

It was supposed to be an unprecedented study of an extraterrestrial parasite. An opportunity to study the parasites and a living host, the first to ever be successfully captured and held in captivity. Or so we thought.

Over the course of a week, Dr Sydney Carlisle and her team are irreversibly changed by what they discover...

This story was inspired by @monsterlovingforscience and the alien 'research' they encouraged.

DR S. CARLISLE Personal Log -  1610 hours, 03/27/2049

The handheld camera bumps and shudders as it is set down in a hurry. Visible is what appears to be an office or quarters. It's minimalist walls are airbrushed steel panels with a clinical white and grey colour scheme. Several large scientific books line a bookshelf to the right. In front of it, the camera comes into focus on a woman.

Her black hair is dishevelled, frizzy, matted in places by streaks of thick, white mucus. Her white coat is torn and fraying in several spots. Her chest rises and falls in rapid bursts and her shallow, ragged breaths can be clearly heard. The top four buttons on her pale lavender blouse are missing, allowing her slime covered chest to peak put from her sweat soaked top.

"This... is s-senior project lead... Dr Sydney... Carlisle" she stammers between breaths "and I'm transmitting this final log because it might... it will be the last thing I ever say."

Several loud thumps can be heard coming from outside the room. There is a harsh, grating squeal as something seems to be clawing at the door to the room. Dr Sydney Carlisle let's out a terrified cry and begins to sob, shaking her head from side to side.

"We thought we could contain it... we thought if we studied it, if we understood it..." she murmurs with a terrible, haunted look in her eyes. Outside the room, the shrieking and thumping seems to grow louder, what seemed like inhuman barking almost sounds like its calling Dr Carlisle by name.

"Alex... Nora... Jaime... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want this. Not like this." Sobs Dr Carlisle, burying her head in her hands. "It used them. I'm so sorry..."

"SSSSSYDNEEEY" "COME" "SYDNNNNNEEEEY" "JOIN" "JOIN USSSS" "SYDNNNNEEEEEY" Shriek a trio of voices over the thumping and scratching. Dr Carlisle buries her head in her hand and screams. Her scream turns into a wet hacking cough as she looks up at the camera, eyes wide with fear.

"Oh God it's in me. It's... in... meeee..." she wails as she begins to dry-reach. With a horrible heave, a thick splatter of white slime oozes from her mouth.

"Whatever you do... don't-" before she can finish, another spatter of slime wells up in her throat as her teeth and jawbone seem to bulge. The video abruptly cuts. There are several seconds of the camera getting bumped around, dropping in and out of focus as the recording is repeatedly switched on and off. In the garbled sections of footage, there are glimpses claws and teeth. Thick trails of slime spattering across what looks like an exposed human thigh, breast, or mouth. Pink flesh darkening and hardening. All the while screams of protest and monstrous shrieks chanting Dr Carlisle's name cut in and out.

Eventually, the camera seems to stabilise. As it comes in to focus, we can see this is a larger, more open room. It's only light source seems to be the dim glow of the red emergency lighting. The walls are obscured by what seems to be thick streaks or clumps of dark green matter that glistens in the low-light. Amidst it, is what was once Dr Sydney Carlisle.

Her entire body, save for her waist, chest, neck and mouth seems to be sheathed in thick, black chitin. Her exposed skin is deathly white, her veins dark and purple, clearly visible beneath her ghostly skin. Her lips are black and full, glistening with slime dripping from her gaping mouth. The chitin sheathing her is pronounced, sharp, lined with ridges where each segment overlaps the next. A large, skeletal tail thrashes between her elongated legs.

Before her are three similar female creatures, identical slave for slight variations in the size and shape of their exposed chest and mouth sections. Otherwise their chitin is identical, as is their pale skin and dark veins. The three of them seem to gasp and cry out as they stare up at Dr Carlisle, touching their own lips, breasts and crotches as though they were pleasuring themselves at the sight of her.

Behind the inhuman Dr Carlisle, looms an enough creature. It's chitin is the same I'm appearance and structure, yet broader. More pronounced. In place of an exposed feminine chest, it sports a muscular, male torso and a thickset jaw. It purrs loudly as it runs an enormous hand over Carlisle's exposed abdominals. Her waist shudders and an enormous phallus can be seen extending from the creature, into her vagina. The organ undulating wildly as thick streams of its semen cascade from where the organs meet.

"Oh... God. Oh fuck..." moans Dr Carlisle as the last of her human teeth seem to lengthen into fangs, her voice reaching a high pitched shriek as she climaxes. The creature behind her continues to purr as it reaches up to stroke the exposed flesh of her cheek.

"Joinnnn... usss..." crow the threw female creatures on the ground

"Yesss... join... ussss..." moans Dr Carlisle. Even though her chitin fully encloses the rest of her head, hiding her eyes, she is staring directly into the camera.

"Joinnn... usssssss..." she hisses with a rapturous sigh.

* * *

DR S CARLISLE Transit Log - 0945 hours, 03/19/2049

Received 5 specimens for project Scryer Ascendant at 0900 hours. 4 Alpha-class specimens 1 Beta-class specimen

Alpha Class specimen is believed to be stage one lifeform of project Scryer Ascendant. Class 2 containment protocols are in full effect with each specimen individually stored in airtight, toughened glass containers at a temperature of 50 degrees Fahrenheit or below. This has proven to sufficiently slow the specimen's metabolism to incapacitate it without causing harm.

Beta-class specimen, dubbed Beta-0001, requires a steady stream of sedative to keep it calm. Allegedly it becomes quite hostile and will violently thrash about it's container if the sedative were to cease and it detected humans in its immediate vicinity.

Beta-0001 is the first documented instance of a Beta-class specimen to be successfully taken into captivity and is deemed a priority 1 asset.

All terms and conditions agreed to by all staff present, per the attached report.

Signed off

Dr Sydney Carlisle, Head of Research, Project Scryer Ascendant

* * *

DR J. SAUNDERS  Initial Report on Specimen arrival - 1030 hours, 03/19/2049

Project Scryer Ascendant arrived this morning without issue. The 4 Alpha-class Specimens and Single Beta-class Specimen appear indifferent and undisturbed by the transfer. All diagnostics on containment cells are satisfactory. Temperatures in cells are holding steady at 44-48 degrees Fahrenheit. Beta-0001 seems remarkably lucid despite the volume of sedative being pumped into it during transit, despite the absence of eyes, I could swear it stared right at me the entire time it was unloaded and moved to Specimen Containment.

* * *

DR. A. DIO Alpha Research Log - 1600 hours, 03/20/2049

Initial analysis of Alpha-class specimen 0001 Despite possessing external carapace, the creature possesses an internal skeletal structure. Initial presumptions the specimen might share similar attributes to terrestrial insects is now disputed within the team. Underside of specimen 0001 appears highly sensitive, contact with external stimuli to exposed flesh seems to increase awareness and activity. Analysis concluded ahead of schedule as specimen 0001 grew increasingly restless and radical temperature decrease was required to subdue it. Dr Carlisle has advocated using Specimen 0002 tomorrow so as not to further agitate 0001.

* * *

DR S. CARLISLE Beta Research Log - 1700 hours, 03/20/2049

Beta-class Specimen, intial diagnostics. Beta-0001 per project outlines is the result of unprotected human exposure to an Alpha-class specimen. In assessing Beta-0001, it is important to establish the particulars of both human and non-human elements.

Human component of Beta-0001 is visibly male.

Beta-class specimen displays increased cognitive awareness from Alpha-class specimens but seemingly less than that of the average human. Beta-0001 appears to be instinctive. Primal. Rudimentary at best

Curiously, eyes and ears are obscured by the carapace sheathing the front of the host's head. This leads us to believe that Beta-0001 either relies on other forms of perception such as pheromone trails, scent and heat. Or it's eyes are somehow able to see through the carapace like a two-way mirror.

Beta-0001 is certainly able to perceive us. It seems keenly aware of our position, following our movements with its eyeless stare. It seems particularly fixated on Dr Saunders for reasons we've yet to determine.

Returning specimen to containment ahead of further study.

* * *

DR A. DIO Internal Email to N. Ashmore - 1830 hours, 03/25/2049

"Good Evening Nora,

Has Jaime been poking around about Beta-0001 again? She spent practically all of our lunch hour talking to me about it yesterday and again today.

She seems particularly concerned about the properties of its chemical output, how it interacts with an unprotected human, etc.

She's trying to be casual about it but you know what her poker face is like.

Just... getting worried maybe the more to what happened the day Dr Carlisle reassigned her. If there's a possible quarantine breach, we have to act accordingly.

Regards

A Dio"

Reply from Dr Nora Ashmore, 48 minutes later

"Hey Alex, Haha yeah, that girl is practically free money. Her bluffing is terrible.

That said, I'm not sure? We make conversation about the specimens while we work. Seems perfectly normal conversation to me, naturally how the Alpha-class interact with host forms and what that means for Beta-0001 is going to come up.

That said... she is very attentive with the specimens. I'll run it by Dr Carlisle, just in case.

Cheers,

N. Ashmore"

* * *

DR J SAUNDERS Beta Research Log - 1630 hours, 03/22/2049

Beta-0001 review in progress.

Subject is just over 9 days post exposure to Alpha-class specimen. While Beta-class specimens have been observed in the wild, this is the first documented instance of a successful capture and study.

Immediately, there is a notable difference in how the specimen dubbed Beta-0001 is pacified. Unlike Alpha-class specimens which are highly sensitive to extreme temperatures, Beta-0001 appears completely uninhibited by low temperatures. While significantly low temperature appears to trigger a pain response, it does not slow Beta-0001.

Instead, traditional human sedatives are used to slow or incapacitate Beta-0001.

Presumably this is because it is still for the most part, human. However alterations to the host body by Alpha-class specimen means that its metabolism processes and expels the sedative much faster than humanly possible. To slow Beta-0001 and render it docile requires an equivalent dose to what could subdue eight full-grown humans for several hours. To induce complete unconsciousness requires almost twice that amount.

In assessing the creature's physical attributes, it is easy to differentiate the Alpha-class specimen from it's host at face value. Host is human male, middle aged, physical fitness suggests an athletic profession. Probably a servicemen. Where the Alpha-class specimen has bonded, there are visible punctures and suturing of the flesh. The Alpha-class Specimen's carapace appears to not only grow to accommodate the size and shape of the host but also pushes through the host's flesh to graft itself to their skeletal structure. The Alpha-class Specimen's tentacles also appear to extend into the host's body, though they seem to merge seamlessly with the exposed flesh of the host form.

The mouth, neck, chest, wait and pelvis of the host are still visible and human in appearance. Their limbs, head and back are sheathed in shiny, black carapace. This appears to be the Alpha-class specimen merged with the host body. The longer it remains attached, the more pronounced and angular the carapace seems to become.

Host form displays discoloured, pale skin. It appears deceased though there is no odor or visible rot to indicate decomposition. Darkened veins are visible, suggesting an absence of red blood cells. Perhaps the darkening of the veins indicates changes to host's circulatory system. Dr Carlisle infers it is likely blood cells are hijacked by the Alpha-class specimen and used to sustain the host form. We have drawn three blood sample for testing. This agitated Beta-0001 considerably, it has been sedated and stored ahead of schedule so as to not agitate it further.

Further testing will resume tomorrow.

* * *

DR A DIO Internal Email to S. Carlisle - 2048 hours, 03/25/2049

"Good Evening Sydney,

Strictly off-the-record, you're right about Jaime. Especially in the last day or so, her questions pertaining to the Beta-class specimen have been... unorthodox.

And very specific.

I know we all get a background check but I have to question whether someone either didn't pick up on her tendencies or if they foolishly thought it wouldn't be a conflict of interest?"

* * * DR J. SAUNDERS Personal Memo - 1830 hours, 03/25/2049

I think they know. Everyone has started treating me differently, I think Sydney found out. Her and Nora go way back so obviously she knows too. It feels like Alex is the only person I can trust. If she finds out too, I expect that will change. With me outed like that, this will all be for nothing.

* * *

DR J. SAUNDERS Beta Research Log - 1720 hours, 03/23/2049

Beta-0001 Bloodwork and fluid analysis

Initial blood tests on Beta-0001 show a parasitic structure to its blood cells. For lack of a better description, we are observing two forms of blood cells. The first appears to be the typical human red blood cell, grafted to it is an alien protoplasm consistent with what we have retrieved from both 'blood' and 'saliva' in Alpha-class specimens. The protoplasm appears to attach to the red blood cells and alter their make-up at a genetic level to behave like viral cells. At this point they are now purple blood cells that seem to methodically produce blue blood cells that despite appearing human, are comprised entirely of the alien protoplasm.

This supports Dr Carlisle's theory that the Alpha-class specimen represses the host's biology in it' entirety, leaving only vague cosmetic similarity.

We have proceeded to collect samples of saliva, perspiration and semen from Beta-0001 to further investigate how extensive this repurposing may be. These samples were easily obtained, primarily as Beta-0001 seems to constantly secrete copious amounts of saliva, even when incapacitated. It also sweat profusely, particularly when being examined, I have inferred this is based on contact and proximity to potential host forms. Dr Carlisle is adamant it is merely a side-effect of the metabolic changes the host is experiencing.

The semen sample was unintentional. While collecting sweat directly from Beta-0001's exposed thigh, my proximity to its genitalia seemed to excite the subject. The movements of my gloved hand reportedly made it's penis stiffen an ejaculate. Once Dr Carlisle and I overcame our initial surprise, I volunteered to collect the sample before it coagulated entirely. In doing so, the movement of my gloved hand near and on the engorged phallus further excited Beta-0001 who was subsequently pacified and returned to storage.

In its aroused state, Beta-0001 required an unprecedented level of sedative to subdue it.  Samples have been forwarded to Dr Dio for further study.

* * *

DR S. CARLISLE Email to N. Ashmore and A. Dio marked High Importance - 1900 hours, 03/23/2049

As of Today, Dr J. Saunders is to be moved from Beta-class specimen analysis to Alpha-class specimen analysis. Effective immediately.

Today while collecting samples, I have reason to believe she deliberately provoked the creature to become aroused. By exciting Beta-0001 she put both of us at risk of biological contamination by an unknown potential transmission vector secreted by Beta-0001.

Dr Alex Dio will preside over all subsequent study of the Beta-class specimen.

* * *

EXAM ROOM 3 CCTV LOG 1238 hours, 03/27/2049

The lab CCTV slowly flicker back on following an hour long outage. A red alert light flashes in the corner of the screen to indicate unauthorised activity. Standing in front of the examination table is Dr J. Saunders. She is completely naked, arms hanging limp by her sides. Her head droops to one side her mouth hanging open as she appears to stand motionless in a catatonic state. Behind her, the Beta specimen is bolted to the examination table.

Beta-0001's arms and legs strain. One by one, the metal cuffs fastening it to the table snap, it's limbs popping free as it pulls itself from the table. Dr Saunders doesn't even flinch, standing completely still as the creature rises to its feet behind her. As it stands, Beta-0001 reaches out to stroke Jaime's cheek and tilt her head back. Moving like she is in a trance, she slowly leans back to let the creature kiss her long and full, squarely on her lips.

Nearly a full minute passes as Beta-0001's lips prise Jaime's apart, it's tongue visibly sloshing around in her mouth before it retracts. Slowly, Jaime falls to her knees. She appears to murmur something repeatedly. Her lips forming the word "join" over and over as she reaches up to stroke the creature's pulsating shaft. The lights and camera briefly flicker off. As they come back on, the lab is bathed in the dim red glow of the emergency lights. Beta-0001 drops into a crouch, backing away from the near catatonic Dr Saunders. Jaime's head lolls forward, slowly turning to look in the direction of the door to the lab. Slowly, she lies down, face first as an Alpha-class specimen scuttles into view.

The lighting flickers again as does the camera. Jaime can be seen writhing on the ground with the Alpha-class specimen pressed against her back. It's tendrils and legs flail wildly as it plunges them into her arms, legs, vagina, ass and mouth. It's smaller limbs digging into the back of her rib cage. It quickly becomes apparent that her squirming isn't resistance, but rather pleasure. Her hips grind against the floor as the tendrils in her orifices all begin to undulate, pumping an alien secretion into her shuddering body. Where it's legs are wriggling into her limbs, it's carapace seems to be extending, growing to form a protective sheath over her body.

Beta-0001 steps back into focus, seemingly admiring the process of the Alpha-class Specimen fusing to Dr Saunders. It looks up at the camera, almost staring directly into the viewer's eyes as its cock trickles with thick pre-cum. Jaime's arms and legs seem to stretch as the carapace grows around her.

* * *

DR N. ASHMORE  Personal Email to <private> - 2147 hours, 03/20/2049

"Hope this finds you well old friend,

We're working on something really exciting at the moment. Genuine opportunity of a lifetime stuff.

We're currently entertaining some guests at home that are truly out of this world, I'm sure you'd love to get to know them.

You know the drill.

N."

Reply received 1 hour later.

"It's been too long N,

You're right. We'd love to get to know your guests. We'd be very interested in entertaining them for a while, if you'd care to send over some particulars so that we can make the necessary arrangements - I'm sure you'd find we can be very accommodating.

X"

* * *

DR S CARLISLE Internal Email to N. Ashmore - 2100 hours, 03/26/2049

Hi Alex,

Further to previous conversations about Jaime's conduct, has she continued to make unusual enquiries about Beta-0001 and its properties?

I've begun to suspect her interests may not be as personal as we initially suspected. There's some highly irregular traffic on her personal email and browsing history I'm awaiting a detailed report on.

She tried talking to me about Beta-0001 today and admittedly, I may have overstepped. I didn't accuse her outright but she did take umbridge with me for querying her integrity. When she tried to counter... well I told her to go and get fucked. She stormed off at that and I haven't seen her since? Please let me know if you have any further contact with her.

Regards,

S Carlisle"

* * *

PERSONAL RECORDING - J. SAUNDERS Mobile Camera Footage - 1140 hours, 03/27/2049

The camera flickers on, showing the examination room. On a table in front of the camera, the Beta Specimen can be seen strapped onto an examination table in the centre of the shot. It's wrists and ankles secured by the heavy, metal cuffs mounted in the table. Its humanoid chest and crotch facing up in clear view of the camera.

"Hey you at home... yeah. You." Purrs Jaime from off-screen, putting on a sultry voice. "It's yaa gurl Jazz, back for one last ride" she continues as she steps into the shot, swathed in a towel and wearing nothing else.

"I know I said I was done filming with men, but as you can see. My friend here?" At that, she slides a hand up the creature's lock, affectionately squeezing the creature's carapace before reaching the pale flesh of it's inner thigh. It's exposed cock immediately twitches in response, rapidly beginning to swell.

"Well he's going to be... out of this world..." she sighs with a wicked grin, dropping her towel to reveal her super model physique. Gracefully, Jaime begins to dance, slowly rolling her hips and shoulders, swaying from side to side as she saunters her way up onto the table. For a minute, she gyrates above its lap, touching herself as she lowers herself towards its engorged member.

"Earlier today, my boss told me to go and get fucked" chuckled the naked scientist "so this is me. Getting fucked." At that, she winked at the camera and dropped her hips. The creature's cock immediately pressed deep into her entrance, its balls rapidly swelling as the creature jerked its hips up to meet her.

"Oooh. Feisty one, isn't he?" She chuckled, swivelling her hips with a well-practiced motion that draws attention to the creature's shaft as it glides in and out of her.

"What do sat we uhhh... uhh.. ah... AH!" She trails off into a squeal as her body suddenly goes rigid. The cock throbbing in her seems to rapidly swell and shoot up into her dripping, wet entrance.

"Nnn-no... this isn't sposed... n-no!" She croaks, struggling in vain to pull herself from the wildly pulsating member. Her eyes widen, pupils expanding as fear and something else begins to overwhelm her.

"No! No No No! I can't! I... I...uhhh..." she moans in protest as her body slackens. Her eyes roll back until only their whites are showing. Her jaw slackens, drooling as her mouth gapes open. Involuntarily, as if possessed by a mind of their own, her hips begin flexing, vigorously pounding down on the creature's cock for what seems like an eternity. Fifty four minutes and thirty eight seconds, to be precise, of the same continuous imagery.

Ten minutes in, the lighting dims to the red glow of the emergency lights. Neither Jaime or Beta-0001 respond or alter their actions in any way. The same moans and wet slapping sounds. The same motion, over and over as more and more of the creature's seed seems to seep from her and pool on the table beneath them. Finally, the camera's battery runs flat and the screen goes dark.

* * *

DR A. DIO Chemical Research Log - 1400 hours, 03/22/2049

Data further reinforces our understanding that a human exposed to an Alpha-class specimen undergoes considerable internal change as well as external. Despite retaining human appearance on the exposed mouth, chest and genitalia, all of these now function differently.

At some stage in the transformation, human teeth are elongated into fangs by rapid redistribution of calcium and some chain reaction triggered by alteration to the host's saliva. Exactly how this is achieved requires further study. The tongue also seems to experience rapid growth, becoming longer. Additional muscle growth makes it more dexterous and remarkably strong. The tongue now seems to be capable of fulfilling the same function as an Alpha-class specimen's primary tentacles, secreting a thick, viscous fluid.

This fluid is best described as a paralytic sedative that seems to exist weaken and even incapacitate. Presumably, this makes prospective hosts easier targets for an Alpha-class specimen.

The genitalia also sees rapid reconfiguration as regular human semen production seems to cease. The ejaculate that it does produce appears to be a completely sterile, produced as a vestige of human function rather than serving a purpose within the specimen's reproductive cycle. We have speculated this is performed by a secondary phallic organ that seems to remain retracted unless the creature is in proximity to one of its own kind.

We have noted that on each occasion that an Alpha-class specimen is brought within a few meters of Beta-0001, this organ becomes increasingly active and begins to emerge and secrete what we believe is a completely alien fluid used to produce new Alpha-class specimens. How it performs this, remains unknown.

Further study of Beta-0001 is required along with cross-referencing study of Alpha-class specimens.

* * *

SPECIMEN CONTAINMENT SECURITY LOGS Full Report, range 03/27/2049 -03/27/2049

Alpha-class Specimen 0002 returned by Dr S. Carlisle. 1120 hours Alpha-class Specimen 0001 checked out by Dr N. Ashmore 1120 hours Beta Class Specimen 0001 checked out by Dr J. Saunders 1128 hours Beta-class specimen 0001 checked in at examination room 3 by Dr J. Saunders 1132 hours Alpha-class specimen 0003 checked out by Dr A. Dio 1140 hours Alpha-class Specimen 0002 checked out by Dr S. Carlisle. 1145 hours Alpha-class Specimen 0002 returned by Dr S. Carlisle. 1146 hours Alpha-class specimen 0002 records containment breach at 1150 hours Security lock instated by Dr A Dio at 1155 hours Security override entered by Dr S. Carlisle at 1155 hours Alpha-class specimen 0004 checked out by Dr N Ashmore at 1207 hours *Security override countermands breach lockout protocols* *no further activity*

* * *

DR N. ASHMORE Alpha Research Log - 1340 hours, 03/23/2049

Further emphasising Alpha-class specimen's non-terrestrial nature, scans have failed to establish any central brain or cerebral matter. The creature's nervous system instead extends from its body into each of its eight legs and seven tentacles.

The highest concentration of nerve-endings is clustered around its 'mouth' and 'head'. This dome-like section of carapace appears to fasten to the head of a prospective host, so it is logical that this higher concentration of nerve tissue is used to connect with the brain of the host.

Dr Dio has speculated the creature may retain the host's cerebral matter to expand its own consciousness and pilot the more complex functions of its host body. What we know and have observed of Beta-0001suggests that an Alpha-class specimen will take on behaviours of its host form when it becomes Beta-class. Whether this is an adaptive hunting instinct or an attempt to blend in, remains unclear.

* * *

DR J. SAUNDERS Alpha Research Log - 1630 hours, 03/24/2049

On the underside of all Alpha-class specimens, is a fleshy underbelly lined with what was mistakenly identified as tiny bristles. These are in fact, smaller versions of the seven tentacles sprouting from the creature's carapace. These tiny tendrils are roughly an inch long, needle-thin and incredibly tense, giving the appearance of course hairs.

Under extremely controlled circumstances, Dr Ashmore has been able to coerce these mini-tendrils into moving. They seem drawn towards tissue containing nerve endings and will begin secreting a thick, clear fluid if they can be tricked into thinking they have breached the skin of a prospective host. Further reinforcing the hypothesis that these are what the Alpha-class specimen uses to bond to a host, we observed that upon failure to connect to a viable nervous system, the tendrils are retracted in favour of resuming the search for a viable host.

CCTV LOG Corridor 3 - 1520 hours, 03/27/2049

Dr Alex Dio can be seen slipping out of her white lab coat as she steps through a bulkhead door that hasn't even finished opening, to enter the corridor. Her stride slows as specimen Beta-0001 advances toward her from the opposite end of the corridor. She holds her hand up, as if to halt the creature. At first, the creature's stride seems to slow and Alex can be seen slowly getting onto her knees, arms held above her head in surrender.

Beta-0001 steps forward, blocking the camera's view of Alex. Her hands can be seen gently resting on its hips as her head begins bobbing up and down near its waist. The creature leans back and appears to let out a long growl or howl before reaching down to press its hand against the back of Alex's head. It's hips start to flex as it begins to violently thrust its cock down her throat. Alex's hands clench and begin scrambling against the smooth surface of the creature's black chitin. Eventually her hands squeeze into fists, beating against the creature's thighs in vain.

After a few minutes, her hands fall to the ground, limp, motionless. Fountains of thick white slime gush from between the creature's leg as Alex's head begins to bob again. Eventually the creature pulls free, stepping back and allowing Alex to be fully visible again. The front of her blouse is caked in slime, the same fluid dripping from her mouth as it hangs open. Her face is completely blank as she sits motionless in a near catatonic state.

A second Beta-class specimen crawls into view. Hunched over on all fours, it cautiously makes its way to Alex's side. The newcomer is identical to the first Beta-class specimen except her figure is more slender, her exposed human features distinctly feminine and eerily close to those of Dr Nora Ashmore. The female Beta reaches out, gently touching Alex's chin to tilt her head up. Alex slowly moves her mouth and lips, as if she is struggling to plead. The second Beta smiles a wicked grin, revealing her long fangs in place of her human teeth. She licks her lips as Alex tries to mimic her.

As the women draw closer, the first Beta specimen clasps the rump of Dr Ashmore's shiny black legs and pulls her hips towards his. It's cock unfurls, writhing it's way into her from behind. Dr Ashmore gasps before seizing Alex, pushing her under her all while furiously kissing her open mouth. In no time at all, the female Beta has ripped Alex's blouse open, cast aside her pants and torn her underwear open. She hungrily roams Alex's body, kissing and licking her neck, squeezing and sucking her tits. Her elongated tongue can be seen playing with Alex's nipple in several frames of footage.

Alex lies limp beneath the two Beta specimens, weakly gyrating against the female while the male repeatedly climaxes in both of the women. At first it seems as though the creature is alternating between them. But when Dr Ashmore pulls herself free, her exposed belly swollen and distended, a secondary penis can be seen vibrating in Dr Dios's exposed vagina. Throwing an arm over the Beta specimen's shoulder, Dr Dio pulls herself up just enough to expose her back to the eagerly awaiting Alpha-class specimen that is entering the corridor.

Alex appears to cry out "Do it" as she orgasms.

The Alpha-class specimen leaps onto her, rapidly fusing with her spine as its tendrils rapidly cast aside the tattered remains of her clothing before plunging into her. As she writhes and transforms, Dr Ashmore and Beta-0001 both appear to look directly into the camera and smile.

* * *

CCTV LOG Specimen Containment - 1150 hours, 03/27/2049

Dr Alex Dio enters the area. She moves to check out Alpha-class specimen 0002 when the creature suddenly leaps forward, knocking the hatch to its containment Unit wide open. Dr Dio shrieks and stumbles backwards as the creature rushes toward her. She reaches for the emergency override but misses as she trips and falls.

The creature pounces as Dr Dio rolls onto her back. The creature's tendrils whip around her arms as she tries to hold it off. It's flailing legs snag on her coat as it tries to pull itself onto her. She appears to keep her mouth clamped shut, straining not to scream as one of its tendrils slithers around and against her lips. For a moment, it appears to penetrate her lips, a thick dribble of white fluid dripping from the corner of her mouth before she brings her knees up to push the creature away, dislodging it's tentacle from her mouth.

At that moment, Dr Carlisle enters the room in a hurry and dives for a weapon in the security locker by the door. The two women scream continuously as Dr Carlisle races to load, cock and fire the standard-issue service pistol. Several bullets tear into the Alpha-class specimen, its black-blue ichor spattering across the floor as it spasms and collapses in a heap.

Dr Carlisle carefully approaches Dr Dio and helps her up, seeming to ask if she had any contact with the creature, if it got anything on her. Dr Dio shakes her head and seems to be trying to keep the spatter of white slime on her coat out of sight. When Dr Carlisle notices, she tries to force Dr Dio buy is pushed aside. Dr Dio makes a break for the door, closing it behind her. Dr Carlisle fires two more shots that go wide, pinging off the outside corridor as the door shuts.

Dr Carlisle moves to start punching her authorisation code in a keypad by the door. The door slowly opens as lighting dims to the red hue of the emergency lights. Carlisle races to the outside corridor. Several seconds later, there are two flashes of gunfire. Then nothing.

* * *

DR S. CARLISLE Internal Email to N. Ashmore - 2110 hours, 03/23/2049

"Nora,

Thank you for voicing your concern about the integrity of project Scryer Ascendant. Forgive the formal acknowledgement of an otherwise casual conversation, but given the severity of its potential outcomes, you realise I do need to put this in writing.

As such, in response to the noted unusual behaviours and the noted increase in personal email usage, I have arranged unrestricted temporary access to the internal Intranet and outgoing communications.

If one of the team is breaching their NDA or engaging in unauthorised activity, there's no one more capable of getting to the bottom of it.

Happy hunting,

Sydney"

* * *

DR N. ASHMORE Internal Email to S. Carlisle - 2143 hours, 03/26/2049

"Heya Syd,

So the more I've looked into it, I think you're more right to have your suspicions than you realise.

It's not Jaime or Alex. Something is up with both of them.

Looks like Jaime is about to turn in her resignation and that coincides with a massive deposit to a bank account she's accessing. There's also a lengthy email trail between her and an off-site address discussing our guests.

Something is up with Alex too. A ton of emails between her and a private Head Office file. My gut says HR. She's been talking to Jaime a lot the last few days... I'd wager it's a bullying allegation?"

"Cheers Nora.

At least someone has my back. Don't worry about Jaime and Alex. Nothing we can't handle.

Maybe take tomorrow off? Seems it might be an eventful day in the labs.

Thanks,

Syd."

* * *

CCTV LOG N. Ashmore, Personal Quarters - 1150 hours, 03/27/2049

Camera shows Nora showering in the cubicle located in her bathroom. On the periphery of the camera, something can be seen moving across the ceiling. Nora is lathered in soap, her eyes held firmly shut as she fails to notice the limbs and tentacles scuttling across the ceiling above her.

As she begins lathering her hair with shampoo, the shape can be seen crawling down the wall of the shower. The thin insect-like legs, shiny black body and mass of writhing black tentacles leaves no room for doubt this is an Alpha-class specimen. Free of its containment, creature is drawn to the warmth of the shower and the even warmer body within. It's tentacles wiggle with greater vigour as it draws closer, it's legs raised like a spider ready to pounce.

Nora turns to face the creature pounces, opening her eyes and appearing to scream as it leaps forwards. Recoiling, she slips as the creature springs towards her. Her shoulder strikes the glass of the shower cubicle, causing it to fracture as she collapses. As she falls, the creature's tendrils whip around her outstretched arms. Writhing on the floor of the shower, she struggles as the creature pulls itself close to her body. She appears to scream several times before the creature spews a torrent of white slime over her mouth and chest. She sputters and coughs, shuddering as her arms begin to slacken.

One by one, the creature's tendrils begin to punch their way into her orifices, its legs sliding into the flesh above her ribs and on her limbs. Her body begins to shiver as it is wracked by intense sensations. Her hips quiver as they begin to slowly gyrate against the tentacle pulsating inside her vagina. For several minutes, she lies in the shower, squirming in the creature's grip as it begins visibly fusing to her. Her eyes begin to roll as its carapace begins extending across her arms, legs and back. With a final, twitching kick, she appears to orgasm and pass out, thick streams of slime dripping from her mouth and vagina as the creature continues to fuse with her. The lights and footage flicker before the power goes out.

When the feed resumes, the room is lit by the dim, red glow of the emergency light. The shower is still running, but the cubicle is empty. It's glass walls are shattered, exploded outwards as if something massive inside had broken free.

* * *

DR A. DIO Internal Report to <redacted> - 2000 hours, 03/23/2049

I have now collected sufficient data on the fluids produced by the Beta-class specimen. As part of the Bravo imperative, this information has not been disclosed to the group as a wider whole.

There are several irregularities in the creature's saliva and ejaculate that I am researching further. Initial analysis indicates the presence of chemicals commonly found in over the counter aphrodisiacs, albeit with far greater concentration for tremendous doses. It has been easy to mislabel this as a paralytic as there are sedatives occurring within this mixture as well. My hypothesis is that the Beta-class specimen induces a state of euphoric paralysis to not only increase the likelihood of an Alpha-class specimen bonding to a subject. It makes them more receptive, maybe even complicit in the subsequent transformation by associating the process with a dizzying erotic high.

There is a third component to the chemical that seems to be a sort of biological adapter. A microcellular compound that bonds to the recipient's DNA. Placing foreign genetic material near the chemical seems to have a magnetic effect on the chemical, as it is drawn to the foreign cells and rapidly attaches to them. Without providing a larger, more complex sample, I cannot yet confirm if this triggers initial stages of mutation in a potential Beta-class specimen or if it simply serves as the medium that allows an Alpha-Class specimen to bond with its host without any risk of rejection.

Request permission to assess potential specimens for further testing to verify this theory.

* * *

DR A. DIO Final Entry, Internal Report to <redacted> - 1512 hours, 03/27/2049

As instructed, final assessment has been performed. Subject response to Alpha-class specimen has exceeded all expectations in every respect.

Previous notes hypothesised a lack of cognitive function retained in Beta-class specimens, but the introduction of Beta-0002 and Beta-0003 has disproved this. Newly created Beta-class specimens do not experience reduced cognitive function or diminished individuality, rather a redistribution of personal preferences. We now know that Beta-class specimens are capable of limited communication, 0001 has simply withheld this until now.

Anticipating we will have Beta-0003 any moment now. While this will mean my personal target is achieved, I will be respectfully declining the opportunity to depart project Scryer Ascendant.

I believe I can do far greater things by remaining here.

* * *

CCTV LOG, Specimen Containment - 1145 hours, 03/27/2024

Dr Carlisle can be seen entering the containment lab. She frowns, appearing perplexed that two of the Alpha-class Specimens and Beta-0001 are checked out. Looking over her shoulder she adjusts the temperature control, lowering the room to 30 degrees.

Shivering, she carefully approaches Alpha-class specimen 0002, enters her authorisation and pulls the containment unit free. Satisfied that the Alpha-class specimen is completely inert, she fiddles with the latch on the containment unit and pushes it back into the storage area.

She takes a deep breath, grimaces and proceeds to attempt calling someone on her phone. As she exits the containment room, she adjusts the temperature to 60 degrees.

* * *

DR N. ASHMORE Personal Email to <private> - 2200 hours, 03/23/2049

Personal Email to encrypted offsite user

I can't believe it, you were right, Syd's more gullible than even I thought possible.

I've got full run of communications. It's a lot. I can get you so much more than we initially discussed. We're talking videos. Procedures. Dirt. Enough dirt to bury the Science Division and everyone here.

And I know just where to start. I've attached a free sample. You'll see what I can offer, but I'm going to need you to up the initial deposit and be ready to pay her accordingly.

Yours,

N.

Attached is a url link to an adult entertainment site that opens to a library of videos for a performer titled 'Jazz'.

* * *

UNKNOWN SENDER External Email to J Saunders - 2300 hours, 03/24/2049

"Greetings Dr Saunders,

Or do you prefer "Jazzy"? Don't be shy, you never used to be.

It's been a while since your last appearance and we're very interested in bringing you out of retirement. We figure you won't mind mixing business and pleasure one last time. After all, this is how you paid off your student loans, isn't it?

Do not delete this email. Do not ignore it and if you mention it to Dr Carlisle or the others, we will know.

Refuse us in any way and the entire science division will receive a collection of your greatest hits. We've attached a preview for you to review, it's understandable why you never released some of these but we'll gladly remedy that if you aren't interested in recording some new material.

Don't keep us waiting.

X"

There is a near immediate reply from Dr J. Saunders.

"Alright... you make a compelling argument. What's the scene?"

Another swift reply from unknown address

"You have a very unusual guest.

We'd like to see you entertain him.

X"

Dr J. Saunders replies half an hour later

"Do you have any idea what you're asking? Besides getting an audience with him, there are risks. Unknowns. There is no precedent for such a thing."

An immediate reply

"We've accessed the work you've done with Dr Dio. It's promising. Take a few days to prepare, keep it safe, make some history and you'll be more than adequately compensated.

Boldly go where no woman has gone before and you can retire the next day. We've already deposited a 50% down payment to your personal account. You'll get the remaining 50% once we receive the video and an ongoing 2.2% royalty once it's live.

You can retire as the most high paid anonymous performer in recent history. The alternative is far less discreet.

You have 2 days,

X."

Dr Saunders replies minutes later. Metadata shows her personal bank accounts was briefly logged into and viewed prior to writing her email.

"Duly noted"

* * *

DR A. DIO Internal Report to <redacted> - 1800 hours, 03/25/2049

"Staff Update.

Dr Carlisle's suspicions are completely misplaced. She believes Dr J. Saunders is leaking information to an external informant. However closer review of internal communications shows that Dr N. Ashmore is liaising with a third party to blackmail Dr Saunders into initiating a close encounter with Beta-0001. Normally, I would intervene, but I do not need to elaborate that allowing this to play out would allow us to indirectly proceed with the Bravo Imperative.

Dr Ashmore however will require a more direct approach. This security breach should be neutralised urgently to keep the project contained. Recommending her for exposure to Alpha-class specimen per my earlier request for additional Beta-specimens."

Reply received six hours later

"Att: Dr A Dio

You have greenlight. Proceed at your own discretion."

* * *

CCTV LOG Specimen Containment - 1207 hours, 03/27/2049

Motion detected in Specimen containment, prompting a brief recording.

A slender, Beta-class specimen crawls across the floor. It seems to sniff out the ichor and corpse of an Alpha-class specimen. It hisses and recoils before darting towards the containment units. Facial detection software indicates Dr Nora Ashmore is present in the room.

As the Beta-class specimen approaches the containment blocks, it rears up onto its back legs, exposing a naked female chest and waist along with the sharp chin and lips of Dr Ashmore. Its pale skin is criss-crossed with dark veins that seem to spread as she breathes heavily. She smiles as she looks directly at the camera before turning to the containment unit. Her clawed hand slowly taps at the keypad.

The hatch on Alpha-class specimen 0004 pips open. It crawls forward, slopping out of its glass cage, the only specimen remaining in the room. All the other units are empty. The Beta-class specimen that looks like Nora smiles and moans as she strokes the creature, it's spindly body nuzzling against her before it scampers away out of the room. Dr Ashmore drops to all fours and bounds after it.

* * *

CCTV LOG Corridor 5, Specimen Containment Access - 1156 hours, 03/27/2049

Dr Sydney Carlisle can be seen running from the Specimen containment room. Something at a T-junction in the corridor startles her. She raises the pistol she carries, aiming to her left and fires two shots before the gun appears to be empty. Dr Carlisle pats her pockets and appears to realise she has no amount to reload. She screams as Beta-0001 comes into view from the T-junction. She throws her pistol at it and tries to run.

Completely unphased, the creature lunges forward, seizing her by the ankle and dragging her towards it. Dr Carlisle screams, punching and kicking as the creature slowly straddles her, pinning her arms to the ground.

2 more Beta-class specimens slink into focus. Both are slender, more angular than Beta-0001. Their exposed human features are distinctly feminine, their breasts swaying beneath them as they move. Both have deathly pale skin, one possesses vestiges of short blonde hair, the other long, curly and auburn. They both move to either side of Dr Carlisle and Beta-0001. Facial recognition indicated Dr N Ashmore and Dr J Saunders are now in the corridor with Dr Carlisle and Beta-0001.

They appear to whisper to her, their hips gyrating against the floor as they stroke and lick her face. Slowly, they tug at her white coat as Beta-0001 leans down to nuzzle at her neck. The auburn haired Beta-class specimen with a mouth like Jamie's, leans back to sit on her knees. She appears to be boasting, crowing triumphantly as she strokes her belly. It seems to squirm in response, enlarging slightly as its darkened veins seem to pulsate. Dr Carlisle appears horrified. Her lips seem to say "No, God, Jamie no!" before Beta-0001 leans down to kiss her long and hard on the lips.

This is interrupted when the blonde-haired specimen rears up and hisses. Her nostrils flare as she turns towards the Specimen containment room. Beta-0001 releases Dr Carlisle suddenly, trails of slime dripping from its maw as it turns to face the containment room. The Jaime Beta clutches her head and shrieks as though she were grieving.

While they are distracted, Dr Carlisle wriggles out from beneath Beta-0001 and makes a run for it. Her lips trembling as she coughs up thick globs of slime. Jaime Beta notices and shrieks as she leaps to her feet. Beta-0001 stands on the spot, snarling and roaring.

Eventually, an Alpha-class specimen scuttles past, followed by the Nora Beta. Beta-0001 tilts it's head as if asking a question. Nora shares her head before nuzzling against Beta-0001's domed forehead. Her right claw trails down his chest until it reaches the base of his shaft. Beta-0001 responds by hitching her left leg up as he presses her against the wall. His cocks immediately thrust into her and Nora begins nodding enthusiastically as he slams in and out of her. Periodically the two exchange sloppy kisses as Beta-0001's cocks pump her full of inhuman cum.

After forty minutes of this, he releases her, his cocks sliding free with a messy splatter. Nora's mouth trembles. She clutches her stomach and smiles a broad toothy grin as it begins to wriggle and swell. Beta-0001 sprints down the corridor. Nora remains stroking her belly before gracefully sauntering after him.

* * *

DR A. DIO Internal Report to <redacted> - 1100 hours, 03/26/2049

Upon further calculation, I have a detailed proposal for Bravo imperative. At risk of internal controversy, Dr Nora Ashmore is our prime candidate. Per my previous correspondence, I believe it is best to "two birds, one stone" our issue.

I understand that her previous affiliation with Dr Carlisle presents ethical challenges that Dr Carlisle will be reluctant to accept. However if the matter is a tragic accident, I believe we can persuade her Dr Ashmore's selfless dedication would want her misfortune to serve the greater good. I will obtain what I need and ensure Dr Ashmore is not disturbed while they become acquainted. I will need temporary security overrides so that I can scrub the record, otherwise Dr Carlisle will be able to follow the logs.

Should a back-up be required, Dr Saunders seems to be eager to conduct a more personal examination of Beta-0001. I believe she is intending to proceed with Dr Ashmore's aforementioned proposal. I will not intervene unless instructed to, as I believe there is scientific merit for us, even if that isn't her motivation.

* * *

DR J. SAUNDERS Email to <Unknown User> - 0730 hours, 03/27/2049

"Alright.

You'll have my 'research' after midday, when I see you've made good on your end. You can talk a big game, but I'm the one doing the work. You'll get a preview. But if you want the whole thing, I get what I'm owed. Then we're square."

Immediate reply

"Of course Jazzy. A deal is a deal, you have our word.

Enjoy the ride.

X."

* * *

DR N. ASHMORE Personal Email to <redacted> - 0800 hours, 03/27/2049

"Dr Saunders will be conducting her study later today. I will be making arrangements to ensure that what transpires is handled with the upmost discretion, as far as Dr Carlisle or Dr Dio will know, her personal aspirations will be met with terrible misfortune.

We will then have a prime opportunity for further study of the Beta-class specimen. Science Division will want it transported off-site and your associates can move to acquire while the asset in transit.

You get a return on your investment in days rather than years. When you need a head of research for your project, you have my contacts. You'd do well to consider what I'm capable of if we make it official.

N"

Reply received an hour later

"Promises Doctor.

Once we have more than promises, we'll talk."

* * *

CCTV LOG Corridor 19 - 1750 hours, 03/27/2049

Three female Beta-class specimens are slamming against and scratching the door to Dr Carlisle's quarters. They appear to howl and moan, periodically exchanging physical affection as they appear to call out to whoever is locked inside the room.

One of the females is heavily pregnant, her stomach bulging as she steps back and drops into a squat. The slimmest of the three females seems to hold a handheld device as she moves to support her pregnant peer. The two women relax as a large egg is slowly laid in a puddle of slime beneath the pregnant specimen.

The third continues to beat her fists on the door to Dr Carlisle's quarters. Facial recognition indicates that Dr Ashmore, Saunders and Dio are all present in the corridor.

The third female screeches as her own belly continues to distend while the slim hybrid moves of screen. Shadows suggest that Beta-0001 is present and copulating with the slim specimen of screen. The one that laid its egg rises to her feet with a triumphant shriek. Her belly slender and taut as though she hadn't just passed an egg the size of a basketball.

The door can be seen opening as Dr Carlisle stumbles out, clutching and pulling at her clothes as her body begins to convulse. She relaxes into the embrace of the two female hybrids on screen. Facial recognition indicates that Dr Saunders and Dr Ashmore are present. The two of them caress and kiss Dr Carlisle, seemingly whispering assurances as they begin lathering her in their saliva.

Footage begins flickering as base power begins to fluctuate.

The last clear image shows a naked Dr Carlisle being carried away by the two female specimens.

* * *

DR A. DIO Personal Memo - 1433 hours, 03/27/2049

SO. GOOD.

WOULD NOT. BELIEVE. GOOD. SO GOOD. I SEE. I SEE CLEAR NOW. WE ARE. WILL BE. SO GOOD. NORA. JAIME. SO GOOD. FEEL THEM. FEEL HIM. SCRATCHING IN MY BRAIN. NOT BAD. GOOD. SO GOOD.

EVERYONE. SHOULD FEEL GOOD.

IM MATE. MATE NOW. HIS MATE. ALL OF US. BIRTH. SO MUCH BIRTH. SOON.

- there are several screenshots attached of Dr Alex Dio appearing to take self portraits as the Alpha-class specimen fuses itself to her body.

- a shaky video is attached, a loud huffing, panting growl can be heard as claws can be seen grappling with the camera.

"Loooook... Loooooooook. Ussss. So... goooood." Rasps Dr Dio as the camera is turned to face her. Her human mouth twists into a wide, gaping smile that shows off her freshly sprouted fangs. Her long tongue lolls from the side of her mouth, dripping with spit as she pans the camera up and down her altered body.

"Sooo... good..." she moans, Tracing her free hand over her mons, a shrill chirp comes from her as she runs her hand up over her belly.

"Joinnnn... show why. Join. Coooome... joinnnn..." she croons as the camera cuts out.

* * *

DR A. DIO Personal Recording- 1752 hours, 03/27/2049

The camera shudders into operation as scrambling claws struggle to point it at a second female Beta-class specimen. Alex purrs as she kisses and nips at the other female.

"Jaaaaime. So... goooddd..." she huffs as the other female nuzzles her and growls softly. Her pale belly is swollen and distended as her vagina begins to spread open with a wet slurp. She rasps as Alex begins affectionately stroking her belly.

Slowly, a large, fleshy blue pod begins to slide free from Jaime's vagina. Thick trails of purple slime cascade around the egg, providing a thick slimy cushion for the Pod to land in.

Alex is making inhuman snarls and grunts as she hungrily stares at the pod. Behind her, Beta-0001 moves into focus, its claws clasp the exposed inner thighs of Alex's legs. She quivers and orgasms briefly.

"Mmmm my. My turn. MY! TURNNNN!" She howls as Beta-0001 clearly plunges into her from behind. She shrieks and drops the camera, leaving it pointed up at them from where it landed. For forty eight minutes, Beta-0001 vigorously pounds at her, its cocks constantly undulating as it fills the wailing, thrashing Alex creature. Eventually it pullsfree with a wet slap and gently lays her on the ground.

Alex stares into the camera, puffing and mumbling as her body heaves with each ragged breath.

"Good. So good. Mate. I'm mate. Join us... joinnn ussss..." she purrs as she groggily reaches for the camera, smiling blissfully before the camera ceases recording.

DR J. SAUNDERS Mobile upload - 2300 hours, 03/27/2049

Found. Everything I can. Sharing. Like we share. Not afraid any more. Want to be seen. Want you all see.

Watch me. Enjoy me. Watch us all. See us. Real us. Who we meant to be.

Pleasure.

Join us. Do more than watch. Join us.

Attached are the video logs you have been viewing and the video Jaime 'Jazzy' Saunders attempted to make when the incident occurred. There is also 786 photos and clips in a public cloud storage folder. Each image showing the women in varying states of ecstasy as they lay their eggs, make out with one another and observe Carlisle's transformation. Almost half the images are graphic close-ups of the womenas they take turns being impregnated by Beta-0001, all taken by Alex's mobile.

As well as your email, this has been sent to every address in the company email. It went live on the internet moments before. Every adult site Jaime was ever published on.

Now everyone knows what's happening down there, what they're offering...

So. Will you?

[ghosttotheparty]

love me softly (ds3)

love me softly (deleted scenes)

Chrissy wipes her cheek one last time, taking a shuddering breath as she fiddles with her key in her lap. She’s eyeing Eddie’s front door, hesitating, trying to stop crying.

She drops her head to the steering wheel, sighing heavily. Her hands are shaking, and the sound of doors slamming is echoing in her head.

She tugs down the hem of her skirt when she gets out of her car, irritated by how the denim rides up when she sits, and she hops up the steps to Eddie’s front door, knocking tentatively.

The door swings open after a few moments, and Eddie blinks at her, his eyes shining.

“Hey, babe,” he says lightly, his eyes flicking back and forth between hers. She knows it’s obvious she’s been crying. “You okay? What’s going on?”

“Uh.” She takes a breath. “I did it.”

“Did… it,” he repeats blankly.

“I dumped Jason.”

He blinks.

“Oh.” He opens the door wider, and she steps inside, her hands shaking, her eyes burning. “How was it? You okay?”

“Wasn’t great,” she says, laughing humourlessly, a tear falling, and she wipes it quickly. “He wasn’t happy.”

“He didn’t do anything, did he?” Eddie asks, his voice lower as he turns to look at her. “Chrissy, I swear I’ll kill him—”

“He didn’t,” Chrissy says quickly. “He just… said some stuff. Accused me other cheating. And some other stuff.”

“Christ,” Eddie mutters, leaning closer and wiping her cheek. “You alright?”

She shrugs weakly, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I just…”

“What are you feeling?” Eddie asks softly, kissing her forehead.

“I’m so— I’m so glad to be done with him, I just…” She takes a gasping breath, reaching up to hold Eddie’s wrists tightly, tears falling down her face freely now. She doesn’t bother trying to hold them back. “Jason and I— We were supposed to be my future, and I— I don’t know what to do, Eddie, I—”

She lets out a sob, and he kisses her forehead again, murmuring softly.

“Chris, sweetheart, listen to me.”

She blinks her eyes open, looking up at him as he wipes her tears carefully.

“You are a whole entire person,” he says, and she lets out a small laugh. “You don’t need him.”

“I don’t need him,” she repeats quietly, and he nods. “I just…”

“…Hug?”

She nods, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, and he hugs her tightly, arms strong around her waist, lifting her up. Her legs dangle down and she buries her face in his hair, crying.

He sways with her, turning his head to kiss her, whispering that she’s okay.

“You know how proud I am of you?” he murmurs. She shakes her head. “So fuckin’ proud, Chrissy, you’re fucking incredible.”

Her arms tighten around him, and he hugs her tighter, swaying again.

“You wanna stay here tonight?” he asks when she stops crying after a while. She nods, sniffling and wiping her cheek. “C’mere, you can borrow some clothes.”

He leads her to his room after she kicks her shoes off pausing to snatch some tissues to wipe her cheeks and under her eyes, carefully cleaning away her runny mascara.

“There you go, pretty girl.”

She gives him a watery smile.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

He finds her a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that he definitely stole from Steve. (Chrissy can tell because it’s pale blue, standing out in his closet.) He leaves while she changes, and she looks around as she does, at all his posters and tapestries and his wall full of Steve’s art. She stops to look at the art when she’s dressed, after setting her skirt and shorts and blouse and bra in a chair near Eddie’s desk.

She never knew Steve Harrington is an artist. She doesn’t think anybody knows, except Eddie and his Uncle Wayne.

Her eyes follow the overlapping paper, the pieces of tape and thumbtacks, the colourful marker and pen ink and the dark smudges of pencil. She recognizes Eddie’s eyes in one, paired with Steve’s loopy handwriting, and in another she sees who she thinks might be Eddie and Steve sitting side by side.

She rubs his cheek with the sleeve of Eddie/Steve’s hoodie when she leaves Eddie’s room, shutting the door behind herself and hearing Eddie’s voice down the small hallway.

“…sounds good, Stevie, thank you. …I love you too, baby. Drive safe.”

Chrissy stops by the kitchen as he’s hanging up, and he looks up at her, smiling.

“You had a date tonight,” she says, forlorn. “Didn’t you.”

“It’s fine, Chris.”

“Eddie-e-e…”

“Chrissy-y-y…” he mimics, taking her in his arms and swaying with her dramatically. “It’s okay, my dearest.”

“But you had a date.”

“Look, Chris. Steve and I are big boys. We focus on our priorities. And tonight you need a little extra lovin’ so we’re gonna give it to you, ‘kay?”

She looks up at him, sighing heavily.

“He’s coming over right now,” Eddie continues. “And he’s bringing pizza, and I bet he’s also gonna get some ice cream but he doesn’t know we already have his favourite in the freezer.” He whispers the last part, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that makes Chrissy giggle.

“Okay,” she says softly.

“Go cuddle up on the sofa,” he tells her, pecking her cheek.

She does just that, grabbing one of the many blankets that are strewn around the living room and sitting in the corner of the sofa, wrapping the blanket around herself and sighing.

She wonders where Jason is. If he’s telling his friends, complaining about Chrissy. Saying those things, that Chrissy’s a slut, that she was cheating. She’d never do that. She thought he knew that. That he trusted her. Loved her.

She loved him. Even if it wasn’t in the way he thought, in the way she wishes she could have loved him.

Chrissy squeezes her eyes shut, lowering her head to her knees. Eddie brings her a mug of tea after a few minutes.

When Steve arrives he makes a beeline to Chrissy, pausing only to set the pizza box and a plastic bag on the kitchen counter. He flops onto the sofa next to her dramatically, looking up at her with pretty puppy dog eyes.

“How you doin’?”

She smiles, holding her mug between her hand.

“‘M okay.”

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers, squishing his cheek against her shoulder, and she can’t help but smile.

“Sorry for ruining your date night,” she says softly, listening to Eddie find plates in the cabinets. Steve clicks his tongue at her.

“Chrissy Cunningham, you are incapable or ruining anything.”

She suppresses another smile, and he reaches up to pull her into a hug, pressing a hard, loud kiss to her cheek that makes her giggle.

“You know what’ll make you feel better?” Steve asks, pulling away and looking at her again.

“What?”

“Butterscotch ice cream. I got some on the way over, it’s the best.”

Chrissy giggles again, beaming when Eddie says, “What did I tell you?” from the kitchen.

“What’s happening?” Steve asks, glancing over his shoulder at Eddie but still holding Chrissy, smiling softly despite his confusion.

“He said you’d bring ice cream.”

Steve makes a face at her.

“It’s almost like he knows me or something.”

He smacks three more loud kisses (Mwah, mwah, mwah!) on her cheeks and forehead before he gets up to help Eddie.

Eddie sits in the middle while they watch Desperately Seeking Susan, and when they finish eating Chrissy wraps her arms around Eddie’s arm, holding it to herself and laying on his shoulder.

Steve gets up to bring them ice cream. Chrissy stares it in her bowl for a moment, forgetting about the movie, watching the way it shines, her mother’s voice clawing at the back of her head like it’s trying to escape the cellar Chrissy’s pushed it into.

Eddie nudges her softly.

“You got it,” he murmurs quietly.

She nods, taking a deep breath.

The ice cream is sweet.

It’s almost melted by the time she finishes it because she eats it so slow, each bite intentional and careful, fully aware of every mouthful, and she looks down at the empty bowl when she’s done. At the little pool of melted ice cream at the bottom of it, at her spoon reflecting the movie.

She pauses, staring for a moment longer before she takes a breath, steeling herself, and she lifts the bowl to her lips, tipping her head back and draining it the way she saw Steve do it earlier. When she lowers the bowl, she sees Eddie glance at her, smiling to himself.

She puts the bowl down and leans against Eddie again, who reaches for her legs, pulling them up onto his lap and squeezing three times gently.

She holds his arm again, letting her cheek squish against his shoulder, trying to follow along with the movie, dismissing the urge to go to the bathroom. Eddie’s hands keep her steady, squeezing gently at her thigh just above her knee in a way that always made her self conscious when Jason did anything similar, but now she lets the touch envelope her. She knows what it means.

You got it.

She sighs and nuzzles against his shoulder, ignoring the voice in her head saying pizza AND ice cream pizza AND ice cream pizza AND ice cream pizza AND ice cream.

Eddie squeezes her leg like he can hear it too.

She takes a slow breath, closing her eyes.

Pizza and ice cream.

And Eddie’s hand on her leg, and his arm between hers. His shoulder against her cheek, and after a few minutes, his lips against her forehead.

And Steve’s arm reaching around Eddie’s shoulders, his hand finding the back of Chrissy’s neck, his fingers holding her gently, playing with her hair.

And Desperately Seeking Susan playing on the television, turning into white noise as she drifts off against Eddie, her body relaxing.

Her stomach and heart both blissfully full.

[headcanonsandmore]

'Glad All Over (Cake By The Ocean)', Epilogue

Summary: A soft epilogue for Nyssa and Tegan.

~~~~~~~~~~

Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nyssa headed through the high-street of Tregonnereth.

Summer was slowly turning into a soft autumn, and the town’s summer season had mostly finished, save for a few elderly couples who chose this time of year to holiday in the UK.

Nyssa was glad that she had chosen her long-sleeve lacy blouse. She had sewn it herself, of course, and it paired wonderfully with her long flowing burgundy skirt. She was wearing her pair of Edwardian-style lace-up brogue boots, and delighted in the feeling of the wind gently swaying the fabric.

She had, of course, changed after getting back from work. She wouldn’t have worn this in the practice, but this evening was special.

Smiling softly to herself, Nyssa entered the garage.

She was met with the sight of an Australian dream.

Tegan was dancing to herself, eyes closed and smiling widely. She was wearing her normal overalls, with the top half tied around her waist to reveal a purple crop top. The same purple crop top that she had worn to Pride the previous year. Her muscles worked and bulged as she moved, and Nyssa couldn’t help but marvel.

Had a whole year really passed? As she watched Tegan pirouette in time with the music, Nyssa supposed that -when you were having fun- time really did fly by. But Nyssa didn’t care, because time was made up of those wonderful little moments that she couldn’t help but adore.

“I don't wanna hide my love… I don't wanna waste it…” Tegan sang, along to the music. “But I can't deny the moment when I taste it…”

She punctuated that last line by wrapping her arms around her torso and pirouetting again.

“My heart's a secret, mmm… I think I'm coming alive, yeah… I think I'm coming alive with you…”

Nyssa smiled, feeling her heart well with love for the woman who continued to dance in front of her, apparently oblivious to the outside world.

“Don't give it up… Don't say it hurts… 'Cause there's nothing like this feeling, baby… now that I found you!”

‘Oh, is that so, my darling?’

Tegan’s eyes opened, and she froze where she stood.

‘Nys!’ she exclaimed, happily. ‘Had a good day at work, love?’

‘About the same as ever,’ Nyssa said, with a giggle as she stepped towards Tegan and pressed a kiss to a spot on Tegan’s cheek that didn’t have oil grease on it. ‘Yours?’

‘Pretty good,’ Tegan grinned, grabbing a cloth and wiping her hands with it. ‘Give me five minutes to get cleaned up and I’ll be right with you…’

Nyssa followed Tegan back into the office, which was partitioned away from the rest of the garage, with screens around it.

Without ceremony, Tegan stripped her overalls off, and began washing herself with a flannel at the small sink imbedded into the wall. A year ago, Nyssa might have gotten flustered and looked away, but now she simply inclined her head to get a better view of the Australian’s rear end.

‘I can feel you watching me, love.’

‘You sound surprised,’ Nyssa said, with a grin. ‘Goodness forbid I stare at my gorgeous partner while she’s stood in her knickers.’

Tegan laughed, and began to dry herself off with a towel.

‘You know I’m not complaining,’ she cheeked, turning to smile at Nyssa and pulling on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. ‘Goodness knows I stare at you enough.’

The Australian then bent down to dig into her rucksack, and slipped the gold-coloured band onto her ring finger.

‘I’m taking no chances,’ she said, stepping closer to Nyssa and putting her hands around her wait. ‘I am not losing one of our engagement rings inside an engine.’

Nyssa giggled, and cupped Tegan’s face with her hands, kissing her softly on the lips.

‘I know, my darling, and I love you for it.’

Their hands wrapped around each other, and Nyssa pushed Tegan gently up against the desk, the Australian giving a happy squeal as Nyssa hoisted her with surprising strength onto the wooden surface. Their tongues slipped into each other’s mouths. Tegan’s legs parted around Nyssa, and the older woman moaned softly against Nyssa’s lips as their bodies pressed close together, one of Nyssa’s hands slipping inside the half-open flannel to squeeze Tegan’s hip. The other followed it, but travelled upwards, and slipped under the material of the sports bra-

‘Oy! Tegan? Nyssa? Anyone here?’

Nyssa and Tegan froze, tongues in each-others mouths, and they both rolled their eyes, pulling away.

‘Ace!’ Tegan exclaimed, yelling over her shoulder as Nyssa reluctantly removed her hands. ‘You have the worst timing!’

There was the telltale sound of Mel giggling.

With a sigh, Tegan hastily did up her shirt, and climbed off the desk. Nyssa quickly brushed her hair where Tegan’s hands had been roaming. The two women then headed out of the office to where their friends were standing in front of the huge front doors.

‘Town meeting this evening,’ Mel said, with an apologetic grin at Nyssa. ‘Barbara stopped by the practice and requested that we help her set things up.’

‘And Ace is here as well because…’

‘Because she happened to be hiding under the desk at the time,’ Mel replied, without an ounce of embarrassment. ‘And, besides, four pairs of hands are better than three.’

Tegan rolled her eyes.

‘Alright, alright…’ she said, reaching over and wrapping her arm around Nyssa’s waist, giving her a squeeze. ‘We can get the papers ready this evening, anyway.’

Ace frowned, in bafflement.

‘Papers?’

‘Adoption papers, for our new cat,’ Nyssa explained. ‘She’s called Felicity and she’s the other love of my life.’

‘We are not,’ Tegan said, with a chuckle, ‘naming the cat after Felicity Kendal.’

‘Of course we are,’ Nyssa shot back, with a smile. ‘You promised, after all.’

‘Because you asked me during a moment of intense emotion. Nys, at the time, I would have literally yelled “yes” to anything you asked me, owing to the fact that you had your head inbetween my-’

‘Yes, I did do that,’ Nyssa said, with a smile. ‘Funny that, isn’t it.’

‘I bloody love you, Nyssa Traken.’

Nyssa giggled, and pressed a kiss to Tegan’s cheek.

‘Bleurgh,’ Ace retched, making a face. ‘Forget I asked. C’mon, doughnut; let’s go.’

Giggling at the nickname (which Nyssa still didn’t really understand), Mel intertwined her fingers with Ace’s, smiled happily at Nyssa and Tegan, and headed out through the main doors of the garage.

Nyssa stood while Tegan closed up the front doors and hoisted her rucksack onto her back.

‘You ready?’

‘Of course,’ Nyssa replied, intertwining their fingers. ‘It’s going to be wonderful; you, me and Felicity.’

Tegan chuckled.

‘Our little family,’ the Australian said, before kissing Nyssa’s cheek again. ‘Good grief, it doesn’t seem that long ago that I was dumping your shoes in front of you on Tregonnereth beach.’

‘Well, I am glad you did. Otherwise I never would have met you, meaning that I never would have stayed here.’

‘Nah, Nys; you stayed here because you wanted to help people.’

‘Yes… and you helped me. You were there from the very beginning. I was petrified at first because I didn’t think anyone here would enjoy being around me. But you always had my back. Just because you wanted to help. And… I love you for that.’

Tegan’s cheeks flushed.

‘I mean, I did fancy you.’

‘Stop downplaying it; if you hadn’t been you -lovely, kind, wonderful Tegan Jovanka- I would never have decided to stay here.’

‘Makes me sound cooler than I am.’

‘Tegan, you are the coolest person I know, and I’m not even being biased. As well as being my partner, you’re also my best friend.’

Tegan smiled, eyes wide and filled with an immensely soft tenderness.

‘I think Mel would get annoyed about that description.’

‘Okay, she’s my best platonic friend. But you’re my best romantic friend.’

‘Nys, we’re literally engaged to be married.’

‘I know; it’s wonderful, isn’t it.’

Tegan grinned.

‘It’s brilliant. It’s a big step, though; are you sure we’re ready?’

‘Of course we are, Tegan,’ Nyssa said, smiling at the woman who had opened up her world and her heart. The sun was already sinking below the horizon, bathing the two women in a soft, warm glow. ‘We’re indestructible.’

Tegan smiled, and squeezed her fiancé’s hand. They set off towards the town hall.

As Nyssa walked, hand-in-hand with Tegan, through the high-street of the small town, with the soft autumn wind blowing gently through her hair and the sea glistening in the deep orange sunset before them, she knew -in her heart of hearts- that she was home.

The End

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! I've had such a wonderful time writing this series, and I'm glad that you have all enjoyed it as well! The comments have been so lovely and encouraging, so thank you so much for sticking with this series!

You won't have to wait long for my next Tegan/Nyssa fic, though; no spoilers, but y'all are in for a... fang-tastic October...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Paradigm Shift 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you get transferred to a new position but it’s hardly a breath of fresh air. (plus!reader)

Characters: Loki, Bucky Barnes, this reader is known as Billie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You have one victory on your first day and it’s hardly that. Laufeyson and Barnes responded but it’s just more work to put on your plate. Now you have to go through and figure out how to balance it all. Well, it’s Friday and you can worry about all of that on Monday. 

You head out from the office. You have earned your prize. Drinks. And you’re not going to take it easy, even if Missie tells you to. 

You get there later than the others. You barely have enough time to get home and change out of your striped blouse. All you really did was switch out your blazer for a leather jacket. 

Georgie is nervous and glum. Her boss is taking her on an impromptu work trip. From what you’ve heard of the guy, he’s a real tool. You envy Izzie as she’s jumping out of planes instead of moping over an office desk. You’ll have to ask her how she got into that. 

Before you can put in your order for a double paloma, more tempted to just ask for a straight shot of tequila, a server appears with a tray of drinks. Ugh. You can see the sugar in the colour alone. 

“I don’t think that’s for us,” Elfie says before you can. 

“Some gentlemen sent them,” the server gestures behind her with her chin. 

She unload the tray as you strain to see the creeper buying a round for you. There’s always some loser buzzing around like a gnat. “God, I could use a tequila...” you mutter. 

“Who is that?” Rosie asks what you’re all thinking as a man waves and Dizzie waves back. You want to snatch her hand down. She can be so naive. 

“That’s my boss,” she explains and your throat locks up. You might just choke on your own damn tongue. 

You sit back down and hide your face between your hands. It can’t be but you’re certain at a glance. Dark hair, square jaw, piercing blue eyes. Did he see you too. 

“Shit, he’s with my boss!” You hiss. 

“Your boss?” Elfie leans in with concern. 

“One of them.” 

“And... is that... Mr. Rogers?” Rosie chimes. “What are the odds?” 

You lift your face and glare at her brightness. She might like her boss but you have been in hell all day. You can’t even begin to explain the shit pile you’ve been handed. Two bosses. Both eager to outdo the other’s assholery. 

“It’s so nice of them to send some drinks thought,” Dizzie says. 

Rosie agrees but Elfie has the sense to question it, “but why?” 

“I won’t deny a free drink..” Missie slurps. 

You ignore their chatter and raise your hand above the din. You signal to the server with a fraction of a smile. Fuck this apple bullshit. You need the hard stuff. 

The alcohol helps the night along but you can’t shake the presence across the bar. You’re paranoid. It’s too much of a coincidence. More so than Barnes being there but with Rosie and Dizzie’s bosses. You gues their type flock together. 

Still, you can’t quite shake it. You keep yourself to two palomas. You won’t risk making a single misstep. 

At the end of the night, you head off alone. Usually, you’d split a cab with Elfie but she left early, Georgie too. You yawn and bid goodbye to the rest. 

You dive out into the dark and tuck your hands into your pockets. The street is quiet as you step up to the curb. At this hour, it’s only cabs but you don’t see any lurking around. You head down the pavement in search of a ride. 

“Billie,” the deep timbre halts you. You blow out between your lips and turn to face Barnes. You're not surprised. 

“Mr. Barnes,” you greet. 

“Walking home alone?” He asks. 

“Trying to find a cab.” You spin back and raise your hand as a yellow car appears around the corner. 

“If you need a ride...” he offers. 

“No thank you.” You lean in as you flag the driver. He stops just a few feet away to pick up a group of guys. Shit. 

“I don’t mind.” He insists. 

You shake your head and cross your arms. You continue down the street. You don’t live that far. His footfalls echo yours. 

“You know, it wasn’t in the options but I do expect you to flash a smile or too,” he chirps as he comes parallel to you. 

“I’m not on the clock.” 

“No, you’re not. So how about another drink?” 

You scoff and stop. “I don’t mix my personal and professional life.” 

“All professional, doll. I’m just congratulating you on your new position.” He smirks as you glance over. 

“I gotta get home.” 

You walk on and he does too. You get to the corner and harrumph. You stop again. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. 

“With that kinda attitude, you’ll fit right in with Laufeyson.” 

You tilt your head as you consider your options. Keep going and lead him home or argue with him some more. Why can’t it just be over? 

“I can be a nice guy. You caught me on a bad day,” he says. 

“Look, I appreciate the offer, Mr. Barnes.” 

“We’re not at work. Bucky’s good.” 

“Mr. Barnes,” you repeat. “I’m tired. It was a long day, thank to you, and I need to go home and sleep. Let’s save the niceties for Monday. Please.” 

He considers you, his cheek dimpling. His blue eyes scan your grim expression. He snorts. 

“Huh, I think I misjudged you, doll.” He reaches to fix the floppy lapel of your jacket. “I really didn’t think you were that much of a tight ass. Guess I’ll just have to loosen it up.” He winks and pulls back, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Be safe,” he turns on his heels, “don’t know what kinda creeps are hanging out around here.” 

He struts back towards the bar and you glare after him. Right. You’re dreading Monday even more. 

[queenofmalkier]

So, a really good book resource for clothing can be found here and there are photos: http://13depository.blogspot.com/2002/03/costume-in-wheel-of-time.html

https://13depository.blogspot.com/2002/03/costume-in-wheel-of-time-part-2.html

I’m sure you probably had these from the wiki since they’re easy to find, but historical fashion is one of my special interests depending on the time period and I do love me some Tear content.

The show does change things up, we’re basically color-coding the Aes Sedai to more easily show who is on what team, but in the books they have a lot more freedom and the fashion is more to have slashing of their chosen Ajah color instead. They also use more expensive fabrics than would otherwise be available to them... which is problematic for those of the lower classes if they want to wear exact copies of clothing they wore before, but I digress.

My best guess is that “Aes Sedai dress according to their taste and often wear the fashions and hairstyles of their former country in silk or fine wool” actually means they adopt the styles of the nobility from their country of origin, because Aes Sedai are about power, they hold positions of power, and rocking out in a peasant blouse would negatively impact your standing.

I feel like the show did try to match the Tairen aesthetic for Siuan and her dad, to a point. Siuan is of course not wearing a high neck or aprons, but there wasn’t much to say the women were involved in fishing itself - by having her help, she’d need to adapt her clothing accordingly. And the tattoos were not present in the books.

So, based on my guess, Siuan as an Aes Sedai would have worn a lot of long dresses, neckline cut to the shoulders, with some serious cleavage, a lace ruff, and a tiny cap to match. She’d have slashed them in blue and they’d have been silk.

She would have worn her hair up and under a cap and the cap would probably be sewn with seed pearls or gemstones, maybe with lace. As she wouldn’t be in Tear I don’t think she’d wear the clogs, but then again it’s Siuan so she might just to underline that she’s from Tear.

Another thing she might do despite taking on the clothing of a Tairen noblewoman is have the Tairen maze embroidery on the neck/hem of her dress - again, to make it clear she was not ashamed or her origins. Siuan has always struck me as an in-your-face kind of woman.

Hope some of this helps! Sorry to ramble on your post!

For ease of reading instead of needing to click links:

“ Noblewomen wear colourful thin linen or brocaded silk dresses with either a high neck and lace ruff (The Fires of Heaven, To Caemlyn), a 16th century European style (see 1520s painting above left), or an off the shoulder neckline (The Dragon Reborn, The Hammer), a fashion in the 16th century in Germany and Italy (see 1580 painting above right and painting below left). “

“ To hold long hair in place, close-fitting caps (coifs of 15th century Europe, see above paintings) intricately embroidered or sewn with gems or seed pearls, or else of lace, are popular (The Fires of Heaven, Other Battles Other Weapons). Some caps may have feathers attached. Tairen noblewomen may wear ivory combs in their hair (Crossroads of Twilight, Prologue) or carry a tiny bottle of smelling salts or a painted silk fan (The Shadow Rising, Questioners and Into the Heart). Occasionally they may wear an embroidered rain cape (The Path of Daggers, Gathering Clouds). For mourning, a widow wears a high necked white gown with ruff and a white cap (The Shadow Rising, Into the Heart). Commoners wear a high-necked dress, perhaps with Tairen maze embroidery around the neck or hem, two or three progressively smaller pale aprons layered atop each other and coloured straw hats (The Dragon Reborn, Following the Craft). The dress is ankle-length to keep it from trailing in the mud. Serving women wear a dark coloured dress and short white apron (Robert Jordan, Tear notes). Some commoner women wear coiled braids (The Shadow Rising, Decisions), a fashion popular in 16th century Europe, especially with a coif, others have thick curls that hang down the sides of their head (The Dragon Reborn, Following the Craft). “

“In one style popular among Aes Sedai (and some Andoran and Shienaran noblewomen too), the skirts are slashed with fabric of contrasting colour, often their Ajah colour:”

Tairen lords wear colorful coats of padded silk and brocades with puffy sleeves, sometimes colored in stripes. Their breeches are tight to show a well-muscled leg to best advantage and are often brightly colored (TWoRJTWoT, Ch. 30). They wear dark beards trimmed to neat points (TFoH, Ch. 30).

Common men wear baggy breeches tied at the ankle and held up by a broad colored sash. Some wear long, dark coats fitting tightly to their arms and chest and becoming wider below the waist. Sometimes low shoes or boots are worn, but most prefer bare feet or clogs. Most wear cloth caps that hang to one side of their face, or wide conical straw hats to keep out the sun (TWoRJTWoT, Ch. 30).

Dockmen and other laborers wear baggy breeches, but go bare-chested or with a long vest in place of a shirt (TWoRJTWoT, Ch. 30).

Noble ladies of Tear wear long dresses with necklines cut to bare shoulders and considerable bosom. Silk is the preferred material and dresses are often adorned with a lace ruff and a tiny matching cap. Tairen widows wear white. Ladies carry a tiny porcelain bottle of smelling salts and fans at all times (TWoRJTWoT, Ch. 30; TSR, Ch. 5; TSR, Ch. 21).

Common women wear dresses with chin-high collars that reveal nothing, and ankle-high hems. The dresses are often adorned with pale-colored aprons, usually in combinations of two or three of progressively larger size, each smaller than the one beneath it. Hats, when worn, are wide-brimmed straw, sometimes dyed to match the aprons (TWoRJTWoT, Ch. 30).

All people who walk through the outer city wear special clogs. These clogs are small wooden platforms that fasten to the soles of the wearer's shoes to keep them clear of the mud (TWoRJTWoT, Ch. 30).

I am putting together an outfit for a pre-Amyrlin Siuan doodle, in the vein of what the other Aes Sedai are wearing in the show, so more practical and influenced by her culture, but that would also incorporate hints of her status as head of the blue spy network.

However, as I am not a fashion designer, I struggle to figure out a traditional Tairen outfit from the book descriptions only, so I welcome suggestions of design and patterns!

[nikatyler]

🦇 vampire sim dump #02

Happy simblreen! I almost didn’t participate this year, but then I thought, well, I have all these vampire sims (or vampire-related sims), might as well upload them and share them in a fun way!

TOU and notes:

You can play out the storylines I gave them, or you can ignore it and use them any way you like. I’d be happy to see it anyway!

They only have one outfit set. I would suggest changing their other outfits, otherwise you’ll probably see them around town wearing nothing but a towel 😅 Still better than the randomized madness I had to see them in though.

Please, don’t change their pronouns, gender and sexual orientation.

Don’t change their genetics. Feel free to give them a makeover - new hair, new clothes, makeup etc. Don’t claim as your own, don’t reupload or use as a base for your own sims.

Download links, used CC and individual posts linked under the cut.

GRACJAN (he/him)

Eyelashes 

Blood | Veins | Eyebags | Skin Details | Eyes | Skinblend | ??? to be fair tray importer was showing me nonsense so I gave up lol but it’s likely I didn’t use too much cc on him 🤷‍♀️

DL

🦇

BASIR (he/him)

Eyelashes | Hair | Eyebrows (28) 

Veins | Skinblend | Eyes (tsr)

Blush (tsr) | Tattoo (tsr) + this one (also tsr)

Eye preset | Ear preset (01)

Eyelids slider | Mouth slider

Earrings (tsr) | Pants 

DL

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AGATHA (she/they)

Eyelashes | Eyebrows (51)

Skinblend 

Ear preset (02) | Eye preset 

Lip slider | Mouth slider

Eyeshadow (tsr) | Eyeliner (tsr) | Contour | Lipstick (tsr)

Earrings (tsr) | Nose ring | Blouse (tsr) | Skirt | Shoes 

DL

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EDDIE (he/him)

Eyelashes | Hair

Skinblend | Skin Details

Chin Preset | Lip Preset (08)

Mouth Slider

Earrings | Choker (tsr) | Nose ring | Sweatshirt | Binder | Pants | Shoes

DL

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WILLIAM (he/him)

Eyebrows (01) | Body Hair | Stubble | Hair

Skinblend | Limb Colour | Eyes (tsr) | Black Sclera | Skintone

Nose preset (10) | Ear preset (04)

Belly slider | Mouth slider

Eyeliner

Coat | Pants? (AxA Darius no belt but I can’t figure out which pack it is 🤷‍♀️) | Shoes

DL

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RÉZI (she/her)

Hair | Eyelashes (lip mole) | Eyebrows (04)

Veins | Skinblend | Belly + Cleavage overlay | Freckles | Skin details

Jaw preset | Eye preset | Lip preset (09) | Body preset

Mouth slider

Eyeshadow | Eyeliner (13) | Lipgloss

Rings | Socks | Top | Pants | Shoes

DL

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SASHA (any pronouns)

Eyelashes | Hair | Eyebrows

Eyebags | Skinblend

Eye preset | Nose preset (02) | Lips preset (06)

Mouth slider | Eyelids slider

Eyeshadow | Eyeliner | Lipstick

Coat | Tattoo | Shoes | Choker | Earrings

DL

🦇

INDIRA (she/her)

Eyelashes (lip mole) | Eyebrows (02) | Hair

Skinblend | Eyeshape Overlay | Eyebags | Skin Details

Mouth slider

Eyeshadow | Eyeliner | Highlight | Blush | Lipstick 

Earrings | Rings | Sandals (09) | Suit

DL

🦇

GAIA (she/her)

Eyelashes (lip mole) | Hair | Eyebrows (52)

Veins | Black sclera | Skin overlay

Eye preset (01) | Nose preset | Lips preset (09)

Mouth slider | Eyelids slider | Cheek slider

Eyeshadow (tsr) | Blush (tsr)

Choker? (should be by jomsims but google is failing me) | Dress | Chain | Gloves

DL

🦇

ALTERNATIVE DOWNLOAD (Google Drive)