#i will turn anything into an excuse to draw birds

[dracanthropic]

Office doodles for day 16 of @quezify 's Eggtober.

Actual size (approximately) bee hummingbird and bee hummingbird egg. The tiniest bird and the tiniest egg.

Also the tiniest dinosaur lol.

[mariasont]

Parent-Teacher Conference - A.H

a/n: inspired by the show the nanny! major lover of mr sheffield and fran fine

masterlist

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pairings: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

summary: you are not happy with jack's teacher flirting with your boss

warnings: hotch staring at your ass!, jealous reader, flirty reader, would prob def get a complaint against her in the real world, but alas!

wc: 0.8k

I'm terribly sorry, but my cat died before I got here.

I actually was in a car wreck on the way. I know I look fine, but it was super traumatic.

Mr. Hotchner you look so good today! Me? Late! Never.

These were the series of apologies and excuses that you were rehearsing in your mind as you navigated your way through the school hallway. In your defense, your tardiness to the parent-teacher conference wasn't without reason. Jack's newfound rebellious phase had him ruining your pantyhose with deliberate runs. He found it hilarious. You found it anything but.

You mentally prepared for that all-too-familiar, intimidating glare from Mr. Hotchner, the kind that could make you feel like you were plummeting from a cliff. Not only were you running late, but you also anticipated a less-than-glowing report from Ms. Thompson about Jack's recent antics. And in the back of your mind, a nagging voice whispered that Mr. Hotchner would somehow find a way to blame you.

"Oh, Aaron, you're something else!" 

You stopped dead in your tracks, gaze locked on the scene unfolding before you. Ms. Thompson's voice took on a higher pitch, full of animation, her elbows subtly drawing her tits together, leaning into Mr. Hotchner's space with an ease that bordered on disrespectful. At least in your eyes.

Aaron? The casual use of Mr. Hotchner's first name sent your mood from sour to downright acrid. You strode into the classroom, inching your skirt higher and affixing a practiced, beaming smile to your face. It was all charm and no sincerity.

"So sorry I was late," you began, allowing a gentle sway in your step as you glided into the room, your heels clicking a measured tempo against the linoleum floor. You mustered all your willpower to not shoot daggers at the blonde headed teacher. "I didn't miss anything did I?"

As you stepped into view, both Ms. Thompson and Mr. Hotchner turned their eyes to you. Ms. Thompson's showed a flicker of surprise, while Mr. Hotchner's were like slits, scrutinizing. But even his discipline gaze dipped, albeit briefly, to the curve where your skirt ended. 

"Oh, I... I didn't realize you were married, Mr. Hotchner," she mumbled, her hands fumbling gracelessly with the papers on the desk, her lips pinched in a straight line.

You could nearly hear the thoughts churning in Mr. Hotchner's head as his lips parted to correct her. Hastily, you cut in, "An innocent mistake, I'm sure."

He raised an eyebrow, a wordless question hanging in the air. Ignoring it, you flashed a saccharine smile and took the seat by his side, linking your arm with his. His muscles tensed, a reaction that almost coaxed a giggle from you.

It was all too easy to get a rise out of him.

"My wife, the epitome of timeliness,"Mr. Hotchner states dryly, his grip of your arm tightening just a tad more than called for. 

To your astonishment, the remainder of the conference proceeded seamlessly from that point on. Ms. Thompson restrained herself, both in wardrobe and word, and unexpectedly showered Jack with praise.

Exiting the classroom alongside Mr. Hotchner, you noticed he paused just long enough to ensure Ms. Thompson was out of ear shot. That's when you felt the squeeze of his hand on your side, coming to rest on the curve of your lower back, the pressure didn't move even as you found yourselves alone in the hallway--and you were far from objecting.

"Really?"

Your shoulders rose and fell in a pretense of innocence, well aware that his perceptive eyes weren't fooled. You tilted into his shoulder, doing a mental victory dance when he made no move to distance himself.

"What?" you asked, clutching your purse tighter against your side as you paced forward. "I was just helping you out. She looked like she was about to jump your bones at any second."

Mr. Hotchner's face was unamused, per usual. "Your generosity knows no bounds."

"Right?" You were aware of his sarcasm, but that didn't deter you. Your shoulders bumped together as you made it to the exit. "Consider yourself lucky."

An eye roll was his immediate response, but you could almost sense the smile he was staunchly holding back. He would never admit it.

"Yes, how could I ever manage without you?"

He paused to open the door for you, following behind as you stepped outside. You squinted against the sun's harsh kiss before giving him a teasing wink over your shoulder. He looked really good in the sunlight. He could use more of it.

"You wouldn't."

You caught his eyes lingering not on your face, but lower--fixated on your skirt, more specifically your ass. You raised your brows in question. 

"I think you sat in something."

You let out a startled gasp, hands flying to the material of your skirt. It was your favorite. "What? Where?"

His hands found their way to your waist, gently pivoting you for a better view, while your eyes settled on the stretch of road before you. "Oh, nope, my mistake. Looking good."

Your laughter spilled out uncontrollably, realizing just what he was doing. Cheeky man. And completely out of character, but you liked it. "Mr. Hotchner!"

 "I take my role as husband very seriously."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[thevoidstaredback]

It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?

Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.

Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.

"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.

Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.

Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.

"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"

Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"

The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."

Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"

Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"

Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."

"Billy."

"No last name?"

"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"

He had to give it to him. "Touché."

Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.

The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.

"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"

Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."

The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.

Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."

"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"

Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"

The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"

The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.

"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.

"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.

"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"

"Magic."

"I guessed that much."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Will you teach me?"

"No."

"You didn't even think about it!"

"Okay," He paused. "No."

"Not fair." he pouted.

Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."

Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"

Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."

"Why not!"

"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."

"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.

Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."

Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"

The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.

"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."

Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."

"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"

Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"

He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."

Part 2 Part 4

(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)

Tag list: @zaiothe4th

[admirationandromantics]

Halloween Party

Yes, this is a Josh x reader bit where Josh is dressed as a pharaoh (please imagine Rami Malek in NATM), because that's the outfit I went with. This also takes place in an au where the lodge drama never happened, so don't worry about that. Reminding everyone that my blog is 18+ and so is this post.

This was made possible by a request I got, so thank you so much and please don't stop sending in requests.

Word count: 3,3 k (unedited!)

“Sit still!” Ashley scolds as she draws my eyeliner. 

“Sorry!” I apologise, trying my best to hold my breath. Normally, I can do my own, but for tonight’s halloween party I needed a few extra details. I was dressed as no other person than Cleopatra herself. I thought about getting a wig, but Jess found some beautiful golden pearls to put in my hair instead. I loved them, feeling like royalty. I was adorned with gold, my head, hair, neck, arms and hands. A white loose dress was draped around me, leaving the midst open, so it looked like a two-piece. I loved it, even though I personally didn’t look like her, you could not mistake me for anyone else. 

“Aaaand there!” Ashley exclaims, pulling away and giving me time to breathe. She was dressed as Elizabeth Bennet. It may be hard to see if one hasn't read the book or seen any of the films, but she had put her hair up and covered it in white pearls. She was wearing a beautiful dress, though it only went a little below her thighs and not completely down. She was beautiful. I knew she’d planned on this for a long time, so I made some calls to Josh, forcing him to make Chris watch the movie. He didn’t even need to put the idea in his hand. Chris saw himself in the character, loving him and the simplicity of the costume. Yes, this was a set-up, and we made it happen. Maybe the love birds would finally take the hint and get down to business. We can only hope. 

I get up, looking at myself in the mirror. I was afraid that I would not look like myself, but that didn’t happen. I still look like me, as well as the queen. 

We make our way over to the Washington house, and it feels bigger than ever, even when it is filled to the brim with people. Ashley grabs my hand, leading me inside. We press past people, occasionally giving them a small ‘sorry’ or ‘excuse me’. Ashley knows where to go, and she’s quick to get me into the kitchen. We both make eye contact with Sam, who’s sitting on the counter, talking to a dashing-looking Chris. Ashley stops in her tracks, but I force her with me despite her protests. Luckily, she stops trashing as we get closer, probably to avoid a scene. 

“Hey guys!” I greet, finally getting up beside them. 

“Hey-” Chris starts, and his eyes flow to Ash, looking her up and down. They stand there for a while, gawking at each other, both of their faces blushed and bothered. I sit beside Sam, enjoying the show as they start asking questions. I turn to her, trying to figure out her costume. 

She’s wearing a completely black outfit, a gadget belt and beside her is a mask. She must be a spy of some sort. 

“Don’t you look pretty” she compliments, and I smile. 

“You’re quite spyci yourself” I give back, hoping she got the joke. She did, and starts laughing, hitting my arm and leaning down to the drinks. 

“Good one, want anything to drink?” 

“Please” I urge, looking around for anything. She mixes some different things, eventually handing me a red cup. I take a sip, grimaging of the strong content. 

“What is this?”

“Everything”

“You gave me everything?”

“You can’t throw it out, drink it quickly so you can’t taste it” she challenges, and I take it. I put the cup back up to my lips, taking a deep breath to get ready, before chugging it all down. The taste is awful, but the aftertaste is worse, and she quickly hands me a glass of water to get it all down. 

“I’m never taking a drink from you again” I comment. 

“Oh please, of course you’re gonna”

I look at her and she’s trying to hold in her laughter. Ashley and Chris are finally done with their talking, and walk over to us. 

“I was about to say-” Chris starts, and I hold my breath. Please don’t figure out the plan. 

“Are you coupling with Josh tonight?”

I look at him, confused. I hadn’t seen Josh tonight. Yet. 

“No? What, is he also Cleopatra or something?”

“Well no”

“Is he Caesar?” I ask, still confused. 

“Um, no”

“Then I think we’re not matching” 

“If you say so” he ends, putting his cup up to his face. I see a little smile on the edge of his lips, and when I look at Ashley, she puts her hand in front of her mouth, as if hiding something. Sam looks around, and hits my arm. 

“Well, I at least see one Greek over there” she points, and I follow her gaze. I see a guy, wearing something white with a belt and a gold olive-branch crown. He looked like one of those ancient Greek gods. And he looked really good, arms complimenting his costume perfectly. He was standing with Mike and Emily, who was wearing a couples costume. Batman and Batwoman. Fits them both quite well. 

“Hey!” Josh’s voice sounds, and I hear small snickers coming from Chris and Ashley. Sam puts her hand over her mouth, turning away so I can’t see her face. I look over, seeing Josh wearing a gorgeous pharaoh costume. He has a shoulder cape, large golden headwear and jewels. His stomach is exposed, and I can’t stop myself from looking at it, seeing the curves of what seems like vague, hidden muscles. 

He stops in his tracks, looking me up and down and pointing. 

“Copycat” he accuses in a funny tone, and I roll my eyes. 

“Are you Cleopatra?” I ask teasingly. 

“No, but… wait” he starts, his eyes glued to the gold pearls fastened in my loose hair. He turn over to Chris, pointing directly at him. 

“You planned this!” 

My eyes widen, and I look over at the culprit. 

“Hey, you can’t accuse us when you did the same!” Chris shouts back. Sam almost falls over from laughing. 

“You guys planned this?” I ask, wondering how the hell they managed that. 

“But this was my idea” both Josh and I say in unison, and we both look at each other. Everytime I look at him, my eyes wander to his neck, his exposed skin, and I can’t stop staring. Ashley is quick to answer our statement. 

“Remember that documentary I got you to watch some time ago? Well, Chris also showed Josh a movie… One thing led to another…” she trails off, and I manage to break out of my trance. 

“And your reasoning?” I continue. Sam’s still laughing, hanging onto me for dear life and drying away a tear. 

“Maybe we wanted you two to connect a little” Chris says, still proud of their accomplishment. I look over at Josh, who rolls his eyes at him. I get a slight pain in my chest. Hurt? Maybe. I’ve liked Josh for quite some time, and we’re friends, flirting friends, but he never takes the step it needs. I try to put all the signs out, and I know almost everybody knows at this point, but he still doesn’t do anything. I can’t imagine him wanting anything, as he’s never made moves other than his continuous normal flirting. Ashley has told me that he flirts differently with me, as if there’s something behind it, but I’ve never noticed. 

“Well” I start, getting off the counter. “I guess you failed” 

They all stop in their tracks, Josh looking at me surprisingly. 

“I see a Greek god over there who would probably be delighted by my presence, so I’ll bid you farewell” I point at the guy, who’s still making small talk with the others. I start walking, but Josh is quick to pull my arm, leading me a little away from the others. 

“Hey, you know, it’s just fun. Especially when you look like that” he says, whispering close to my face in quite a seductive tone. The previous alcohol is starting to make its way to my head, and I feel my cheeks redden from the closeness. Still, I feel mad. Why would they do this when he’s never made anything clear for me. For him, this is just fun, a fun coincidence and a chance to tease me, but for me, it’s humiliating. As if I’m about to show how desperate I am for him. 

“No it’s not, you’ve made it clear where you stand when it comes to me, and I’ve made my bed with it” I snap back, surprised by my own tone. His emotions switch, a mix of confusion and then, realisation. He gets it, that it’s not fun to joke about my feelings when I feel this way about him. 

“Okay, listen, this is not about that” he starts, but I put up my finger, stopping him. 

“Josh, I’m getting over you, and we can go back to normal after that, but don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be”

“No, no, no, I need you to listen to me” he says, but I get out of his grip, walking over to the guy. 

I touch his shoulder, making him turn around. The others notice, and Mike makes a whistling sound. 

“Well, hello there” I start, looking up at him through my eyelashes. He’s quite tall, and his bushy brown hair matches the gold on his head completely. He looks me up and down, staring a bit before answering. 

“Well, if it isn’t the queen herself” he murmurs in a slightly suggestive tone. 

It doesn’t take long for us to make conversation. He’s in some of Mike’s classes, and usually hang out and study together. I expected him to be kind of playboy-ish, because of his friend group, but seemed genuine and kind. I was actually kind of smitten, and it felt good to be enhanced with someone who seemed to have a genuine interest in me as well. 

The whole night we talked, danced and drank, sharing stories and talking about ourselves. As for now, we’re sitting on the sofa, his arm laid out on the cushion behind me. I turn a little, seeing Sam smiling at me, and Chris and Ashley in deep conversation. Beside them is known pharaoh leaning against the wall, cup to his face, staring intently. My cheeks automatically flush a little, and I turn back to the god beside me. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, and I’m a little shocked by his suddenness. I smile. 

“We can go to a place which is a little more secluded” I try, giving him a teasing tone. His face lights up, and I feel something flutter in my chest. Butterflies. I take his hand, leading him through the crowd of people and up some stairs. The hallway here is empty, and he doesn’t waste time, pushing me against the wall and kissing me. I return it, but the butterflies don't grow. I feel content at best, a little excited, but not much. The sound of footsteps make both of us turn, his hands moving away from my body. Beside us stands Josh, a concerned look on his face. 

“Something has happened with Ashley, I’ll tell you everything, but you need to come with me” he says in a serious tone. My heart immediately falls, and I get scared. The guy comes forwards, whispering in my ear. 

“I’ll let you two talk, just ask Mike for my number” and he walks down again, giving a slight nod to Josh when passing. It doesn’t seem like Ashley to do something stupid, but I still take both of Josh’s hands in mine, urging him to tell me more. 

“Come on” he says, going further into the hallway, locking up the door which seems to be his room. 

“But, what about Ashley, what happened? Josh, tell me” I urge, the sinking feeling growing larger. He takes my hand, dragging me into the room, closing the door behind us. 

“You happened” he whispers, before slamming me against the door with brute force. Harder and quicker than the other guy. He goes on top of me, pins me with my hands over my head. Capturing my lips on his, he eats me up. It’s passionate, hard. My pulse shoots through the roof, and I can feel his rapid heartbeat on my chest. 

I push him off me, harshly. 

“Josh, what the hell?” I ask, body still hot and aching for his touch. 

“Ashley is okay” he answers, though not really an answer. 

“I think I got it” I snap back, like it wasn’t fucking obvious from what just happened. I continue, not bothering to wait for his explanation. 

“You flirt with me, all the time, I give you all the hints, everything. Even our friends contribute, which, for me, is fucking humiliating because you don’t do shit!” I scold. The building tension in my body finally giving out. My breath is out of order, but I can’t regulate it at this time, emotions coming over me. 

“Then, when I finally decide to move on, to take a step away, you barge in, giving me some fake excuse and take me into your room and…” I don’t know how to continue. I’ve wanted this for so long, wanted him, but not like this. I want something real, not just some jealousy-fuck which will make him feel better about himself, encouraging his complexity. 

“I don’t want this” I blurt out, but he’s still silent, standing away from me. 

“I’ve always wanted something real, a connection and a relationship. I’m not interested in a one-time-fuck with you because of your insecurity issues” I continue, feeling some type of relief wash over me. He looks in my eyes with an expression I can't decipher. Longing? Regret? Anxiety? I take hold of the door handle, making my way out when I feel his hand on my wrist. 

“Will you finally let me talk before you barge out?” he asks, a vulnerable tone to his normally flirty and funny voice. My heart breaks a little for how out of character he makes himself. I turn back to him, sitting down on his bed. He sits down beside me, not bothering to look me in the eyes. 

“I’m sorry” he starts, taking my hand in his yet again, rubbing small circles over my knuckles. 

“I’ve been scared, you know, from all of this. Walking around the bush, never actually doing anything. I thought it would just happen naturally at some point”

“It rarely does-” I try, but he stops me. 

“And seeing you finally pull out it, the situation I mean, just made me realise that we can’t keep going like this, and if I truly want something to happen, I have to take the step” 

I look down, suddenly aware that our knees are touching. 

“I don’t want to be just another fuck for you Josh”

“You could never be that” 

I look up, seeing his eyes are already on me. He made the move before, maybe it’s my time now. I lean towards him, hand cupping his cheek and kiss him. It’s light, careful, and not at all rough. He deepens it, taking my hand from his face and around his neck. He takes hold of my thighs, getting me on top of him. Both of my hands start wandering through his hair, and one his arms goes to the back of my head, pulling me in tighter. I take off his crown, surprised by the weight of it and carefully put it on the nightstand. His hands wander to my exposed waist, fingers seeping under the fabric. 

Though our breathing is heavy, it’s still safe, comforting. I manage to completely relax in his arms, thriving from his touch. He moves his lips, kissing down my jaw and on my neck. I let out involuntary sweet sighs, and can feel him smirk against my skin. He starts biting and sucking, making me moan. There’ll definitely be dark marks on me tomorrow. I feel his bulge growing underneath me, and if as on command, I start grinding on him. He loses his rhythm, interrupting his assault on my neck with whines and groans. I take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, using my fingers to untie the cape, letting it fall off his shoulders. His upper body is stunning, and I stroke my fingers over every part of him, making him whimper. I try to memorise everything, his neck with my lips and his chest and shoulders with my arms. 

“Fuck, at this pace-” he starts, but is interrupted by a moan as I cup his bulge. 

He immediately grabs hand, pulling himself off my face and staring into my eyes. There’s something dark and sinister in them, and I feel myself get wetter from just the look. He turns us around, my back hitting the mattress harshly, losing my breath. He goes over me, kissing my neck and collar while untying my dress, leaving it on the floor. The only things left are my underwear, a matching set of white cotton lace to match the costume. His eyes fill with awe as he drags his hands over, fingers glazing the edge of the cotton. 

“Fucking hell” he whispers, hands going to my back and unclasping my bra. He immediately goes for the kill, leaning over me, pressing, grinding, holding and squeezing. A gasp escapes my lips to begin with, but it is soon followed by sounds I can’t control as his knee rubs my clit. 

“Josh I-” I begin, my warmth building up, getting all flustered and hot. 

“God, you’re beautiful” he whispers, leaving sweet kisses on my neck. He stands up, and the sudden lack of his warmth gets to me. I sit up on the bed, watching as he painfully slowly takes off his garments. It falls to his feet, leaving a sight of his bare naked body. I bite my bottom lip, seeing how huge he is. 

“You’re not wearing underwear” I say, a bit shocked and surprised. 

“Gotta stay true to the character, no?” he teases, leaning over me once again. His lips find mine as his cock rubs gently over my folds, coating itself in my spilled juices. 

“Do you want this?” he whispers against my ear, his hot breath going down my neck. 

“Yes Josh” 

“Tell me how much you want it”

“Please, I need you” 

I feel him push himself into me, filling me up and exhaling. 

“I love it when you beg for me” 

His praise goes straight to the core, and I moan out as he starts moving inside me. He leans on his arms, one going down to rub my clit, making me throw my head back in pleasure. He uses the opportunity to attack my neck, leaving bites and marks down to my chest. 

His pace quickens, and the sounds he makes turns me more and more on. I wouldn’t be surprised it was all sloppy and dripping right now. The knot in my stomach tightens, and I give a cry as pleasure washes over me. He keeps pumping, riding me through the orgasm before finally coming himself. He buries himself deep inside with a last thrust, and I feel him twitch and coat me. He falls down beside me, body sweaty and exhausted. I lean over, kissing him on his lips, and he returns it, draping his arm around me. I pull the covers over us, the coldness of the room finally reaching my sweaty skin. 

“You’re breathtaking” I whisper, and he laughs, pulling me closer in his embrace. 

“And you’re gorgeous” he says, drawing small patterns on my stomach with his fingers. I can still hear the loudness of the music and people’s voices from downstairs. 

“Should we go back down?”

“No, stay here” he pleads, holding me harder, scared that I’m gonna go. 

“Okay” I whisper back, leaning fully into him, and slowly falling asleep.

[0strawberrysorbet0]

𝐴 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟

𝐻𝑎𝑧𝑏𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑙 𝑥 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑒!𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

This is a series so if you'd like to be tagged simply just comment!

Not too happy with this chapter but hope it's good enough 😕

Please do not use/steal my work on this site or any other! Reblogs and likes are appreciated greatly!!

Part one ← Part two → Part three

Summary: When Charlie is called to heaven for a meeting instead of her father she is ecstatic but she meets a boy with some very familiar features..

Warnings: cursing, Adam mentioned, rlly weird layout, idk what else, probs spelling mistakes and weird grammer

Where am I??" Was the only thought coursing through the boy's mind?

He couldn't hear anything but his thoughts, everything else was muffled as if he was underwater, he strolled mindlessly throughout the forest, there were lush plants and exotic flowers of every tone and shape.

He could see birds and insects, things they did not have in his new home...

As he walked forward, it was like he was being pulled, like he didn't control it...

He heard a voice call for him...

"ƙׁׅյׁׅ݊ꪀյׁׅժׁׅ݊ᝯׁׅ֒꯱ dear?? Where-" was all he heard, voice silencing before he heard a yell...

He couldn't make out words but he heard a male's voice shout, who were they shouting for??

As he stumbled through the thicker, darker patch of forest he reached a tree, an apple, sparkling and juicy, shaped like a heart hung from a branch. Just as he went to grab it,

someone clung to the skin on his leg.. Or something.. Biting down on his flesh.. His pale skin turned pink and oozing a cherry-coloured syrup.

As he turned to see the blood dripping he shot up, dripping in a cold sweat as his face whitened.

That dream. Again.

It had been haunting him, it happened every so often but now more than ever. It was always the same.

He wanders, a woman calling for someone and a man screaming then sees the Apple and tries to grab it before being bitten. Then waking up before being able to see the creature.

But what was it?.. He sat up on his bed, grabbed a yellow shoebox from under his bed, he placed it onto his milky white duvet.

He peeled the lid off the box, revealing a little rubber duck... He didn't know where it was from but he had had it for as long as he could remember, there were a few photos of him and his friends... Mainly Emily.

There were a few random things, buttons and feathers, but he finally found what he was looking for, a folded sheet of parchment. He opened it revealing a drawing of the forest, mainly the path he walked and the paths he could see.

He took out the red pen and drew the figure of a woman, shouting... He couldn't see the figure's face or features but he could tell it was a woman.

His father could never see this, nor Sera. They'd think he was plotting against something.. Which he'd never do. He wasn't a monster.

At the bottom of the box was a small gift from Emily, a little box that had been wrapped with gold ribbon. Inside was an apple... An actual real apple.

He hadn't a clue where she got it but it was gorgeous. So shiny and juicy, plump and red, a delicious bloody red...

He had never understood why they were forbidden anyways, yes because of The Fall but surely the fruit wasn't the problem..

He couldn't blame Eve.

He wouldn't have resisted either.

His silence was broken by knocking on his door. "(M/N)? Son? I'm heading off to my meeting, there's some food on the table, take care!"

It was his dad, it was thoughtful of the man to let him know he was leaving but it scared the boy shitless.

He got himself dressed and got to work on his heavenly duties, he strolled through a building, looking for Emily, he had to tell her about his dream.

As he walked past a meeting room he could hear a familiar screeching voice, Adam.

And a voice he hadn't heard before?.. A young girl? Whatever. It wasn't Emily so it didn't matter, he continued to walk until the voice got louder, almost like it was behind him

"Miss?? Excuse me!? You dropped some feathers!!"

Miss? He turned to see the person who had been shouting, it was a girl.

She had red glowing eyes with the sclera being a strong yellow color.

Her hair was the same straw blonde colour as his hair, it was tied up into a strange ponytail, in circular shapes almost, she was wearing a blood-red suit and her cheeks were rosy and pink.

What a strange angel... She didn't even look like an angel...

He just turned and continued to walk, going to find Emily.

..............................................................................................

"Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven and ruled by beings of Pure light, Angels that worshipped good and shielded all from evil..." A blonde girl read aloud,

As she flicked through the pages she looked at the part in between the section where Lucifer and Lilith tempted Eve and the banishment.

It was burnt, the small gap, unnoticeable at first glance, but with the number of times she had read it, she could tell someone had burnt out a few pages, burning part of the story...

"Charlie?" Her girlfriend said at the doorframe, an extermination had just happened, she looked out the window at the burning city.

She needed to put a stop to this, these sinners surely didn't deserve it. Well at least some of them.

The day seemed to melt away quickly, they had talked about commercials and... Well they all had some unique ideas...

Her phone started to ring, and she jumped up and went to answer it.

It was her father? Strange... He never called.

But he wanted her to go to heaven instead of him? Holy shit... Maybe she could change heaven's mind after all...

Before she knew it she was there, heaven..

When Charlie arrived she noticed how pristine everything was, light, bright, the place was practically blinded by white light.

She now stood before The Adam, or as he called himself (much to her dismay) The original dick. She had put all the ideas she could (before he'd interrupt) onto the table but they smushed it all.

To sum it up... The meeting went horribly. She had not only been turned down but completely ignored. Her whole life she had believed angels to be kind, caring creatures... There was a reason they made it up there after all.

But she wasn't so sure now. She wasn't so sure about anything anymore.

As she was leaving she saw a pair of wings stroll past the door, they were full and stuck out proudly, glowing a bright white. The feathers looked almost like cotton candy as they surfed the breeze, one or two floating off.

One had dropped at her feet. She picked it up before trying to get a look at the angel, they had long blonde hair, and she presumed it was a woman.

"Miss?? Excuse me!? You dropped some feathers!!" She shouted about the feathers, maybe the angel would need them? Or maybe she just wanted to see the angel's face. She couldn't tell but she felt somewhat connected to the being.

The angel turned gracefully, piercing eyes staring through her, beautiful, beautiful eyes, they were the colour of a rich berry, a beautiful purple, like a flower, soft and delicate. Yet the angel's stare could have ripped her in half by that alone.

Charlie stood there, not making a sound so the angel turned around. Bored with her it walked off through the corridor.

She needed to know who this was and why they looked like her mother.

..............................................................................................

"I still dunno what ya mean by 'she looked like my mother' toots, who are ya even talkin' about again?" Angel replied, pouring himself another drink as Charlie told the spider demon bout the meeting and her encounter with the angel.

"I'm telling you!! She looked just like my mom!" She said, waving a picture of her mother in front of Angel's face.

"Jeez, okay calm! I get it!" He slapped the picture away "Why are ya so bothered though?"

"I don't know. I just felt connected to her.. " she said, petting Keekee, who curled into her lap and purred at the affectionate touch.

"For all you know it might've not even been a girl, just let it go toots" he took a big swing of his drink before pouring another drink.

"I'm telling you I feel connected to them, I... I know they looked like my mother." She sighed.

Hopefully, she'd be able to go up to heaven soon, to win them over and to see that angel again.

Tag list - @demstarno @kenny-619 @bunbunboysworld @lovedesperatevampire

@honey-valentin3 @type-ink

[murainhell]

Helluva Boss Spoilers!

The longer it's been since Full Moon was released, the more I think I like the fight. The writing and acting is incredible, they have done a fantastic job.

I know some people have taken my drawing as Blitzo being the one who acted wrong, while my friends think I'm blaming Stolas because I defend Blitzo when they complain about him. But no, I'm not taking sides. They are both wrong and at the same time right and their reactions are perfectly justified. They are two complex characters with complicated traumas that are clashing at the worst time. As a psychologist, I'm loving all of this. 

All of Stolas' opening dialogue is correct. You can tell he's been thinking about it for a long time, practicing, figuring out exactly what he wanted to say. That's great. The only problem is that when you practice a conversation, in your head nobody answers you. There were two possible outcomes, that Blitzo would say yes and they would see what happens after that together, or that he would reject him and there was no longer any reason to continue the conversation.

But Blitzo reacts in a way he didn't expect. Blitzo begs him not to change anything. “I can do better.”

The entire HB team has done a brilliant job of letting us feel Blitzo as a kid saying the same thing to his father. By now he is flooded by his own trauma. He doesn't accept the gift, he wants everything to stay the same. He wants the book, because:

It's something that works for them, it's something that is simple, why change it? Changing it is uncharted territory, and his past relationships have been complicated. But Stolas doesn't really know about those relationships.

Having the book is an excuse to see each other, it's a chain that binds them together as long as Blitzo needs it for his work. It means Stolas won't abandon him, they have a deal. But for Stolas that same tether is unbearable, because he knows what it's like to be tied down in a relationship, he's suffered the effects of that with Stella, and that means he's condemning Blitzo to the same situation, turning him into the monster he feels he is. But Blitzo doesn't really know that.

Believing it's a lie, a role-play, hurts Stolas, but how to blame Blitzo when he believes he's unlovable? He hates himself, how can Stolas be serious?

And I was hurt when Stolas said that for Blitzo it's always about sex... Bird boy, that's all he knows with you. And you know he thinks you're only there for the sex too, he tells you that in S1E7! Use your words to make him understand!!! 

But Stolas believes that everything he is witnessing is the answer. And he gives up. He's saying goodbye... ready to disappear from Blitzo's life, abandoning him when he can't give him what he asks for, when he's not enough. 

The reaction of both is understandable: Blitzo is ready for a fight (his way of communicating), he reacts poorly to the fact that Stolas is sending him out of his life because in the end he's confirming that rich people are like that, he's been a plaything for a while and now he's left behind; Stolas shuts down, he reacts poorly because he's been suffering yelling and hitting things and insults from Stella for years. 

And it breaks my heart. “Just look my way” Stolas, he's doing it. Blitzo is screaming and crying but he's looking at you. He's mad, but you just have to listen to him. Really listen to him. Because Blitzo has every right in the world to be upset, everything he says is true.

Stolas has dropped an emotional bomb on him, one he wasn't prepared for because in his head no one would want that with him. And then, without giving him time to process, to think, he's dismissing him.

He charges his fury at the social rift between them, but it's just that that difference has existed for as long as he can remember. Blitzo was sold to be a playmate for Stolas. Their relationship began within an abuse of power, where Blitzo sells his body for the book. Stolas is privileged enough not to have thought of any of that until now. It's not that he thinks badly of Stolas (although in his eyes, Stolas is confirming it by sending him away, he's a broken toy), it's facts. They need to put them on the table to grow. 

But Stolas is also within his rights not to listen when that's the tone he's using with him. He's using his coping mechanism to endure the fights with Stella. Blitzo is also confirming his worst fears; sending him away, removing that source of emotional damage he's suffering, is understandable, though by doing that he robs Blitzo of the opportunity to choose and make himself heard. 

Still, they needed this fight. Let's face it, they were not at all in a situation to start a serious relationship. They need it to know what they want, spend time without obligations and chains (as free equals) and to have space to have a real conversation. Because they don't talk, they don't have emotionally vulnerable conversations, where they can understand why the other is the way they are. 

I firmly believe they're going to figure it out. I believe in them. But we'll have to wait. In the meantime, don't hate any of them for reacting like complex souls.

Let's be Team Stolitz.

[theworldofotps]

Painting (Drabble)

Pairing: Lord Debling x Reader Word Count: 743 Description: Y/n is struggling with a painting when she recieves some much needed help.

So, I have never written fanfiction for Bridgerton before but after watching the first half of season 3 and meeting Lord Debling I couldn't help myself. I'm also very nervous to post this because it's a bit out of my comfort zone but I hope you enjoy anyway.

Dedicated to: @madhatterbri who encouraged me to write this, helped form the plot and is overall one of the best. I appreciate you so much thank you! (I haven't added my normal tag list since those are usually just for wrestling. If you'd like to be added to a tag list of anything I write besides wrestling let me know!) __________ Y/n let out a soft huff as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, staring at the canvas in front of her. She’d spent the last two hours trying to paint a bird from the book set on a stool in front of her. This was a painting she just didn’t want to mess up on but the more she stared at it the worse it seemed to look.

“Is everything alright m’lady?”

“Yes Ruth, just having a bit of difficulty getting these colors to work and blend the way that I wish them too.”

“Please let me know when you are ready, and I shall draw the bath for you.”

“Thank you, Ruth.”

Watching the maid leave, Y/n turns back towards her painting and examines the book once more. Adjusting the apron she wore over her dress to keep from ruining it, she dipped into her paints again. More time passed and her frustrations only grew as the colors started running and made the bird look like a mess.

Dropping the paintbrush in the pot of water she hung her head in defeat, deciding to just start all over again. Not having heard the door open she nearly jumped, feeling a pair of arms wrapping around her before a chuckle sounded in her ear.

“Sorry to startle you love I thought you heard me enter.”

“That’s alright my lord I just was focusing on something else.”

Alfred glanced around to be sure they were alone before pressing a soft kiss to her neck.

“Tell me what’s the matter.”

“I’m trying to paint this bird and all of my colors keep running I’ve spent hours on it but alas to no avail.”

Remaining silently as his eyes drifted over the canvas in front of them, since they had began courting he was trying to take interest in her hobbies. When he found out she had a love for painting much like his mother, it was one he quickly did his best to learn all he could about it.

“Allow me to offer my assistance to you.”

Grabbing her hand gently together they picked up the brush, the sparks of electricity she felt as they moved together dipping into her paint pallet. She could barely concentrate at the feel of him pressed against her back. When the brush touched the canvas, she let out a soft laugh.

“What is it brining you such joy my dear?”

“Your beard tickles my cheek.”

Y/n spoke softly as his own smile grew to match hers the two talking in soft whispers as he helped her fix the once ruined picture.

“What do you think?”

“It looks so much better thank you for your help now we both must sign it.”

She said pointing to the feather quill and pot of ink sat on the desk a few feet away from them, Alfred reached over grabbing the quill. Signing the name Debling then placing the quill in her hand so she could sign her last name.

Placing it back in the ink pot Y/n slowly turned to face him their eyes meeting hers lighting up as his softened.

“Miss. Y/n  I know this may come forth as a bit forward but may I kiss you?”

He asked a slight nervous quiver to his voice if you listened close enough she remained silently causing him to clear in throat. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel pressured into anything. After a moment her smile grew as she leaned closer to him their lips brushing in the softest touch before a knock on the door sent them apart. Composing themselves she turned to see Ruth entering one more.

“Excuse me miss but your mother is looking for you.”

“Thank you, Ruth please tell her, that I will be right there.”

Ruth nodded, leaving them alone again y/n sighing softly she turned back to Alfred who gently touched her cheek.

“I must be going as it is rather late, I shall call upon you tomorrow afternoon would that be alright?”

“Yes, I would enjoy that very much my lord.”

The pair left the room and y/n saw him to the front entrance, his fingers once more touching her cheek in a bid farewell. Watching him leave she sighed her arms wrapping around herself, the thought of his arms around her caused her face to heat up. Turning, she went off in search of her mother.

[assortedvillainvault]

Idk if you having writing requests open or anything but is there a chance you could write headcanons for Captain Hook and Y/N who is royalty (Prince/princess/king/queen/monarch/etc)? tia!!

You can always see if requests are open in my blog description! And, y’know, the few times they haven’t been I’ve just turned off asks to be frank, so you’re golden don’t worry.

Captain Hook x Royal!Reader

I’m seeing this as a political runaway situation.

You have no interest in adhering to the strangling confines of your birth role – but a kidnapping gone wrong wasn’t exactly your preferred exit plan.

Captain James Hook blasts his way aboard your vessel with smoke and cannon, and while the cries of your officers make you wince, you know the only reason he was able to get within 1000 yards of your vessel is because the council had surreptitiously rendered your support ships as ‘needed elsewhere’.

Hook likely wasn't a paid assassin in the traditional sense, but he was a convenient excuse for your enemies to place a puppet on the throne faster than one could register you were missing.

You gather your courage and march towards the pirate, head held high amongst the blades of his men. You try not to look at the bodies of your crew as you step in their blood.

“Captain James Hook, I take it?”

He bows and sweeps his ridiculously large hat off with a smirk that you tried very hard not to be at least a little taken by. “Your Royal Highness~” You whip your hand away as he moves to kiss it, and you catch his eye twitch a little before he smooths his face back out. He gestures back to his ship. “Care to join us?”

Though phrased nicely, it wasn’t a suggestion.

Your hostage situation turns out to be the kind of blessing you only mildly regret. True, you can’t leave the ship. But the open sea? The chance to finally use your arms and legs for more than bland ballroom dances? The fact no-one will slap your hand down if you flip Mr. Starkey the bird?

Bliss.

Hook always uses your title, playing up his gentleman tendencies even as you roll your eyes and grow more comfortable aboard ship. He’ll take even the slightest chance to have you on his arm, and makes sure that you have ways to keep clean and eat better than the rest of the crew.

You’re almost unrecognisable. Hair loose, clothes simple, hands rough from work as you learn the ropes aboard ship just for something to do. But even as far from grace as you’ve fallen, you know the price on your head must be in the thousands, and even if your old kingdom doesn’t want you, there are plenty of others who would pay.

“Captain.”

“Hmm?” Hook idly plays his good hand over the piano keys. You’re in his cabin, the night outside dark.

You draw a deep breath in. And out. “When are you going to ransom me?” Your voice only shook a little, and you allow yourself a little bit of pride for that.

Silence. Hook spins to face you, eyes soft. “Darling...” He begins. He rises, hook glinting, and comes to cup your cheek.

“...I abandoned any thought of your ransom the moment you came aboard, love."

[paradiseismine]

Hii could I req Trevor x Ghost reader? Just anything smut or whatever i love your work tyy 🫶🏻

See you in your dreams - Trevor Spengler x ghost reader

Pairing: Trevor Spengler (Ghostbusters Afterlife) x ghost! f!reader

Warnings: softer smut; some hurt/comfort; some fluff; references to Wuthering Heights (if you squint); also maybe kinda long hehehe

Love note from Nina: omggg you guysss I got my first request!! I got sooo excited for this, I’m sorry it took me a few days. I did some research on how ghosts work in the Ghostbusters universe, but this may have some slips here and there. Hope you like it, anon! 💕 also: feel free to send me more reqs, I’d love to hear (read?) your ideas!

Growing up, Trevor always detested going to aunt Cathy’s house. Although very big and castle-like, it was always weirdly cold, somewhat decayed and had this creepy aura in there - kind of similar to the house he had moved in with his family a while ago, and that was his first argument when his mom, Callie, said she wanted to visit her sister. Aunt Cathy was Callie’s only sister, and one of the few family members they had left, so he couldn’t say no to his mom when she pleaded for him and Phoebe to tag along. They were only staying there for a week, tops, she promised.

As they arrived after a four hour drive, Trevor greeted aunt Cathy and helped Phoebe bring her luggage upstairs. It was an unusually big house, so they could each have a bedroom of their own. That made it a bit easier. Trev was feeling pretty introspective and definitely needed some time for himself. After some fancy dinner where aunt Cathy and mom talked about uncle Heath’s death throughout the entire three-course meal, he excused himself to get ready for bed.

A few minutes later, his mom knocked on the bedroom door.

- Get some rest, Trev - Callie said, approaching and running her fingers through her son’s hair in a lovingly manner, as he was sitting on the bed. - You deserve some time off after all of that ghost busting. There are no ghosts here, you’re safe to rest.

- No ghosts here??? That’s what we’ll see! - Phoebe yelled from the corridor, joking. Callie had left the door open.

Trevor chuckled and smiled at his mom.

- Thank you, mom. I will. Get some rest too, you must be tired.

She kissed his forehead and clicked the lights off before shutting the door, leaving him alone in the bedroom. Trevor let out a deep sigh and lied in bed, tired. Shortly after, he drifted off.

To someone who would normally have a hard time falling asleep on a new environment, that was pretty unusual. Maybe it was just tiredness, but something made Trevor sleep very soundly that night. He even started dreaming.

The dream set was some sort of forest. Not too dense, so he could still see the sky in a charming shade of blue. The birds were chirping softly and he could smell the grass, one of his favorite smells. That dream was weirdly vivid, for some reason. After walking around the forest for a minute or so, he spotted a girl dressed in a long white dress. It was you. Your hair cascaded along your shoulders and back, beautifully, as you turned around and noticed him. You had a small basket in your hands, and were absentmindedly picking out flowers next to a small cottage. He assumed it was your house.

You waved at him gently, smiling. He smiled back and felt confident enough to approach you and talk.

- Uh, hi - he said, a bit nervously. No conversation ever felt so real in a dream before.

- Hi Trevor - you responded, calmly. How did you know his name? - You created such a beautiful setting for this dream. Did you grow up in the countryside or something?

- I, uh… Not really, I just feel very at peace near nature, I guess. - he was able to finally look into your eyes.

The connection you both felt was instant. You didn’t know that much about him yet, and he knew nothing about you, but somehow, it was like a magnet was drawing your bodies closer. You two were paralyzed by each other’s gaze for a second, smiling shyly when you were able to look away.

- Do… Do I know you? I mean, you knew my name and everything, so I…

- Not really, no - you answered, shrugging. - My name is y/n, nice to meet you.

- You’re just something my mind made up, then? I mean, it makes sense that my brain would create a girl for me to talk to and stuff…

- No, I existed before being on your mind. - you pursed your lips together, not sure if you should have revealed yourself so early into the conversation.

- Y-you’re not a creation of my mind? - he inquired, utterly confused.

You chuckled and put some more flowers in the basket.

- Do you want to come in for some tea? - your head pointed at the cottage. - Maybe we can talk more comfortably in there.

- Hm, sure - he nodded. - But how do you know there’s tea in there? Is it your house?

- No, love - you responded, grabbing his chin for a second. - Your mind created this place. I was able to come in a few minutes before you showed up, just to help arrange everything and get some basic information about your life. You seemed so tired, I just wanted to help you release that tension. You’re a really beautiful boy, you know?

- Thank you - Trev laughed, slightly blushing. There were so many questions on his mind. - I mean, let’s go ahead and have some tea then.

You guided him into the cottage and sat him down on a chair next to the kitchen table. The table was already set with a porcelain tea pot and beautiful tea cups. You put the flowers you had picked on a small vase at the center of the table, and set the empty basket aside.

- Did you arrange this before I arrived?

- Aren’t we talking too much about me, darling? Tell me, how do you feel? Like, how do you really feel? - you sat down next to him and put your hand on his upper back.

Trevor slowly broke down crying as he spoke. He was so tired, but felt like he could never show any signs of it. He had to be strong for his mom, for Phoebe, for the Ghostbusters. He had to “man up”, be the man of the house and everything. There was never time for his feelings or for vulnerability. Until now. You embraced him gently, as he suppressed his sobs after communicating those afflictions to you.

- It’s ok, love - you reassured him. - You can cry, you can be yourself here. You’re safe. It’s your own mind, you can do whatever you want.

Trev stayed in your embrace a bit longer, stabilizing his breathing. His arms stopped shaking around your waist, and softly let go of your sides. He distanced himself slowly, just enough to look you in the eyes. Then, without any further notice, he put his lips to yours.

It was a very soft and delicate kiss. He held both of your hands in his, until he had to use one of them to get your long hair out of the way. Caressing your cheek, he deepened the kiss, faintly moaning into it.

- It feels so good to kiss you - you whispered, slightly embarrassed. - I haven’t been kissed in so long…

He guided your face to kiss you once again. It was like he couldn’t contain himself. Your lips felt so good against his. He was so gentle and respectful, you wanted to grab him by the collar and attack his lips with yours.

- You’re… you’re literally my dream girl - he admitted, kissing your palm. - I wish I could meet you in real life and spend more time with you.

- I’m a ghost, Trev - you confessed, more embarrassed than before. - But I’m a, say, rarer type…

- W-what do you mean by that? - he looked at you, confused, his eyes seeming a bit watery again.

- I’m a dream ghost. I can only appear physically in people’s dreams. - you explained, in a more serious tone, grabbing his hand softly. - I don’t haunt houses, or objects, or anything like that. I haunt minds. I can only exist when someone’s dreaming, so I can tune in to their dream. I sensed your presence and ended up in your conscience tonight.

- But I-I’m a ghostbuster… - his eyes blinked in disbelief.

- I know - you chuckled, a sad gaze lingering in your eyes. - It was such an amazing coincidence… You’re not gonna put me in a proton pack, will you?

- Of course not - his eyes widened and his hands tightened their grip around yours, trying to reassure you that he meant no harm.

- I knew it - you responded, lightly pecking his lips again, then letting go of his hands. - You need someone who understands, and I really wish I could be that person. You’ve got a beautiful mind, and oh, such a pure heart, Trevor Spengler…

- Touch me - he said as you stood up, and it nearly sounded like a question. His pleading eyes were desperately looking for yours. - Kiss me, anything. I just need to feel your touch. Please.

- You’re so warm - you put your hand on his cheek, sweetly. - and I’m a cold ghost girl…

- Don’t say that, y/n - he took your hand from his cheek and kissed your palm once again, looking up at you with pleading eyes. - I’m having the best time here with you. Please.

Trevor stood up, towering over you; leaned in again and kissed your lips, more eagerly this time. His right hand lightly grabbed the hair of your nape while his left hand caressed your cheek. You reached for his upper arms, shyly, wonderstruck by that kiss.

He then gently pushed you up against the wall. Trev seemed way more comfortable now, wild even. His lips embraced yours in an inebriating way, hands gripping your waist, hips brushing against yours. You could feel his arousal through his trousers, which sent you even closer to the edge. You felt the dream setting shift, walls disappearing around you for a second. When you opened your eyes, the setting was a bedroom - Trevor had understood that this was a dream, and he could control it as much as he wanted.

- I think I know what you’ve set your mind to, mister Spengler - you broke the kiss, chuckling and gesturing at the huge bed in front of you. The walls were decorated with flowers and beautiful curtains. It was all very lovely and romantic.

- Do you… do you want it too? - Trevor seemed concerned if you desired him as much as he desired you. - I mean, I -I felt so good kissing you, I-

- I would love to - you answered, fondly, as your hands ran through his hair. - Let’s just… Take it slow, ok?

He nodded, his lips red and slightly parted. Trevor leaned in to kiss you once again, much slower this time. The kiss was sensual and dainty, his lips tracing yours in a magnetic way, his hands cupping your face and your own resting on his shoulders and chest.

He put his hands to your waist, pulling your body closer to his in a slow and gentle motion. In reaction, you put your hands to the hair on his nape, holding it rather than pulling it. His hands roamed up to your shoulders, caressing your cold skin. You broke the kiss and nodded, looking into his eyes, giving him your permission.

He pulled down the sleeves of your dress and it slowly fell, pooling at your feet. You were completely bare underneath it, and Trevor let out an audible gasp at the sight of your naked body.

- Can I… Can I touch you, y/n? - Trevor stuttered, mesmerized at your beauty.

- Please… - you moaned, nearly whispering.

- You’re so beautiful - he muttered, his lips parted in awe, fingers gently exploring your breasts and the delicate curve of your waist. - You’re quite literally a dream…

You chuckled softly as Trevor kissed your neck and collar bones, his warm lips like fireworks on your cold skin. You gestured for him to take off his clothes as well, and he gave you permission to do so. Soon enough, you two were both stripped in front of each other. Trevor’s body was so beautiful. His smooth pale chest, his lightly toned arms… all of it made you shiver in anticipation. He took you in his arms again, and you couldn’t help yourself any longer.

- Take me, Trev, I’m yours - you whispered to his ear, enraptured by the pleasure you felt under his warm, soft human hands.

Trev tightened his grip on your waist and swooped you off of your feet. In a couple seconds, your back was against the mattress, as he had carefully deposited your body on the bed. He climbed on top of you and continued trailing his kisses down to your breasts.

Groping your waist firmly, he gently suckled on your nipples, faint moans now escaping your lips. Trevor kissed your body with such amazement, it looked like he wouldn’t stop. He kissed lower and lower down your belly, until he reached your wet slit.

- You don’t have to - you said, running your fingers through his hair to stop him, as his head slowly went downward.

- But I want to - Trevor tilted his head, looking into your eyes. - Can I?

- Well, ye - you could barely finish the word before Trevor dunk his head between your thighs again. - Yes…

He licked up and down your slit, his hot mouth attached to your core, causing your legs to tremble in bliss. He held your thighs apart with a tight grip, as if to detain you from distancing yourself from his touch. His tongue was rolling around your clit, tasting your core with such pleasure, he was nearly getting off on it as much as you. Your sweet juices were dripping down his chin as he lapped you up hungrily, delighted with your taste.

- Trevor… - you moaned, before arching your back on the bed, reaching your mercurial high.

His eyes stared into yours, half-lidded, as he seemed proud of himself for making you moan his name. No boy had ever looked at you in such an intense, lustful way.

As your whole body trembled, he kept going until you had ridden out of your high, you two savoring each second it had lasted.

- Felt good, beautiful? - he asked, a cocky smirk on his face.

- Amazing… - you panted, breathless.

He roamed his hands all over your body once again, warming up your cold skin, making you quiver and tingle. You sat up on the bed to capture his lips, tasting yourself as you kissed him.

- Is there anything else I could do for you, y/n? - he asked, enchanted by you.

- Yes, lay back, my love - you whispered, guiding him to lay down on the bed.

You got on top of him, one leg to each side of his waist. Reaching for his lips one last time, you kissed him passionately, wanting him to remember you. It was only a dream, you knew that. But you wanted him to remember those feelings, that touch, everything.

Going for his earlobe, you nibbled and sucked on it until Trev couldn’t help but moan and squirm under you. His neck was next. It soon got covered in kisses and hickies (it was only a dream and wouldn’t leave any trace behind, either way), just like his chest. You roamed your hands gently all over his torso, savoring the heat and softness of his human skin.

As you sat up on his lap, your heart was beating out of your chest with desire, but you wanted to make sure Trevor was comfortable. You wanted to be his dream girl, not his nightmare.

- May I? - you asked, softly, as your hand held his throbbing erection.

- Yes, y/n, please - he pleaded, lightly panting.

You raised and lowered your hips slowly, engulfing his cock inside you. It had been so long since you felt anything like this… Your muscles were tightening around Trevor’s shaft as you got to its base, and you could feel him shyly thrusting his hips up to meet yours.

- You’re mine now, Trevor Spengler - you whispered, riding him, ecstatic. You threw your head back, getting shivers down your spine, your hands on his chest.

- I’m yours, y/n - he moaned. Trevor’s beautiful dark eyes squinted in pleasure, his mouth opening slightly. His hands grabbed onto your hips to help you with your movements, as he was eager for more.

You don’t know how long it lasted, but your juices were all over his shaft, his inner thighs, everything. Every second of Trevor’s touch, even if he touched you for all of the eternity, still wouldn’t be enough. He was perfect, warm, soft, delicate, and so precise in every single little thing he did.

Trevor whispered your name, his voice faint and raspy, pleading. Your eyes met his immediately.

- Please, I-I - he stuttered, his eyes rolling in pleasure as he tried to speak. - I need to-

- Do it, my love - you grabbed his face.

His eyes squeezed shut as Trevor held your body to his, and with a louder moan, spilled into you. Ugh, he was so soft and warm. You missed being human just like him. As he came down from his high, you got off of him gently, trying no to hurt his sensitive shaft.

As you laid down next to him, you two snuggled up together in a thick warm blanket, enjoying each other’s scent. Trevor was playing with your hair as you rested your head on his chest. All you do could do was thank God, fate, the universe, anything that could be responsible for that encounter. Trev seemed to be doing the same, as he broke the silence a minute later.

- There must be a way - he said, determined. - I… I want to get to know you better, y/n. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this with anyone before, I…

Suddenly, the whole room started losing definition, becoming blurrier and less colorful. Objects started vanishing slowly, and even though Trevor seemed utterly confused and scared, you already knew what this meant.

- Oh dear - you muttered, sad, gently caressing his cheek. - You’re waking up… Seems like we don’t have much more time together, at least for now. I enjoyed your company so much, Trevor. You’re a really special person. See you in your dreams tomorrow, if we’re both lucky. Try to sleep around 9:30 p.m., if you can.

He felt his body moving without his mind’s command, and the sight of you slowly vanishing from his grasp.

- No… No - he slurred still in his sleep, sad, but defeated. - Come back… Please.

But he woke up. His eyes opened and he realized it was already morning. His mom and Phoebe were arguing in the nearby bathroom over something stupid, and because of their bickering, he woke up.

He turned on the bed, frustrated, trying to fall asleep again, trying to find you; up until he noticed something had happened in his pants… A nocturnal emission. He was wet through his underwear and pajama bottoms, a visible patch of his own cum.

Great, he thought. How am I going to hide this? Y/n better come back to see me again tonight. 9:30, she said. I have to write this down.

[bbxkruger]

Embarrassing…

Summary: One humiliating memory you’ll never let Reiner live down is that one time he grabbed some random woman’s ass at a social event, thinking it was you.

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Reader

A/N: this is very short and I did not proofread or anything, just a silly thought I had

You two were at an art exhibit that Jean was being featured in. It had been a while since you two showed up, not long after the art was unveiled you had been separated from Reiner by some old friends to catch up. After another hour or so, he excused himself from Connie and Jean to take a stroll around the gallery, he saw you on the other side of the room looking at some wired sculpture of a bird.

Well, at least he thought it was you. To this day he still doesn’t know how he mistook that woman for you. Maybe it was the wine that was given out to the guests, or the fact that the woman had the same hairstyle as yours as well as the same colored dress.

He approached you, naturally hovering behind you and looking at the sculpture for a few moments before giving you a small tap on the butt to get your attention. He smirks when he feels you bristle in response.

“Hey, did you see the—“ His mind goes blank for a moment when he looks down to see some random ass woman looking up at him, a rather bewildered expression on her face from her ass being touched by a stranger.

“Oh— dear god!” He exclaimed, much louder than he would have intended in a normal scenario, feeling his face pale before turning beet red in mortification. Within that second he must have jumped back five feet from the woman, his hands raised in front of him as word diarrhea starts coming out of his mouth.

He tries to make himself look as non threatening as possible to the woman, wanting to show her that what he did was purely by an error of judgement. This only caused the woman to be disturbed even more, watching a 6’2 200 something pound man with a bright pink face stuttering and stumbling over his words.

“No— I wasn’t— Oh my god— You look like my wife, you see… and— You and her have the same— No, not like that! It’s just your hair looks like hers so—!“ His sputtering is cut off by your hand on his shoulder, the commotion of his outburst drawing attention from people nearby. Once the lady saw you, she understood what would have taken him years to properly articulate. She gives him an awkward nod in forgiveness, before walking away.

The rest of the night you assured him it was a mistake, not only did he feel awful for touching that woman but it was even worse because he touched a woman that wasn’t you. You wanted to hit him for being so ridiculous when he said he expected to be angry at him. After that, he insisted on going up to the woman, wanting to make it up to her somehow.

“Reiner, you’re not buying her that piece, it’s almost eight thousand, dollars…” You hissed at him in exasperation, watching him duck his head and shove his hands in his pockets as a response before shuffling away from the painting he was pointing at.

He seriously considered driving the car off the road on the way home, knowing he won’t be able to sleep properly for the next few months without that crossing his mind. And the fact that you couldn’t stop laughing didn’t help much once you guys left the exhibition, either.

[loxosceleslolo]

Call It Magic

my Elden Ring brainrot is so severe that I have yet another AU longfic in the works. This one involves both the Heart Stolen "ending" and the question: "what if Ansbach met us at the First Step instead of Varre?" (this was crossposted to AO3 if you prefer to read there)

“Can you teach me how to do that, Sir Ansbach?” 

Sir Ansbach looked up from the book in his hand, the crease between his snowy brows deepening slightly like a furrow in freshly fallen snow. His eyes, sharp as a winter morning, met Folly’s eager gaze.

Folly pointed to the book, her finger trembling slightly with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “That. Readin’. Writin’, too, if you could. Please.” Her words tumbled out in a rush, like water over stones.

“You never learned?” 

“Can’t say that book learning was a real priority out there in the Badlands. Not with the sellswords I worked for, neither.” Folly tossed her black hair, obsidian waves catching the light, and squared her shoulders, almost daring Ansbach to say something about her history.

“What makes you interested in reading, if I may ask?” Ansbach's tone was gentle, coaxing.

“It’s magic. It’s magic I can learn, even.”

“How so?” Ansbach leaned forward slightly.

Folly leaned over Ansbach’s shoulder, close enough that the warmth of her breath ghosted across his cheek. She traced a letter with her fingertip, the touch reverent. The scent of ink and vellum clung to him, an intoxicating mixture that made her heart beat a little faster, like a caged bird. “You draw these symbols…”

She traced another word, her finger dancing across the page. “…and you can convey your thoughts across any distance. Across years, or centuries even, if the book holds up. It’s as close to real magic as anything, I reckon.” Her voice was hushed, filled with awe at the power contained in those simple marks.

Ansbach smiled, the expression transforming his stern features. Bright, genuine smiles from him were a rare and precious thing, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. “Was that the only reason?” His eyes twinkled with knowing amusement.

Folly’s cheeks burned, a rosy hue spreading across her face like wildfire. Of course it wasn’t. She’d take any excuse to be close to the older man, to bask in his presence like a sunflower turning towards the Erdtree. Not that she would admit it. 

“If I’m going to be the Elden Ring’s steward until our Divinity and Luminary awaken, I should know how to read and write, shouldn’t I? I’d much rather do it myself than trust a scribe.” The words came out in a rush, a thin veil over her true motivations.

“Fair enough.” Ansbach gently closed the book, the soft thud resonating in the quiet air. He set it on his bedroll with careful reverence, then picked up a stick, its rough texture a stark contrast to the smooth pages of the book. “We’ll begin with learning the letters.”

Folly picked up a stick herself, mimicking Ansbach’s posture. She traced the marks he made, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Like this?”

He laughed, full and hearty, the sound warming Folly from the inside out. “You’re as quick a study with that stick as you are with a blade, dear Folly!”

Dear Folly.

Those two words set Folly’s skin ablaze, as if she’d been touched by the sun itself. They left her feeling as if an entire swarm of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach, their wings beating in time with her racing heart.

Words were magic, indeed. And in that moment with the warmth of Ansbach’s praise enveloping her, Folly felt as if she had discovered the most powerful spell of all.

[doahaesunshine]

Chapter 7

Chapter WC: 2573

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Chapter kinda hurts

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You know it’s killing you right? This sadness.”

Seungcheol wasn’t judging his friend, and it was never his intention either, but he couldn’t help feeling like trash for trying to force himself into his friend's thoughts. He just wished he could go into their mind and pluck away at all the bad memories. 

A loud scoff resonated through the room, forcing Seungcheol back into reality.

“Cheolie. I’m fine.” 

Their words came out weak and a piercing silence followed after their sentence. 

“Seriously, don’t worry about me. I’m still truckin’ along.” 

The words were hollow. Just silly noises to distract Seungcheol from his concerns. The worst thing was that it almost worked.

Seungcheol wanted so badly to believe his friend, he really did. The desperation for things to be good threatened to overwrite any rational thought. If he needed to pretend, so be it. He would be happy to oblige.

But when he saw the too-dark under eyes and the terrifyingly prominent lines of cheekbones, he knew make-believe was impossible. His friend was eroding and if he didn’t intervene it was going to eat them alive.

“You need to listen to me. Sooner or later this isn’t going to be something you can joke about. You stopped going to therapy into the first year of grieving. You gave yourself no time to heal. It was straight to business, class, work, responsibilities.”

He regretted it. The words came out too harsh and Seungcheol felt like an asshole. The only response he received was silence. His friend avoided eye contact and remained silent. 

“I-uh.” They stuttered over their words as they stood. “I gotta go-”

This was it, this was the moment his childhood friend realized they didn’t want him around anymore.

“Y/N, wait!” 

December 29

Seungcheol’s phone blared through his bedroom. For the past four days he was waking up to his ringtone and a list of missed call notifications. Rolling over, he ignored the phone as he pressed his face into his pillow. After finding the bag in the river he shut himself in his room.

He used the excuse of needing to think so that he could stay awake late at night, hoping that his friend would call or text. It was a fantasy that he knew he had to throw away, but he didn’t have the willpower to bring himself back to reality. 

His phone rang again and with a groan he swiped it off his nightstand and answered.

“Hello?” His voice was rough and in desperate need of water.

“Hi. May I speak to Seungcheol Choi?” The voice was feminine and unfamiliar.

“This is he.” He replied.

“My name is Gywnn Harris, I’m a detective working with the local police department.” Her tone was polite and calm. “I’m calling to inform you that I am leading the investigation of the disappearance of your friend, Y/N L/N. If you’re able I would appreciate it if you could give me any information before their disappearance.”

Seungcheol sat up in his bed and leaned against the headboard. “I’d be more than happy to give anything that would help with the investigation. Should I see you at the station?”

“That would be ideal, anytime before noon is best.”

“Alright, I’ll be there shortly.” Seungcheol stood from his bed and hung up the call after exchanging goodbyes.

There was a moment of hesitation as he turned his attention to a water damaged, leather, messenger bag. After his brother found it in the river, Seungcheol took it upon himself to deliver it to the police. But upon seeing its contents he decided against it.

He unlatched the flap of the messenger bag and fished out a small sketchbook. The pages were filled with sketches of nature: trees, flowers, and animals, specifically birds. Among the drawings were entries, poems and short stories. 

Memories. 

Seungcheol flipped to a random page and read one of the poems.

My shoes feel like they are made of cement. Every step is heavy and slow. One misplaced step and I’ll sink Into the undertow

Both of the friends he lost had an interest in the arts, a painter and photographer, but the one art they had in common was poetry. Seungcheol could never bring himself to pick up a pen to draw or write and he only took pictures of food and his family. He was always more of an observer. He read his friends poems, studied the paintings and admired the photos. Now that both of them were gone there was no more creativity. 

The world was growing gray around him and it was suffocating. 

Seungcheol closed the journal and tucked it back into the bag. 

“This is ridiculous.” He muttered to himself as he hid the evidence under his bed.

The police department wasn’t far from his family’s residence, just a short drive into town. Life had returned to the buildings as Christmas had ended, no reason for the shops to be closed anymore. Thankfully the police station wasn’t busy. 

As Seungcheol entered the station, he observed his surroundings. Everyone was working at a steady pace, mingling or organizing stray papers. He wasn’t surprised, a stolen bike or simple vandalism was the most exciting thing these small town cops were offered. Even then, those incidents only happen once every few months. 

He approached the front desk where an older woman with mousy brown hair and wire framed glasses sat, looking over some papers in her hand. She perked up when he noticed him before her.

“Good morning. I’m looking for Detective Harris?” Seungcheol kept his tone friendly.

The woman took note of Seungcheol’s question and after filing away a paper, she stood, pointing to the back of the room.

“Detective Harris is usually at her desk, it’ll be on the left side of the room, dear.” Her voice was pleasant but raspy with age.

Seungcheol gently smiled and nodded as he thanked the woman. He swiftly made his way in the direction of Detective Harris’s desk, not wanting to waste any time. As he scanned the name plates of the desks he stopped at one that read: Det. G. Harris

The woman sitting at the desk had her nose nearly pressed to the monitor, a blue glow reflecting off of her skin. Her black hair was choppy and tied back in a messy bun, a few pieces sticking out and obscuring her face. She looked up from her screen as Seungcheol approached. A smile spread on her lips as she stood.

She held out her hand. “You must be Seungcheol Choi, nice to meet you!” There was a brassy quality to her voice that the phone wasn’t able to pick up, she sounded older than she looked.

Seungcheol reciprocated the handshake. “Please, just Seungcheol. Cheol if it’s too hard to pronounce.”

“Nonsense! My grandmother is Korean, I’m familiar with the language.” She pointed to a chair behind Seungcheol. “Pull up a seat. This will just be a few questions, shouldn’t take too long.”

Seungcheol did as he was told and obediently dragged a chair toward Detective Harris’s desk.

“Alright.” She started to say as she pulled out a notebook and pen. “We’ll start simple. When was the last time you saw your friend?”

“Christmas Eve. I spent most of the afternoon with them. I’d say it was around four in the evening when I last saw them.” Seungcheol was detailed in his response. “We didn’t talk after that, I sent a text at midnight, but they didn’t even open it.”

When Seungcheol’s speaking faded into silence the only thing that was heard was the scribbling of pen on paper. After another moment of writing Detective Harris met Seungcheol’s gaze again.

“Did they say anything odd when you two were hanging out?”

Seungcheol had to think about his answer. It was the usual banter and Christmas Eve isn’t usually a happy time for the two of them so anything would appear bleak.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” It was a half truth. His friend was usually on the gloomier side, but nothing they said alerted him to anything dangerous.

“Okay.” Harris responded as she continued writing. “Was there anyone in Y/N’s life that had a want to harm them?”

The question took Seungcheol off guard. He thought about the people that surrounded his friend’s life. There were coworkers, but not many friends and the only family they had was their father.

“They uh- didn’t have many friends. It was really only me and their father. A few people they worked with at the local cafe, but other than that, there weren’t many people they talked to.”

More scribbling followed by a moment of stillness. Detective Harris took a breath before she spoke.

“I spoke with Y/N’s father yesterday. He said his child struggled with depression, did you know this?”

Seungcheol sighed and pinched his nose bridge as he felt a dull ache in his forehead. “Yeah- Yes, I knew about that. I spoke with them about it often.”

He was hoping to keep his friend’s mental health hidden from the detective, but daddy dearest soiled that plan. 

“Were they contemplating their life?”

Seungcheol snapped his eyes back to Detective Harris, his expression must have been a sight to behold because even the detective appeared as though she regretted the question. 

“No.” He spoke in an even tone, voice low. “They may have had their ups and downs, but they were never suicidal.”

Another lie, but Seungcheol didn’t care. He wanted to make sure that the police would search for his friend, not a corpse.

The new year brought no new evidence and no closure to Seungcheol. Every day passed with more anxiety and less sleep. Detective Harris had no new leads and each conversation between himself and her had the continuous connotation that his friend committed suicide. 

 He took each day with a grain of salt and a heavy heart. Working behind the counter of his family’s hardware shop became mundane, he had no enthusiasm or energy to help his father and brother with any in-home repairs that needed to be done. His friend’s father hasn’t been much help either. Seungcheol had been visiting, bringing food his mother made over to feed the man but the conversations were bland and many things were left unsaid. 

Sitting at the dinner table, nearly two weeks since losing them, his family ate in relative silence aside from utensils hitting the plates. Though his family could be loud during dinner, bringing up old stories or things they heard around town, these days it was hollow. Most times as of recently Seungcheol brought his food to his room, eating as he read over their journal night after night. 

There was no way his friend would have killed themself, he had no doubt that they didn’t. They had only lost their spark, lost in the grief that they didn’t let themself process and instead pushed it aside to busy their mind and body. 

His mother had turned on the TV to fill the void tonight, letting the local news play without much thought. 

“ Tonight, we tell you with heavy hearts that evidence regarding the missing person’s case for Y/N L/N has surfaced.” 

His heart stopped. His family visibly paused hearing the broadcaster’s words. 

As he raised his head, tired eyes locking on the screen, he watched the scene change to Detective Harris standing along the river, much further down than he was with his brother those two weeks ago. 

“Hello everyone, this is Detective Gwynn Harris. I have been the lead investigator regarding the L/N case and tonight I bring not so great news. At 6:30 tonight, the department received an anonymous call stating that they found a bag belonging to the victim with an empty bottle of prescription painkillers and a series of poems that it seems they wrote themselves. Upon further investigation when the team arrived, there were pictures folded within the pages of Seokmin Lee who was a close friend to the victim.” Harris sighed, her face clearly showing despair yet she held it together. A second camera was zooming in on the bag in question. Seungchoel had seen it days prior on the floor of their room.

 “ The department and I will be taking this evidence and releasing it back to the family once everything is collected. With this new evidence, we are ruling this missing person’s case a suicide. I send my condolences to their family, friends and loved ones, thank you.” 

The scene changed once more, the news reporter sitting up straighter and reading off the papers before her. “ Two years ago we reported on the missing person Seokmin Lee. The case was a town tragedy seeing he was said to be a sunshine to everyone he met. No body was recovered however a vigil was held for him and tonight we heard from Detective Harris where the circumstances were similar. That is all we have for-” 

He couldn’t hear it any longer, his blood was boiling. He needed to see their father. 

“Cheol wait-” His mother’s words fell on deaf ears, barely getting his shoes on before grabbing his keys and wallet. 

Speeding was the least of his concern when he reached his friend’s childhood home. The lights in the living room were on, he had half a mind to bust the door down and demand to know what was going on. He had been at their house that week and went through some of their things. He knew that bag was kicked under their desk since the strap had snapped over time and it couldn’t be worn outside anymore. 

Seungcheol marched up to the door and banged his fist against it, jaw tense, muscles rigid. When the door opened, his friend’s father was shocked to see him, words barely seeming to sputter out. 

“Oh- Cheol. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just got the call-” 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Venom laced his words, chest raising and falling in deep breaths to keep the anger within him at bay. “What did you do?” 

Bewildered, the older gentleman took a step back, “I don’t know what you are talking about, Seungcheol.” 

“I asked; what did you do?” He repeated, staring daggers into the other. “You and I both know they haven’t used that bag in years, even before Seokmin- Even before everything happened. It was tossed aside in their room and I even pointed it out to you in some sorry attempt at a joke that they never threw it away.” 

Seungcheol was outraged, so much so that he was calm. Deadly calm. 

He stepped inside and shut the door behind himself, watching as their father stepped back. 

“Do you think I’m an idiot? Do you think I would just believe that crap that Harris spouted about on TV?” His nostrils flared in anger. “What are you trying to play at?! What kind of parent purposefully makes it look like their child killed themselves?!”

The yell caught the other man off guard. He held up his hands in defense. The facade he put up faltered. 

“Cheol, you don’t understand it all, it's complicated.” 

“Complicated? Complicated?! That you are faking their death?! You planted that and called it in yourself! Don’t even try to lie to me!” 

“You don’t understand the forces at play, Cheol! I didn’t have a choice!”

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@reiofsuns2001 @shinwonderful @starstrawb

[dreamerofvalyria]

Son of Zmei | Fae AU | Nikto x F!Reader | Part 2.

Overview: Nikto confronts Mr. Petrov & Reader gets a visitor who drops some new information.

A/N: Second part babyyyyy! I’m on a roll now. Shorter than the last part, but the next one should be a bit longer. Continuation of my little Nikto fic based on the Fae AU by @ghouljams​

Warnings: Murder, Arson.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Prev Part | Next Part

The man kneeling at Nikto’s feet is quivering like a leaf in the breeze, head pressed to the floor in a deeply exaggerated bow. It does little to quell the simmering rage that burns just under his skin, leaving him to huff out a plume of smoke in his agitation. Clearly, this pathetic excuse for a human doesn’t understand what kind of situation he’s in.  

“Mighty Zmei, forgive me for failing you,” the irritating cretin pleads, “allow me to try again, I can do better!”

He can’t help the growl that rumbles out of him, one of his lips curling to show off his pointed canine. “You offered a life, willingly given, in exchange for your own,” he hisses, starting to circle the human, “you think I cannot take a human if I desire one?” Petrov jumps at his sharp tone, mouth opening and closing silently.  

“O-Of course not, I-”

“You think I am a fool? You would try to deceive me? To break your word by offering the life of another who has not agreed?” His words get louder with each passing syllable, sharp teeth now on full display in a horrifying snarl.  

“Never, All Powerful Zmei! I could never hope to trick someone so wise!” the coward grovels, stinking of fear.  

The black shepherd dog snaps it’s jaws at the man’s face and the raven, perched on one of the chairs, caws angrily. The animals are growing restless at the clear disrespectful behaviour of the human, goading Nikto into action. “We have given you a chance to repay us, the deal is off.”  

It seems Petrov has some spine, for the man straightens, “merciful Zmei, to throw away the years of work I have dedicated to you, it would-it would be foolish!”

The heads of all three dark figures, man, bird and dog, all snap to glare at the human. “We are no fool!” their voices join together, speaking as one entity. Their bodies have begun to shift, twisted and drawing together, the lines between the three different creatures growing blurred. “We require your services no longer.”  

Minutes later, Nikto, the dog and the raven stand together in the street. They watch as the house belonging to Petrov burns steadily, flames casting dancing shadows across the nearby houses. The smoke does not bother them, nor the heat.  

Eventually, they turn to leave.  

The raven flies off ahead, while the man and dog walk. “Return to the female. She is oblivious, too fragile to be near so many Fae,” he spits the word in disgust.  

“Would such a weak creature be a suitable mate?” the dog replies, an exact copy of Nikto’s voice.  

He simply snorts, “we are strong enough for the two of us,” he says simply. The two part ways, Nikto to return to their home and the dog to return to his duty protecting their newest prize.  

When the sun rises, you wake with a large, furry body pressed up against you. It startles you, until you recall the events of yesterday. You had been exhausted after returning home, emotionally and physically drained from needing to walk so far back to your home after enduring such a terrifying encounter. The dog had refused to leave when you’d tried to shoo it away and, reluctantly, you decided to allow the canine into your home.  

It would be wrong for you to abandon the poor dog after it had followed you all the way back to your house. The man who owned him was a creep, but you couldn’t find it in you to leave an innocent dog out in the street where anything could happen to it.  

The dog in question wriggles about slightly to get comfortable, kicking you with big paws while whining loudly. Clearly, he was unhappy with you disturbing his rest, because he rolls over, putting his back to you with a rather dramatic sigh. It’s admittedly rather adorable, even if you don’t recall inviting the animal into your bed. The blanket you’d put on the floor for him is untouched, clearly not good enough for the massive ball of black fur.  

“You need to go home, buddy,” you mumble, stroking the animal’s silky fur. You know it’s not safe to have an unknown dog in your home at all, let alone sharing your bed, but you get the feeling you aren’t in any real danger.  

This thought is confirmed when the dog turns its head to try and nose at your fingers, offering them a small lick.  

When you finally gather the strength needed to get out of bed, the dog is more than happy to follow after you, hopping down from the mattress and onto the floor with a loud thump. It treks through the house, patiently watching while you complete your morning routine.  

You don’t have any dog food in the house, so you offer him some leftovers from your dinner a few nights ago after ensuring there isn’t anything poisonous to dogs in it. He doesn’t seem to mind the food, snapping it up at rapid speed.  

Not needing to be at work (and not planning on going back), you’re sitting comfortably on the living room couch, a warm drink in hand, while your canine companion takes up the rest of the couch. You had attempted to tell him not to climb on the cushions, not wanting dog hair shedding all over everything, but your words fell on deaf ears. So now, you sit on the furthermost cushion with the dog resting its huge head on your thigh.  

After a little bit of Googling on your phone, you believe you’ve figured out what breed the dog is. He’s huge and fluffy, clearly built for a cold climate and likely a livestock guardian dog of some kind. It took a while, but you managed to narrow it down to a Caucasian shepherd thanks to the abundance of pictures on Google Images.  

He’s sweet, but you’re not sure you’d be able to afford to feed such a huge dog, especially now you’re abandoning your job. It would be best for you to drop the dog off at the local vet. He’s probably microchipped, and if not, you’re sure they’ll be able to track the owner down. Such a huge dog is probably fairly memorable to someone who will know how to find his owner.  

You’re startled from your peaceful morning by a knocking at your door.  

The dog leaps to his feet, scampering to the front door with a snarl on his face. He starts barking, pacing back and forth. You’re a little anxious to try and get between the dog and the door, but he thankfully seems to back off once you draw close.  

When you pull the door open, you’re met by a police officer. “Good morning, miss,” the man seems anxious, glancing warily at the massive dog growling at him from behind you.  

“Hi,” you greet slowly, unsure, “is there something I can help you with?”

After confirming your identity, the man sighs softly, offering you a sympathetic smile, “I’m very sorry, but I’m here to inform you that your employer, Mister Petrov unfortunately passed away last night.” You blink at that, swallowing nervously, but the man must not notice, for he continues, “there was a fire at his apartment block.”  

“Oh... that’s horrible...” you’re not sure how to respond to that, stunned.  

Were you responsible for what happened? Was the strange, masked man, Nikto, responsible? A nervous sweat breaks out across your forehead.  

“A lawyer will be around shortly to discuss the assets afforded to you.”

“The assets?” you asks.  

“Ah, yes, it appears Mister Petrov left you some of his assets in his will, miss,” the officer smiles, oblivious to your internal battle. He offers you a brief farewell that you numbly return before leaving you once more to your own devices.  

The dog offers you a bark, nudging at your side when you continue to stare after the officer’s retreating form, snapping you out of your stupor. With a deep sigh, you step back into your home and close the door. You gently lean your head against the door, taking a moment to collect yourself.  

When you turn around, the dog is staring at you intensely.  

“What?” you ask him with a snort, as though he could actually respond to you.  

“You are a strange human,” the dog says.  

You faint on the spot.  

[baldurs-gape]

Just want to say I love your work and I’m so excited for the next chapter of shores. You always have me hooked into whatever you are writing :”)

Nonnie, you are a hero in kindness. Please know I love you for being so kind to take the time and effort to come over from AO3 find this blog and leave this ask. Currently I'm writing chapter 13 of Shores and it will likely be 14 chapters long, maybe 15 if I get carried away (we don't mention that it was meant to be a 2k one-shot). But I babble. What I'm trying to say is thank you! You're a gem and have brought me so much joy with this ask. Please have some lighthearted silliness as a token of gratitude. Though if you'd prefer something darker and more gritty, drop me an ask and I'll gladly write that for you too (an ask is basically my excuse to write for someone whether it's a prompt or not).

The Bird, the Bear, and the Bastard

Some days at camp were straight up boring, there was no denying it. There was only so much that could be done in terms of reading, idly tidying around camp and sorting through their packs. Talking was all well and good but even that ran its course when people hit their limits of what they were willing to hare about themselves. Alas, sitting in silence was nice to a point but quickly lost its appeal.

"I'm bored," Astarion sighed for the third time in as many minutes. "You sure we can't take potions of flight and wrestle in the clouds?"

"First, you know that's not how it works. Second, that's such a waste of potions. We might need those later on." Tired of this argument, Gale didn't even bother looking up from his book. "I did offer to teach you a cantrip instead."

"You offend me by suggesting I need a cantrip to get my way. No, I don't want to waste time learning a silly little cantrip for something that already comes naturally to me." After a pause, he sighed wistfully. "I want to fly. And land with the grace of a butterfly rather than a speeding goose."

Book slamming shut, Gale stood up. The furstration in his movements was somewhat dampened by his knees creaking and protesting the sudden change of position.

"Right. Get your bedroll collection. All of it. Pillows, bags, anything soft and pile it overthere." He pointed to the clearest part of camp. When Astarion didn't move, he glared. "Now!"

It was a commanding voice that Astarion had only ever him use when casting and suddenly he perked up, doing as told. Whatever it was that Gale had planned, it was better than doing nothing all day. Within minutes his hoard of comforts was piled up and Gale added his own meagre collection to it. All in all, it looked like a giant bed, big enough for the whole camp to enjoy an orgy on if they wanted. Stepping on it and bouncing a little, Gale nodded to himself.

"Come along, we'll start small." Curiosity won out and Astarion followed only half a dozen steps away. Looking between him and the pile, Gale nodded again. "The landing should be soft, even if you don't land upright. I'll use a very gentle gust of wind to push you. Ready?"

No questions about whether Astarion wanted to do this or if he had any opinions about the matter. As if he would have refused, this sounded like fun.

"Do your worst."

The gust of wind hit Astarion, drove breath from his lungs as it picked him up and threw him back, landing on the soft spread of pillows and bed rolls with a thump. When he could draw a breath again, he laughed and stared up at the sky.

"Again!"

Dutifully, Gale waited until he was back in position and, at his nod, another gust of wind lifted him off the ground before the landing drew a little "oof". Grinning wide, Astarion scrambled to get back into position to go again.

As they repeated the game, things progressed. The distance from the pile got larger, the gusts of wind stronger. Astarion began scoring Gale's accuracy for throwing him into the middle of the pile while his own landings were graded in turn by Gale. They were in the middle of climbing a tree to add an element of height to their game when some of the others returned to camp from their own adventures.

"The little ones used to love being thrown about," Halsin said warmly. "So did I, until I got too big."

Wistful and a little sad, those were the emotions the others could hear in his little lament. It had Gale and Astarion exchanging looks and grinning.

"I'll grab a scroll," Astarion said and hopped out of the tree with feline grace. For once, Gale didn't argue about wasting valuable camp resources so frivolously.

While Astarion jogged to get it, he approached Halsin. "You know, nobody is ever too big or small, it's all in the skill of the one doing the throwing. I'll have you know, I'm very skilled."

"Little mage, you're welcome to try but don't be disheartened when it doesn't work."

All the same, Halsin let Gale position him some way from the pile as Astarion appeared with a scroll in hand. They waited until Gale had tidied up the pile, made sure it was safe for a heavier landing. When he nodded, Astarion lifted the scroll in preparation.

The gust of wind was strong, much stronger than expected and Halsin let out a whoop of a shout as he soared through the air and crashed into the pile of bedrolls. Mage hands supported his head and Gale stood at the side, hand still out from here he'd cast it. Standing up on legs which trembled from excitement, Halsin beamed wide.

"I think I know what scrolls I'll be on the lookout for from now on."

Sidling up to them, Astarion was biting his lip to hold back a smile. "I'll keep you in steady supply, don't worry. Now, want to see what else Gale can do with those mage hands?"

Eyes darkening, Halsin looked between the two and hummed. "It would be my honour."

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Party Games

This is part 6 for The Bet. I hope you like it. I had away to much fun writing this.

Draco Malfoy X Reader 

Fic Summery: Draco bets reader she can’t make him fall for her.

Part Summery: At the party Reader and Draco have a conversation.

Warnings: Maybe a word or something not for sure.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in something.

Part 1 Part 5

“This was your best couples pose?” Draco says from behind me.

We weren't touching except for his legs on either side of mine.

“They said your favorite is not the best and no it’s not my favorite either.” I say looking around the room.

Other couples were sitting and standing. Everyone was talking, music playing overhead so you could only hear whoever was closest to you. Everyone cuddled up or hugged. All in different poses you would share with your crush.

“I feel sorry for whoever hates PDA.” I say more to myself than anyone.

“Do you?” Draco asks from behind me.

“No. I mean I wouldn’t go too far in front of everyone but hugging, kissing sure.” I say shrugging. Then mentally slapping myself for just letting that slip out.

I was getting more and more relaxed the more I was around him. Maybe it was the shot I took. Yeah that was it.

“So what’s your favorite position?”

“Excuse me?” I ask turning to face him.

“I meant a couple poses or whatever.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Sure you did. You just want to know how to get me off.” I say, swearing I make him blush.

Him clearing his throat.

“Just answer the bloody question.”

“Depends. I guess.” I say facing back forward. Arching my back from leaning forward so much trying not to touch him more than I had to.

“You can relax, you know. I won’t bite.”

“All snakes bite.” I say more to myself than him. A warning I told myself when I first met him.

“Only if you ask me to.” He says, making me chuckle.

“What’s with you tonight?” I ask looking over my shoulder.

“Must be the drink. I just say whatever pops into my head.”

“That sounds about right.” I say, agreeing with him. Noticing it a few times already.

“So you want to bite me huh?” I ask, that thought proving my point when it comes out my mouth.

“It’s…kinda…” He says fighting back words.

“One of your things. Of course it is. So you're embarrassed by it or your girlfriend doesn't like it.”

“Pansy doesn't like it.”

“Some girls don’t like pain.” I say, shrugging. Not shocked by that news but I didn’t see her drawing a hard line at biting. Who knows.

“You do?” He asks, a glint of something in his eyes.

“Like pain? No. But biting is different.” I say, shrugging, taking a mentally note to stop doing that.

Sighing I take a deep breath and let myself relax, leaning back I lay on his chest trying not to think about how I slotted into place like a puzzle piece.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah. Why are you always worrying about what’s okay? Or if I'm okay.”

“I don’t worry about whether you're okay. But consent is important to me. You have the right to say no just like anyone else.” I say, trying not to look at him.

“You’re so weird.” He says softly.

I nod agreeing with him.

“So do you think we will really have to be like this for an hour?”

“Most likely the twins like playing with people.”

“What other tasks do you think they have?”

“I’m guessing playful stuff like this. Everyone is having a good time but us.” I say, watching people all at ease. None of them seem to be having heavy conversations.

“You're not having a good time?”

“I kinda wanna take a nap to be honest. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Why?” He asks, sounding like he cared.

“I just have a lot going on. School is kinda kicking my butt this year.” I say chewing my lip to make me stop talking.

“Snape seems pretty rough on you this year.” He says, his breath brushing my neck.

I don’t say anything back. My head starts to hurt as it tries to get my thoughts out.

“How's your arm?” I ask him no longer in a sling.

“You mean the one that bloody bird broke.”

“You deserved you. But yes that one.”

“It’s fine. I can play quidditch this weekend.”

I nod not really listening to him. I could feel eyes on me, them burning a hole in me as I turned and I saw Pansy glaring at me. Her partner's arm wrapped around her shoulders as they stood next to a table of snacks.

“Are you listening to me?” Draco asks, I shake my head.

“No. Pansy is trying to kill me with her gaze.” I say looking over at her.

I feel him chuckle under me, his arms moving to lazily wrap around my middle and settle on my stomach.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you win the bet.” He says, making me remember that cursed agreement.

“Oh right. That.” I say trying not to think about the few weeks ago when I kissed him. When for a second I let myself pretend that me and him could happen.

It took all of the next day to hear him complaining about something to wake me up once again.

“Why do you want me to win?” I ask remembering what he said a few weeks ago but I wrote that off as him trying to get something out of me.

Right now he couldn’t lie it seemed, none of us could.

“I don’t know…” He says, balling his fists up, him fighting his mind not to answer.

“You don’t have to tell me. Just wanted to know the real reason.”

He nods but doesn't say a word.

“Do you want to win?” He asks, flipping it back on me.

“Yes.” I say biting my tongue as it slips out before I can stop it.

“Why?”

Sighing I find myself absentmindedly playing with his slytherin ring without realizing I'm doing it as my mind thinks about my answer.

“I want to get back at Pansy and I think you are better off without her.” I say, surprised when he takes the ring off and drops it into my hand. My fingers twirling it around like I’ve played with it a thousand times. 

“Who I’m I better off with?” He whispers his breath brushing my ear.

“Anyone but her. I think she makes you meaner than you want to be.” I say, putting his ring back on his finger as I watch the twins walk towards us.

“Well you too look cozy.”

“That’s kind of the plan right?” I ask looking up at them.

“Yeah, we thought we would let you pick the next game.”

“Why me? Don’t you two have this whole night planned. What is this anyway? Some weird fetish or are you just crazy?” I say earning a laugh.

“We wanted everyone to stop looking in the obvious places for love.” They say grinning, making me glare at them.

“That’s a load of crap but anyways yeah sure I’ll pick. I pick whatever gets me out of my head the fastest.”

“We were hoping you would say that.” They say at the same time grinning making my stomach drop.

‘What did I do?’ I think as they get up onto the take getting everyone's attention once more.

[genopaint]

So many weeks to catch up on... Here's week 32...

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut (also idk if I've mentioned it before but just as an FYI if you click the names of the dragons in the read-more they'll take you to the dragon's individual posts if it got one of its own.)

Daily Dragon #217 - Marshogon

Large amphibious dragons that serve as mini islands in large swamps and marshes. Many plants and animals live on the grass that grows on their back. They eat algea and micro-organisms living in the water, so they dont attack anything on their back.

Animals on its back actually help protect it from parasites!! Another redraw... Kind of. This is more like a MASSIVE overhaul of this 2016 (i think) swamp dragon design. I couldn't recreate the log helmet in a way I like so I turned it into some kinda triceratops horn.

Daily Dragon #218 - Vulture Wyvern

Exactly what it says on the tin, these birds are MASSIVE to the point they've reached dragon status. Though they could be incredibly deadly if they attacked, they mostly eat dead and decayed animals specifically to avoid combat

Daily Dragon #219 - Sheeva

Watching Clementj64's Mortal Kombat Lore video! I love these videos and while I'm not done with this one yet (I did finish it between the original post and now, it was very good), I DID learn that Goro and Sheeva are part dragon??? Yeah that's good enough to draw them for this challenge I think!

I was gonna do Goro, and I know there's a full on Dragon King... but... Sheeva's redesign is so fucking hot... I just needed any excuse to draw it

Daily Dragon #220 - Light Green

It's been a hot minute since I've done another one of my endless amount of alt sonas. I've been thinking about drawing this weird little dinosaur... sooooooo... here she is!! what are you gonna do about it, huh???

'light green' is also just like, a joke concept little name I came up with now cause Idk what else to call her other than small dinosaur green

Daily Dragon #221 - Crashadon

These dragons have evolved to go a step further than just breathing fire, they breathe explosions! Concentrated energy breaths that release into HUGE explosions when they reach their targets! They are considered to be serious threats to nearby towns

This funny fella is a redraw of THIS funny fella from 2020 :)

Daily Dragon #222 - Salamence

Another dragon type AND another pseudo legendary! Salamence, despite being a pretty regular looking high-fantasy dragon with a great color scheme. Isn't a Pokemon I was really into until recently. It's growing on me a lot!

Daily Dragon #223 - Groundramon

Another dragon I knew I wanted to do from the! I only really became a full on Digimon fan last year after playing Cyber Sleuth, but Groundramon quickly became my favorite teammate and favorite Digimon I've seen so far :)

The only reason this one took me so long is actually the same reason Blue Eyes / Red Eyes did... They're kind of hard to draw! Digimon are incredibly detailed but that's what makes them so cool and edgy