#i wonder if i could. Put the tag of every oc have the name of in here (at the time of writing these tags)

[bloomingbutterflies]

hi bloom here ^_!!^ im drawing people's ocs over this face thing I found on pinterest if you want me to draw yours give me a ref pic of them n which spot you want em in !!!

gacha ocs are allowed too as long as they don't have 20000 accessories because they get crunchy so small on the image

in case anyone doesn't read:

I DO NOT OWN THE BASE IMAGE.

I found it on pinterest !! and thought it would b silly 2 draw people's ocs over, this is mainly talking to mutuals but if other people see this i would love to draw your occc

(edit) ps: you can ask for more than one character + the same character in more than one spot

[fairysluna]

"look what you do to me" with ye olde cregan I BEG

worthy of you.

Cregan thinks his little brother is not worthy of a woman like you, which is why he takes the opportunity to show you that he is the one for you.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader / (Side) Masc!OC x Fem!Reader.

TAGS — smut (f!oral sex, p in v, praise kink, loss of virginity), mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol consumption, cursing, OC is a terrible man, older!cregan, widower!cregan, age gap (early 20s and early 30s). If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — first of all, a big thank you to my gorgeous @bucknastysbabe for being my beta reader and helping me edit this, ily!! i got a bit inspired by this plot and it's longer than i expected💀

Thank you Bel for sending this request because i loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy it!!🤍

WORD COUNT — 4.3k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

How cruel were the gods when they put you in his brother's arms instead of the ones you craved the most.

The first time that Lord Stark laid his eyes upon you, he felt the air leaving his lungs, and his voice being caged inside his throat. His eyes immediately widened at the beautiful sight of you, bewitched by the way you so politely greeted him, and mesmerized by the way you uttered his name. Cregan was in awe, trying to ignore the feeling in his gut and the quickened pace of his heart as he smelled the sweet scent of vanilla coming from your hair. He wondered if you were some kind of nymph, effortlessly enchanting him with a single glance. 

After the loss of his wife, few were the women who managed to catch his eye. A couple of balls were made, and they all resulted in the same thing; a group of ladies following him around, showering him with shallow compliments and words that he did not wish to hear. 

How lucky he felt when he saw you walking in with your father, Lord Reed, into the ballroom, and how miserable he left that night after learning you were betrothed to his young brother; Edrik, a careless young man who —according to Lord Stark— is not worthy of you. At all. He's ruthless, the opposite of a chivalrous man. Cregan knows that while you were waiting for him for dinner, he's fucking some whores in brothels and paying with gold that he would steal from Cregan's chambers. He despised him. He was ashamed of him, and his behaviour towards you. You were a lady, a delicate and sweet girl who could have found someone better. 

Someone like himself, he would think. 

At that moment, while you were nervously chewing your nails sitting at the small table of your chambers as you drank tea, Cregan was out there searching for his younger brother, and trying to force him back to the Winterfell castle. That very same day was supposed to be your wedding, and the groom was nowhere to be seen. You knew better than to cry, you didn't want to suffer for him anymore; so you just sat there, slowly tapping your fingertips against the delicate porcelain of the cup, staring at the crackling fireplace and thinking about something else. 

At that point, you were just begging for him to be alive and well. Nothing more. 

A few minutes passed when you saw Cregan entering your chambers with his grey eyes staring intensely at you as he walked inside. His heavy boots stumped against the wooden floor, prompting you to stand up a bit too quickly. You noticed the pitiful look in his eyes when he noticed you were still wearing that white wedding dress; his heart shattered for you. 

“Did you find him?” you dared to speak first. Somehow, your voice came out colder than both of you expected.

“We did,” he nodded. “He was in a brothel… drunk and enjoying his last hours of freedom, as he said.” The annoyed tone of his voice was quite clear to hear as he spat every single word with rage and even shame. 

Gods forgive him for this insurmountable wrath towards his kin. 

“Where is he now?” The question slipped out of your lips merely out of habit. 

“In his chambers, being bathed by one of the maids,” Cregan explained, unable to bear the vision of your tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. He sought to look at a place over your shoulder, just to ease the ache in his chest.

It wasn't sadness, not at all. It was ire; he knew it. It was supposed to be your special day, and your betrothed decided to ruin it, though you were not surprised.

“Is it the maid that sucks his cock every morning? Or is it the one that let him fuck her in the arse?” you mockingly mentioned, lifting the cup of tea and sipping it slowly. The knot in your throat was becoming unbearable, too tight and barely letting you utter a word. 

Cregan's eyes softened with sorrow. “My lady,” he started, daring to take a step closer to you. The small rounded table was the only thing keeping you two apart. “Allow me to apologize for the misbehaviour of my brother, you deserve the utmost respect from whoever is lucky enough to marry you. Edrik is childish, and his actions often bring shame to our family name.”

“You shall not apologize for your brother's mistakes,” you softly said, sighing tiredly at this situation repeating over and over again. “You're an honourable man, Lord Stark, it's a pity your brother is not even half of the man you are.” 

Cregan felt his heart tapping against his chest, even under those thick layers of fur, he was still able to hear how fast it was beating. His eyes briefly looked away from you out of shyness, feeling so flustered by your mere presence. Oh, gods, this was excruciating; seeing you there with your beautiful eyes staring up at him, looking so fragile and bewitching. The white dress fit you perfectly, you were radiant that night, and he cursed at his brother for looking down on you. 

Edrik was a dumb boy. Luckily, Cregan was a wise man. 

“It pains me to know he doesn't appreciate you,” he muttered as he took unhurried steps closer to you. “You deserve so much more.” 

“It's the best I can get, I suppose,” you shrugged. “At least my betrothed is indulging his uncontrollable lust with whores instead of forcing himself on me. It could be worse.” 

“But it's not supposed to be bad at all,” Cregan discussed. “A husband has to provide for his wife, and treat her with respect.”

His hand approached your left cheek and he placed it there, cupping your face. Your soft skin felt his calloused fingers and suddenly all the air of your lungs vanished. Your lips parted, and that simple gesture blurred Cregan's mind with the urge to devour them. As he looked down at you, you could see in his eyes that there was a rare sparkle in them. It was so mesmerizing. 

“I guess you're asking too much from your brother, my Lord.”

He scoffed.

“If only the gods had been more merciful of us, you would be my wife instead,” he mentioned with a wistful tone. He took another step, and now you were able to smell the pine scent from his clothes. “We probably would be in our private celebration by now.” 

You sighed delightedly as his thumb went to your lower lip, lightly touching it as he glanced at it. Falling in love with him had been so easy; he was so kind, so courteous and gentle. Whenever his brother was cruel and mean to you, he was always there to make you feel good. Many were the times you imagined this wedding being with him instead of Edrik. 

“I would be looking at your beautiful body as you remove this gown. Only for me to see,” he whispered, his touch going downwards until he grabbed the pearls around your neck. “I would take my time to appreciate every single inch of your skin, touching you… kissing you, making sure you know you're the most beautiful maiden in Westeros.” 

His face leaned towards you, and you felt his nose rubbing against your cheek as you closed your eyes. His deep, low voice sent shivers down your spine while your mind was imagining every single word that came out of his plump lips. His touch reached down your sides until you felt his strong grip on your waist. 

Cregan took a deep breath as he smelled your sweet perfume; he couldn't help but sigh. 

“I would pleasure you in so many ways,” he continued, his voice so raspy it made your knees weak. “With my mouth, my hands… until all that comes from your lips is my name.” 

“Cregan…” you breathed out, and he hummed in delight. 

“Yes, just like that.” 

You dared to open your eyes, meeting his and seeing how they were dilated and glazed with lust; yours were probably in the same state. You were able to feel the heat between your legs, almost causing you to squirm to make you feel something. Something to sate the intense desire crawling around your body.

“I would do so many things to you, my darling,” he murmured. “Would you like me to do them?” 

You nodded.

“Yes?” 

“Yes,” you replied, embarrassingly fast. 

His hands went to your back, calloused fingers finding their way to untie your gown. Your chest was against his, and the closeness did nothing but increase your desperation to have him. 

“My brother doesn't deserve you, does he? He is just a stupid boy, and you deserve a man.” You felt the dress loosening around your body and you swallowed hard at the expectation. “Please, let me be that man for you…” 

You were unable to bear it any longer, the temptation being too much. You closed the distance between you two at the same time he started to slip the dress down your body — until it pooled around your feet. His lips fit perfectly against yours, they were slightly chapped due to the cold, yet they felt heavenly. He moaned against your mouth when you boldly deepened the kiss by grabbing Cregan’s nape and pulling him closer to you, all while his hands pressed your lower back. 

It was slow and passionate, taking your breath away as he claimed your mouth with his tongue, swirling against yours and stealing soft whimpers from you. Soon, he grabbed your thighs to lift you and sat you on the table; the cup of tea spilling to stain your white undergown, you couldn't care less. His lips on yours were all you could think of as his hands gripped your body, pressing you against him.

The thin skirt of your undergown lifted as you wrapped your legs around Cregan’s waist, and his hands began to sneak under it to touch the soft skin of your thighs. He left a heat on your body with his fingertips, one that made you desperate to feel him. All while his mouth was reluctant to leave yours, obsessed with the sweet taste of you. He would unconsciously groan, and as he pressed his hips against yours you could easily notice the effect you had on him. 

He pulled away to take a look at you, he found your swollen lips glistening with remains of your and his drool. Your eyes were sparkling as stars and your breathing growing agitated. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Cregan Stark had fallen in love with you once again at that moment. 

“You should belong to me instead,” he huskily said. “I should be the one who takes your body-”

“Do it,” you interrupted without doublethinking it. Your tone was decided and demanding, it shocked him a little. 

“Oh, my little one…” he murmured with a strained voice as if the thought had left him breathless. 

“I don't want your brother… I never did.” Your confession drew a small smile on his lips. “Since day one all I've wanted is you.” 

He took a deep breath before cupping your face with both of his hands, forcing you to look him in the eye. 

“Look what you do to me,” he murmured as you stared at his face, noticing a rare glow in him. “Believe me when I say your feelings are mutual… you've been on my mind ever since you arrived. It was torturous to see you being disregarded by Edrik while I was sitting there wishing I could just hold your hand. My heart, my body, my soul, it all aches for you. I'm desperate to feel you, and I cannot bear it any longer.” 

The despair in his voice, so clear and vivid. 

“Allow me to do it,” he pleaded, “I'm begging you to let me have a taste of you, at least for a night… so I can finally end this torment.” 

“I will accept,” you managed to say in small gasps. “Only if you promise me this won't be the last time.” 

He nodded. “I promise.”

The time was not wasted, you quickly leaned forward to kiss him again with the same intensity and need as before. Both of you moaned against each other while your hands were swiftly untying his snow-covered coat at the same time his were pulling down your undergown until it fell down your arms. Your breasts were freed and you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed; no man had seen you in such a vulnerable state before. However, all insecurities vanished from your overthinking mind once he laid his eyes on your chest and sighed, enamoured by the view. 

He gave you a single glance at you to ask for your permission and, once you nodded, his fingers travelled down your body until they trapped your nipples. He gently squeezed them between his digits, soft enough to not cause you any discomfort but hard enough to make them peak. Your mouth was slightly parted, allowing silent gasps to fall down your lips as he admired your pure flesh. He leaned forward then, and you instinctively leaned back; before you noticed his tongue was lapping at one of your sensitive buds, swirling around it and nibbling on it from time to time. You held your body up with your forearms, closing your eyes once he sucked on it. A moan escaped you as he pulled apart from it and went to the other one, giving it the same attention. 

His hand was grabbing the small of your back as you touched his hair, tangling your fingers in his brown locks and pulling them whenever his tongue made you feel butterflies in your belly. It was so good, and you were blissful thinking that you were doing it with him. Your ever-kind and loving Lord of Winterfell.

Suddenly, his mouth traced a path down your body, licking and kissing your belly until he reached your pelvis. You lifted your hips once his hands started to pull down your last vestiges of coverage, and in mere seconds you were completely exposed to him as your cheeks got warm once again. 

Your legs were spread by his hands on your inner thighs, and Cregan was able to see the mess in your core; you were soaking, and his mouth watered with the urge to taste you. For a few seconds, he was just there admiring you, and then he started to kiss your legs from your ankles, all the way to your hips, shamelessly marking you and leaving red bruises behind; you loved it. 

Cregan gave you a quick look, noticing how you were almost shaking with expectation; your eyes reluctant to leave his frame as his thumb spread your swollen lower lips and exposed that little, throbbing button begging for his attention. He stuck out his tongue, slowly brushing it against your clit. You almost died there. Your hand immediately went back to his hair, pulling it a bit too harshly for his liking. 

“Sh…” he cooed, kissing your inner thighs in the meantime. “Come on, little one, let me make you feel good, I know you want it.” 

Gods, you did. You need it.

“Keep your legs open for me, and let me have my feast,” he murmured before his tongue lapped on your pearl again. 

The way he teased your flesh so sensually made your limbs shake. You were gasping as he licked and kissed every single part of you, lurking around and trying to discover your most sensitive spot. Once he found it, you saw stars. 

Your betrothed was far from your mind when Cregan dared to push one of his long, thick fingers inside your weeping hole. You cried out his name as your legs shook around his head and, as he curled up his fingers to rub your walls, you felt a knot in your belly starting to form and begging to be released. Goosebumps erupted over your stimulated body.

“Gods… Cregan!” you found yourself whining. He hummed delighted with the way his name sounded from your lips. 

His tongue fervently began to flick your clit as he added another finger, pumping them slowly but deeply. The sound of your juices coating his digits was becoming addictive; so sinful, yet heavenly. He was desperate to feel you all. 

As he moaned and whimpered against your soaked flesh, you couldn't help but feel an unknown sensation in your gut; as if you were about to explode. Your heart was beating incredibly fast as you leaned your head back and let your mouth spill thousands of obscene sounds; Cregan's cock twitched in his pants the moment he looked up at you. 

Gods, you were so fucking beautiful. It was not fair that you belonged to someone else. 

Suddenly, with a shout of shock, you felt yourself peak. You gasped loudly and you clenched your eyes shut. Cregan felt your walls squeezing his fingers so deliciously as he drank from you and licked you clean. By the end of it, you were sweating, breathing fast and your hips twitching. You turned into a quivering mess.

Cregan lifted his face, giving one wolfish look before quickly grabbing your cheeks. He desperately kissed you as he groaned in ecstasy. You tasted yourself on his lips as he picked you up and took you towards the bed… the very same bed you were supposed to be sharing with your betrothed that night. 

The guilt hit you, briefly making you feel dirty and sullied. But then, as you saw Cregan slowly removing his attires, you remembered who was your betrothed, and what he was doing earlier that day. If he could fuck a whore, why couldn't you fuck another man? You doubted the lesser brother would even notice. 

Besides, it wasn't just a man, it was Cregan. Your Cregan. 

So, now, as the handsome man in front of you removed his last piece of clothing, you felt your walls clench around nothing as you glanced at his cock. His head furiously red, already leaking and twitching as he started to crawl from the bottom of the bed until he was between your legs. He kissed you again, this time slower… more tenderly. You sighed against his lips.

“You're still a maiden,” he said as a statement rather than a question. You nodded, either way, confirming his words. “Then I'll go slow… though I must warn you, it might hurt for a bit, but I promise you, little one, it'll all be worth it in the end.” 

“I trust you,” you whispered as your hand reached his cheek, gently caressing his stubble. 

“Open your legs for me, my darling,” he commanded, and you did as he said. He looked down at your entrance, “seven hells…” he groaned at the sight, before spitting down to his cock and stroking it a few times. Cregan swiped the ruddy tip of his prick against your folds, teasing them to hear you moan one more time before carefully pressing the blunt head against your entrance. 

You cried out once he started to stretch you out, feeling the slight burn that left you breathless as he made his way inside the tight hole between your trembling legs. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth; Cregan noticed your discomfort, so he brought his thumb to your clit, tracing slow circles on it and trying to make you relax. You let out a shaky breath, chest heaving through the pinch.

Your tightness would try to push him away as tried to go deeper, yet he found a way to keep going until he was fully buried inside of you, whimpering your name. Your soft walls felt so fucking good around him, almost making the man drool against your shoulder. His sweaty forehead was pressed against your cheek and you could hear his ragged breathing in your ear, causing chills down your spine. He gave you a moment to forget about the pain, all while he peppered your neck with soft kisses and gentle bites. 

“I think I have just reached heaven,” he murmured, his voice sounding so deep and seductive. “So tight, so small around my cock…” he continued words that left his mouth before he could even think about them. 

“I- I feel so full…” you muttered, feeling his length pulsing inside of you. 

“Shh… I know, my darling, just take deep breaths for me,” he commanded you, and you obeyed. His thumb pushed slightly harder against your clit and you hummed. “Mhm, does that feel nice? My beautiful girl, you're doing such a good job for me,” he praised you, “taking me so well.” 

“Feels good…” you nodded. 

“It does, doesn't it?” he softly chuckled. “Gods, the way your sweet little pussy takes my cock makes me fucking crazy. Can- can I move? Fuck– Is it okay if I start moving?” 

His gentleness and softness did little to make you forget about the way he spoke to you. His dirty words made you clench around his girth, feeling butterflies in your lower belly. You needed Cregan to move and bring back the effervescent heat. 

“Please, do,” you begged, and he wasted no time in obeying. 

His mouth dropped open as he dragged his cock out of your tightness, noticing how it was covered by your slickness. He pushed in again, filling you and causing you to moan in simultaneous discomfort and pleasure. His left hand went to your hip, grabbing your skin and going deeper inside of you. Slowly at first, he started to fasten his pace until the sound of your bodies colliding against each other was mixed with your moans. 

Your hands wrapped around his shoulders as he hid his face on your neck, his harsh breathing causing chills on your skin as he moved slowly but forcefully; such a perfect pace to make you see stars. Your legs were bent at each side of his body, while he took you and claimed your shaky frame. Soon you realized that he had not lied, it felt magnificent once the pain started to fade away. 

His name would escape your lips as if it was an endless chant, incentivizing him to keep going, to continue his movements until you couldn't bear it anymore. A layer of sweat would cover your body as Cregan's weight was on top of you, it felt as if you were burning yet you didn't want to push him away. You craved to feel his skin on you, loving the way his pelvis would brush against your throbbing clit each time he thrusts into you. 

“Fuck, my darling,” he groaned in your ear, “your pussy was made for me to fuck,” he whimpered, biting your earlobe. You replied with a whine. “So fucking delicious, feeling so tight around my cock.” 

Cregan lifted his face to look at your messy state. The eye contact that followed almost made you reach your peak once again, it was all so intense it made your head spin. Your nails dug into his flesh and he whispered your name; you hummed in response. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured.

He further quickened the pace, his cock now touching that sweet spot of yours. Your walls would clench around him as you felt the much-needed orgasm approaching. A ring of your juices appeared on his cock, and he changed positions so now he was on his knees, grabbing your hips and fucking you faster, rougher. 

He saw your breasts bouncing on your chest as he thrusted into you, the sight so arousing that he felt his cock twitch inside of you. His stones were full, ready to burst at any moment now. However, no matter how much he desired it, he knew he just couldn't release inside you. No risks must be taken if he wanted to do this again. 

With your legs spreaded, his thumb effortlessly reached your exposed clits, flicking it and smearing your wetness around it. Your limbs shook as your mind went numb, and soon your orgasms washed over you. You cried out his name, tightening your grip around his cock. 

That's when he pulled out and poured himself on your soaked flesh, staining your folds with his pearly seed. 

Once he took a quick look at you, he felt a coil of raw pleasure snake around his body. A whine left his lips as he wrapped his hand around his length, stroking it a few times to make sure he would cover you with every single drop. He was overstimulated already; sweaty, breathless and flushed. He looked so beautiful like that.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, caressing your thighs. 

You frown, slightly confused. “What- what for?” 

Instead of answering you right away, he leaned and joined his lips with yours, gently and tenderly kissing you. His hands cupped your face and yours laid on his thick arms. A few minutes later, he pulled away only to leave soft kisses all over your face making you giggle. 

“For giving me the honour of making you mine,” he replied. “Though I must confess that I don't think I will be able to live without having you in my bed every night.” 

You felt a smile appearing on your lips and a familiar warmth on your cheeks. 

“Well,” you sighed, “perhaps, you should do something about it.” That flirtatious tone was a bit odd coming from you, but Cregan loved it. 

“Yes,” he nodded, softly chuckling as he leaned to kiss you once more. “I will definitely do something about it.”

@arcielee

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!

[crownedinmarigolds]

Hello everyone! With help from @auspex, we are putting together the first Tumblr of Darkness Secret Santa event! This event is where artists may come together, submit their World of Darkness OCs, and we can all draw and exchange gifts with one another! Just a little fun to remind one another that we're a great community!

How to Participate: There is indeed a limited amount of time to sign up to make sure everyone has a fair chance! Applications are open 11.04.2024 and will be kept open until Monday 11.11.2024. - You will be submitting your World of Darkness original characters and link their reference materials so that another artist may draw them! Please make sure you have a link that someone may have open access to. This can be a Google Drive folder, your art tag on a social media, etc.  If you make a Google Drive, make sure your Secret Santa does not have to request access and spoil the surprise. In short, just make sure it's easy for your future gifter to look through! Please don't make it a treasure hunt to find out info on your character just to make things easier. When the applications close, we will then put all participants' names into a randomizer to assign everyone their Secret Santa! Auspex and I will make sure to notify you all as soon as possible as well as provide the reference links so that you can have as much time needed to get the artwork finished. You may go as crazy or mild as you like, but just be aware that artists of ALL skill levels are invited to join! Do not be deterred if you feel like you can't draw - that is the devil talking! Every work of art you make is amazing and any gift with heart behind it is wonderful. - For this year, we asks that the gifts remain art-only. Any medium is fine (digital or traditional) but writing, playlists, mood boards, or anything else won't be accepted. Those things are great, and maybe in the future that could be another exchange, but for simplicity's sake - keep it to art, please. If you want to add mood boards or playlists or write ups as little bonuses to your art - that is entirely up to you! - Please remember these works of art are gifts. This exchange is a community event where everyone is free to participate and share in the spirit of giving during this holiday season. Do not feel bad if you feel like you are not drawing as "well" as somebody else, and please do not make others feel bad if you feel like they're not reaching your standards. This is meant to be fun and for everyone who wants to try! We plan to notify everyone within the next day or two after closing applications, and you will have until 12.20.2024 to draw and submit your works back to Auspex and I so that we may send them to their intended recipient! If you know the person you have and would like to share early, we understand, but please if you would keep it off of Tumblr until the event is concluded just so everyone can be surprised! Once the event is over, have at it and post away! - Please respect the time and effort everyone is putting in! If you feel like something has come up and you won't be able to finish or participate after applying - that is fine. Just let us know as early as possible so that we can either inform your gift recipient or take you off the list.

You will find the application here: https://forms.gle/9VTyd4FsyENwjR4B6

For any questions or concerns, please feel free to reach out to me (crownedinmarigolds) either on Tumblr or through my email - ladyofsilks@gmail.com. You may also reach out to auspex on Tumblr as well in case I'm unavailable! Thank you all for being a community I love and and I hope we have lots of fun trying this out!

Please reblog so all of the community may see and get to join in!

[bennyden]

User hamatoanne's fic plagiarism

Hello, I’m the author of The Android, an AO3 Robot OC x Reader fic that was plagiarized by hamatoanne on Tumblr in her Aemond x Reader story, System Error. You can read my AO3 post for more info about the issue. As you can tell by the timestamps on AO3 and the screenshots of her now-deleted story, mine was posted months before hers. I didn’t want to make this public, but it appears Anne has not learned her lesson and is grasping at straws to keep her readers in the dark. She’s been deleting her stories to hide evidence of her plagiarism. I think you deserve to know who your beloved writer gets her words from.

I don’t know this fandom, but I’ve heard you guys can get pretty crazy. Control yourselves. The only one who needs to take responsibility is Anne. Don’t send hate to her mutuals. Don’t send hate to her followers. Don’t stalk or harass or dox anyone. Read through this post and form your opinion.

First bunch of screenshots: A side-by-side comparison of her story (now deleted) and mine (still up and linked above). I took screenshots in advance in case something like this happened so I’d have proof if I needed it. I decided to compare the first chapter of my fic with the first part of hers. I could do the whole thing, but I’m a busy college student and I think just a quick skim of the pictures below is enough for people to see the extent of her plagiarism. 

I have screenshots of her entire post, but I don’t want to make this too long to scroll through and Tumblr posts cap at 30 pictures. I’m assuming some of you have already read her story multiple times, so you’re familiar with the words. If you haven’t, then I should warn you that the fic that she plagiarized is very not SFW. I’ll let you know where the not SFW content starts so you can skip it. 

On the left is my story. On the right is what Anne posted (and took down).

Not SFW content starts here. 

Not SFW content over.

Finally, I DM’ed her. This was just before I posted to The Android on AO3 about the situation. To summarize, I wrote about how I would go about the situation and how hurt I was about a bigger creator stealing from me. I admit, I was too kind and too much of a pushover. I just wanted things to go quietly. She later replied with this and deleted her fic immediately. 

“I was completely stupid for not giving your credit” Why do they always play dumb? You copy that much and can’t even think to put my name there? You credit the artist but not the person who basically wrote your whole story? The story that gave you over 3k notes, so much more clout than any of your other stories has earned you? Total BS.

“I had every intention of giving credit where it was due…But I forgot” Right. Sure. Of course. If she felt guilty about plagiarizing, she would not be so shameless to accept praise like she did. I have examples of where she happily thanked people for complimenting "her work”, but didn’t want to bring other blogs into this, especially since they were none the wiser to her plagiarism. Ironically enough, someone even gifted her a badge for being a good writer the day she replied to my DM. She tagged that post “#a breath of fresh air on a horrible day”. I wonder why her day was horrible. Whoever gifted her that badge deserves their money back.

My thoughts when approaching her DMs were:

If she wants to keep up the story? Fine, just edit the post to say that it was heavily influenced by my story and leave a link to the original. I don’t mind. The readers will see that, click my story, compare the two, and think, “Hey, that’s not just inspiration! She plagiarized!” and her downfall would start from there without me having to do anything.

If she ignored me and didn’t fulfill that request, i would take matters into my own hands and expose her on her own post. Even more damaging.

In the end, she chose to delete the post entirely, getting rid of the evidence and her clout. I actually didn’t expect this outcome since I thought she’d like the clout too much, but I guess she decided this route would be the least damaging to her reputation. Everything was swept under the rug for now. 

And like a fool, I said thanks and went on with my life. But I decided to keep track of her. Because while I was too cowardly to do anything, I knew there would always be someone in the crowd who would take action. And it seems like people did. 

After reading the supportive comments from readers of my fic, I started to regret how lightly I handled it. I wanted to be mature even though I wanted her entire blog to fall and her reputation taken away. But I didn’t want to be a “bad person”. I wondered if I should keep pursuing the issue. I realized that my overly-people-pleasing behavior might lead her to continue her ways. I decided to speak out because others might’ve had their works taken by her and that my silence wasn’t helping. 

Next is her post, now deleted (I wonder why), about how she’s been so sad and how she’s going to be deleting her old stories and starting over. I’m likely not the only one she’s plagiarized from if she’s deleting other stories. At the time, I only saw supportive replies and reblogs on it, but maybe she deleted it after people started calling her out? Idk.

She’s playing the victim game pretty hard. Acting as a kind underdog even though she’s the big creator who stole from a nobody like me. I know I said on my AO3 update that people shouldn’t send hate to her (and even censored her name after she deleted her story) but I guess I’m a little happy that people sought to call her out on her shit. I wish I was as brave. 

Later, a nice person (we’ll call her Bob because she asked to remain anonymous) DM’ed me directly with a kind message. After seeing this, I decided I should take action and expose all of this since Anne obviously hasn’t learned and wants to keep it all hidden. Bob confirmed that I’m not the only victim of Anne’s plagiarism either.

Bob asked that I not use screenshots of our DM’s so here is a transcription of the important parts:

“Hey! I just found out that one of your fics had been plagiarized by someone in the HOTD community. First of all, I am tremendously sorry that happened…”

(For Bob’s privacy, I won’t explain her relation to Anne. Just know that Anne has refused to message her back).

“I definitely think you should make a blog post. with side by side comparison. I am still completely gobsmacked that she pilfered your entire story word for word and changed a few things. We found evidence that she had plagiarized multiple stories. Not just yours. We found out her mermaid!aemond fic was entirely stolen as well as a few others. She has quietly deleted them and hasn't spoken on them since.”

“We surmised that she takes ‘underrated’ fics from different fandoms and changes the name and that's it. It's almost like she believed that stealing from other fandoms was going to draw less attention than stealing directly from the HOTD fandom.”

So if you noticed that one of your favorite Aemond fics is gone, now you know why.

‘But benny, she still wrote her own sentences and just changed it around to fit aemond!’

Fanfiction is transformative. You know what the source material is and who created it. You know you’re not reading a copied and pasted text with maybe some words and sentences switched around. This wasn’t fanfic. According to Google, plagiarism is defined as, “the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own.” (See what I did there? I credited Google. Is it so hard to give credit where credit is due?) She copied people's work, didn't give credit to the source material, and claimed it as her own. That's plagiarism.

I wouldn’t have had a problem if she properly credited me and linked the original story. I wouldn’t have had a problem if she didn’t blatantly copy and paste the entire text and premise. I wouldn’t even require getting permission to write a story based on my fic if she had satisfied those conditions.

She’s a 27-year-old grown-ass woman with enough free time to simp over some blond guy with an eyepatch. I’m a 21-year-old college student who only posts fics during the summer and winter because that’s when school’s on break. I’m too busy writing lab reports and essays to be an active writer online. The fact that she can disrespect smaller writers so tremendously should not be acceptable. The fact that she also deceived her devoted readers and friends about her "works" is also unacceptable.

What can you do about this? To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with this before. I want to be a good person and say, “Don’t send any hate to Anne, don’t harass her. Just unfollow her and stop supporting her.” But that obviously hasn’t taught her anything. She’ll just make a half-assed apology, maybe go on hiatus, maybe disappear, and then pop up again under another name to steal from another creator. If you have any ideas on how to deal with this, please tell us. 

She can try to block me or delete her posts, but the evidence is out and the damage is done. Anything she does to hide this mess will only make it worse for her. I’d appreciate people bringing more awareness to this issue, especially if it can reach the eyes of others she’s taken from. 

Thanks for reading.

[bueckerrss]

tag, you’re it - m. sturniolo

pairing: stalker ! Matt x OC

warnings: stalking, cursing, pictures being taken without consent.

summary: daisy just moved to a new home in a new town what happens when matt takes interest in her?

the triplets live in boston and aren’t famous during this.

ALL OF THIS IS FAKE! THIS IS PURE FICTION! matt will never do anything that is written in this.

-----------------------------------------------------

LOG IN:

USERNAME:matt******

PASSWORD: ********

open up file 5521?

yes no

FILE OPENED

NAME: Daisy Rose Larson

BIRTHDAY: July 10th, 2004

SIBLINGS: one sister. Alison Larson(12 years old)

PARENTS: Violet and James Larson

Daisy just moved a few houses down from me, she currently lives alone and moved here for college. She is nineteen years old, she loves to read and write she graduated from high school as a valedictorian. from what I could gather she has never had a boyfriend, she takes her studies very seriously.

matt looked away from his screen just in time to see her running around the block like she usually did every day in the afternoons, he ducked down a little to keep a closer look at her without letting her see him.

“MATT!” screamed Nick from the kitchen making matt quickly get up close his laptop and get out of his room “what?” he said looking at nick “i realized that we never properly introduced ourselves to the new girl that moved in a few houses down so we were wondering if you wanted to join us on saying hi” spoke chris while putting on his shoes “yea, i’ll go” replied matt putting his shoes on.

knock knock

the knocking grabs the girls attention as she pauses the show she’s currently watching and heads to the door to check who’s there, three figures are standing outside.

“hello?” she said softly as she opened the door to the three boys in front of her “hi, sorry to show up like this but we’re your neighbors we live a few houses down” nick spoke as he stretched out his hand for her to shake “hi, im daisy nice to meet you…” “nick!” he finished with a smile “these are my brothers matt and chris” he continued pointing at each one “nice to meet you guys come in!” she said opening her door more for the boys to walk in “your house is nice” spoke matt as he took in the layout of the house.

“thank you, i’m still decorating and what not but i’m glad you like it. would you guys like water? lemonade?” the girl asked making her way to the kitchen. “water is fine” matt and nick spoke at the same time “do you have pepsi by any chance?” asked chris getting a glance from matt and nick “what i really want a pepsi right now!” whisper chris to his brothers.

the girl made her way back to them with two waters and two pepsis giving them a smile “here you go water and pepsi”

-

friday march 16.

her house is beautiful she said she needed to decorate more but i genuinely think it looks fine the way she has it right now.

matt added more and more information about the girl as he progressively learned more about her. always keeping his eyes on her every time she left her house he would follow her “to make sure she was safe.”

he would also constantly take pictures of her, she went out for a walk? he was a few steps behind with his camera in hand snapping a photo, she was checking her mail? he was by his window sneaking pictures of her and looking around to make sure nick and chris didn’t catch him.

-

matt quickly made his way into his room locking the door behind him as he made his way into the foot of his bed pushing the floorboard down making it pop up, he pulled out a box with all the pictures he’s taken of her and the pictures of things she’s showed interest in. he added a few more photos he had taken earlier that week before placing it back to its original place.

as the girl opened her door about to leave for work she saw a box no mailing address and no sign from who it was from just her name on the top. she brought it inside deciding she’ll open it after her shift.

i have a spare minute she thought as she grabbed some scissors to open up the box. she gasped once she saw what was inside, a perfume she saw at the mall the week before. but who would buy this for me? i didn’t even mention it to anyone.. she thought. she let it go thinking maybe she let it slip awhile ago. she put it on and headed to work.

and that’s how it was for weeks any time she saw something she liked a week later it will show up on her doorstep. it weirded her out at first but she thought it was probably her parents sending her those things.

april 15.

she seems to really enjoy the gifts i’ve been giving her, she obviously doesn’t know it’s me who is giving them to her. she can’t know. no matter how much i want to tell her it can’t happen. i don’t need another incident like eliana. she seems different tho i don’t think i’ll have a problem with her.

daisy was taking one of her usual afternoon walks when suddenly matt’s car appeared next to her slowing down “hey, i was going out for ice cream wanna join?” he ask her as he kept looking to the road and back to her “um sure todays my cheat day anyway!” she laughed as he stopped for her to get in.

“so where are we going?” she asked as she paused her music “we’re going to tipping cow” “holy shit i’ve heard about that place but never had the opportunity to go!” she said with a smile.

the time they spent together the girl had a smile the whole time making the boy fall even more obsessed in love with her.

during that night once she got dropped off by matt she realized she needed to go grocery shopping. the clock read 10:30pm there’s nothing like going grocery shopping at night. she made her way to the grocery store since it was just a few blocks away from her neighborhood.

she was walking out of the grocery shop with a few bags worth of groceries when she heard footsteps behind her, ignoring them thinking it was her own she continued walking. but her gut feeling made her look behind her to see a man in all black following her. she ran as fast as she could throughout the whole parking lot until she got home.

-

weeks passed and she always had the feeling of being followed even if she wasn’t being followed. things stopped after weeks she finally felt free and not paranoid about constantly being watched.

or so she thought one certain day she was taking one of her usual walks around the neighborhood when she saw him again, the man in all black in front of her she quickly turned around and started running towards her house that was a couple blocks away. as she got in she locked her door and closed her curtains hoping that it would make her invisible.

ring ring

“h-hello?” she hesitantly answered

“you think you could run away from me? think again daisy you can never run away from me.” he spoke his voice deep and hoarse.

before going to sleep she made sure all her doors and windows were locked, she had her curtains closed. she took out the bat her dad had given her as a ‘safety weapon’ in case of emergencies like these.

that night everything was normal. the next morning she went out to check her mailbox when looking at them a certain envelope caught her attention “Daisy Larson” was in bolded letters when she opened it she found weeks worth of pictures of her. from her going on her daily walks to her being in class. she flipped the polaroid and in the bottom was written in red ink “say cheese”.

“say cheese?” she repeated in a whisper when suddenly she felt someone grab her from behind and put a cloth into her mouth. she struggled for a moment before knocking out.

DELETE FILE 5521?

DELETE SAVE

LOG OUT

YES NO

when daisy woke up she couldn’t move her arms and legs were tied up she tried screaming for help but the bandanna tied around her mouth prevented her from making any noise. she looked around the area analyzing it, it looked like an old basement or something similar to that she looked around for anything that could help her get out when her eyes landed on the wall in front of her in thick red bold letters was written:

TAG, YOU’RE IT. ;)

—————————————————————

hope y’all enjoy this um it was based off tag you’re it by melanie martinez (love her to death)

and hopefully this was good idek i feel like it’s rushed iddkkkk 😣😣😣

tags 🏷️: @breeloveschris @sturniolobendystrawsposts @hearts4chris @patscorner @lexisecretaccx @tubl-mc @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloblogs

[saturnville]

yes, mr. snow.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x black fem oc (illia furdoix). warning: book accurate snow, arranged marriage, toxic!coriolanus. trigger warning: choking. content: coriolanus and illia are in an arranged marriage. coriolanus seems like a decent man to the public, but behind closed doors, she sees a different side to him. an: I saw someone say that wanted to see a more accurate description of coriolanus based on the books. and in the books, the man is an unhinged, classless, selfish human being. here we go.

tags: @snowlandsontopp @babyzzlove @hlstead @rosewine-5 @unicornqueen05 @thegabbyh @neeville @fastlikealambo @urfavesimto keep your spot on the tag list, you are expected to interact!

She cursed the day she was born. She'd spit on the birth certificate and burn it in the coal-infused fireplace if it meant her existence was a mere wrinkle in time. If the conception of her very being had been unsuccessful, she would have been saved. Saved from the monster that bore the name Coriolanus Snow.

He was just that indeed. A man with the nature of Zeus--arrogant and proud. Expectant of his subjects to adhere to his every command. To fall at his feet like peasants and utter his praises with each breath he took. Like Medusa, his eyes were cold and struck fear in the souls of those who were brave enough to look into them. She never looked in his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of blue, yes, but they were deadly. Stone-cold and deadly.

From their childhood, they were destined to marry. A North magnent and a South magnent forced to attract though they were born to repel.

Her husband was a mean man. How had she been stuck with him, she wondered. Why did the stars have to align the way they did. She carried the name of a monster and laid next to a man she feared. Surely, that was never how marriage was intended to be. It was to be loving, honorable. She was supposed to be adored by her husband as she supported him in his endeavors. What did she get though?

A man who trudged home during the early hours of the morning, clothed in anger and misery, an aroma of scotch and lingering cologne following him with every step he took.

Even still, as time went on, she found ways to love him. He had his moments where she had hope. When he made her soup when she fell ill, how he had a tulip garden put on the roof because he knew they were her favorite flowers. They were rare moments, but she found ways to cherish them.

Illia was afraid to speak as his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the bedroom. His features were frozen in place; furrowed eyesbrows, a deep frown, and a clenched jaw. A walking manifestation of bitterness.

Her eyes were stuck on his swift movements as he floateda around the like a moth. His chest was exposed, as he unfastened the buttons on his short journey up the stairs and to their bedroom. Lean and strong. He tossed his crimson coat on the ottoman on the farthest side of the room. She winced. That was a gift she had made for him.

The sigh he released was heavy. He uttered words beneath his breath as he continued to pace around the room, searching. For what? She did not know.

"You're staring." His voice was low. Icy. Illia jumped and dropped her eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

How you don't come home. Why don't you touch me like you care for me? Will you ever learn to love me? "Where were you, Coriolanus?" Hardly a second passed before flames rose in his eyes. Who knew a simple question could turn a cub into a preying lion an instant.

However, her husband had a keen sense of self control. So rather than yelling like she assumed he would, he instructed her to stand in front of him. "Come here." Her legs carried her to him. They were close in height so her eyes were almost adjacent to his. Their lips, so close, that she could feel the ghost of them.

Slowly, Coriolanus dragged a hand from her bare thigh, up her stomach that was covered by a lace slip, to her breasts which he gave a tight squeeze. It finally landed around her neck. Coriolanus hummed and cocked his head to the side. Illia's breathing was heavy, her lips were parted, and her eyes fluttered closed.

Until he tightened his grip. She gasped in horror. Coriolanus ignored her fingers scratching as his hand as he brought his lips to her hear. "You don't question me, do you understand? I come home when I come home. All that matters is that you are here when I arrive. Do I make myself clear?"

The fear in her eyes would make any man retract and beg for her forgiveness. He was not any man. Illia let out a strained yes, tears welling in her eyes.

It was not enough. "Yes, what?"

She coughed. "Yes, Mr. Snow." He released her from his grip and watched as she fell toward the floor in agony. She crawled away from him in fear. He stared at her with those icy eyes, emotionless and bare. Her husband, he was indeed. The monstor who bore the name Coriolanus Snow.

[dawneternal]

The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | Five

☁︎ notes: I am sick and my brain is so foggy I'm sorry if I missed anything while editing

☁︎ warnings: injuries, blood, talk of physical abuse and abusive parents

☁︎ word count: 2.7k

☁︎ AO3 Link / Masterlist

☁︎ tags: @cauldronblssd @teddyhoneybear @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @imma-too-many-fandoms @allyjoe755 @milswrites @shadowdaddies @zenkindoflove @landofpetrichor

Throughout the next handful of calls, Eris found himself trying to collect more information about Aya. It was odd, this inexplicable and slightly overwhelming desire to learn more about her. None of the knowledge he gained did anything to supress his hunger for more. She had him captivated, even if he wasn't ready to put a name to what he was feeling. 

Getting her to open up proved to be a difficult task when his mother was present. The nature of Aya's recruitment had left its mark, like a splinter under her skin instead of the gold ring on her finger. Edana may have dug her own grave, but Eris hadn't, yet. He tried to make himself seem trustworthy. He would be an open book if it meant Aya gave a little of herself in return. 

There were plenty of reasons for this growing attachment to scare him. If he would even admit to it being an attachment. She had done something to him he couldn't explain. Her smile made him want to smile. Her softness made him want to be soft. It bothered him that she never spoke very highly of herself, a strange contrast to her confidence while working. Her hands never faltered, always precise yet gentle. She never struggled, no matter what manner of healing challenged her. Something in her mind clouded her ability to see her as he did - as something remarkable. Something unique and lovely, meant to be cherished.

And with that, there was a growing fear that Aya's heart was already taken. He thought of it every time his gaze caught on her talisman, every time he remembered Thesan's order of protection. It would seem from his perspective that the High Lord of Dawn was smitten with the healer. Thesan was likely waiting until Aya finished her training to propose. It stoked flames of jealousy within him, stirring up an ugly possessiveness that he did not like.

It was always at this point in his pondering that Eris stopped himself. None of it mattered. It did not matter how Aya felt about him, if her heart was promised to someone else. He had promised himself long ago that he would not pursue anyone while his father lived. He had too many other things to think about and his focus was already faltering because of this foolish crush. He had slipped up too often recently and had the scars to prove it. 

He ran through this list often in an attempt to reason with himself. To put an end to the current of emotions he felt when she walked into the room. But nothing seemed to stop it. The jealousy and the wondering and the golden glow he felt in her presence. He knew in his heart that he could not be the one to cherish her, but it did not keep him from envying the one who would.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ 

The gilded crowd seemed to move as one, a swirl of delight and gaiety. Aya stood in its center, dizzy and far too sober despite the glass of champagne in her hand. Supposedly, her appearance was mandatory. But as usual,  no one from her class of healers had spoken to her. No one from any circle had spoken to her. 

The glow of her ring caught her attention and she did a double take. Maybe it was the fae lights or wishful thinking. No, the ring really glowed, a band of warmth around her finger. She handed her glass to the nearest server, conjured her bag of supplies, and tried not to be too grateful for an excuse to leave the party. 

Eris stood in the garden near the winnow spot, his hand clutched to his chest. He didn’t seem to care that blood stained his beautifully embroidered jacket. Aya greeted him with a smile, but he took in her outfit and frowned. 

“Did I pull you away from a party?” He asked. 

Aya blushed, remembering what she wore. An iridescent gown that was almost sheer, cut low in the back to accommodate her wings. The neckline draped and fluttered, revealing a fair amount of her chest. It was likely a little scandalous compared to the modest fashion of the Autumn Court. She really should have grabbed a coat. 

“Oh, no,” She stammered, “I mean yes, I was at a party, but it's okay.” 

“We can work here in the garden and then you can winnow back,” He said, so calm even with the blood dripping down his arm, “You’re all dressed up, I’d hate to ruin that for you. I would think a dress like that is meant to be seen.”

The corners of his lips twitched up into a smile as he said it, eyes burning into her.

“No, really, it’s okay,” Her cheeks burned and she turned her gaze toward the stone garden path, “I was kind of looking for a reason to leave.” 

Eris’s eyebrows lifted and he looked like he wanted to ask her why, but he said nothing. Only gave her a nod and led the way to his room. Aya’s golden heels clicked softly in the hallway, jewelry jingling with every step. 

In Eris’s room, she kicked off her shoes and tossed her bag aside with an ease that made him smile. She’d grown comfortable here. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited as she got water from the washroom, hand still held tight to his chest. 

“What happened this time?” She asked, returning with a pitcher and a stack of rags. 

He held out his hand for her to see, but she brushed past him and crawled onto the bed, tucking her legs underneath her. The feathers of her wings brushed his shoulder as she moved, her scent of pomegranate and honey wrapping around him. He blinked at her for a moment, frozen by the image of her in his bed, her gorgeous dress and smeared makeup. It was not a daydream he’d ever had before, but one that would haunt him often, now. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” She started to slide off the bed, “That’s not appropriate, is it?” 

She forgot sometimes how much more casual the Dawn Court could be. 

“No, no,” Eris said quickly, “It’s okay.” 

She studied his expression for any hint of disapproval and found none. So she stayed put and began taking off her jewelry, tucking the chains and bracelets into a pocket in her satchel. She left her golden nose ring, adorned with a tiny sunstone. 

“Thank you,” She murmured, “My feet are killing me.” 

“Too much dancing?” He smiled and tried not to look too jealous. 

“Not exactly,” Aya sighed and motioned for his hand, “More like too much standing around, waiting to be asked to dance.” 

Eris tilted his head to the side, eyes sparkling with curiosity. She busied herself with unfurling his stiff fingers as gently as she could. 

“I’m not exactly popular with my peers,” She said, examining the deep gashes in his palm and fingers. She grimaced at the sight, but Eris showed no signs of pain. 

“Why ever not?” He asked. For a moment, she thought he was being sarcastic. But she looked up at him and saw that he was earnest. 

“My power,” She hesitated, “Doesn’t manifest the way healing powers typically do. It makes others suspicious of me. Not to mention they suspect nepotism because Thesan is my cousin.” 

He probably should have felt ashamed of the wild rush of relief, at that. His lovely mother had failed to mention that Aya was related to Thesan. There would be no betrothal after all, then. Unless the Dawn Court shared habits with the Ilyrians. He was about to do a little more prying, but she beat him to it. 

“You never answered my question,” She said softly, beginning to dab away blood with a rag, “What happened to your hand?” 

“Beron,” He grumbled, wincing for the first time, “He told me that if I was to act like a child, then he would punish me like a schoolboy. So he struck my hand with a ruler.” 

Aya paused and looked up at him, lip curled in disgust. Eris nodded in confirmation.

“He broke two rulers before he was finished,” He sighed, like this had been some mild inconvenience. Just another one of Beron’s antics. 

“I’d like to break two of his fingers,” Aya spat, earning a grin from the prince, “How long did you wait to call me?” 

“A few hours. I was waiting for him to leave the Forest House.” 

She leaned over to grab a fresh rag from the side table, and Eris’s gaze caught on her bare back. Aya almost froze, realizing what she had exposed to him, but she forced herself to move normally. He said nothing, but she could feel the weight of his gaze, could see his pursed lips in her peripheral vision. 

She may as well even things out between them. She knew the story of a good handful of his scars. Some were her own creation. He could know the story of hers. It wasn’t exactly a secret, anyways. Dawn Court clothes often had low cut backs to accommodate wings, and so her scars were often on display.

“The Illyrians aren’t the only ones who practice wing clipping,” She said into the silence, aware of how tight her voice sounded, “It mostly died out a long time ago, but there will always be extremists. My mother was one of them.” 

She paused, swallowing hard under the intensity of his stare. 

“Really, I think she was unhappy that I had inherited something so obvious from my father. She tried to clip me using magic, but I stopped her with my own powers. I saved my wings but I couldn’t prevent the scars. And something in her magic collided with mine and went wrong. I felt it in my bones. Ever since then I have had pains in my back. I’ve tried everything I could, saw dozens of other healers, but nothing gets rid of it.”

Eris was sure she already saw the irony of it. Her being a healer and not being able to heal her own chronic pain. He supposed they were very similar in that way, desperate to fix everything or everyone around them. All the while unable to fix themselves.

“I’m sorry,” He said. 

There was plenty he wanted to say, but nothing that would actually make a difference. That image would stay with him, the scars interrupting the smooth brown skin of her back, jagged like rivers on a map. He stared at her wings with a new appreciation, filled with desire to see them spread in flight as the sun filtered through her golden feathers.

He had a sudden urge to feel them. To reach out and stroke the feathers and find out if they were as soft as they looked. But he remembered all of the strange customs around Illyrian wings and kept his hands to himself. His blood heated as he recalled other rumors about those Night Court wings.

“What’s done is done,” Was her response. Her voice was a little far away now, either in memory or in focus. He could feel the tingling of his hand beginning to heal, and the warmth of shame over his thoughts of wing sensitivity. 

A silence settled as she worked and he swore he could almost hear a humming. Like her healing was an unheard song and his bones sang in answer. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but he also couldn’t tear his gaze away from her distant eyes and the golden sparks that glowed from her hand. 

He wondered if she knew what her eyes looked like while she was healing, pupils and irises filled with golden light. Like suns, casting a glow on everything in their path. It had alarmed him at first and then drew him in like a moth to a flame. She must know. It must be one of the reasons the other healers were wary of her, afraid of that golden fire. He realized that she never kept her eyes open if anyone else was around. 

She was like a beacon of light in the darkness of his room, golden and warm and shining. The list of things he admired about her was seemingly never ending. As was the list of things she made him feel every time they interacted. There was a lump in his throat, as he stared at her. So small and quiet, and yet something strong and lovely. 

His hand was almost healed. 

“You are so kind,” He said, just above a whisper. He was emboldened by her confessions, by the things that it meant for her to keep her eyes open around him. 

Her eyes returned to their normal misty color and she tilted her head at him. 

“In spite of all that’s been done to you,” He explained, all too conscious of the vulnerability he was showing. Was there any use in shielding his heart at all?

“I keep no ledger,” She said, looking down at his hand. It was healed, no trace of his wounds left. But she held on. “Against the world, against anyone. I’ve made kindness my fight instead of revenge. I have no reason to be cruel just because others were cruel to me. And if I am kind, it is one less thing that they have taken from me.” 

Tonight held the most words she had ever spoken to him. He savored them like he did every other fact she’d given him and committed them to memory. Everything she had to say was lovely. Everything said in her voice was lovely. He wanted to tell her that he admired her and that he wished he’d heard those words a long time ago. Maybe then, he could have dedicated himself to the cause of kindness instead of choosing cruelty as his shield. Or at least something besides malice. It was probably too late, now. Cruelty had settled into the very grooves of his being.  It was a habit so deeply ingrained that he was not sure he had the strength to claw his way out of it. 

When he lifted his eyes, he found that she was watching him like he had done moments ago. His gaze startled her out whatever she had been pondering, and she released his hand. Reluctantly, he pulled it back into his own lap, already missing her warmth. The smooth feel of her skin. 

“What will you do?” She asked, worry etching in her features, “About Beron? Surely, you won’t let things continue this way.” 

“There are things in motion,” He said slowly, calculating what he could and shouldn’t say to ensure her safety, “But of course, just those words alone could spark his suspicion. Right now, we are all playing a waiting game.” 

He did not know exactly what they were waiting for. All that he knew is that he’d know it when he saw it. He would not admit that to anyone, however. He would continue to play the part of a clever, cunning leader. He had been able to take advantage of the Night Court’s compromising position in the Spring Court, and now he had Rhysand’s support. More opportunities would present themselves, he knew. 

“Of course I’ll say nothing,” Her brows knit together even tighter, “And of course, I’ll be here. Until the last wound he ever inflicts.”

And after that, if you’d like. 

She slid off the bed and looked up at him. Something passed between them, metallic and shimmering like the golden light of her healing. Eris’s lips parted but no words came out. The way he looked at her made Aya wonder if he somehow knew what she had almost said, his eyes filled with a fire that danced like a candle flame. They said nothing more, but the change in the world was palpable. Each breath felt different than before.

After he’d walked her to the garden and returned to his bed, he found a single golden feather on his comforter. He picked it up gingerly, running a fingertip across its silky texture. Then he tucked it into his nightstand, wards snapping as the drawer shut. 

He had seen it in her face, the dangling invitation. Or maybe it was a request. Let me stay, her eyes had pleaded. It was a pain he had never known before, watching her winnow away. Knowing that he could not afford to dream of keeping her. To give her what she asked would be handing over her ruination. He would not let himself destroy such a perfect thing.

[slushiesandshowtunesat3am]

Even as a pale, white, petite, always pink, and female myself which seems like all they seem to insert into these fics…. I freaking HATE reading that in a x reader fic. Because all I see then is those basic asș AI generated girls who all look the same, it becomes a joke. And the stupid description of pale snow skin and everything being pink, and I do mean EVERYTHING is freaking vomit inducing. We’re all asking for the bare freaking minimum.

1. Tag properly (Keep to who the main people are, side people not needed. That can be added to the author notes.) The goal is not to flood tags and having people endlessly scroll.

2. x Reader - No actual descriptions of what this person/character may look like (I would also say if the description of the clothes aren’t important to the scene, that can be left out. This might just be a me thing. Why the F are these people always just wearing a T-shirt, leggings, and a freaking messy bun… 🫤 cozy but EVERY SINGLE TIME! )

3. x OC / x Named OC - Go ham! Do all the descriptions, outfits, etc. No one should bother you then since you let them know in advance. It’s even super cool if you give an advance notice of what said character will look like.

4. Please edit your stuff. Even if you’re a beginner (nothing wrong with that, everyone starts somewhere) edit as best as you can. Storyboarding is so great too, to help remember things and look back.

5. PLEASE PUT YOUR AGE ON YOUR TUMBLR!!!! Especially if you write mature content!!!!!

We’re all well aware (like that racist POS, who I hope you blocked said..) that anyone can do what they want and how they want, but if you want people to read your stuff and start engaging then going about it in a smart way will do you wonders!! I think decline started once the cesspool of Twitter started coming here. People have become straight up asșholes on here. You can feel the shift. I miss old tumblr and even AO3 isn’t the same (and I refuse to ever go on wattpad… the horror ☠️).

Oh, I love you. Tens across the board with everything you said, and thank you so much for expressing solidarity with your opinion. You're amazing.

It didn't even occur to me that sometimes even white individuals can't relate to this content because not all of them identify as women, or look like the women who are often displayed or described in this content, which is very much catered to a pretty, perfect, docile, very much so male gaze esque ideology.

I really really agree with the shift. I could write a whole paper on this, but since Twitter has merged with us, I've seen a rise in dub-con/infantilization/overall inconsiderate culture. And I know it's out of left field, but I truly think this is all connected.

Almost all of the content now is not only incredibly drenched with smut, but also flooded with unhealthy dynamics where women are not only heavily degraded and taken advantage of, but made to fit this very, I had to say it, child-like dynamic. I mean, I had to block an author the other day because in the tags it literally said "sexualization of the word kiddo and I don't give a fuck."

All this to say, this archetype that more fanfics are leaning towards, submissive and cutsie, often fit this ideal of innocence and purity that people of color have never been included in.

And we're beginning to see this level of exclusion more and more. Not just in smut.

I get it. Everyone is in to what they are in to, and everyone can filter what they don't like.

But we have to face the fact that there are some serious issues effecting the fanfiction community on this app.

Still never going back to Wattpad, though.

[slutouttanowhere]

WIP of the week

Drew’s little princess

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x black!oc

Warning: phone sex, Drew talks you threw it, uses of the phrase “daddy” and lots of other pet names. Soft dom vibes

Special tag: @cardierreh15 (not a wrestling fan but loves Drew)

A/n: I literally finished this, this morning on my way to work, none of it was edited it, and it’s a wip. My friends encouraged me to finish so here we are, this is a nameless oc sorry for that. This will most likely conclude my wip of the week, I posted another one yesterday day go check that out it should be added to my master list by the time you see this one. I chose this picture of Drew because he really is just so sweet and adorable. This was really more so inspired by a Quinn audio that I was listening to, if you haven’t heard of Quinn (not sponsored) it’s an audio erotica app, I fucking live it worth every penny.

I’m standing in the hotel bathroom all fresh, clean, and ready for bed. Despite getting the snot beaten out of me hard enough to make me sleepy, I’m wide awake. A sensation stirring inside me, at my very core between my thighs. My mind flashed back to earlier that night when Drew had me pinned to the wall, his fingers teasing me, and how he refused to finish the job.

“Dick head.” I scoffed, and rolled my eyes. I try to put it in the back of my mind, and get some sort of sleep. I crawl into bed, to my credit I had tried each sleeping position at least once, but to no avail did it work. I laid on my back, one hand resting on my forehead, the other placed on my stomach. My fingers twitched at the thought of Drew, and I fought against it because I made some stupid unnecessary promise to myself that I’d wait for the real thing knowing damn well we’d might have a rocky re-start. I put the sex between Drew and I to a halt because “I wanted to be a mature adult, and have a healthy fresh relationship,” well look where that’s leaded you, you dumb hoe. My hand slowly slid down my body stopping at my navel to caress the exposed skin of the heart shape cut out in my sleep dress. The soft touch was decent enough to work me up, but not quite enough, and I was becoming impatient.

I spread my thighs slightly, just enough to fit my hand between, and I instantly come in contact with my own wetness. Not too much, but just a few drops from my excitement, I sigh out loud knowing that if I were to do this alone I’d have to work harder for it. My eyelids were already drooping, half of me wanted to just rest so badly, and the other half wanted to be fucked through this goddamn bed. Right when I pushed my fingers between my labia is when my phone rung.

“Ugh, you gotta me fucking—

I turn over to look at my phone on the night stand when I nearly choke on my spit. Drew is calling me. Stupidly I answer the phone, I swallow thickly, afraid that he’d somehow seen what I was doing.

“Hello princess.” His accent never ceases to excite me, granted he’s worked on his dialect over time so it doesn’t sound so much like gibberish. He’s mixed his English, and Scottish accent well. I’m convinced it’s only something he could pull off, I sigh in an attempt to cool my temperature, and slow down my thudding heart.

“Still with that nickname?” Not that I was opposed to it, it was something that started off as a stupid joke meant to get on my nerves for the time being. But as we got closer it took a life of its own, not to mention the way Drew says it in particular.

“If the shoe fits. ” He quips, I snort, and now I’m starting to wonder why in the hell he called me. Before I could speak, he cut in with a soft slow start, “And it does fit you, no matter how tough you think you are, I know the truth.” I could hear the smirk on his lips in his tone, that pitiful spark of sexual tension I had earlier was being stoked. His voice caressed around my ear as if he was right next to me. He knew how to trap me, even after all this time apart, he knew what kinds of games I liked to play.

I hummed in response, I was barely able to speak, at least not coherently. “Yea? What truth is that Andrew?” I asked, my voice unintentionally shrinking.

“That you’re not so aloof to your effect on people, especially the men in your life. They’re all wrapped around your pinkie” He claimed, a bit of frustration mixed with lustfulness in his tone.

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

“And what about you? Are you coming to my every beck and call?” It was a genuine question, I didn’t care about what anyone else wanted from me, his attention mattered the most to me.

His end went silent, if it weren’t for his heavy sigh, I would have thought he hung up. There was some shuffling before he answered, “Feels like it, but I’m not complaining. Who am I if not a loyal servant.”

His confession sparked me back to life, suddenly no longer feeling tired, and the excited bumping of my heart dared to jump out of my chest. “Just say you worship me then.” It was a joke mostly, I wasn’t sure if he was picking up on my mood from over the phone.

“Are you lying down right now? On your back?” He suddenly asked, my head tilted, but I answered anyway.

“Yes.” I confirmed, my hand rested lazily on my lower stomach.

“So you were thinking about me then?” He didn’t need confirmation for that, it was just a habit I fell into, and that’s what stupidly told him about.

My body answered for me, the ache between my thighs stirred, and my back was already arching up off the bed. He took my silence as the confirmation he needed, a deep chuckle could be heard from his end. I’m glad he found this funny.

“Where are your hands?” He asked, my fingers twitched, and began to make circles on my skin. Goosebumps rose on my skin, and sent a shiver down my spine.

“On my lower stomach.”

“Listen to me very closely sweetheart, I want you to be a good girl and do as I say. Can you do that for me?” He asked gingerly, and I had no choice but to obey, how could I be a brat when he’s being so sweet?

“Yes.”

“Take your fingers, the middle and ring finger. Put them up to those pretty little lips of your, and suck on them for me.” He instructed in a soft voice, I stared up into the dark, and just as the tips of my fingers touched my lips he spoke again. “Close your eyes angel.” I could hear the grin on his lips, he knew me too well, and I loved that for me.

I let my eyelids flutter close, now being totally enclosed in darkness, my middle fingers in my mouth as I was told, and Drew’s deep voice caressing me. “That’s my good girl, I love it when you listen. That’s how you get rewarded isn’t it?” He chuckled deeply at the sound of my airy sigh, I imagined these were his fingers, and that his hands were caressing my breast. Despite what others may think, Drew was truly a gentle giant. He’s a teddy bear, and I reveled in the fact that he’s all mine.

“Now, I want you to spread those thick, luscious thighs of your sweetheart, as wide as they can go.” He instructed quietly, his voice sounded euphonious, he could talk the pants off anyone. My hand rested on my inner thigh, it didn’t feel nearly as good as Drew’s large, warm hands. The feeling of the way he grabbed me made me weak in the knees; he had a way of making me feel strong and beautiful, while simultaneously making me feel small and dainty.

I could hear shuffling on his side of the phone before he settled, “you still with me angel?” He asked, I didn’t trust my own voice, but I mustered a response.

“Mmh, I’m here.” I mumbled,

“Good, I know you’re not wearing any fucking panties are you?” He didn’t wait for my response, because of course he was right in his assumptions. “I don’t want you to waste any time, I want to put you to sleep tonight.” My heart melted at the gesture, I always had trouble sleeping, but not since Drew and I got together. If he wasn’t fucking me to sleep, he’s singing to me, talking to me, or watching tv till I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.

“Take your wet fingers and trace over that pretty pussy lips of yours.” He paused as my fingers slid over my luscious labia, the coldness of my fingers in contrast to the warm soft skin caused a slight throbbing that was hard to ignore. A chill ran over my body causing goosebumps, and hardening my nipples. The friction from the cotton dress made a sharp pain shoot across my skin, and right down to my core.

“Ah.” I moaned out, a tickle sensation arouse between my thighs, and all I wanted my Drew here with his hand wrapped around my throat telling me how pretty I was.

“I know baby, I know, but don’t touch your clit just yet. Slide one finger in, use the middle fingers just as I would have. Go slow, take your time, you’re gonna finish I promise.” I loved how I wasn’t expected to talk, he allowed me to enjoy the moment, but that’s all I could manage in this state regardless. I pushed my middle finger into my core, slowly at first, instantly I’m coated in my own slippery sap. This was Drew’s doing, “fuck you turn me on so much Daddy.” I whimpered, I pumped my finger slowly arousing myself even more, and when the throbbing started I lifted on leg back as far as it could go.

“Keep going sweetheart, I want both fingers as deep as you can go.” He encouraged me to continue, I paused for a second to put connect my phone to my AirPods so he’d be in both my ears. It took me a second to get back in rhythm, but soon I found my groove again.

My lips fell open, my eyes fluttering close as waves of pleasure ripples through me. Though it still wasn’t enough, the nagging throbbing from my brown glistening bud wouldn’t stop. “Ugh…fuck I need it, mmm.” I pouted, tears of frustration lined my eyes causing them to sting.

“I know, go ahead and take those fingers, and put them back in your mouth and taste yourself. Tell me how good it is.” He grunted out, the sound of his voice surrounding me, I laid there with my eyes hooded, half sleepy, half aroused. Honestly my favorite combination. “Damn, Im good.” I giggled sucking every last bit off my fingers, and letting them go with a pop of my lips.

“Why in the hell do you think I’m so feral about you.” He paused to instruct me further, “pull those gorgeous breast out princess. Just let them fall out naturally, don’t try and hold them together or anything. That’s it baby, I can see how comfortable you are, the way you’re laying with one leg back, spread wide for me as much as possible.” He inhaled deeply, “such a good girl for daddy, isn’t that right?” He cooed, a draft of cold air caressed my nipples, they tightened sharply.

“Ohh, Daddy please, can I come please.” I begged, he always had me feeling so sensual, yet animalistic. The way he talks to me, the way he touches me, it made me want to rip out of my clothes and let him have his way with me where we stood.

“You’re so sweet, I’d give you anything you asked, do it baby rub that pretty pink bud of yours. Fuck if I was there I’d suck on it, and wouldn’t let go tell you were a fucking mess in my hands.” He kept talking while I drew circles around, and around, slowly building myself to an explosive climax. I relaxed my body into the soft hotel cotton sheets, I didn’t wanna cheat myself by going too fast. I was trying to off my own greediness. “And oh my god how I love the feel of you in my hands princess, it’s all ever think about. That soft, warm cinnamon skin, god how do you always smell so good. I mean the fragrance mixed with your natural scent, and fuck that body.” I didn’t care if he was reading me the goddamn car manual, his voice was so mother fucking sexy I almost came right there.

“I know you don’t like talking about your body, but I swear every time I see your arse I just want to fucking take a bite out of it.” He groaned, I wasn’t sure if he remembered that I was here from the way he was rambling, but his high praises made me feel gooey. “Then those strong, yet squishy thighs…mmm makes me want to take my tongue, and run it over every inch of you.” He voice came out huskily.

“I’m so close.” I whispered trying not to disrupt my own flow by talking.

“Don’t stop princess, don’t you fucking stop, let me hear it baby. Let me hear how much of a good little slut you arm for me.” Still in the softest, yet gruff voice, Drew talked me into a climax more intense than I could have imagined. I knew for a fact it wouldn’t have been this good without him, my body convulsed, and that back of my head buried into the pillow as I arched my back as deep as I could. My thighs clamped close around my hand, my breaths deep, and shaky. I wasn’t sure how loud I was, but I couldn’t be bothered with something like embarrassment right now. All I could hear was Drew soothing me, I knew if he were here, he would have turned me over on my stomach, and rubbed my back till I passed out like a freakin baby.

The second my body relaxed I was falling asleep, and I didn’t even try to fight it. My tension had finally been released thanks to him, and he didn’t even have to touch me. “Get some rest princess, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Was the last thing I heard before the phone hung up, and I drifted off to sleep.

[cyn-write]

The Little Cecelia - Chapter 3: A Change in Tides

Summary - Every 100 years, the spirits of the Great Seven and their Rivals return. Sometimes, they attempt to right the wrongs of the past, get revenge, or relive the same story, but it all is the same - only one spirit gets their Happily Ever After. Azul has always been fascinated with the human world, which only intensified once he met a human girl, Grace Trien. He desires to become a Great Mage of both Land and Sea and to explore the human world and all its wonders with the Tweels and Grace by his side, but Prince Rielle is willing to do whatever it takes to stop the little Cecelia from getting his Happy Ending.

Chapter 3- After Seven years, a lot of things have changed. Azul has become the "Merchant of the Deep" and Grace has become a Lady of High Society, and their feelings have grown as well. Upon Grace's return, Azul is determined to confess his feelings but his plans change when Grace shares troubling news with the trio.

Prev - Master List

Pairing - Azul Ashengrotto x F!Oc (Grace Trein)

Tags/Warning - Pinning, Scheming, and Childhood Friends to Lovers!

Notes - After a long (unplanned) break, I've finally returned! Thank you everyone for your patience! This chapter took a long time to write but I hope you enjoy it as things start to heat up. Just an FYI: Grace Trein is based on my Oc Grace Wilde so if you want to learn more about her click the link, but you can replace her name when reading if you want to read it as Yuu or another name. This is only the third chapter of 11, so if you enjoy this and want to be tagged or have questions, please let me know! This is also on Ao3 if you want to follow it over there. Comments, likes, and Reblogs are appreciated!

Seven summers come and go like the shifting tides.

Azul spent his days and nights perfecting himself and his magic. He swore to become a powerful Mage and that he did. Every waking moment was spent studying every book in the grotto. From potions to spells, he had mastered his craft. In the midst of the magic books were books on business and trade which he poured over every night. In a few short summers, Azul had become a master merchant, selling potions and restored treasures.

The twins became Azul’s partners in crime and aided in growing his business. They helped him gather information and ingredients to use to his advantage. They found mermaids, mermen, and some truly desperate humans who had no one else to turn to and led them to his doors. In seven years, Azul had gone from being a whimpering no one to the mysterious and powerful “Merchant of the Deep.”

Despite his growing business, he still set aside time each night to talk to Grace. It was the part of his day he treasured most as he would put down his work and simply talk to the person he treasured most. Her voice would take him out of his business guise and remind him why he was doing all of this. She also became a business asset as she had a good understanding of finance and trade due to her schooling and training under her father. Azul often found himself running his plans by Grace and she would provide honest feedback or return the next day with information that would aid him.

Beyond business, the two would talk about anything under the sea. From books they read to random musings, these simple moments brought both out of their heads and let them just be. For a few moments they were not “The Merchant of the Deep” or “Lady Trein of High Society,” they could simply be Azul and Grace, two teens dreaming of a better future.  

One conversation that would often lull them to sleep was the conversation of “what if…”

“I wish you could be here Azul,” Grace mused, “You would have loved it…”

“The more we talk the more I wish I was born human.” He would hum.

“Being human isn’t all its cracked up to be,” She would say, “If you’re born into the right station and gender, your fine. Honestly, I feel more like a bird than a person at times. All I’m supposed to do is sit pretty, speak when I’m spoken too… smile and nod as people talk about my worth... To be honest I wish I could have been born a mermaid, then I could swim away with you and the tweels.” She sounded like she was dreaming again, but they did that often.

“If you are born the right mer maybe… the sea is a dangerous place, and if you’re not the right kind of mer or swim into the wrong places… you could end up shark bait.” Azul had a dark tone to his voice, as much as he enjoyed picturing Grace as a Mer, he didn’t want her to face the monsters larking in the sea. “Besides, I think we can do better… We could run things. Create something that last centuries after we’re gone.”

“And what would that be? A potions business? Trade business?” Grace pondered, “I would love to create something, but sadly women of my status are not usually able to… We usually have to marry for wealth or diplomatic reasons and run our husband’s estate, birth heirs, and raise them to do the same… But I’m hoping to be different. Mama and Papa promised me when I was little that I would have a say in my hand and my future. They even promised that I would get the villa and part of the estate once he retires.”

“I hope so to…” Azul looked at the bracelet on his wrist and dream that the hand she would choose was his. “Do you ever wish you could just... run away from everything? Start somewhere new where no one knew who you were and could just…be?”

Grace was quiet for a moment. Azul thought he scared her away, but when she spoke again, it sent all three heart a flutter, “I would, if you would go with me.”

Ever since that conversation, Azul made it his mission to become human and be with her as more than a friend, but a partner.

Grace kept her promise and returned to the grotto each summer. The three short months she spent with them each year were filled with joy and fun. She showed them everything she learned at school and brought them a variety of land treasures (much to Floyd’s delight). She also taught them everything she could about life on land from human etiquette to fashion to food. By the time she left for her final year of schooling, the trio had a good grasp on the ins and outs of high land culture.

When the day came for Grace to finally return to the grotto, the three were anxious for her return for different reasons and Jade found it entertaining.

Floyd was impatiently waiting for Grace as he anticipated the gifts she promised to bring. How did he cope with the impatience and boredom? He messed with Azul who was a nervous wreck.

Azul was always a nervous wreck when Grace returned from boarding school, but this year it was amplified for a singular reason. Azul (after relentless Bullying from the Tweels) made a bet with the twins that was finally going to confess his feelings to Grace and present her with the human transformation potion he made. This “bet” amplified his nerves and the tweels found it entertaining to tease him about it.

By the time mid-day came around, Azul was pacing in the water and Floyd was trying to catch his tentacles as he passed. “Why isn’t she here yet?” Azul muttered, “She said she would be here by high noon. What if shes- AK! FLOYD!”

“hehehe~ I got Zuuul!” Floyd waved Azul’s captured tentacle around until Azul used that tentacle to slap him in the back of the head. “Owwie!”

“Azul you’re overthinking this, her Father is probably just keeping her.” Jade sat in the back corner of the cave re-reading one of the books Grace had given him years ago.

“I know. I know.” Azul muttered and returned to pacing, “But what if-“

“What if, What if, that’s all you’ve been saying for WEEKS.” Floyd dramatically flopped over Jade’s rock, “She’s a strong Shrimpy and any fish with eyes can see she’s liked you for YEARS!”

Jade nodded as he pushed his brother off his rock, “Besides, if you don’t tell her. We will. That’s the deal~”

Azul shook his head at the brothers’ antics. He knew they were right, but his hearts were still beating rapidly. Before Floyd could launch himself at Jade, the three heard the fast shifting of sand, shifting of fabric, and the signal whistle of their dear human.

Floyd shifted his launch towards the caves shore and bolted towards the entrance. Azul tried to calm his beating hearts as Grace entered the cave.

She certainly has grown over the years, but she has changed a lot over the last nine months. Her features had refined, her hair darkened to a golden hue, and her figure was no longer “boyish” (a term her brothers used to torment her) but full. She was even dressed differently from last summer. Instead of the flowing dresses and bows in her hair, she entered the cave in a structured summer dress, gloves, and woven sun hat.

“SHRIMPY!” Floyd launched himself onto the beach and into Grace’s outstretched arms.

“Floyd!” Grace kneeled so Floyd could give her his signature hug properly. “Oh, I’ve missed your squeezes!”

As she welcomed Floyd, Jade took his time crawling up the beach and was more gentlemanly in his greeting… until he pulled Floyd’s tail.

“Floyd, it’s rude to hog attention.” He reprimanded his brother with a teasing smile.

“Hey!” Floyd lost his balance and fell back, loosening his grip on Grace just in time for Jade to steal her.

“Ahh! Jade!” Grace laughed as she fell into his embrace. “I’ve missed you too!”

“Welcome Home, Grace,” Jade said, helping Grace steady herself as she stood up.

Azul never felt more self-conscious then when he made his way onto the shore to greet Grace. His arms felt weighted, his stomach felt bloated, he could feel all his imperfections highlighted on his body. The guppies in his stomach swam rapidly as she finally stood and looked his way. She set down her basket and walked over to Azul with arms open and bright smile.

Azul felt his lips turn up as he wrapped his arms around her and she returned his embrace, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” She gave him a quick squeeze before stepping back, hands in his. Her bright eyes scanned his figure and she looked at him in awe, “You’ve certainly changed though! Look at you!” She smiled so brightly. “You look wonderful, Azul, truly you hard work has paid off!”

Azul felt the guppies settle and his cheeks warm, “You’ve changed a lot yourself. This is certainly a new look.”

“Thank you,” Grace smiled. He lifted a hand for her to spin and she did with a laugh, “Ever since my birthday, Father has insisted I dress ‘properly.’ Honestly, I never thought I would say this but father has been exhausting.” She shook her head. “Actually, that’s why I’m late.”

Azul’s worry resurfaced and he squeezed her hand still in his. “What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story,” Grace’s smile returned, and she said, “We should get settled first before I get into that mess. Why don’t I give you your gifts first before Floyd tares my basket?”

“Too late,” Azul nodded over to Floyd and Jade already shuffling through her discarded basket. Her blanket, snacks, and some books were already spread around them with Jade placing the objects to the side before Floyd threw them in his search for the gifts.

Grace just shook her head at the two and chuckled, “What am I going to do with you two?”

Floyd’s head shot up from his search and said, “Hand over the shinnies!”

Azul let himself genuinely laugh for the first time in what felt like years. He followed Grace as she spread out her picnic blanket and settled on it. Floyd had all of her attention as she reached into her skirt pockets and brought out three wrapped items. “I guess, I guess.” Floyd reached for them but Grace quickly moved them out of reach. “Na-ah-ah! Patience Floyd! You’d think you would’ve learned after last year!”

“How many times do I have say sorry!” Floyd whined as Jade held his brother back.

“Once more as always.” Jade gave Floyd the stink eye. Last year Grace got Jade a terrarium with small figurines of woodland creatures and Floyd ended up breaking it in his search for his gift. She got Jade another and Floyd felt terrible, but Jade still holds it over his head whenever he can.

Grace handed the objects to them one at a time starting with Jade. She gave him a small jar shaped object which he delicately unwrapped to Floyd’s dismay, “There was a small shop in town that finds these, I described your fascinations to him and the shopkeep assured me you would like this!” Inside the package was a clear glass jar terrarium with rotting wood inside dotted with small white umbrellas, “He said since they are already growing, as long as you keep them in dark, moist places they should keep growing.”

Jade’s eyes sparkled as he looked at the jar. He looked like a child given a seabunny during Winterfest. He gingerly placed the jar down before giving Grace a hug. “Thank you.” He said softly, letting a few happy trills slip through. “It’s perfect.”

“Ya, ya, you got plants gimmie mine!!” Floyd pouted and his tail twitched in annoyance. Grace giggled at his childlike annoyance.

“Alright, hold your horses,” Grace said as she picked up a small rectangular object. The moment it grazed Floyd’s skin, he snatched it and shredded the wrapping paper. “I saw this in a traveling shop and had to get it for you!” The rectangular object was a case and inside the case was a small instrument, “It’s called a harmonica! You blow into this side and it makes music!”

Floyd picked up the instrument and smiled wide, “A LAND SNARFLUCS!” He put it to his lips and blew a few notes, rolling his tail in glee. After sliding it across his lip a few times, Floyd put the harmonica down and wrapped Grace in a big squeeze. “THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU! Mom never let me keep these!”

“Ya. Thanks a lot.” Azul sighed knowing he will never know peace again.

“Don’t worry, I got you and Jade earplugs too.” Grace said, patting Floyds back as she returned the squeeze.

Once Floyd let Grace go so he could admire his new shiny, she finally turned to Azul. Azul way always the last to receive his gift, and he was fine with it. He liked to think it was because she was saving the best for last. Grace took out a slim case and handed it to him.

“I know you don’t need these, but when I saw them I couldn’t help but think of you.” Grace said as Azul took the wrapped case. He unwrapped it and felt the smooth leather of the case on his fingers, tracing the Bell logo imprinted lid. When he opened the case and saw a pair of round spectacles. The golden frames were decorated simply with a white chain connecting the two ends so the seer my put them down for a moment without losing them. They were a simple, sleek, ordinary pair of frames, but the fact that she thought of him when she saw them made his hearts beat faster.

“Go ahead, put them on! I want to see how you look!” Grace said as she reached into her pocket for her hand mirror.

Azul did as she asked and put on the spectacles. There were clear lenses so he could see his image in the mirror clearly. He looked… older, more sophisticated, like the merchants in stories. It felt odd to look at the reflection, his reflection. The person staring back looked like him, but with confidence and charm.

He looked up to ask her thoughts and Grace was blushing. Her mouth was slightly ajar and she was flush. When their eyes met, she held his gaze. That is one thing Azul always admired, she always looked him in the eyes.

“S-see. I knew they would look good on you,” She said softly as she put the mirror away.

Azul smirked at her remark, “You’ve always had impeccable taste.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Grace chuckled and shook her head, “that’s a rare opinion according to my brothers and their wives. They’ve criticized my every move since I’ve returned.”

“Speaking of, why don’t we return to the subject of your tardiness?” Azul said, settling beside Grace, spectacles still on. “What happened?”

She sighed and picked at her gloves, removing them as she spoke, “The short explanation is… a lot happened while I was gone leading to father pushing my debut.” Azul felt his hearts stop. Her Debut? Doesn’t that mean… no. Grace continued as she picked at her dress. “The Long of it is… complicated.”

Azul’s tentacle moved its way to her mid-back and his hand covered hers, “I can take complicated.”

Grace sighed and the tweels turned their attentions away from their gifts as she spoke. “While I was at school, apparently my brothers and their wives decided to squander their portion of the family fortune and their dowries. Against my advisement, Father has housebound them and limited their spending ability, but by that point they had already made a sizable dent in the coffers. He doesn’t want to strain our people more than he has to so Father has turned to other methods of regaining funds.” She squeezed Azul’s hand for reassurance as she continued, “He is holding my debut ball the Friday. The invitations were sent out already, and this morning while I was getting my gown tailored, Father gave me the rundown of the ‘most suitable candidates’ attending.  Apparently, I must choose a husband at this ball or else.”  She laced her fingers through his, holding it close as tears threatened her eyes, “When I reminded him of the promise, he said I did have a choice, but it must be made by the end of the ball or else its moot…” She started shaking.

There was a thick silence between the four. Azul’s tentacle wrapped around her midsection in a comforting hug. “So, you’ll be engaged by Saturday?”

She placed her free hand on top of the tentacle and rubbed her thumb along his skin, “According to father I should be… but it is still my choice. A-and who knows, I could meet the one. A plethora of fairytale romances happen that way…” She looked him in the eyes as she said this. She was looking for reassurance, to convince herself that everything will be okay. “Maybe… my Prince Charming will come sweep me off my feet.”

That’s when it hit him. A plan. A glorious, beautiful plan. His tentacles slithered as it formed and Grace caught on to him.

“What?” She asked, “I know that twinkle in your eye, you’re scheming.”

“I certainly am,” Azul ran the rudimentary plan in his mind and there were some kinks, but it should work. “It’s risky, but it just might work.”

“Ooooo! This is gonna be fun,” Floyd said chuckling.

“Mind sharing?” Jade asked slithering to the water.

Azul’s tentacle’s started drawing out a plan in the sand, “Your Father said you just had to chose a suitor correct? He never said it had to be from his list, correct?”

“Technically, yes. Where are you going with this?” Grace asked, curiosity twinkling in her eyes.

“Well, if you already had a suitor with wealth. You could hold off your father for a while until you decide to marry.” Azul offered up.

“That would be wonderful, except father would want to meet the mysterious suitor and know why it is being delayed.” Grace said.

Azul had to take a deep breath before he said the next part, “Didn’t you say you wanted us to meet him one day?”

“You mean-”

“Around 11 o’clock on the night of the party. You will introduce your father to me as your…Chosen Fiancé. I have enough gold and treasure to appease him for a long time. The excuse will be we are waiting till I finish a human transformation potion so I can be with you on land. If your father is the man you say he is, then that should hold him for at least a season. Enough time for you to truly chose someone to marry.” He took both her hands in his and squeezed them, “As I said, its risky, but it just might work. But I won’t do anything without your approval.”

Grace returned the squeeze and looked at him with those lovely green eyes, “Are you sure? This could put you and the tweels in so much danger. And I-”

“I-we care about you and your happiness. There is no need to worry about us. We can handle the danger.” Azul’s tentacle came up and caressed her cheek, “You mean the world to us, and we will do anything for your happiness.” Azul felt his face heat up and he turned away to look at the tweels smirking at him, “isn’t that right?”

Thankfully, the tweels played along. “Ya! We’d do anything for our shrimpy!”

“We are happy to help a dear friend~”

Grace looked at the tweels then turned back to Azul, “Promise me you’ll keep me in the loop, and stay safe?”

Azul nodded, “I promise.”

She sighed and a sly smile grew on her face, “Well then, I guess we should flesh out this plan then, shouldn’t we?”

The rest of the evening, Grace, Azul, Jade, and Floyd developed the plan down to the minute. Every move was plotted out and obstacles considered. By the time the sun touched the sea, they had a foolproof plan prepared for the ball.

After Grace left, Jade approached Azul whispered, “What are you truly planning Azul? I’ve never seen you make a one-sided deal like this before.”

“Oh, that’s where your wrong, Jade.” Azul smirked as one tentacle brought up a golden glowing potion to his eyes, “Once this deal is done, not only will I have won our bet, but I will have everything I’ve ever wanted in my grasp.” He turned to Floyd trying out his harmonica, “Floyd, I think its time we pay Sam a visit. I’m going to need a suit for Friday’s ball.”

“Hehehe, I knew this was gonna be fun~” Floyd’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“It certainly will,” Azul peaked around the cave and gazed at the manor lights. There his dearest pearl was having dinner with her family, unbeknownst to her that her Prince Charming would sweep her off her feet at the ball, and right into his tentacles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @twistedcece @thisisafish123 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa

Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more or want to get tagged, please let me know! Comments, likes, and Reblogs are appreciated! (Do not Steal)

[silver-tooth-the-panther]

Some Ideas For A TADC

AU!

Now, I’ve had some ideas since I got into The Amazing Digital Circus, so I figured I should share them!

First off, I thought up of an OC! He’s a tall navy blue wolf plushie that has yellow slinkies (yes, the spring toys) for his neck, legs, and arms! His eyes are similar to Barnaby from Billie Bust Up, but instead of them being different shades of orange, they are different shades of purple. His name is Party Animal (his human name is Percy Atticus) and he’s a rather strange one at the circus. Party doesn’t seem to care about finding the exit…I wonder why…

Anyways! There another idea that I had as well. What happens to the memories and character traits that are removed from the humans when they go inside the digital world? Well, perhaps they are turned into whole other beings that get thrown to the depths of the digital world!

Here are the creatures known as The Identities!

Penny (Pomni): Penny is a black and white character who wears a white suit with a black suit vest. A soft bow tie takes the place of a normal tie and a spear’s blade takes the place of where the bell should be on her tail. She still has her signature jester hat, but it is black and white and bears no bells. Her eyes are as dark as tar and tiny white spirals replace her pupils. A bone is wielded in her hand at all times. Her and Bubble would get along well, since they have the same smile. She does seem to wear a mask that covers the rest of her face though…Personality wise, She’s sweet, but can be rather off putting, and is incredibly loyal. Just don’t let her horrific appearance fool you, she’s a sweet lad. She’s the official leader of this rag tag gang.

Annie (Ragatha): A weeping raggedy doll who has a serrated mouth and one loose button eye. Her functioning eye was ripped out, thus she is completely blind. Her dress is covered in rips and tears and her mitten hands are covered in black blood and have been turned into sharps claws. She cries most of the time, she carries the burdens of Ragatha’s past life. Luckily, Penny makes for great company (and a lovely girlfriend!)

File 1 (Jax): His real file name is 17384295, but his friends just shorten it down to 1. Since he is an NPC, File 1 is supposed to exist in the circus, but here he is! He’s mostly silent, but is very loyal to the Queen. File 1’s senses are incredibly heightened senses. This mixed in with his teleportation abilities makes him a lethal prankster! His body is a bulky, black mass with long arms and a head that resembles a rabbit. Red teeth and eyes glow on his face. If you miss them, you’ll never know he’s there…

File 2 (Gummigoo): File 258963 is his real name, but the gang shortens his name too. This creature is a melted mass that fused with machinery to keep his body as stable as it could be. File 2 is the most rational of the group and remembers every little detail. Even details that never existed…

Angel (Gangle): This mess of ribbons of broken masks is best described as unpredictable and shy. The only mask that isn’t broken is a pitch black one that has a strange eye to the left. She typically serves as the group’s security.

Zoey (Zooble): Oh where to begin on this mess. They’re quite literally in shambles! This creature is made from various parts of random beasts! A bear’s leg, a dragon’s tail, a donkey’s hoof, you name it all! They seem to be very depressed and tends to sleep than play.

Kevin (Kinger): A broken king chess piece with a makeshift mouth, spider legs, and veins connecting its hands and eyes to its body? What could possibly be creepy about this one? He’s incredibly stable and is typically the one you go to when you need a problem solved!

Tex (Party): Tex is a black furred, two-headed beast. One of his head bears no soul, so it limbs down and its eyes swing from side to side. His limbs are now made of jump rope and his claws are large enough to pierce the heart of any human. STAY AWAY FROM HIM! This creature is genuinely abusive and will try to steal your code to free itself from the depths. He was the one who blinded Annie and who overthrew Penny. Maybe…that’s all about to change…

That’s a wrap! I hope you enjoy this little idea! If you wanna leave any questions or requests for this AU, my ask box is always open!

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Hello, Mr. Monster (Three. Shadow)

Summary: Eros and Psyche retelling with soulmate!AU elements. Morpheus x oc/female reader

Master List

Chapter Track: "Dream State (Dark Day)" by Son Lux

18+ (violence, swearing throughout, referenced child murder)

TAGGING: Tag lists break my posts, BUT I reply to comments the day of new chapters, so you'll get a personal update every time you stop to chat. ;)

A/N: Very short chapter this time. Mental health is quietly shitting itself and making writing difficult. Thank you all for your patience.

3: Shadow

The Not Deer smelled blood.

It smelled her blood, sweet with sand, ripe with magic. And this time, unlike all the others before, she had not escaped – and she was alone.

Teeth aching to close on her living flesh, thirsty for the hot blood flecked with its master’s power, it screamed.

She’d fallen too far inside her little moving fortress, and it couldn’t reach her. It could see, though. It could smell. And wasn’t it wonderful? Fresh red bloomed on her face, filling the night with the scent of the hunt.

If it could get through the window or beat down the door, it could have her. Finally. Eat her all up and lick the fluids off the carpet, crunch her bones and chew the soft fat of her pretty brain. Then sleep off a full belly under a pile of last year’s lacy, skeleton leaves, as it did after every good feeding. It caught children who left the path and slipped just beyond their parents’ sight, drunk men daring the dark on a summer’s night, anyone foolish enough to put too much faith in their own skills under the trees when the sun went down. In a hundred years, there had been many.

But she would be the best meal, and the last, because word already spread that the lord was returned, and soon the Not Deer would be missed. Urgency fueled its attack, but its antlers caught on the window frame, and though its legs stretched too long for a deer, its hooves couldn’t strike the valley between the seats.

It rammed the van, furious. Grey foam frothed from its lips, turning the forest floor black with rot where it dripped.

“What are you doing?”

A century was not long enough to forget its master’s voice, and as it heard the whisper of eons at its back, shock froze over delight.

It stalked the dark long enough to recognize prey. It was not a deer, but it froze like one now with fate ringing in its ears. The hunter waited as the Not Deer came to rapid terms with its renewed vulnerability, and the nightmare turned, clicking, to face the Nightmare King.

The Not Deer did not have words. That was not how it had been made. But the king didn’t ask his question in search of an answer.

The Not Deer was meant to hunt in dreams, to threaten and rip at hunters who killed too many, to remind those without caution what they had to fear. But it feasted on living mortals instead. The Corinthian introduced him to the fantasy, made the cut in the nightmare’s mind that festered into fantasy, and when it had the chance, it left the Dreaming to hunt.

It consumed a young dreamer who’d left his bed to catch frogs under the full moon, and the boy had tasted well. So, the Not Deer found new dreamers to eat, glutting itself on muscle and marrow. Until it smelled her. Then it ate others in frustration, because nothing smelled as good as the one with his maker’s name scratched in her heart, glowing gold, drawing him like a new lamb’s bleats or a dying rabbit’s shriek.

The King of Nightmares simply looked at it and understood. He’d already known. He must have. It was in his nature as it was in the Not Deer’s to admire screams.

“You have betrayed your purpose.” The king spoke softly, and the Not Deer bowed, the tattered flesh on its antlers dragging along the dirt. “And you have chosen most dangerous prey.”

Dangerous not because of herself, for all her tricks. Dangerous as the mate of a greater monster, a jealous king with dominion over every night terror and the things night terrors feared.

Eyes darker than any shadow, hard and unforgiving as obsidian, the king stalked nearer. The Not Deer didn’t move. It had witnessed the Endless’s wrath, had seen others of its kind unmade, and knew it was too late to flee.

A low grown and the chime of shifting glass disturbed the dead quiet of the forest, and the Not Deer wondered if the king’s mate would wake. It hoped. She cared for the weaker ones, the creatures of the Dreaming that did not bite into the waking world as the Not Deer had. Even though it hunted her, hurt her, she may show mercy, may ask for it.

But she slept on, disturbed by other nightmares in the Dreaming, and the king’s frown grew deeper. His attention splintered between worlds, and just as her dreaming had led him to the threat in one world, her distress in the other called him home.

Perhaps he would forget. Perhaps the Not Deer may escape to find more dreamers and keep itself as itself.

Even as it began to imagine what it could chase, kill, taste with more days of freedom, the Nightmare King’s eye turned back to it, and he lifted one long arm to spin the Not Deer back to sand.

“I am needed elsewhere. I have not the time to return the tortures you are owed.”

It bucked while it still had legs, roaring and clicking as body, senses, and mind fell grain by grain. If it thought its master would return, it would never have dared. It did not want to disappear. It wanted, it wanted…

“And yet.” The king stooped to take a handful of the witch’s salt from the circle she’d made around her vehicle, and he sifted it between his fingers, thoughtful as the ash stained his fingertips. “Since it was her pain and fear you stole –” he lifted his hand above the half-formed Not Deer and let it rain down “– let her repay it.”

The black salt caught inside the nightmare and burned like it never had before. It wasn’t discomfort. It wasn’t an unpleasant, stinging shock. It was agony without end, and the Not Deer abandoned any idea of survival or escape in an instant.

It needed to be unmade. To stop. To forget.

Its lord did not lift his hand, and the legless, heaving beast of horror whined in desperation.

“Perhaps this taste of her power will satisfy you.”

If it had words, it would beg.

The Nightmare King’s attention had already shifted back to the Dreaming, however, and he paused only long enough for his shadow to swallow the wailing thing before moving on to where his mate’s dreaming mind called for help.

Then all the Not Deer knew was the darkness and its pain within it. Her scent twisted through the sand, and soon it summoned no hunger, no greed, only unbridled terror it could not escape. Not even when it tore itself apart.

----------------------------------------------

In the Dreaming, the Nightmare King pulled her from the nightmares and held her in his hands for the first time, negotiating an opportunity to soothe her, to feel the places in their souls where they met, so she might understand…

----------------------------------------------

She woke with something damp between her legs and glass studding her palm.

Spears of light poked through the forest canopy, glinting sharp through her eyes, into the sensitive spaces behind them, burning her retinas from the inside out. Rainbows danced in the broken window, reflecting in the shattered diamonds over the floor. The driver’s seat. Her clothes. She decided to wait before trying to move, get her senses together, give her head time to steady before she did anything stupid. Like grating herself like Parmesan cheese on the remains of her window.

She closed her eyes for a minute. Breathed.

Something was off.

Her mouth was dry as cotton, and her tongue did nothing to help her equally dry lips as she pulled it over the broken, peeling skin.

Damn.

She felt…

Confused.

Hurt from her encounter with the Not Deer, but also well rested. Lighter almost. Like she suddenly had more attention, more energy, even though she had glass in her hair and a situation she strongly suspected may lead to a UTI if not immediately addressed. Which of course led to the question of what the hell she and the monster had really done in her sleep, if it was just the wettest dream of her life or if she ought to be running for Plan B. She didn’t think he’d go that far without asking, not after he so carefully sought permission. And wasn’t that a hell of a thing?

Sought permission. Honored it. Soothed her and held in a way her waking mind struggled to grasp. The concepts melted in her thoughts like ice as she woke, dripping away in cool streams of sensation and memory.

He’d been grand, and big, and frightening, but he didn’t use his power to crush her, as she’d expected.

After so many years anticipating the worst, she wasn’t sure what to do with this reality. Where things hadn’t gone tits up. With a creature beyond a god who assumed he had boundaries before she even drew them. Where the worst hadn’t happened.

Her monster had made a riddle of himself for her to solve. She’d need time to come to terms with that. With him. After a lifetime of the darkest expectations… well.

Getting up, though. That came first.

She shifted, wary of the bad, bad glitter threatening an unplanned trip to an urgent care as she picked the best spots to plant her elbows.

Rolling onto her knees, she tried to crawl forward, but something snagged her foot, and she finally noticed the pull of a grip around her ankle. Her heart didn’t skip a beat. Her breathing didn’t stutter. None of the normal, horrified reactions burst from trembling lips and teary eyes.

She knew that hand.

Looking towards the passenger seat, she saw the desiccated arm vanishing into the shadows under the pilot chair. Dead skin flaked away from crusty patches of old blood, and misty black shadows curled within, ready to turn into nightmare claws to terrorize small children.

The fingers squeezed, questioning.

“I’m alright, Jeff.” She reached down to pat him, glad to find something as expected and faithful as the needy nightmare worrying after her wellbeing. “It’s okay. Not Deer still lurking outside?”

Two quick squeezes – No.

“Good.”

The bastard must’ve given up when Jeff arrived. Never did like an audience, and Jeff could be a real pain in the ass if he wanted to be. Pretty literally.

As far as she knew, Jeff was only the arm. Maybe he had a few more inky swaths of darkness he kept tucked under low furniture, but he never manifested anything past a bicep. He didn’t speak with words, only by touch, and they’d learned to communicate by squeeze ages ago.

Once upon a time, he’d been the first nightmare to find her, and on the last night she had a family, he’d clung to her leg like a shackle – warning her, begging her not to follow her curious ears to the raised voices outside her door. Ever since, even though he had terrible timing, she never doubted his intentions.

The touches in her dream with Morpheus told her a lot of other things she wasn’t fully prepared to analyze.

She hadn’t had a fucking cup of coffee yet. She couldn’t be expected to contemplate the single greatest threat to her continued freedom before caffeination. Simply unreasonable. Inhumane.

So, she shoved it out of her mind – again – and climbed out of the mess. Her first aid kit was in the back, under the narrow bunk where she usually slept. She popped the plastic case open with her back to the sliding door, the Not Deer’s dent poking into her peripheral vision as a grim reminder of the previous night.

Another nearly.

She had a strange relationship with death. Dozens of near misses over the years made the sickening adrenaline rush and following crash routine. Some people could schedule their periods in their planners. Some days it felt like mortal peril penciled itself into hers. She was afraid, but too often, and she’d lost the technique of it.

As she plucked a few stubborn bits of glass from her hands, cleaned the tiny holes they left behind, and bandaged everything up, Jeff made himself useful. He swept up the fragments he could reach in long sweeps, pulling it all into the fathomless darkness of his home under the pilot seat. When he’d cleared that side of the van, he withdrew and manifested on the driver’s side. He reached up to pluck shards from the cushions, and his fingers spidered along the carpet, seeking little dangers he could remove from her world. In the time she took cleaning herself up and shaking the glass out of her hair outside, the nightmare cleared the interior of debris.

“Thank you, Jeff,” she said as she hauled herself into the driver’s seat.

She caught her own eye in the rearview mirror. She caught her first look at the bloody goose egg over her left brow, too. Could be worse, though the swelling might get some attention she didn’t want. Rusty red flakes peeled away from the trails leading into her hair, and she tentatively poked the edge of the swelling. Like running her tongue over a canker sore – she just couldn’t help herself, even though she knew how it would end.

Yup.

It hurt.

She groaned, dropping back against the headrest. Fan-fucking-tastic. The scratch needed cleaning and antiseptic, which meant a stop at the nearest convenience store with a bathroom. Nothing like scaring some gas station clerks first thing in the morning.

At least gas stations had coffee.

Fresh air breathed through the broken window, washing the smell of fear and blood out of the van. She took in as much as she could.

She needed to go, but she wasn’t sure where, and going never got her very far without a destination. Her pockets had bottoms, and she’d hit the seams fast if she didn’t budget gas money.

Where should she head? What did she need?

Out of sight, Jeff softly grasped her left ankle. He hadn’t been so clingy in ages, and she wondered what the little nightmare knew that she didn’t. It wasn’t like he was a great conversationalist. Their talks took creative shortcuts – yes/no taps, Morse code, even a Ouija board once or twice – but they still chewed up time she wasn’t sure she had, and even when well-equipped, Jeff wasn’t chatty. He couldn’t help her work through this chaos.

Oh.

And there was her answer.

Help.

People.

She needed people. Folks to talk with, to lend her an ear and a shoulder to cry on. Someone to distract her, friends who knew her and would keep her safe from rogue nightmares like the Not Deer – maybe even help her pick apart her feelings over the star-eyed Endless and his… attention.

People. Friends. Plural.

Checking the date on her phone, she did some quick math and determined where her favorite group of miscreants might be found. Hadn’t they sent her a text? A few weeks ago? She’d been so consumed with the pull across the ocean to the Burgess estate she barely read it. No time or attraction. Now, though – different story.

Destination in mind, she put on her sunglasses to protect her eyes from the inevitable wind through the open window and turned the key. The van grumbled to life. Bouncing over the rough little road she’d called home for a few nights, she smiled to herself. Happy in the moment, alive with a little purpose and a goal to chase, on her way to friendly faces.

Only after speeding an hour down the highway did she realize what felt so off – the pain in her chest had eased.

Next chapter: Link

[aintgonnatakethis]

You've got me wondering about Telford on this beautiful morning. Can I request an infodump on this sumbitch? Bonus points for info that came from your headcanon.

Oh, Jamie, you don't know what you've done... Put beneath a cut because Telford's life story got kinda long 😂 Also will use this as an opportunity to answer the "OC" facts tag from @the-golden-comet (x) Let's take a look at my favourite little fucker: Colonel David Telford!

He was adopted by a high-middle class white couple who wanted the pats on the back they'd get for giving a child of colour a "second chance", but then were severely disappointed when that brown baby grew up to be a brown man... So he grew up *surrounded* by white people, suffering everything from micro-aggressions to full on racism. Below is an excerpt from i am a prisoner just like you, bits of my Vamp AU series I wanted to tell from Telford's POV. This particular bit is a flashback to when he was 18.

Young let out a surprised laugh, slapping Telford good-naturedly on the back. “Fair’s fair.” He had a nice smile, Telford thought, wide and honest. He looked away quickly; there couldn't be any of that shit here. He'd decided that long ago - indulge during high school while continuing to maintain a good upstanding image because that was just what kids did, but he wasn't a kid anymore. The consequences for getting caught here - or even someone getting a whiff of the wrong idea about him - were far more serious than the potential of getting bagged driving out into the desert with another boy. Telford had planned out every excuse and story that could possibly be required. We were just going out here to smoke, sir. No, not marijuana, I can't afford to put that stuff into my body. I'm starting line. I've got a future.

We were planning to bring our girls but they bailed on us. If we had to go home early our parents would know we got ditched. So we came out here to shoot the shit. No, sir, no alcohol. You can check the vehicle. Yes, sir, it's registered to me. It was present for making starting line. I've got a future. We're doing a science project on the state of the plants out here, how they've adapted to the radiation in the soil. No, sir, absolutely no digging. Here, look, this is our collection kit. We have gloves and baggies and permission from our science teacher. His name's Mr. Monroe. No, sir, I'm not really interested in science, but if I want to get into a good college I need the grades. I'm starting line. I've got a future. I've got a future. In your world. Calling you sir. I've got a future. Performing for your amusement. I've got a future. I'm not like those other brown kids, sir. I'm one of the good ones. I'm starting line. I've got a future.

This is the shit I want to see fandom tackle more though I for sure realise how delicately it has to be handled. He's had a really rough time of it and the military doesn't exactly foster a welcoming non-racist environment so I think we should talk about those experiences more. (Fuck that "I know what makes me special" line.)

I couldn't leave Telford completely alone during his childhood so I gave him an Uncle who's a good guy and cares about Telford and wants what's best for him. He was military himself and a recipient of a Purple Heart. He helped Telford's application to join the Air Force Academy straight out of high school. For them to take someone who hasn't already got a college degree you need to tick all the boxes, and Telford is nothing if not stubborn and committed.

He'll do anything to achieve the goals he's set for himself, things others will find downright distasteful and judge him negatively for, but he's a very ends-justify-the-means type of character. If he completes his objective then it doesn't matter what he had to do or who he had to hurt or what he had to give up; it was worth it. He gets constantly frustrated by the people around him being unwilling or unable to go to the same lengths and one of the main reasons he's remained Young's friend for over two decades through all of the bullshit Young pulls is that when the chips are down, Young is also capable of doing terrible things in order to succeed.

They meet in the Air Force Academy (this specific bit isn't mine - one of Telford or Young's actors mentioned it in passing in an interview) and were assigned as 'battle buddies' during Basic which is a real life thing where you don't let the other person out of your sight - drills, meals, bathroom breaks, everything - as a training exercise to teach new recruits to always be aware of where their allies are, in preparation for firefights where everything's moving at 100mph.

Young figures Telford doesn't get along with his parents so invites him home with him for the holidays and Young's family - who are very normal and well-adjusted (no sarcasm) - pretty much adopts him, giving him the first safe place away from the military he's known since his Uncle. I wrote a short story about the first time Telford goes there called Discretion, which turned out a lot gayer than I originally intended but Telford is super gay so I guess it worked out. 🤷‍♂️ (Side note: I like writing characters with different sexualities as a writing exercise - getting them to the point where no matter how different they are they're all still in character. I've written Telford as gay - accepting of himself and in denial - straight, bi, asexual, and aromantic.)

Two snippets from my Vamp AU, both from Young's POV on the topic of Telford's parents.

down here they call us animals - Chapter 10: 1x15 Lost

The man's gaze went flat and cold so quickly it was like having the ground ripped from beneath Young's feet. He'd seen that look on his friend's face before, at his Uncle's funeral when he'd been forced by social decorum to approach his parents. Young had stuck resolutely to the man's side, unsure of what was going on but knowing he didn't like the ugly twist on Telford's parent's faces. Maybe they'd known their son liked men, it suddenly occurred to him. It took the wind out of his sails, the fact that he was threatening to out his best friend crashing down on him. Someone had done that to Camile, he remembered. There was no excuse for it.

your eyes, black like an animal - Chapter 6: 2x06 Trial And Error

Young nodded, thinking of the disgusted edge in David's parent's eyes when he'd met them at his friend's Uncle's funeral, how the father had tried to direct Young away from David's side with his eyes. They'd wanted to be alone with their son, but even Young could tell there was something not quite right with these people, so he had played dumb and bet that they wouldn't go so far as to verbalise their wish. He'd been right and he and David hadn't gone to the wake, preferring to stake out a bar with his Uncle's war buddies. A proper and right celebration he would have been proud of, one of the old men had said, raising his glass, clearly suggesting whatever the parents were getting up to right about now was the opposite. If David had wanted to talk about it he would have raised the subject and Young knew better than to press. Some things were best left buried.

I don't know whether they know he's gay or just don't like him for the previously discussed racial reasons, but a line I've got in my notes is his father saying the military was the best place he could have ended up, and he does not mean it positively.

Due in no small part to his childhood Telford has a hard time bonding with people. Young got in there at just the right time (Telford was 18 and Young was 22) plus they were basically forced to spend time together at the start. Young helped him with the team building exercises and Telford helped Young with the maths they both needed to learn in order to be pilots. (Something I think both the show and fandom overlook is that to be a pilot in the Air Force you need a lot of mathematical knowledge.) Telford's minor at the Academy was languages; it's his belief that every soldier should speak the language of wherever they're stationed, purely for the practical purpose of people will say just about anything around you if they think you can't understand them. He can speak, read, and understand English, Spanish, German, Russian, Arabic, Goa'uld, and Ancient.

He's gay and aromantic and spent a lot of his time at the SGC getting in the good graces of the geeks who work there as he knows they're the future of the programme. He's popular with them because a lot of the military don't respect the geeks no matter what and Telford treats them with respect unless they do something stupid. As there are scientists rotating in and out from Area 51 all the time the labs are also a good place to find people to have sex with, who he's very clear with about not wanting a relationship. I don't think he'd risk pursuing men sadly, though he would be publicly sleeping with women anyway so no one gets any funny ideas about him. And he enjoys the sexual release well enough so it's not a 100% depressing scenario.

When he imagines being in a relationship he feels ill. The expectation of marriage, two kids and a dog with a white picket fence? Nah, no American Dream™ for him, thank you very much. He likes having his own private space to come home to, and Young is the only person he'll allow within his bubble. Sometimes Young's friends are permitted by proxy, but for the most part he's an extremely private person.

He certainly hasn't escaped the toxic masculinity trap either. Whenever I have him having sex with Rush there's always an aspect of Telford believing he now in some form owns the man. That ties into him viewing both himself and everyone else as primarily commodities, a position both he and Rush are used to and therefore are very comfortable occupying. His body is a tool and he recognises the same viewpoint in Rush, which is why he's drawn to him so strongly. He certainly still respects him - there's a point in the series where something bad happens and people are trying to tell him no one could have predicted it and he's instantly like: "You saying Rush didn't see it coming?" I don't think viewing someone as a person and viewing them as a commodity are mutually exclusive.

[pillow-anime-talk]

relationship with the akashi brothers.

request: hiiiiii can i please request? so... uh i love akashi and i’ve always wondered what if his two personalities were twins? and they had one s/o? this can be anything you like; hcs, one shot, i don’t mind! some ideas could be like their dynamic, the relationship between brothers and how s/o handles it, the difference between personalities of the twins and their own relationship with s/o? if you wanted to add a little nsfw you can as well- really anything you want... thank youuuuu so much 💖💖💖

# tags: headcanon; current polygamous relationship (m/gn/m); romance; also smut; aged up; jealousy; sfw & nsfw

warnings: mention of sex and sexual activities, vanilla or kinky sex, multiple orgasm, high libido, pet or slutty names

includes: gender neutral reader ft. seijuurou akashi & oc!twin {knb}

→ sfw ←

↘ I think the calmer and friendlier twin was the one who met you first. Perhaps you were in the same class in high school, or perhaps he met you at one of his piano concerts, slowly moving into a more romantic relation with you. The relationship with Seijuurou was really great, and he treated you as his greatest treasure.

↘ When one day he decided to bring you to his house to meet his older twin brother and father, he was a bit stressed, but finally Mr. Akashi liked you very much and said that you can come to them more often. He even offered you and his son a trip to Paris to tighten your relationship, but you only blushed and thanked him for the offer, refusing. However, you promised that you would gladly accept the tickets, but as soon as the next vacation comes – now you would like to focus on your studies, and this impressed the man very much.

↘ The elder twin watched you the whole time during dinner. It was obvious that you were attractive, extremely kind, and also modest, intelligent and full of undiscovered secrets. You caught his eye very much and occupied his thoughts until the end of the evening and then for the next few days.

↘ The father always told his sons to share everything they have because they are brothers and twins too, so Ichirou decided that his little brother would share you as well.

↘ The older twin had a completely different personality than your boyfriend; he was short-tempered, sarcastic, self-confident, played basketball and captained the team, hence his desire to be the most important. He easily made the decision to talk to Seijuurou, who had no choice but to agree.

↘ At first you were angry with your boyfriend. Then sad that he handed you over to his sibling so easily, but then you got used to the fact that you had not one, but two partners who took care of you in different ways.

↘ While Seijuurou gave you flowers, took you to the cinema and on trips to the zoo, his brother, Ichirou, bought you expensive handbags, took you to exclusive restaurants and on private yacht trips. The younger twin loved to give you light kisses and hold your hand, while the other always hugged your waist and touched your ass.

↘ Over time you got used to their extremes and started to live as if you had one boyfriend with two very different personalities.

→ nsfw ←

↘ In bed it was very similar. These two really were their own opposites.

↘ Seijuurou always acted like a romantic – he lit candles, he loved simple sex in bed or on a chair, he loved to touch and kiss you, appreciate your body and call you ‘smol flower’, ‘my princess’ or ‘pretty butterfly’.

↘ He was slow and took his time, wanting to look at every inch of your beautiful body. Sex with him was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

↘ He always put you first, carefully attending to your body and requests; Did you want to be on top? Here you go. Want him to hold your hands? No problem. Wanted to have sex in the shower? Then he wanted it too.

↘ Seijuurou was the boy that every girl sincerely wanted.

↘ Ichirou was... different. The very way his body language and facial expression suggested that this would not be romantic sexual intercourse in flower petals or over a glass of wine.

↘ Sex with him was fast, hard, and usually full of extras like toys, ropes, blindfolds and handcuffs. He was also not afraid to use a few rude words in your direction like ‘cumslut’, ‘fuckdoll’ or ‘little whore’.

↘ He just likes to have power over you and likes to watch your body die more and more longing for the touch of his hand or mouth.

↘ He wasn’t gentle, always moving his hips hard, giving you a completely different kind of pleasure than his younger brother. Ichirou pulled your hair, ruined your makeup. And he always gave you long, multiple orgasms, interspersed with your crying.

[buckysgrace]

3. Passionate As Sin

Part three to Every Little Thing! :)

Gator Tillman x oc

“What are we doing?” Daphne questioned as she walked leaned against the counter, trying to figure out why everyone was bustling about. She’d overslept a lot longer than she’d meant to, but she’d been up in the early hours of the morning thinking of Gator. Her fingers didn’t feel the same, didn’t hit the right spots that he did. She felt guilty, but it was like she couldn’t stop. 

“Fish fry,” Noelle said as she wrinkled her nose up, apparently still not keen about meat, “They caught a lot of fish yesterday.” She said as she shook her head, looking irritated suddenly. Daphne paused, glancing at the phone that was resting at the end of the counter. 

“Are we doing it here?” Daphne asked in confusion, feeling an itch growing in her fingers as she inched her way closer to the discarded phone. She was too embarrassed to ask anyone for what she needed, knowing that it would bring up an assortment of questions and a ton of teasing. 

“Tillman’s,” Noelle answered simply, “What color am I wearing for your wedding again?” She asked offhandedly as she put her kindle down on the table. Daphne glanced away from the phone, surprised at the sudden question. 

“Green,” Daphne said softly, “I think. I don’t know, I'm still trying to figure it out.” She admitted truthfully, feeling like nothing in her wedding was set in stone other than the date. Every time she thought about the wedding she was filled with dread, but she just continued to procrastinate. Hugh didn’t seem to care either. She wondered how badly he wanted this wedding, supposing that he had to care a little bit as he had proposed. They hadn’t even discussed marriage before he popped the question.

“I can tell,” Noelle said slowly, pointedly as her lips curled into an amused grin, “I don’t suppose there’s a reason for that?” She asked slowly, fishing for information just like everyone else. Daphne remained stoic as she gave her sister a slow blink.

“No other reason than my terrible habit of putting everything off at the last minute.” She mumbled, thinking that her procrastinating was fairly bad. Nobody even seemed too surprised at her lie, as forgetting to tell everyone that she had a trip coming up was something that she really would do. 

She waited until Noelle left the room, before she gripped her their mothers phone and quickly unlocked it. It was always the same. 10455, the month that each of her kids were born. She leaned against the counter as she scrolled through Ruby’s contacts, sighing at the messy way none of them were sorted by names. She had an unhealthy obsession with emojis. 

She finally found the one with the alligators, her heart beating rapidly as she clicked on it. She breathed out softly, a small smile creeping onto her lips as she realized Gator had never changed his number. She wondered if there was a reason, or if it was just out of habit.

She quickly typed it into her phone, her heart beat vibrating against her insides before she discreetly pocketed her phone again. There was nothing wrong with what she’d done. Her and Gator were friends, she was allowed to have his number. 

She took a long second, debating with herself before she finally found the courage to type him out a short message. She shook her head before she deleted it, biting down on her thumb before she started again. 

Hi

She sighed, dropping her head into her hands as she couldn’t understand why this had to be so hard. She knew Gator most of her life, she didn’t want to feel so awkward around him now. Even if there could be something else hidden deep down. She shook that thought away, knowing there wasn’t allowed to be anything else hidden. She was with Hugh. 

Did you fix your tags yet?

She smiled as she read the message on her screen, her heart skipping roughly inside of her chest as her eyes scanned over the message a few times. It was simple, but it still made her giddy.

She put her phone away, chewing on her bottom lip before she headed upstairs to the bathroom she shared with Noelle. She turned the shower on, waiting for it to get hot as she planned on looking her nicest tonight. She wasn’t necessarily doing it for Gator, she was allowed to look nice if she was seeing people she hadn’t seen for a while.

She scrubbed herself clean, the shame growing smaller and smaller as she thought more about looking nice than removing the scent of Gator from her skin. She hated how badly she wanted to taste his tongue against hers again, how she wanted to breathe in the bay rum that he sprayed over his body.

She wrapped her hair up in one towel, using the other to cover her body before she headed up towards her room. Her feet slightly slipped against the wooden floors, still wet from stepping out of the shower. 

She pulled out one of her new skirts, a neat white that was covered in light purple flowers and ended underneath her knees. She figured she’d need something to hide the bruises from last night. She pulled out a white sleeveless shirt. It dipped down just enough and left her abdomen slightly exposed. She figured Bruce would be a little opposed to the style, but she was a grown woman now. She sat both down on the bed before she removed her towels and began to brush through her hair. The bottom of her hair was always a little bit more difficult to brush through, due to the bleach. 

Daphne paused as she let her partially damp hair rest on her shoulders. She looked in the mirror, running her hands through the straight strands until it was positioned in a way she liked. She thought for another second before she opened the piece of paper that had the stickers for her license plates.

She hoped she wouldn’t ruin the sticky adhesive, but she took the risk as she peeled the green stickers off and placed them over her hardened nipples. She could feel her cheeks burning as the scandalous feeling filled her. 

She gripped her phone as she stood in front of the mirror, trying out a few different poses until she found one that she was happy with. She inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the nerves that had settled over her as she took the picture.

She attached the picture, staring at it one last time as she tried to make sense of her actions. She couldn’t believe herself, felt disgusted at the way her body trembled as she wondered how Gator would react once he saw it.

Just have to attach them ;)

//////////////////

“This is very strange.” Hugh mumbled to her in the backseat. She turned towards him curiously, wiggling her boots back onto her feet as the ranch came into view. 

“What?” She asked him curiously, trying to gain sense of what he was speaking about. She had left her phone behind at the house, shut down as she was too nervous to even see how Gator had responded to her message. 

“That you claim these Tillman’s live so close, yet you have to drive there to get to their house.” He said in confusion as he glanced out the window. She looked at the little scar that was forming on his cheek, feeling bad that he had gotten snagged in such a way. 

“It’s a hefty walk.” She agreed slowly, hiding the fact that Gator used to make trips at night to see her. She clasped her fingers over her lap as she rested her hands over her abdomen. She could feel her stomach twisting with nerves, hoping that she didn’t see Gator but then also praying that he would be there at the same time. 

“America is odd.” Hugh decided at last, whispering a little softer so Bruce wouldn’t hear him from the front seat. Daphne laughed softly as she gave his hand a soft squeeze. She waited to feel some sort of spark, some sort of jolt. She felt nothing.

She peered out the window, watching the way the smoke was pouring into the air from behind the house. She chewed on her bottom lip, feeling a little anxious as they pulled into the driveway. She couldn’t tell if the vast amount of people were good or bad. Perhaps it would be easier to disappear with Gator.

She shook that thought away, reminding herself that she shouldn’t imagine those scenarios. Especially with Hugh sitting so close to her. She unbuckled her seatbelt, lingering for just a second before she pushed the door open and hopped out.

It was still early as she settled into the house with Hugh, following behind her parents as her palms grew sweatier and sweatier. She felt on edge, kept expecting to see Gator peeking around each corner as she helped set things up in the kitchen.

Hours passed before people finally began to arrive, the sun slowly lowering so the air wasn’t so hot and unbearable. She still lingered in the cool house, hoping that she may eventually see Gator emerging from his room until she realized there was no point in waiting. 

She felt like she was getting passed back and forth again, recounting her engagement story and showing off the ring that Hugh had bought for her. She was growing tired of saying the same thing over again, of smiling too tightly and acting like it was a great thing. She feared that everyone could see right through her. 

She couldn’t imagine how she’d handle her actual engagement party. She didn’t want one, but Bruce insisted on doing so. It didn’t seem necessary in her opinion, but Bruce had sent her a look that kept her from saying anything else. 

She glanced around, watching as people conversed as she fell into her own little world. She felt like an outsider for the first time, but that was her own fault. She didn’t know them the way that she used to. She’d left, she’d changed and so had everyone else. 

She stood on her tippy toes, rocking in her boots softly as she tried to search for the familiar face she was hunting for. She felt disappointed, not seeing the pair of brown eyes that she was desperate to catch. She figured that maybe he was working, that he wouldn’t be here at all. Perhaps that was for the best. 

“You know,” Daphne said softly as she looked at the twin girls in front of her, “I’m a twin too. That’s my brother.” She said sweetly as she pointed over towards Oliver who was entertaining Hugh with something funny he’d said. All of her siblings had the same features, except for August who favored their father. Many times when they were younger, Noelle was mistaken for a triplet for how much smaller she was at the time. 

“Ollie.” Maude spoke up slowly, still looking shy as she held one of her shoulders up to her cheek. Daphne grinned at her, still shocked at how big they had grown in the past few years. She thought of how Gator had been less than pleased to find out he would no longer be an only child, but slowly grew to like it. She wondered how he acted around them now. 

“Mhm,” Daphne said as she nodded her head, “I used to babysit you both when you were really little.” She told them quickly, thinking of the rare nights that Roy would take Karen out. She liked those nights, however. Usually she was allowed to spend the night in one of the guest rooms, even though she’d find herself in Gator’s bed a few hours later. 

“You did?” Maude looked at her with wide eyes, her lips parting like she couldn’t believe what Daphne was saying. Daphne suddenly wished she had pictures to prove that she had known them for a long, long time. 

“Well I’m going to need some flower girls,” Daphne said playfully as she looked between Jessica and Maude, “Do you know anyone who might want to do it?” She asked them, feigning a serious look as she knitted her eyebrows together. She tapped her finger against her chin, pretending to be deep in thought. 

“Yeah!” Maude spoke up as she twisted her dress back and forth. She brought her thumb up to her mouth, looking at Daphne shyly before she turned away again. “Oh you do?” She questioned them teasingly, “Who?” She asked as she bent over to meet them at eye level. Both of the twins giggled before they looked back at one another. She thought of the way her and Oliver used to look at each other in a similar manner, like they could speak their own language. 

“Me and Maude,” Jessica giggled as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, “I like flowers.” She said with a nod of her head, like she was trying to convince Daphne that it should be them. 

“Oh my,” Daphne grinned as she looked between the two of them again, “I’m so glad that I found you then.” She told them excitedly, happy that she was getting somewhere with the twins. She had been so excited when they were born. She’d always wanted a baby brother or sister.

“You want two flower girls?” Hugh asked her a few minutes later, once the twins had gripped each other’s hands and raced away. She nodded her head, thinking it would be cute to watch the two of them skip down the aisle. 

“Yes,” Daphne said softly, “I can’t ask just one.” She told him quickly, furrowing her eyebrows as she looked at Hugh seriously. She had shared a flower girl position with Noelle once at their uncle's second marriage. 

“Just pick your favorite.” Hugh said, shrugging his shoulders like it was easy. She looked at him stunned, about to tell him how horrible that was when she noticed the grin that was forming on his lips. She shook her head a second later, unsure of how she fell for his trick. 

“Hugh,” She pushed at his arm, her eyes wide as she hooked at him in disbelief, “That’s horrible.” She said, joining in with his laughter. It hit her like a punch, the comfortable feeling that reminded her of why she had picked him in the first place. She could feel her gut twisting so tightly in guilt that she felt like it was hard to breathe. 

She excused herself a minute later, walking inside of the quiet house as she tried to stall her nerves from becoming too much. Her throat was burning, raw as she tried to take a deep breath. She was beginning to regret the picture she sent, wondering if there was some magic way to unsend it before he saw it.

She found the desire to scrub her hands in the sink, hoping somehow that the soap and burning water would wash away the fresh guilt that was settling inside of her. She patted them dry a second later, staring at the ring that occupied her finger. She twisted it around softly, feeling like she’d lost part of herself. 

“That was a nice picture you took earlier,” Gator mumbled as he stepped behind her, pressing his large hands against her waist as he inhaled deeply, “You looked sexy.” He whispered as he bit down on her earlobe.

“Don’t you policemen need proof?” She questioned him softly, teasing him as she tried to play off her own actions. Her body felt warm, but she was unsure if that had to do with how close he was to her or with how her own lust filled her body. 

“I don’t think you sent it for proof.” He replied as he gave her flesh a soft squeeze. She chewed on her bottom lip, feeling a soft sigh leave her lips as his hands traveled further up her body. He brought his lips down against the curve of her neck, dragging his lips slowly as he breathed in the scent of her. 

“Gator, we can’t right now,” She told him briskly, whispering in case anyone was lingering around, “Someone could see.” She replied weakly as he cupped his hands over her boobs and gave her a soft squeeze. She sighed, resting against his body as his teeth grazed over her neck. 

“Is that bad or something?” He chuckled against her skin, peppering soft kisses up to her cheek again. She closed her eyes softly, soaking against his warmth for another second before she was pushing him away. 

“I’m getting married.” She reminded him softly as she tried to find the strength to drop his hands completely. She paused, admiring how long and nimble his fingers were as she situated their palms together. 

“But you’re not married yet.” He shot back, his eyebrows slightly cocked as he gazed for her reaction. She sighed softly as she shook her head, wishing his words could be that simple. “What’s that got to do with anything?” She asked him seriously, knowing that she was supposed to be loyal while she was in a relationship with someone regardless if she had a ring or not. His lips curled up softly, looking at her in amusement. 

He took another step forward, dropping her hands as he took a hold of her waist again. She felt her breath stall in her chest, freezing as she admired the warmth that radiated off of him. She had a strong urge to fall to her knees again. 

“It’s not a crime then,” He replied gently as he rubbed his fingers up and down her slender curves, “You haven’t signed your life away yet.” He said a second later, smirking as he looked quite proud of his statement. 

“I can’t just-,” She paused for a second, ensuring no one was around as she spoke up quietly, “I can’t cheat on him.” She said quickly, feeling a burning sensation traveling through her body. She puffed out her cheeks softly, feeling ashamed as she admitted what they had done out loud. 

“You already have.” He cocked an eyebrow, his eyes traveling over her features in enjoyment as if he really thought that she had forgotten that. She breathed in deeply through her nostrils, shaking her head as she felt her jittery nerves rising. 

“I can’t do it again.” She replied back, her cheeks burning as she knew how hypocritical she sounded right now. She felt like she was in a constant state of being awake and then asleep. It was hard. She liked dreaming of Gator and what they could’ve been. 

“You didn’t miss me?” He asked simply, looking like he really wasn’t sure about what her answer would be. She paused, in complete disbelief that he would even question such a thing. She had missed him more than the stars missed the moon when the sun was out. 

“I missed you,” She said softly with a nod of her head, “But we were just friends. Remember?” She reminded him softly, wondering if he was picking up on his words that she was throwing back at him. He tilted his head, a smile creeping onto his lips. 

“Doesn’t feel like it,” He replied huskily, “You keep ignoring me for some reason. You worried about something?” He questioned her, digging around a little deeper. She raised her eyebrows at him, her fingers lightly beginning to tap against her thighs. 

“What would I be worried about?” She challenged him, sticking her chin up a bit to get a better look at him. His eyebrows raised with hers, a soft chuckle leaving his lips before he shook his head. He tapped the bottom of his first against the counter, like he was trying to think of the right way to phrase his answer. 

“I don’t know,” He puckered his lips out as he spoke, “Maybe this guy isn’t who you thought you wanted.” She stared at him for a moment, her eyes tracing over the marks on his face. She felt her walls lowering a bit, knowing that Hugh really wasn’t the one that she pictured marrying. But he cared for her, he wanted to marry her. That was the difference between him and Gator. 

“You’re ridiculous,” She said quickly, shaking away reminiscence that may have lingered in her features, “Stop bringing him up.” She replied softly, feeling like she should defend Hugh. He was kind. He hadn’t done anything bad to her, ever. 

“Why?” He took a step closer, his eyes flickering over her features slowly, “You didn’t seem to care about him when you sent that picture.” He pointed out as he brought his fingers against her midriff. She felt her breath catch in her throat as warmth spread through her body. She chewed on her bottom lip, ignoring the goosebumps that formed as he traced his finger around her belly button. 

“Maybe I was just testing you,” She responded slowly, her eyes latched to his lips as he slowly exhaled, “Trying to see if you were a gentleman or not.” She shrugged her shoulders softly, trying to build the restraint to pull away from him. 

He moved even closer, stealing the air from her lungs as he inhaled deeply. She could feel her heart racing inside of her chest, beating to his same rhythm as the air between them grew hot. She flicked her eyes across his warm brown eyes, then slowly trailed them down to his pink lips. She stared for a moment, opening her mouth to find some sort of protest.

He dipped his head down further, hesitating like he was waiting for her to push him away. She tilted her mouth up just as eagerly, her fingertips twitching as she desperately wanted to wrap her arms around his shoulders. 

She inhaled the smell of watermelon on his tongue, hoping that she’d taste it against her mouth. She felt her eyes flutter shut as his bottom lip dragged against her mouth slowly. She moved her lips in response, savoring the slow way their mouths met. 

He kissed her passionately, roughly as he pressed her up against the counter. She gripped him just as tightly as he hiked up one of her legs and pressed up against him. She felt like horny teenagers again, sneaking around and kissing whenever they could.

He rutted his hips into hers slowly, drawing a moan from her mouth as she gripped a hold of his shoulders tightly. His tongue dipped into her mouth, licking away the pleasant melodies as he pulled her closer. 

She dug her fingertips into her skin, not caring at the way her lungs were burning as she rubbed her tongue against his. He licked languidly at her mouth, his large hands cupping her ass as she pressed up against him more frantically. She pulled at the loops of his jeans, fully intent on letting him take her on the hard kitchen tiles. 

“Gator?” Daphne panicked, pushing him away quickly. She could feel how wide her eyes were as the panic spread through her. Jessica walked into the room, a gleeful smile on her face as she approached, “You said you’d bounce us on the trampoline.” She pouted her lips out as she gripped his hand, oblivious between what had happened between the two adults. 

“Not now,” He said quickly as he glanced back towards Daphne. She busied herself in the fridge, pretending to find something, “I’m busy.” He said a second later, trying to gently shoo her away. 

“But you promised,” She whined as she tugged on his hand, “You can’t break a promise!” She squeaked out, looking like she was horrified by Gator's answer. Daphne paused as she scanned the full shelves, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. 

“You shouldn’t break your promises,” Daphne said softly as she pulled a can of Coke from the fridge, “You’ll make a habit of it.” She responded slowly, catching his eye for a moment. She wondered if he was thinking of the same thing as she passed him, heading back towards Hugh.

She felt Gator’s eyes on her the rest of the night as she tried to busy herself by settling next to Hugh. She tried to pay attention to his stories, to keep him up to date on the family gossip but her mind kept wandering. She knew she had started digging herself into a deeper hole. She was beginning to sink deeper, unable to tell the difference from the top and the bottom. 

“Daphne, look,” Maude giggled as she threw fistfuls of grass onto the ground, “It’s like what a flower girl does!” She exclaimed happily before she threw another fistful into the air. Daphne crossed her legs on the picnic table she sat situated on, her heart beating roughly as Gator approached with the twins.

All of them had slightly reddened cheeks, their hair disheveled and slightly static from rolling around the trampoline one too many times. She pulled her fist up to her cheek, hiding her smile as Gator lazily placed one of his legs through the bench. He paused before he pulled Jessica up, letting her rest on his lap before he passed his can of Mountain Dew to her. 

“You’re already so good at it,” Daphne gushed, turning her attention away from Gator before she could meet his eye again, “We’ll have to pick out a pretty dress together.” She told Maude, a little excited as she took a hold of Daphne’s hand, bearing a bright smile.  

“I wanna be a cake girl,” Jessica declared as she pressed her finger against Gator’s nose, pushing it hard until he pulled away, “I can throw cake.” She giggled as she leaned against him, clearly in awe of her older brother. Gator shook his head, but his eyes sparked amusement like Jessica had given him some sort of idea.

“Mhm, what kind of cake?” Daphne asked, “We need suggestions.” She asked as she crossed her arms over the table. She let her eyes draw back towards Gator, her heart thumping harshly in her chest as she watched the careful way he pulled Jessica’s hair out of her eyes. 

“I think we should have a peanut butter cake,” Hugh said lightly. Gator wrinkled his eyebrows together as he snorted, shaking his head, “What?” He looked over offended, like he was angry with the way Gator was treating him. Daphne shifted in the wooden chair, trying to decide the best way to handle the situation. 

“Daphne hates peanut butter.” Gator replied quickly as he pointed towards Daphne, motioning to the way her nose was curled up in distaste. She quickly shook her head, trying to rid her features of any evidence of her being against it. 

“I don’t hate it,” She said softly so she wouldn’t hurt Hugh’s feelings, although she knew for certain she had mentioned it more than once, “I just don’t care for it.” She said as she shrugged her shoulders, trying to make it as casual as she could. 

“You’re allergic to peanuts.” Gator replied dryly as he pulled his drink up to his lips. He held eye contact with her, like he was daring her to say otherwise. She let out a nervous laugh, glancing towards Hugh’s wide eyes as she tried to talk control of the situation again.

“Yeah, but sometimes it’s worth a trip to the hospital,” She said as she scratched the back of her neck, “Gator likes to draw too. He does really well.” She said a second later, trying to build a connection between the two guys. Their art styles were vastly different, however. Hugh used bright oils that settled into a happier picture. Gator’s were darker, usually sketches that were always done in black and white.

“Yeah?” Gator asked, sounding a little bored as he tilted his head away so the twins couldn’t reach his vape, “I heard you do that more for a job than a hobby.” He replied, grabbing both of the twins hands with his one so he could take a hit from his vape. Daphne breathed in softly, enjoying the watermelon taste that floated over towards her. 

“I do what I love.” Hugh said simply, his eyes narrowing softly as he watched Gator. Daphne paused as she glanced between the two of them, hoping that she hadn’t made the situation worse. She didn’t necessarily want them as friends, but figured it would be easier for her if Hugh at least knew him. 

“Right,” Gator said slowly, “I’m afraid you won’t find many jobs for that around here.” He said as he pocketed his vape again, giving each of the girls a stern look as they tried to reach into his pocket. 

“There’s not much out here at all.” Hugh replied, his eyebrows raised softly as he looked forward unimpressed. She breathed out of her nose, trying to not get irritated. She knew that Hugh wasn’t used to being somewhere so small, so spacious. But she loved her hometown. He had been the one to ultimately decide that they should move back anyways. 

“You’ll get used to it,” Daphne smiled as she squeezed his bicep, “It won’t take that long.” She reassured him as she nodded her head, glancing back towards where Gator was watching her. She drank in his deep brown eyes, noting the golden halo they gave out as the sunlight dipped against him. She rubbed her palms against her thighs, wondering if his stomach flipped the same way hers did when he looked at her. 

She doubted it. She tried not to think about how she already knew what he thought about her. It was the reason they were so distant now, why she was worried to let him back into her life. She knew it wasn’t smart to start fooling around with him again, but he was like a drug. She couldn’t give him up, no matter how hard she tried. 

She distracted herself back into the kitchen a little later, feeling the need to get away from everyone else as she kept beating herself up over her own thoughts. She knew she was being dumb, being irrational. She just couldn’t keep her mind from racing, her heart from aching. 

She was still left with the memory of his skin against her own, the way his lips would brush against the crook of her neck and how he’d whisper the most filthy things into her ear as he rutted his long fingers into her. She breathed in deeply, feeling a rush pouring in between her legs. 

“What did you bring back for me?” Gator asked, looking at her curiously as she bit into her blackened marshmallow. She paused, quickly licking the stickiness from her lips and swallowed quickly. She winced, furrowing her eyebrows together as the food hit her stomach hard. She looked towards him, forcing up a smile. 

“I didn’t,” She said at last, “I figured you wouldn’t be interested in anything I brought back.” She admitted a second later. It wasn’t necessarily the truth. She hadn’t really sought out gifts to bring back to him. At first, she had been too bitter and angry. Once those feelings had chipped away she was too hurt, no longer wanting to make her heart ache anymore. 

“Well you’re wrong,” He replied back as he leaned against the counter, “There’s one thing I want.” He drew out slowly as his eyes flickered across her features. She stalled for a moment, her heart racing roughly in her chest as she tried to remind herself that he had probably said this to plenty of women. 

“Marshmallow?” She asked softly, offering it out to him instead of asking him what he wanted. She feared that if he flirted with her in just the right way she’d give up everything again. His features knitted up in confusion as he glanced down at the marshmallow, then back up to her.

He took it from her, quickly discarding it in the sink to her surprise. She opened her mouth to protest, to shout about how she’d finally gotten her marshmallow to the perfect consistency when he brought her gooey covered fingers up to his lips. 

He licked it away from her fingers, swirling his tongue between her digits as he sucked away the sticky white material. She gulped, pressing down on his tongue softly as he wrapped his long fingers around her wrist. He moved his warm eyes down towards her, holding eye contact as he slowly dragged his tongue across her fingers.

He released her then, a light trail of spit connecting between his lips and her fingertips as she tried to find the courage to breathe. His eyes felt too warm, too intense as she felt a rush forming between her legs. 

“Ya know,” He leaned forward, looking quite smug at her reaction, “If you keep your window open tonight, I might just pay you a visit.” He suggested slyly. She parted her lips as a flush spread over her body. She was tempted, itching to take up his offer. She wasn’t sure that she could face the repercussions of what would happen next. 

She leaned in a little closer, examining the flush that spread over his cheeks as she spoke lowly, “Goodnight, Gator.” She denied him softly, enjoying the sweet scent that rolled off of his tongue before she slowly pulled away. She gave his wrist a light squeeze, smiling breezily as she left him on his own. 

[eyes-of-rock]

Gambling With The Heart

Chapter Two

Eric Singer X OC

A/N: I would love to have linked that first chapter, but Tumblr is being a dick, so that it won't let me. Anyway, please enjoy the second chapter of this series.

Eric’s POV

I'm still not sure how that worked for me. I figured there was no way anyone that pretty and young would entertain a conversation with me. I'm not twenty-five anymore and haven't been for a long time. I have to be three times her age.

Then I fumbled, starting that conversation pretty bad. I pointed out the watch as a last resort because I couldn't think of anything else to say. I figured it must have had some kind of story. Not every day do you see a nice watch like that on the wrist of a girl like her. It’s a Tag Heuer Carrera chronograph, in black with rose gold. It’s a sexy watch, and it looks good on her wrist.

The first thing that came to mind was that her rich boyfriend had bought it for her. She'd tell me that, and I’d return to the table and say I told you so. Only that didn't happen, and the story was much more interesting.

It turns out that she won it in a poker game and had no idea that it was worth around $10,000.

Not every day you meet a beautiful woman who won a watch in a poker game and is from Canada.

Vegas has its fair share of characters, but I've never met anyone who's caught me off guard that much. I sure wasn't expecting that when I walked up to her.

I also wasn't expecting her actually to agree to see me again. She is new to town and doesn't know anyone; that could be why she said yes, but even if it is, I'll take it. I was sure I would get shot down, but she said yes and now I have her number.

I sound like a teenager, not a sixty-six-year-old man. Teenage Eric wasn't pulling girls that hot, though. He barely pulled any. I guess that's what teenage me and sixty-six-year-old me have in common. I figured I'd be married by now. Life had other plans.

I picked up the piece of paper with her number written on it. She signed it with her name. Jewel. Next to it, she put a little diamond. It's a cute touch. I wonder if that's her favourite card suit? I'll have to ask her.

She hasn't left my mind since I met her earlier. It’s been a while since I met anyone who did that to me. I want to call her. I don't want to come on too strong, though I don't want to come off as uninterested. I'm interested. I don't know if she's interested in me, but I hope she is. Jewel agreed to see me again, so that has to be a good sign, right?

“What do you think, buddy?” I ask, looking at Ash, who just jumped on my lap.

“Should I call her?”

I give him a scratch behind the ear, and he makes a little noise. I'll take that as a yes, even if it was probably because I gave him a scratch.

I take my glasses off my cluttered coffee table and put them on to see the phone screen. The print on these things is so small. Then I dial her number from the piece of paper. I just hope she picks up.

It rings once. Then again.

“Hello?” I hear her voice answer.

“Hey, Jewel, it’s Eric Singer,” I tell her.

“Oh hey, Eric.” She says, sounding happy to hear from me, which makes me feel good about this decision.

“I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night and if you wanted to go out for dinner.” I shot my shot.

“I’d love to, but I work tomorrow night.” He tells me, sounding disappointed.

“What about tonight?” She suggests, “Unless you already have plans.”

“No, I'm good with tonight,” I say.

The sooner, the better.

I glance at the time on my watch. It's 3:30 now. I should give us time to get ready and for me to find a good place to take her.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” I tell her.

“Okay, sounds great.” She replies, “I’ll send you my address because I can't remember it off the top of my head.”

I laugh at that; we've been there when we moved to a new place and can't remember our address.

“No problem; I'm looking forward to seeing you later.” Fuck it. I might as well be truthful.

“I’m looking forward to it too.” Jewel replies, “I'll see you at seven.”

“See you then,” I say, hanging up the phone.

Well, that worked out better than I could have imagined.

——————————————————

Jewel’s POV

I can't believe I went from alone to hanging out with Eric Singer within 24 hours. It feels unreal. Yet it’s reality. I'm freaking out a bit. I don't want to make a fool of myself in front of him. He’s him, and I'm me. Yet he asked me to go out for dinner. I am now freaking out a little.

I have no idea what to wear. I haven't been out to dinner with anyone in so long. I've never been out to dinner with anyone like Eric before. I also have no idea where he's taking me. I don't want to be overdressed or underdressed.

I also don't want to look like a sugar baby. After all, he is an older man, and I am a younger woman; this is Vegas. He looks great for his age, but that age gap isn't going to disappear. I've seen lots of that. That's far from my intentions here. I could never do that. I'd feel very guilty. I like making my own money.

I sigh.

Whenever I’m freaking out, there is one person I call my sister Victoria. She always knows what to do. Even though I'm unsure if I want to get her involved, I know she’ll help.

I take out my phone and FaceTime with her.

“Oh look, Mark, it's Jewel! My long lost sister!” She answers dramatically, her fiance Mark sitting next to her.

“Nice to see you too, Victoria.” I laugh, rolling my eyes, “How's it going, Mark?”

“You know the usual, how are you doing? How's Vegas?” Mark asks; I love my soon-to-be brother-in-law. He's perfect for Victoria and like a brother to me already.

“Well, that's why I'm calling,” I tell them, “I’m going out to dinner with someone, and I don't know what to wear.”

“Oh, who?” My sister asks, looking intrigued.

“Eric Singer from KISS,” I tell her, awaiting the judgment.

“THE KISS DRUMMER?!” Mark gasps in shock; he's a big fan of KISS.

I love KISS, but not nearly as much as Mark. They are his all-time favourite band, and he has an extensive collection. So I know his sister-in-law met one of them and is going to dinner with one, so I must have him on cloud nine.

“YOU’RE HAVING DINNER WITH THE CATMAN?!”

“Yes.” I can't help but laugh at Mark’s reaction.

“You’ve been in Vegas two weeks and already have a date with a rockstar.” My sister says, looking impressed.

“What does he look like, Mark?” Vic asks as Mark takes out his phone to do a Google search.

“There he is,” Mark says, showing Vic a photo, hopefully a good one of Eric. Not that bad ones exist.

“For someone in his sixties, he looks pretty good,” Victoria says approvingly.

“Look at you pulling rockstars.”

“I wouldn't say I pulled him.” I tell her, “This is just a dinner between two people; I don't know if it's a date.”

“You always do this, Jewel.” Victoria says, “He asked you out; it's a date. Let yourself have this.”

“Fine.” I sigh. Even if I'm not convinced, it's a nice thought. I would be lying if I said I didn't have a bit of a crush on this man.

He was easy to talk to and not pretentious or flaunting who he was; it was like I was talking to any guy. Not the drummer of one of the biggest bands in the world. It was nice.

I'm looking forward to more conversation later. He seems like a fascinating man with lots to say.

“Now, what should I wear?” I ask her to get back on the subject.

“Hmmm.” Victoria debates with herself.

“What about that leather skirt you wore to our engagement party?”

That is a great skirt. It's a vintage leather mini-skirt with a zipper up the front. It might be a little too sexy, though. I don't want to give off a slutty vibe. I don't see him as someone who'd be into that.

“Is it too sexy, though?” I asked, pulling out the skirt and looking it over.

“Jewel, it's the perfect amount of sexy.” Victoria says, “Just wear some tights if you're worried about showing too much legs.”

“Alight, I can do that,” I say, taking out my sheer black tights to go with it.

“Now for a top, how about….” I pause as I dig through my top dresser drawer for a top.

“This?” I asked, pulling out a simple silk tank top.

“Thats perfect.” Victoria smiles, “I’m so happy for you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this happy.”

“Thank you.” I smile back at her, and I am thrilled.

“Speaking of cats,” Mark says, holding up Shadow, my big fluffy black cat.

“Someone wants to say hello.”

“Oh, hello, my baby boy,” I say to my baby voice. I miss that cat so much.

I couldn't take him with me when I moved, so I left him with Mark and Victoria. I was living with them before I moved. He was my cat, but he also loves them. And know for a fact that they spoil him to death. Sometime, once I'm more settled, I’ll get another cat. I miss having one around.

“It’s pretty empty around here without you.” My sister says, sounding sad. I know she misses me, and I miss her too.

“I know, I miss having you guys around too,” I tell her, “Soon you'll be married, and then I'm sure you’ll find a way to fill that empty room.”

“I know, I know.” Victoria says, “But I just miss my little sister.”

“She misses you too.” I do miss them. I don't know if I could have done this without the ability to contact them and see them. Thank god for modern technology.

“But I'm also happy things seem to work well for you.” Victoria continues, “You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Vic.” I smile.

“You know, if this works out, I could have a member of KISS at my wedding.” Mark fanboys, I just sigh and shake my head.

“If this goes well, I never let him meet you.” I tease, “Nothing could scare this man off more than you jizzing your pants over him being in KISS.”

“Hey.” Mark tries to protest.

“Come on, sweetie, she has a point. You are like the biggest fan.” Victoria laughs, and Mark can't argue with that.

“Oh yeah, you’ll freak out over this.”

When I met Eric, I suddenly remembered he was having dinner with Bruce Kulick. So, I also saw Bruce Kulick, who happens to be our favourite KISS guitar player. I know Mark’s going to flip hearing about this.

“Guess who Eric was having dinner with when I met him.”

“Who?” Mark asks excitedly.

“Bruce Kulick,” I tell him.

“So far, you've met two KISS members?!” Mark says absolutely beside himself, “You’re living the dream.”

I just laugh at that.

“Well, I should probably get going,” I tell them, looking at my watch. The watch I now know is worth $10,000, thanks to Eric.

“Okay, you have fun.” Victoria says, “I love you.”

“I love you guys too. Talk to you soon.” I reply before we hang up.

I hope this dinner goes well.

——————————————————

Eric’s POV

I take a deep breath and knock on Jewel’s door. I'm nervous. I have no idea why. I've taken girls out to dinner before. It’s been a while. I will admit that, but it's not like it's the first time. Usually, it ends badly, though. I hope it doesn't end that way with her.

The door opens, and there Jewel stands. She looks gorgeous. She's wearing a short leather skirt that fits her like a glove. She’s also wearing a silky tank top that shows off the right amount of cleavage to drive a guy wild. Keep it together, Eric.

You don't want to be the creepy date staring at her boobs all night, even if they do look good in that top. Enough of that; be respectful. Don't make it awkward.

“Hi.” She smiles when she sees me, grabbing her purse off the table in her entranceway. Hers is a real table, unlike mine, a drum stool.

“You look gorgeous,” I tell her as she steps out and locks her door.

“Thank you.” She smiles sweetly at me, “You look good too.”

Not as good as her.

“Thank you, I tried my best,” I tell her, “Let’s go.”

“Alright, lead the way.” She tells me as I walk back to my car.

Eric, you can't mess one up. I remind myself. This is a rare chance you can't fuck up.