#i'll have his ashes in a few weeks and i have plans to get a tattoo of his pawprint but this is going to be rough for a while

[pastafossa]

Pet loss below the cut.

Cato was my cat. That's the long and short of it.

From the first night I had him when he curled up against my neck to fall asleep with me, to his final night when he curled up on my chest to try and comfort me, there is not a single day I've been home that I haven't had my kitten chow with me. He was my tiny shadow, always trotting along after me or singing at me from around the house with that long Siamese wail or bringing me scores of socks he hid god knows where (although once he brought me an entire umbrella instead, which he was understandably proud of). He was by my pillow every night cuddled up against my arm, and we fit together like two puzzle pieces, like that little crook in my arm was designed for him, for his exact shape and size. He was with me through my health issues, through high school and college, through moving states, through covid, through tears, through the loss of other pets. He was there as I really learned to write, and there is not a single chapter of TRT that was written without his presence for at least a section of it even if it meant I had to stop editing or writing for a bit and just stare at the words instead because he wanted to be held NOW. And he even managed to hold off the cancer just long enough to walk with me through mom's hospital stay and her return home. I was his person, and he was my soul cat, a piece of me.

I was so torn last night. He was clearly in pain, dehydrated, wobbly, confused and restless, and couldn't get to the litter box. It had been really clear this week the moment was coming, that the cancer was going to take him soon. I'd had this big plan, to have it all happen at home in peace. He hated the vet, hated the stress, but it happened so fast, and I just... knew he couldn't wait for the vet's office to open so she could come here. He'd chosen his time and it was now.

I held him at the emergency vet when they gave him the sedative. I managed to choke out that silly singing tone that always made him happy, as I called him every last nickname he knew: my Cato-wato kitten chow, my Cato kins, my little Mr. meow meow, my sweet happy baby kitty. I made sure all he could see with those big beautiful blue eyes of his was me, as I petted his soft little ears and scratched his neck just the way he liked. And he actually managed to purr for me. He purred as he slipped away and the lights went out, and it was the last sound I ever got to hear from him.

I already miss you so, so much, my sweet old kitty, my Cato kitten chow. I'm sorry it couldn't be at home. But thank you for purring for me. Thank you for spending your journey with me. Thank you for the love you gave me. Thank you for the big meows and the headbonks and perching on my shoulder to interrupt with a breaking news story of Meow Meow. Thank you for the stealing of hundreds of my socks over 16 years and the way you always wanted to sit on me regardless of convenience or your own comfort. Thank you for letting me scoop you up for head smoochies, guarding me from nightmares, and solemnly supervising over 150 chapters of TRT. My soul cat, my baby kitty, my lovebug. I will always love and miss you. And one day I'll see you again.

[evieelyzabethh]

Love your work. <3 Could you write something with reader x spike where they're kinda' pining for one another, but one night he gets injured and has to stay over at her house? She patches him up and maybe offers him a bite? Doesn't have to be nsfw but +5 cool points if it is. <3

Hello, my loves, long time no see!!! I hope this is to your liking <3

Spike is so incredibly reckless. You knew this, he knew, everybody knew that Spike was a walking accident waiting to happen'. He likes to think he can handle himself. "I'm bad, baby," he'd tell you, "M' the big bad slayer killer. I can handle a few scratches." But you were never worried about what he could handle, you were worried about the fact that his blood was always staining your couch. That and the fact that his lack of self-preservation kept you up at night.

Usually, he has some decorum. He doesn't come to you with every scrape and bruise, even though you handled him with much more care than he was capable of extending to himself. It was his way of punishing himself, depriving himself of your head scratches and soft hands for bothering you too much. You scolded him for this, of course. It seems like its every other week (more like every other day) when you and he argue, most often in front of the Scoobies who waited anxiously for you take your arguments to the bedroom, about him leaving you to worry about whether or not he was ash.

"I mean, fuck Spike. Is it really that hard to just give me a call if you plan on bleeding at your place. A little 'Hi, yeah, I don't think I need my wounds treated with modern medicine, I'm gonna take my chances with old whisky and tetanus like the good ol' days'." And every time he takes his well-earned lecture with a smirk and a bowed head.

"Yes, mother, next time I'll break your door down at three in the morning for some pretty pink bandages."

"If you were so ashamed of the pretty pink bandages, maybe you should think before you run into knives!"

Spike has maybe told the truth a grand total of two times in his whole life, so his word means absolutely nothing. He continues to ignore your street like the plague unless it's an absolute emergency.

Now was an emergency.

You barely heard the faint knocks on your door from your bedroom, where you sat on your bed, music blasting from your stereo and some reality court show droning on in the background, catching your attention when someone decided to be particularly messy. You had thought it was your neighbors blind dog scratching at your door again until something large and loud hit it. Quickly arming yourself with a frying pan, you crept to your door, tearing it open for a very injured Spike to nearly fall flat on your floor before he caught himself using your doorframe.

His left hand clutched at his bleeding side and he walked with a limp over to his couch which now had a plastic cover. His dead heart was touched.

"Aw, you were waiting for me, " he croaked out. He fell on his back, one of his hands falling over the side and his eyes closing as soon as his head at the pillow. His shirt had claw marks that were lined with blood and his duster had barely escaped the carnage, a few holes separate from the preexisting moth holes sticky with some supernatural substance.

"Have to be prepared when it comes to you." You patted his cheek, thumbing over his cheekbones to try and arouse some consciousness. "Can't have you fallin' asleep on me. You might not wake up." You weren't going to leave his side until you were sure he wasn't going to die in your absence.

He babbled unintelligently, his mouth moving but having no connection to his brain to form any sort of actual thought. His eyes flit between closed and aware, his head moving to catch up with the spinning room, his mouth impossibly dry, and his head pounding. In his head, he insisted he was fine, but the words wouldn't come out right. He spat them out garbled and messy until he was too choked up to even try anymore.

He was barely conscious when he felt your wrist at his mouth. He had enough sense to shake his head and nudge away your wrist with his nose, but his lack of strength made his attempts futile. "No," he mumbled.

"You'll feel better," your voice swam around in his head until the words lost meaning and he just smiled at the sound of your voice. You swiped your thumb across one of his canines, the red contrasting with the pearly whites of his teeth swiftly wiped away by the pink of his tongue. After the taste of your blood was on his tongue, his sense was surrendered to instinct as he brought your wrist to his lips.

You didn't know what you were getting into. Vampires get their life force from blood, so it just made sense to have him feed from you to expedite the healing process. The more he drank, the louder your heartbeat grew in your ear and the closer he pulled you to him. You had only done this once before, when you were both drunk and dizzy and jokes being whispered in your ear turned into tiny nips from your neck that Buffy nearly walked in on.

In complete shock of what had happened then, you never brought it up, halfway convincing yourself that it never happened in the first place. If it did happen, he had enough sense to pull away then and you hoped he had the sense the pull away now, but now was much different. Now, there was a newfound hunger. A desperation. Like he had been starving himself for years and you were the first bite of food he had eaten. Had to have been good food to, with the way he inhaled you, indulged in you like you were some ambrosia or golden mead.

"Spike," you moaned. "I'm getting a bit light-headed." Your voice was high and thin, fearful as you made attempts to pull your arm from his lips. Through his haze, his fangs contracted back, and his tongue swiped whatever lingered on your skin.

"I'm sorry." Sorry for going too far, sorry for almost turning you into an empty Capri Sun pouch, sorry for being reckless again.

" 's ok."

You wobbled a bit as you stood, fingers wrapped around your wound as you shuffled into your kitchen in pursuit of your first aid kit. "You gonna tell me what happened?" He only groaned from the couch.

"Maybe tomorrow. I'm tired." You laughed on your way over to him, wrist already covered in gauze with an all too familiar needle and thread in hand.

"You're tired?" The smell of your blood was all too pungent, still. He turned his head towards the wall, studying the numerous music posters and paintings you had hanging.

"Going out to fight evil is a very hard job." You chuckled.

"I know. That's why I stay in here to patch you up." Your fingers were like magic. They always had a way of calming him down. Especially the way you hummed to yourself while you worked. You were never content with just silence. "I expect an answer in the morning." He smiled.

"Yes, ma'am." He fell asleep before you even finished and by the time you were done, you were too tired to walk the down the hall to your bed. You laid your head down on his chest, with no heartbeat to thrum and no breath to rock you, you still fell asleep just like that. Who knew cold bodies were so comfortable.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 72 (BIG News!)

Weeks after their adventurous night at the lighthouse, Heather started to suspect she might be pregnant again. A bundle of nerves at the prospect less than a year after her miscarriage, an appointment with Dr. Serra confirmed she was, indeed, expecting.

When Conrad came home from work, she was modding one of her computer games, trying to keep her mind off how he might react. He walked in the door having picked up Ash from daycare on his way home, and she turned off her game before he came out of the bathroom.

"Hey, I'm pregnant," she blurted nonchalantly. Conrad stopped in his tracks.

"Are you really?"

After the work they'd done together to help him through his grief, fear was the furthest thing from his mind. As he processed the news, he smiled. Conrad trusted he was ready to be a father, and the thought of expanding his family with Heather filled him with excitement. "I'm so happy," he said, pulling her in for an embrace.

Once Ash was in his pajamas and they cleaned up after dinner, they sat him down. It was still early in Heather's pregnancy, but this time they were more than ready to share their news. "Ash, sweetie, mommy and Conrad are going to have a baby. That means you're going to be a big brother!"

Four-year-old Ash smiled up at them cluelessly. "Will baby have fur like the baby kitties?"

They laughed. "I hope not, buddy. We're not that hairy!" said Conrad.

The next time they were in San Myshuno to deliver Ash to the Landgraabs, they all stopped in at Uncle Karl and Mortimer's penthouse before returning home.

Holly brought out her calm, dark-haired daughter Tetra to greet her Aunt Heather. Ash babbled away to his new cousin, who watched him curiously from her mother's arms.

"She's the sweetest, and she's getting so big," Heather cooed. "I'm glad I only need to wait about seven more months before I'll be able to have baby cuddles at home again."

Holly grinned. "Are you pregnant?" Heather nodded. "Oh my Watcher! I'm pregnant again, too! About eight weeks."

The sisters were due just weeks apart, and they celebrated their shared big news with Mortimer and Uncle Karl until Heather was due to drop off Ash across town. When they arrived at Spire Tower, they were greeted by Malcolm.

"Hey, so...some news. Miko's pregnant," he said.

Heather laughed. "Who isn't pregnant, Malcolm? Conrad and I are expecting, too."

As fate would have it, Ash was due to welcome two new siblings - and a new cousin - in the span of a few weeks, but for now he still wasn't sure why everyone around him was so excited. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I didn't plan this, I swear! Just Heather!

[random-gamer1942]

(1/7) The train that was

Trainwreck Graveyard

(2/7) Ready to go

The train started coming to a halt about a minute after the explosion

Why do these things have to be so loud, the sheriff thought, ears still ringing. She let out a sigh and closed her eyes for a moment, before attempting to stand up

Her legs were a bit shaky, but she couldn't care less with the situation at hand. Once the train had fully stopped, she stepped onto the ground through the missing back of the cabin and looked off into the distance

Broken pieces of metal were scattered everywhere, and the rails had been damaged. The last 2 cabins had been disconnected and derailed where the explosion happened a good 70-80 yards back, and was currently on it's side

Thankfully she didn't see anyone in there. The train station only let you walk directly into the first three cabins and this was a less busy time of week, but this could've been bad

As she started walking to investigate the site, someone approuched from the train. She looked back and saw a man that looked annoyed - and what she very easily recognized as a concealed sawed-off shotgun in his coat

With a smooth motion she pulled both her revolvers. "I know a thug when I see one, who the hell are you?"

He flinched, but didn't do anything. Instead, he said "The 2 that rode off don't count then? Besides, not everything revolves around you, big-shot. I gotta find those outlaws before I lose this gig."

"Gi-? Ah, hired protection. Say, you talk big for someone who should've prevented this in the first place."

"Whatever, just let me do my job", he said, walking towards the disconnected cabins to investigate, with the sheriff following suit

After a few minutes of looking around they discovered 2 things: 1) tracks, clearly from horses, and 2) a monocle, but from one of those outlaws. It seems there had been someone in the cabin after all, though there was no trace of them...

The man turned to the sheriff. "Well, good luck with writing a report or whatever, I'm off", as he started following the tracks.

"Hold your horses, cowboy. No way are you going after them by yourself, can't have another missing person on my conscience."

"I don't plan on going missing Ms. Big-shot. But fine, come along if you have to."

"Stop calling me that, my name's Ashlyn."

"No thanks, I'm fine with Big-shot. But for the sake of pleasantries, I'm Tyler."

She sighed. She didn't like working with others, especially knuckleheads like him. But she had this strange feeling she was gonna need all the help she could get. And right as she thought that, someone else came running up

"An adventure!? I'm coming along!", said the woman, who looked very excited. And kind of like the knucklehead too, the sheriff thought

"No way Tay, too dangerous. Besides, shouldn't you stay behind to fix the train?"

"C'mon Ty, not even I could fix this by myself. The conductor has already sent for help from a few other mechanics, they won't even notice I'm gone."

"But-"

"Besides, mom said we should always stick together. I'm going."

"Fine. But is the luggage really necessary", he asked, gesturing at the large backpack she had with her

"You never know what you'll need, and you always take too little with you. And I'm carrying it myself, so stop complaining", she snapped back

He sighed, defeated. Siblings, good to know, Ash noted. And soon, they were ready to set off

...

Aiden sat on the back of his cousin's horse, looking at the sunset. "Say Stache, why in tarnation did we take that softie again?"

The man on the horse next to him with a large moustache looked increasingly annoyed from being asked the same question for the who-knows-how-oftenth time. "Smiles, I swear to the lord in the heavens above, if you ask me that question again I'll throw this shrimp on your guys' horse."

"It don't make no sense to me though..."

"For the LAST time, he's important leverage for the possible skirmishes next week."

"But why'd they give two shit bout 'im? 'Leverage' didn't work last time."

"That's because you're the only person on this darned earth insane enough to enjoy being kidnapped by criminals, and whose parents would for some reason be okay with you wanting to stay?"

"I mean, it do be excitin', don't it?"

"Just shut up, you're givin' me another headache. Besides, we're here."

He pointed to a cave about 300 yards away, with dim orange light coming out of it. After riding for a few more moments the 4 horses came to a stop. The cousins, the man with a moustache, and 3 others stepped off their horses

The man who rode in front grabbed a weird object from his horse and gave the reins to one of the other outlaws

"Cwrwfwll wwth thwt", the kid on the back of Stache's horse mumbled through the cloth in his mouth, but noone paid him any mind

"Scars, Salted, tie them horses down. Stache, grab that kid and come with me. Same for y'all, Smiles, Silent."

Some 'yes sir's and 'alrighty's were said and Ben nodded. Stache threw the young 20-something with light brown hair over his shoulder and, together with the cousins, started following the boss

Inside, they saw a handful of others sitting around a campfire. The group, including them, consisted of about a dozen outlaws, ranging from about 16 to 40 years old

A few of them greeted the boss and the three others as they came walking in. A bit later, the last to also came to join them

"Alrighty, seems everyone's here. I think we're almost ready boys. A few more days and our names will be known throughout the country", the leader said, lighting a cigar. "A few more days..."

(3/7): in progress

[2dmenforme]

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(Keisuke Baji x female reader) Mature Content, 18+

Tags: porn with a plot, marijuana use, mentions of alcohol consumption, oral sex (male & female receiving), smut, fluff, Baji has a big dick, breast worship, slightly shy & awkward reader (she can get it though!), Baji w/tongue piercing, pet names (mostly ‘baby’), penis in vagina sex, unprotected sex, Baji is a big simp for the reader, very fluffy ending, Baji and reader are over 18

Synopsis: You recently became friends with Keisuke Baji. You're co-workers at a pet shop and UTokyo students. Now you’re finally alone with Baji for the first time at his place. Your plan is to get high and seduce him. But you're more nervous than you thought. Baji is hot - like so hot.

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: originally posted as a 3 part series on my deactivated tumblr (username Bajiisofine). This is the full version in its entirety, slightly edited.

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It’s the first day of winter break for UTokyo students. To celebrate, Keisuke Baji invited you over to the apartment he shares with his friends and co-workers, Kazutora and Chifuyu. A few weeks ago you began working part-time at Pet Shop Palme, which is how you met the trio.

You had quickly grown accustomed to the four of you going back to their apartment after work to unwind with a few beers or to smoke a bowl. However, today is the first time you've been completely alone with Baji at his place — his roommates are both out of town with their girlfriends.

You and Keisuke are sitting crossed-legged on his bedroom floor, leaning against the wall opposite his unmade bed. A large overflowing ashtray sits between you. His walls are covered in karate tournament flyers and motorcycle posters. A punk playlist plays at a low volume, providing background noise.

"There's like maybe one hit left."

Straightening out his legs, Baji gently taps your bare foot with his pinkie toe to get your attention. You’re trying not to stare at the skin peeking through the rips in his black jeans.

His honey-brown eyes are red and glassy from the weed. After taking his last hit from the pipe he passes it to you. Grasping it, you brush your fingers across his thumb ring. An electric spark jolts through you. You notice the bowl is mostly gray ash at this point but attempt to light it anyway.

“Ugh! That was gross!" You laugh, coughing as you exhale, dumping the remnants into the ashtray between you.

“I warned you,” he chuckles at the face you’re making. “So, whatcha wanna do tonight?" Baji leans his head back against the wall and raises his eyebrows expectantly. Turning to face him, you’re mesmerized by his ink-black hair cascading in soft waves down to his shoulders. Suddenly you feel very shy and break eye contact.

"Um, well… Emma texted me earlier. She said she was able to convince Mikey and Ken to agree to go to karaoke tonight," you giggle, looking down at your chipped nail polish. You met Emma and her best friend Hina at the beginning of the semester and became fast friends. Emma was the one who told you about the job opening at the pet store.

"Pfft," Keisuke laughs, "I would definitely pay good money to see that." He pushes the ashtray away and repositions himself. Before you can raise your head to look at him, he lays his head in your lap, his long hair spilling over your thighs.

Keisuke grins, his sharp canine teeth graze his bottom lip as he reaches up to trace his knuckles along your jawline. His smile widens when your eyes meet. “Hey, pretty,” his deep voice is barely above a whisper.

You freeze, suddenly aware that your heart is beating too loudly. So loud in fact, that he must be able to hear it.

"Baji, I have to pee!" You push yourself up off the floor, trying to hide the fact that you're trembling. His head hits the ground with a hard thud.

"Ow!” Keisuke grimaces, laughing and rubbing his head.

"I'll be right back!" Rushing to his bathroom, you lock the door and look at your reflection. "Shit!"

Your innocent workplace crush on Baji has intensified over the past three weeks you've known him. Normally getting high relaxes you — that was the plan for today: smoke with Keisuke and make your move. But for some reason, his sudden flirting made you feel self-conscious and nervous.

Turning on the faucet, you splash cold water on your face and try to calm down. Glancing in the mirror, you're grateful for your waterproof mascara. After patting your face dry and trying to salvage what you can of your makeup, you text Emma and Hina in group chat to tell them what a fool you just made of yourself. Realizing you've now been in Keisuke's bathroom for over 20 minutes you sigh and flush the toilet.

"Hey! I thought you fell in!" Baji shoots you his toothy smile from a reclined position on his bed. His wavy dark hair pools over the white pillowcases like an oil spill. His sheets are surprisingly clean.

In fact, because of your nerves, that's the first thing that comes out of your mouth. "Your sheets are so clean!"

Keisuke rolls his eyes, "Thanks. I do laundry — sometimes." He laughs and extends his left arm out, making a come here motion with his hand. His silver rings catch your eye. Baji’s hands are beautiful: large and veiny with long slender fingers.

He notices you staring at his hand, “What? It's clean, stop judging me!” Keisuke feigns being offended and sticks out his tongue at you. The ball of his silver tongue ring glints in the low lighting from his bedside lamp.

You laugh and climb onto the bed next to him. But not before managing to bump your shin hard on his bed frame.

"Fuck!" You reach down instinctively and rub your shin.

"Hey, c’mere," he chuckles as he sits up to massage your leg.

"Keisuke,” you sigh. "I-I like you." You look sheepishly up into his eyes, noticing that the pupils in his amber irises have widened.

Keisuke bites his lower lip, the tips of his pointy canines peeking out. He swears no one has ever looked at him quite like the way you did just now.

Not breaking eye contact, he lays back down and pulls you towards him. “I like you too.” The sultry tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine.

Hesitating briefly, you kiss him. Tentatively, at first, shy with your affection. Baji pursues the kiss further, massaging your tongue with his. You can just barely feel his piercing, his tongue is gentle, sensual. Feeling bolder, you lick his upper lip with the tip of your tongue. He moans, teasingly biting your lower lip.

“I want you," Keisuke whispers as he moves away from your mouth to nip and kiss your jawline down your neck.

A delicious warmth spreads through your core as your body responds to his. Your skin tingles where he touches you. Reaching down between his legs, you caress the growing bulge straining against his jeans. Baji moans, reflexively thrusting his pelvis against your hand.

"I want you too," you’re practically purring. Lifting his black and gray striped shirt with one hand, you kiss his toned chest and stomach. Your other hand remains pressed against his cock, firmly stroking his erection.

You kiss your way down his happy trail, nibbling and licking it playfully. Glancing up at Keisuke, you see his eyes are closed, his head back against his pillow, clearly enjoying your attention. His blissful expression gives you the confidence to unzip his pants. Baji opens his eyes and quickly helps you pull down his pants and boxer briefs.

You move your head down to his cock, he’s huge and hard and so ready. His dick twitches with yearning, clear drops of precum beading down its engorged head.

"Hey," Keisuke's voice is thick with lust. He clears his throat and looks at you, reaching down to gently stroke your cheek, "you don't have to do anything you don't wanna.”

"I wanna," you murmur, wantonly gazing up into his eyes. You’re nearly drooling, you just want his fat dick in your mouth now.

"Thank god," Keisuke mumbles, throwing his head back, a moan escaping his lips as you grasp his long girthy cock.

Teasingly, you lick away the precum that has begun to drip down his shaft. You drag your tongue down to his balls and up again to just below the tip, coating his shaft with warm saliva.

You repeat this motion, making sure his cock is nice and wet; your mouth's lubrication pooling around the base of his balls. Finally, you reach the head and swirl your tongue over his tip. Baji moans and grabs the back of your head with one hand while bunching up his sheets with the other. He continues to rake his fingers through your hair as you take him as far as you can into your mouth, wrapping your lips around him. He’s too big to take entirely into your mouth so you grip the base of his cock with both hands.

Creating suction with your cheeks, you gently hum as you continue to swirl your tongue over the head of his cock and back down, running your tongue along the thick protruding vein on the underside of his shaft.

You begin bobbing your head up and down while simultaneously pumping the base with both hands dripping with your saliva. Baji thrusts his hips up, groaning as he pushes himself further into your warm wet mouth. A low guttural sound escapes his lips. He opens his eyes, “B-baby... uff... I-I’m gonna cum.”

You look up, your lips still wrapped around his thick shaft as far as they will go, and nod, signaling him to cum in your mouth. Baji moans your name as he ejaculates, you continue sucking and pumping until he’s left shuddering and jerking beneath you. After swallowing his load, you sweetly smile up at him, and gently kiss the tip of his sensitive cock.

"Damn… you’re amazing,” Keisuke gazes at you with starry-eyed affection for several seconds before sitting up and pulling you into his lap. He kisses you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue.

“It’s your turn now, pretty baby,” Keisuke chuckles as he pushes you playfully back onto his bed.

Baji stretches to hand you a bottle of water from his bedside table. His black and gray striped t-shirt raised halfway above his toned abdomen. He smiles down at you — his amber bedroom eyes and sharp canines giving him a distinctly predatory air. Not breaking eye contact, he pulls a hair tie off his wrist and holds it between his teeth, gathering his wavy black hair in a ponytail.

“I like to tie my hair back… before I eat,” Baji winks, sticking his tongue out suggestively, the silver ball of his tongue piercing protruding forward on its bar.

You snort-laugh, nearly choking on your water, even though he’s making your heart pound — no longer from nervousness but desire. Your body tingles, yearning to feel the sensation of that tongue, his hot breath between your legs.

“Ohh — you laugh,” his tone is light, teasing. He leans over to tickle you, burying his face in the curve of your neck. “But, I know you’ll like it,” Keisuke whispers in his smooth baritone, tugging at your earlobe with his teeth.

“Lemme taste you,” Baji licks the sweet spot just beneath your ear, coaxing a moan out of you. “Hmm… pretty baby?”

“Yess, Keisuke…,” your voice hitches in your throat, a surge of heat flooding through you, culminating between your thighs. You grab at his shirt, tugging it over his head.

“You’re the one whose clothes are in the way,” Baji mumbles. Hungrily eyeing your body, he runs his silver-ringed fingers over the swell of your breasts and down your torso. Curling his fingers under the hem of your shirt, he caresses your bare skin with his knuckles as he pulls it over your head. Tossing your shirt aside, Keisuke wraps his large hands around your rib cage, lifting you further back onto his bed so your head rests on his pillows.

You hold your arms out, inviting him in. Smiling up at him, your expression somehow both innocent and full of desire. Swooning at your eagerness he bends to kiss you — deeply, wantonly, moaning into your mouth as you palm his hardening cock.

“Wait — wait, baby… let’s get you naked.” Baji stands, his already huge erection bobbing in your face as he helps you pull off your leggings. He pauses to admire you in your bra and panties.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he purrs. Watching you undo your bra, he groans appreciatively as your breasts bounce free. His dick twitches, a bead of precum leaking from the swollen head.

Quickly leaning back against his pillows, you open your arms and legs for him. Baji lays on top of you, caging you in. His silver pendants dangling from his neck. He grins, his canines cutely scraping against his bottom lip. Keisuke lowers his head to kiss you again, more slowly this time. He massages the ball of his piercing sensually over your tongue. His lips linger on yours, swallowing your little moans. Pulling away from your mouth, he licks and bites down your neck and collarbone before moving to your breasts.

Groaning quietly, he cups your soft flesh in his large palms, sucking and licking your nipples lasciviously. “Mmm— I’ve wanted your titties in my mouth,” Baji’s resonant voice against your sensitive nipple vibrates through your core.

“Keisuke.” You sigh, grasping at the nape of his neck, pressing his head closer to your chest.

He grins against your breasts, swirling his tongue around one of your erect nipples, rolling the tip of the other between the pads of his fingers. He’s satisfied once the peaks of both your breasts are tender and wet with his saliva.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” Keisuke murmurs as he kisses and licks his way to your stomach. He teasingly dips a fingertip into your belly button, eliciting goosebumps and a breathy sigh. He chuckles at your reaction, “You’re so cute.”

Baji slowly inches down your body, kissing and nibbling around the outline of your panties. Sharp teeth grazing the soft skin of your belly, hips, and upper thighs. He is a tease, purposefully ignoring the growing wet spot on the fabric centimeters from his lips. He chuckles at your desperation, the way you thrust your pelvis, trying to get relief from friction by rubbing against his face.

Finally, he plants a kiss on your clothed slit. You moan, wriggling your hips, hands tangling a mess in his ponytail. Keisuke chuckles again, “Okay, okay, baby… I’m gettin’ there.”

Hooking his long fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, he slides the sopping garment down your thighs. A low growl forms in his throat as a slippery strand of your arousal clings to the crotch of your panties. “Fuuck,” Baji's breath is heavy as he licks his lips, looking up at you. “Your pussy’s so wet.”

You squirm, self-conscious and horny, “Keisuk-ehh,” you whine, turning your head, burying your face in his pillow.

Completely exposed to him, Baji splays his big hands between your thighs, spreading them wider. His bronze eyes are lustful and dreamy as he admires your glistening wet lips. Mesmerized by your pussy, he traces the outline of your swollen labia with his fingertip before gathering the slick seeping out of your little hole, spreading it around your lips.

You whimper as Keisuke puts his nose practically inside of you. Inhaling the scent of your arousal, he moans about how good you smell. The sensation of his hot breath against your naked pussy makes your toes curl.

Grinning at your soft mewls, he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the hood of your clitoris. You jolt, the sensation sending a rush of heat through your body as you thrust up against his lips.

Keisuke purrs, sliding the tip of his tongue between your lips, tasting you. “Mmmm.”

The vibration from his deep voice sends shivers through you, making your hips buck again.

“So squirmy,” he chuckles. Curling his arms underneath your thighs, he grips you with his biceps, holding you firmly against him so he can continue.

Baji looks up at you with pure want in his eyes. Wetting his lips, he sticks out his tongue, holding it flat against his chin. The ball of his piercing raised from its stem. Slowly, sensuously, he licks you. His wide tongue trails saliva up and down your pussy and over your clitoris. His slow pace is deliciously agonizing, you writhe beneath his strong grip on your thighs. Panting, you rake your fingers through his hair, loosening his ponytail.

Baji moves his attention to your clit, slurping and sucking it noisily. Encouraged by your moans, he slips a single finger inside you. Deftly curling it upwards, exploring your warm wet walls, searching for your special spot.

Trembling, you reach to touch his lips, putting one of your fingers inside his mouth. You start rubbing your fingertip over your swollen nub while his mouth is on you. Groaning at the sensation of your finger in his mouth, Keisuke slides a second finger into your drooling pussy, stretching you out. He’s found your sweet spot and presses it with a firm, deep pressure. An intense wave rushes through your entire body, arching your back in pleasure. Baji greedily licks your fingers, sucking on them.

“Unff…ffuu…,” you whimper, as more meaningless words spilling from your lips. Your face muffled against his pillow. You’re so close to release; your whole body tingles, toes curling. Panting, you gyrate against Keisuke’s mouth, rubbing your wet pussy on his face. He thrusts and curves his fingers inside your walls, rhythmically massaging your G-spot. His lips make sloppy wet sounds as he continues sucking your clit. Your wet walls contract, pulsating. Baji moans as your pussy flutters around his fingers.

“Keisuke!” You cry out, cumming hard against his face. He keeps his mouth over your clit and fingers firmly inside you as you ride out your high.

Still panting, you sigh contentedly, giving Baji’s head a little squeeze between your thighs. He sits up, amber eyes beaming at you, a triumphant grin on his face. His long dark hair has come out of its ponytail, wisps sticking to the sweat on his forehead. His lips, chin, and the tip of his nose glistening with your slick.

“I wanna fuck you now,” Keisuke smiles wolfishly up at you from between your thighs, his bronze eyes heavy-lidded with desire. Sitting up, he wipes away the sweat from his forehead, running his fingers through his long tangled hair. “Fuck… I need some water,” he chuckles. “Your little pussy made me thirsty.” He notices you’re still panting and grins, “I bet you're thirsty too, huh?”

“Oh my god, yes! I just didn’t want to ruin the moment by saying anything,” you laugh.

“Baby, this is a marathon, you gotta stay hydrated,” Baji winks at you as he gets up from his bed, his huge veiny hard-on bobbing in front of him. It leads him from his room to the kitchen. Sighing, you stare at the little bounce his sculpted muscular ass produces as he walks away. Your wet pussy leaks onto his sheets as you stretch your arms above your head.

Hastily, you sprint to his bathroom to pee, making it back just as he returns with a bottle of water from his fridge. He’s about to hand it to you when he has a better idea.

“Open your mouth, gorgeous,” Keisuke opens the bottle and slowly pours it into your mouth, his eyes filled with lust as he watches the stream of water spilling from your lips down your neck to your bare breasts.

Palming his neglected erection, he takes a gulp of water and bends down to kiss you, sensually passing the water from his mouth to yours. Keisuke slowly swirls his tongue, teasing yours with the ball of his piercing. The taste of your pussy is still on his lips and tongue. You moan into his mouth as he takes the tip of your tongue between his lips and gently sucks it.

Baji eagerly lays on top of you as you reach down between his toned quads to stroke his cock from base to tip. Warm precum leaks from the engorged head into your palm. The veins in his thick shaft are completely swollen, his dick feels so heavy and huge — you need both hands to stroke him properly. Groaning, his hips reflexively roll forward, thrusting his needy cock against your hands.

“Keisuk-ehh,” you purr, looking up at him with yearning eyes. Bending down to kiss you, his pendants dangle from his neck above you. Baji slips one of his large hands between your legs. His silver rings scrape against the tender skin of your thighs. He easily penetrates your drooling wet pussy with two long fingers, curling them upwards. A low groan vibrates from his Adam’s apple when he feels just how wet and ready you are for him.

“Ufff… I need to be in you,” Keisuke grunts, his usually velvety deep voice sounds gruff now, making your pussy ache. You whimper, gyrating against his fingers inside you, needing to feel the friction from his hand against your slick lips and swollen clit.

Your horny noises and thrusting pussy are too much for Baji — a hoarse growl emanates from his throat as he grabs you by your thighs, spreading your legs and pulling your hips flush beneath him. Your pelvis instinctively bucks up as he grips his thick cock in one hand, gliding it over your slippery folds. You both moan as he slaps the head against your needy clit.

“Mmm, baby… you’re so wet,” Keisuke gazes down at your glistening cunt, his sharp canines biting into his lower lip. His eyes transfixed on your shiny swollen labia, he slowly eases into your warm wet hole, groaning at the sight of your drooling little pussy taking in his lengthy cock.

Baji bends to kiss you, teasingly licking your lower lip before penetrating your mouth, massaging your tongue with his. Your whole body tingles from the sensations of his fat tongue in your mouth and fat cock in your pussy.

He moans into your mouth as the plush walls of your hot little cunt stretch to accommodate his lengthy hard dick. He sensually circles his hips, thrusting into you, his large hands firmly gripping your ass and thighs.

Keisuke fucks you hard, burying his shaft deep in your pussy, with each thrust his heavy balls bounce against your ass. He stares lustfully at your breasts bouncing as he pounds into you. Both your bodies slick with sweat, incoherent sex noises and lewd squelching sounds from your pussy fill the room, the air thick with pheromones.

Baji reaches between your legs to rub wet circles around your clitoris, then gently pinches it. “Fff…uff,” you moan, toes curling, back arching off the mattress as you writhe beneath him. He groans as you buck your hips up, grinding your swollen clit against his pelvis, your walls gripping his entire length inside you.

Keisuke leans forward to suck on your titties. He wraps his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it, swirling his tongue around the hard tip, drooling — his eyes closed in pure ecstasy. Mewling, you grab his muscular ass with both hands, pushing him deeper into you. Baji moans as your sopping-wet pussy sucks him in.

Your walls begin to contract and flutter around him, and you whimper, burying your face in one of his pillows. Your toes curl as his cock swells even larger inside you, making your pussy throb. Your entire body tingles, waves of pleasurable heat flow through your core. “Ffuu… uhf… KEI!” You call out his name, moaning, trembling, your thighs shaking. Keisuke gazes down at you, his golden brown eyes half-closed and dreamy as he fucks you through your orgasm.

The hot pulsating sensations of your wet walls fluttering and squeezing his cock soon push Baji to his limit. There’s a warm tingling in his balls, the muscles at the base of his dick tighten and contract. Keisuke grunts, clenching his pelvic muscles, trying to hold back, but it’s no use.

It’s the way you look panting beneath him: You’re just too hot, your pussy’s too wet. Your sexy little moans… the fuckin’ needy way you called out his name as you came so hard, creaming around his cock…. FUUCK!

Baji groans, exhaling a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “I’m gonna cum!” He calls out your name, you moan as you squeeze his thick cock, milking it as he thrusts into you, sloppily jerking his hips, shooting his hot cum deep in your pussy. Keisuke moans, his shoulders shuddering, the aftershocks of his orgasm sending shivers down his spine. He collapses on top of you with a little grunt.

“Fuck, baby... you wore me out,” Baji chuckles as he rolls over onto his pillow next to you.

“You’re so pretty when you cum…” he touches your mouth, tracing your lips with his index finger, “and your little noises are so sexy.” He smiles at you with soft affection in his eyes.

“You’re pretty hot, yourself — Baji-san.” You both laugh at the name he specifically told you not to call him when you first started working at the pet shop.

“C’mere, gorgeous.” Keisuke pulls you onto his sculpted chest, embracing you in a full-body hug. He lowers his chin and kisses the top of your head, “You smell so good,” he murmurs into your hair.

The silver pendants from his necklaces press against your face. You push them gently aside, laying your hand on his heart. He begins drawing tiny shapes on the back of your hand with his fingertips. Sighing, you nuzzle in closer to his chest. Baji’s skin smells warm and comforting — a faint blend of sandalwood, pot, and sex. Soft strands of his long wavy black hair tickle your face.

“Y’know, it’s kinda funny…,” Baji pauses to clear his throat. You can feel his Adam’s apple bob and vibrate as he speaks, his deep voice low and soothing. “I asked you to come over tonight ‘cos I was gonna ask you out.” He entwines his fingers with yours. “I even made sure Chifuyu and Kazutora would be gone so we could be alone.”

“Really?” You smile as you feel Baji’s heart begin to beat a little bit faster in his chest.

“But I wasn’t sure if you liked me in that way… y’know — romantically,” he mumbles, and you can practically hear the blush in his voice.

How is he so fucking cute?

“Keisuke,” you lift your head to peer up at him. And he is blushing, his chiseled cheekbones dusted pink. He momentarily looks away from you, breaking eye contact. He’s embarrassed because he blushed and you saw it.

“Kei,” you sit up and place a hand on one of his pink cheeks. “I came over because I wanted to have sex with you. Like, that was my plan from the beginning,” you tell him, thinking it will reassure him.

Baji looks into your eyes. His expression is soft and sincere, vulnerable. “I don’t want just that though…,” he pauses and self-consciously rubs the back of his neck, trying very hard not to break eye contact.

“Fuck — what I’m tryin’ to say is… I don’t wanna be,” he makes air quotes here, “‘friends with benefits’, or fuck buddies. Or any of that shit. I want more than that. I really, truly like you… a lot,” he realizes he’s still rubbing at the back of his neck and puts his hand down. He grins at you sheepishly, a wide smile that makes his brown eyes crinkle adorably shut.

“Keisuke!” You’re completely unable to think of anything even remotely coherent to say. He looks down at you expectantly. And you just stare back up at him for several long seconds, with pure adoration in your eyes. If heart eyes were real, you’d definitely have them.

Finally, you’re able to speak — sort of: “I-I like you too… really, so so much… like I can’t even begin to say h—”

“Then just kiss me already,” Keisuke chuckles, pulling you towards him.

©️poorly written by Bajiisofine 2dmenforme, 2023. Please do not copy, translate, upload to other platforms, or claim as your own.

[writingoddess1125]

Birthday Gifts

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x FemReader +OOC

THIS IS A BitterSweet ONE

Previous Triplet Series <<<

⚠️WARNING:⚠️ Saddness, Spoilers, Character Death, Depression, PTSD, Child Birth.

I AM WARNING YOU! THIS IS BITTERSWEET AND IF YOU DONT WANT MW3 SPOILERS LEAVE!

Also if you complain about the Bday I found 3 different birthdays and just picked one- No judging.

You knew this mission would be a hard one for Simon, Leaving you for 3 months to do a final mission before taking his leave to be with you.

"I'll be back- I promise" He had whispered to you, before leaving. It was hard, you were fortunate you were still in the early stages of your pregnancy but it didn't make it easy. Comforting yourself during morning sickness, the ache that seemed to settle over your bones. You counted down the days for your husband's return, as your body swelled with your children.

"Simon?..." You whisper softly, he looked so... beat down in his poster. His hoodie drawn up over his hair and still in a face mask. Something was wrong- You could tell immediately by his body language and how drawn away he was from you-

However it was worth it- You knew he would be back.. He had to.

When you got the message from Price that they would be landing on base in a few hours, you jumped in joy. Getting a nice dinner set and dressing up nicely as you rushed to go pick up your husband. Getting in the old truck which Simon planned to trade in for something new you speed to the close by Marine Base to pick up your husband.

With a quick flash of your badge you waited in the parking lot, scrolling through your phone ready to show off different things you wanted to get the babies.

Hearing the passenger door open you beam ready to kiss and cuddle over your husband but pause. His movements were slow as he sat in the seat not even looking in your direction.

"...Johnny is Gone... we scattered his ashes" He said simply- and your heart shattered for him, understanding immediately what was wrong. Silence after that as you took Simon's hand in your own free one before starting the car and driving the two of you home in silence.

"Baby?" You say softly, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment before he gaze a uneasy sigh.

You had to pick up the peices that night, and the night after and for the next few days... Simon feeling guilt in his heart and regret- Swearing he could have done more, he could have saved him if only... crying in your arms and holding you close as he battled demons in himself.

You knew Simon had delt with the loss of comrades before but never like this.. He set so many regrets on his shoulders, mainly for not being enough.

It took time, but he did reveal why this hit him harder then before- Admitting his final conversation with the Sargent was about his birthday and wanting to knkw Simons. Simon dismissing him of course but Soap begging of course which made the man relent and tell him- Soap snagging his phone to save his birthday so his Lieutenant didn't forget it- It had been a conversation that had warmed his heart secretly making him feel like he was a child again and having made a friend in school.

Only for it to be ripped away days later..

While Simon kept up his normal kindness towards you, you saw the fence he had put back up in his emotions from you. You understood it would take time and eventually come down once again- It took a month for Simon to place his unease away for you, Which you didn't mind since it had been your turn to be a rock for him.

Now hitting your 32 week mark you got Simon back fully- him helping you out in terms of movements as he opened up slowly to you.

And in truth you needed it-

You were HUGE at this point. It was hard to move and the pain was increasing by the day.

Tonight was no exception either, You had been trying to get some rest for the past few hours but couldnt- It was only 11pm and Simon was asleep next to you, lucky bastard- There was pressure on your pelvis and you couldn't move, it having been 3 weeks too long since you could shift your own weight while lying down. Sighing you gently tap Simon away, His eyes opening immediately with instant clearness as he stared at you.

"Im sorry- I just.. I have to pee..and i havent been able to get up in 10 minutes" You said softly, Simon nodding without laughing which you were greatful for as he helped you up and began to help you waddle to the bathroom.

Mid step a gush of liquid rushed down you legs and you almost sobbed right there- Both you and Simon looking at each other and sighing.

"That wasn't pee was it?" He asked, almost hoping it was pee- sadly you shook your head no. Simon nodded and helped you to the toilet before going to get the newly purchased SUV set up. Loading up the bags and three carseats for you as you did your business changed and went to meet him to start the grand adventure to the hospital-

The next few hours were a joy- if hell was a playground.

They were getting you prepped for your C-section and so you'd sat there with Simon waiting as the cramps were eating you alive. You were way too early and they had planned to have your surgery in a few weeks, this however was a awful surprise.

You were leaned against Simon, they had warned him you'd be uncomforble for a while as the drugs worked through your system and they prepped you for surgery.

The doctors rushed in quickly, looking over your charts and the machines tooled up to you.

"We are getting you into surgery now- It seems like the labor was brought on due to your triplets being under high stress and your blood pressure has risen greatly" The doctor said as calmly and carefully as possible- Which did not make you feel calm at all! Simon clearly the same way as in a flash they carted you off. Your eyes as wide as saucers as you were lead into surgery- what could only be described as a tent being placed over your abdomen as they added more drugs to your IV making you feel dizzy.

"How are you holding up?" Simon asked, dressed in the hospital covers that he had rushed on by instruction of the nurses and holding your hand tightly as you stared at him loopy-

"I'm scared-" You whispered, Simon nodding at this in understanding as he kissed your hand. The doctors that surrounded your lower body and proceeded with the surgery, Simon felt his anxiety raise as the familiar scent of copper filled the air but he couldn't see anything. Holding your hand tightly as you both patiently waited-

"Alright, We have the first Baby" The doctor announced, there was a pause for a second before a shrill scream filled the air, a nurse walking around quickly to place the baby in the glass bassinet and began to clean her off. You and Simon watching in total awe at the screaming girl-

"Second on the way" The doctor said quickly, before a second scream happened. Tears running down your cheeks as the second nurse went to clean the baby out as well.

"They are beautiful" Simon mumbled softly as you softly cried, still loopy from the drugs but unable to tear your eyes away from the two screaming bodies.

"First girl is 2.1kg (4lb 11oz) and 40.5 cm (16in), Second Girl 2kg on the dot and 38 cm (15in)" The nurse called out.

2 Minutes after the stroke of midnight a the final baby was lifted from you. Clearly this one begins a bit of a struggle as it wasnt annouced but the cord was wrapped around them-

"Its a boy!" The doctor called out, but his body limp and pale. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you saw the doctors quickly turn away and begin to try and get air in the babies lungs.

Simon was sitting there pale and eyes glossed over, it was like when he first got home after Soap died like he could only see his death and nothing more. His hand holding yours in a iron grip as he didn't move an inch-

The loud cry Seeming to break the spell that hung over the room as the boy was quickly rushed into a bassinet to begin his check over and treatment. Simon taking a breath again as he looked at you, his eyes beginning to return to some way of normal it seemed as he reached a shaking hand over to clear the tears from your cheeks.

"For the boy, 1.8kg (4lb 1oz) and 38cm (15 in)" The nurse called out, The bassinet being brought to your side as you saw your three squirming babies scream out at the world. You sobbing silently and watch in awe, Simon kissing your cheek as he couldn't tear his eyes away either.

"We are going to stitch you up and send you to recovery, Dad wanna come with us?" The nurse asked, Simon looking at you and you nodded- already feeling the narcotics pulling you into a forced sleep.

"Okay.."

The next hour was truthfully a blur for both of you. The babies being carted in and out, you bring pumped up with more drugs and Simon in a daze that in one day he was a father to three children..

The nurses asking him questions and lead him away from you to the nursery area were he could hold his kids while you rested. Having him scrubbed down and in cleans as he was seated in the clean room to hold each of his children, Holding both girls as he marveled at them- they looked so much like you.. A perfect mix between the two and in his eyes the most beautiful girls in the world.

"What about feedin's?" Simon asked his exhaustion making his accent stronger, especially after noting the lack of baby bottles. The nurse giving a sympathetic smile to the new father.

"They are on a feeding tubes" She said softly and pointed to the machine one of many attached to the tiny newborns.

Simon sat there, holding the little boy finally. Sadness in his eyes as he stared at the tiny Lad, smaller then his sisters and having barely survived the hard birth as the nurses told him, the tiny tube that was taped on his face didnt help Simons thoughts either.

The girls were asleep in the glass bassinet on the other side of him, He sat there holding the boy who had just been laid in his arms and sighing softly... the flashes of his own father going through his mind as doubt ate at his soul, Tommy as well- How he would be as a father.. what it truly ment to be one.

Jumping from his thoughts his phone started to buzz, not wanting to wake the babies he pulled it out quickly and silenced it- Seeing it was a reminder for something... His eyes widening at the text.

'November 12th 01:07am 🧼 Birthday'

"Son of a Bitch" Simon said with a sad laugh, shaking his head as he remembered his comrade and the request of a birthday gift from the Lieutenant.

"Couldnt let me forget could you?.." Simon said softly, tears welling in his eyes as he stared back at his little boy and held him closer. "Happy Birthday to you then..."

♡ Hazel Grace Riley - November 11th 11:56pm

♡ Rose Ann Riley - November 11th 11:59pm

♡ John 'Johnny' Scott Riley - November 12th 12:01am

[lady-of-tearshed]

Winds of change

Eris Vanserra centered

Eris Vanserra Week 2024

@erisweekofficial

Day 4 : Traditions

Summary: New ruler, new traditions, new ways of thinking. In this fic, Eris has to make his old tutor, Ms,Crawford, who is now tutoring his eldest son Aster, a clear reminder that the Autumn Court education system has changed. For the better.

Word count: 777 words (Ooooh, a lucky number! 🥰)

Warnings: Angry Eris.

Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears 🤎

🔥Based on this prompt 🔥

Eris' head was still throbbing painfully from this endless progress update meeting about Autumn's new education system. He had spent a good thirty minutes in the quiet meeting room once everyone had left.

Once the headache subsided only slightly after a few deep breaths, Eris stood up, slowly, testing his balance. Once he felt stable enough to stand on his legs, he walked slowly around the large table occupying the center of the room. He pushed each chair back into its place, enjoying the last moments of peace he could get before switching to his second role: being a dad.

Eris only left the throne room when everything was clean and organized. A servant could've, and would've done it for him, sure. But leaving his work place clean also helped him to return home with a clear head.

His muscles were sore, his feets heavy as they dragged him through the endless corridors leading him to the Forest House, to his home, and his body craved yours. Desperately. But fate had other plans for him, it seemed.

Eris winced at the too familiar tempo of heels limping his way. He turned around to face the old hag that tutored him back in his young days and sighed. He truly wondered to himself why he had decided to keep her in this palace, why he hadn't cared to find a remplacement for her.

Probably because he had pitied her, sadly.

“High Lord,” Her voice was so whiny, nasally, that it only worsened Eris' headache. And temper.

“Talk with my assistant for an appointment, Ms.Crawford. I have things to do,”

Eris shoved her off, trying to hurry back to you and his kids-

“It's about Aster,”

The growl in her voice made Eris worry. He turned around, more willing to listen to her. He knew that Aster, his eldest, had quite a … heated temper. He was a troublesome boy, indeed, but very clever. Aster didn't really enjoy school, which Eris could understand, since himself wasn't very pleased to spend his young days learning what this old hag had to teach him. But it had made him grow into a strong leader, yes, but mostly into a strong person. Because in Eris' opinion, knowledge was power. And it was a must that his kids were tutored for at least a few years.

“What about my son?”

Ms.Crawford leaned onto her cane, peering into Eris' amber eyes like she had done when he was just a young Fae. But her authority didn't shake him, not anymore. So he stood tall, and tucked his hands into his pockets, waiting.

“Today, he refused to use his magic,”

Eris raised a brow. “He respected his limits, so?”

“My Lord, with all due respect,” She spat, and Eris' eyes lit up with dark flames, “The boy will never be worthy to keep his title of Heir to the throne of Autumn Court if he won't risk to test the limits of his powers. It should be an honor for him to-”

“Say one more word,” Eris hissed, towering the woman from all his height, “And I'll send you to the farthest spot of this continent and exile you from my Court forever.”

Eris was panting. His fists were clenched on his sides and sparks of fire were crackling all around him. But the old hag stood tall, unshakable. “I am only trying to educate your son, High Lord,”

“Your ruler has changed, methods of education have changed. I thought I had made that clear with you when I had been kind enough to not find a replacement for you. But you're making me regret this decision with every damn word you dare to utter,” Eris gulped, reigning in his magic to prevent it turning this old lady into a mere pile of ashes. “I am not raising soldiers, nor rulers. I am raising kids, good kids; and when they grow up it will be up to them to decide what they do with the powers they were given,”

Eris stepped back, his eyes still piercing holes through Ms.Crawford's face. “I shall summon you to discuss your tutoring contract, soon. Until then, I hope you'll follow the new educational expectations of this Court. Have I made myself clear?”

The old hag frown turned into a sly grin, barely noticeable. When she turned to leave, she peered at Eris over her shoulder. “I knew you'd be a strong ruler one of these days, Eris Vanserra. Times and methods have changed, yes, but I've taught you well,” She said, then left. Her old, frail legs supported her on her way out of this palace.

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover

[strawburry01]

Strawberry Wine

Summary: Continuation of Northern Attitudes fic, but can be read on its own (extra backstory in We're Going to Be Friends and Enjoy the Silence). Once I figure out how to link shit I will lmao. Hotch has to leave to go home, but neither of them is making it easy.

AN: Sorry I disappeared. I graduated lol! I don't think anyone really noticed but I'll be back for a while now that it's summer :) Sorry if this makes you cry I think I got into some weird cathartic state writing this.

Word Count: 3k

Sure enough, the case was linked to a newly forming underground cult. Luckily you and the BAU team were able to infiltrate a meeting before the next human sacrifice took place, but it wasn’t without weeks of planning every move down to the second. Spencer and you worked well together when it came to preparing every Plan A, B, C, D, all the way to Plan X, and figuring out the best ways to get everyone in and out safely. Spare a few bruises and potential religious affiliated trauma- the team got off pretty uninjured which you did pat yourself on the back on knowing that this poor group didn’t need any more problems to deal with. Not too shabby for a small town bureau like yourself. 

But that’s where the trouble emerged. If the case was closed and the right people arrested, the job was done. The job was done here. They were going to have to go back to Quantico for the next mission, the next case, the next task. 

And you were going to be here. Waiting for the next drunk teen to run a red light. 

All you could think about was the ever-growing elephant in the room of Aaron leaving again. He’d just stumbled back into your life after all these years apart, and god- it felt good to have him back in it. After shifts you would always commiserate over the recent years in your respective forces at the local coffee shop (to the point where the baristas learned his order), and you both just instinctively knew each other on a level the BAU just wouldn’t know. You knew how his eyebrows furrowed when he was thinking, and you knew the line his mouth formed when he heard bad news, you knew how his thumb fit into his balled up fist at his side if he absolutely despised whoever he was talking to, which was usually the moment you’d step in to try and diffuse whatever the situation may be. But also he knew yours. He knew what you needed based on your headache throughout the day, as it unfortunately hadn’t changed much. If it was before 10 am you needed more sleep and he’d make you nap in his car for 20 minutes, if it was between 10 and 2 he knew it was coffee and he’d always magically appear with your order, if it was after 2 pm he’d make you actually eat lunch, and if it was after 8 pm he knew to be dragging you out of the bar. Which unfortunately was the case the last night the team was in town. To celebrate the successful case, as well as saying goodbye, as the two teams had gotten fairly close, everyone went out to the local dive bar in town.

“Where are you?” you furtively texted Aaron on your phone. A shiver running down your spine as you brought a cigarette to your lips trying to focus on the warmth. Aaron hadn’t shown up yet. Sure the party had officially started only half an hour ago, but it was still unlike him to be late. The door of the bar swung out, the janky country music from inside spilling out into the night. 

“What’re you doing out here?” Spencer asked as he stepped outside in line with you. You tap your cigarette, and ash falls into a puddle.

“Just having a smoke,” you say, but the ping from your phone exposes you. Spencer raised an eyebrow and you tried to keep the urge to answer your phone immediately. You mumble a few curse words under your breath as you pulled out your phone.

“Sorry, got a call from Quantico.”, Aaron texted back. You chewed the inside of your cheek. Not the right answer.

“But now you’re on the way…RIGHT?”, you quickly sent back before shoving the phone back in your pocket. You look up to make eye contact with Spencer who can’t help but break into a smirk.

“Hotch not coming?”, he quipped.

“Kid-”, you said, flicking your cigarette out into the ashtray, and placing a hand on Spencer’s bony shoulder, “ you’ve got to keep some of those thoughts inside okay?”, with a reassuring squeeze. He laughed.

“Why do people keep telling me that?”. 

“Because you’re the smartest guy in the FBI who can’t keep his mouth shut,” you replied, just as your phone pinged again. 

“Parking”, he texted back, and you couldn’t help but quickly smile before remembering Spencer was analyzing your every move. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Aaron strode out from the rows of cars. You couldn’t help it, but him in a black t-shirt and slacks nearly had you melting on the spot. He’d been wearing stuffy suits this whole time, and seeing him back in more… peopley clothes, drove you up a wall. 

“Evening you two,” he said with a nod.

“Evening Hotch, how was your call with Garcia?”, Spencer asked as he pushed open the door for his boss. You caught Aaron’s eyes after he not so subtly looked you up and down. Perhaps you were purposeful in choosing your crop top and jeans for the night.

“Mmm, fine,” he answered curtly, his thoughts long having left that conversation. You smile up at Aaron and you briefly catch his mouth waver upwards before turning back to Spencer and stepping into the bar. 

Inside the bar, the two teams had chased anyone else out with their rambunctiousness. 

“You got some catching up to do Aaron,” you said, elbowing his side as the two of you went to the bar. 

“Seems like you do too,” he retorted back, with an eyebrow raised.

“Can I say I was just waiting for you?” you said, which garnered a sharp laugh out of him before he ordered a beer for himself. 

“2 vodka shots for us, and whatever cider you have,” you said once the bartender turned to you.

“You’re trying to kill me,” Aaron said as the bartender set out two shot glasses in front of both of you.

“Do you even hear yourself? Come on Aaron the world is going to be okay if you let loose a little tonight,” you said as you scooted closer to him at the bar, your elbows touching now. Instead of pulling away Aaron stayed in place as he watched the vodka get poured.

“If you insist,” he sighed as he picked up the shotglass in time with you.

“Cheers, to a successful case,” you said. 

“Cheers Y/N”. The two of you downed the alcohol and you couldn’t help but cringe at the way it tore up your throat as it went down. “What happened-you were so confident?” Aaron chuckled as he stacked the glasses.

“I don’t think I’ve done that since college truth be told,” you said as you quickly tried to wash down the aftertaste with the cider.

“Holy shit Hotch did you just take a shot??” Derek shouted from behind you two, a little tipsy already based on his volume, “I didn’t even think you’d come!”. Aaron shrugged as he slowly sipped his beer trying to hold back another laugh.

“Guys you’re making me feel like I’m not fun,” he said, which all the BAU team side-eyed each other at. 

“Damn they just burned you,” you laughed, watching his team all try to justify their reactions. Aaron scoffed with a smile finally drawing across his face.

“Guess I need to go out more,” he said, only loud enough for you to hear.

“I could’ve told you that,” you said as you leaned closer to him, which he once again did not move away from.

The minutes turned into an hour which turned into hours. After a failed game of pool against JJ you were more than a few celebratory shots and ciders in, but you were still aware of your surroundings. You were right on the level of having far too much confidence for your own good…

Most of the local and BAU team had left by now, leaving a few stragglers at a booth with you and Aaron at a table in the corner, to not make the teams feel too stressed about saying the wrong thing. You washed your hands in the sink of the bathroom catching the time on your watch. 1:16 am. God dammit time really wasn’t stopping for you. You ran a hand through your hair to try and mentally psych yourself up. You were realistically never going to see Aaron again after tonight. The team leaves at 10:00 am tomorrow, well today now technically, and there’d never be a reason he’s out here again.

Shit

You marched back out of the bathroom and ordered one last shot for good measure, which Aaron watched you take from the table with a look of being impressed, and slightly worried, but he was starting to feel the alcohol himself. You sauntered back over to the table with you and Aaron, and stood in front of him in his chair with your arms crossed. 

“What is it?” he asked, looking up at you, “what’s got you upset?”. 

“You leave tomorrow,” you said, not being able to stop it from coming out of your mouth. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth thinned.

“I know,”. 

“I don’t want you to leave Aaron,” you blurted out before sighing. You looked over at the booth where everyone was still deeply wrapped up in their own conversation. The table was far enough in the corner amongst all the regulars trickling back in they’d never notice. You took a step between Aaron’s legs and his hands as if second nature moved to hold your thighs, keeping you in place. You slid a hand of your own to his cheek as you pursed your mouth into a frustrated corner. “It’s just- what the fuck are the odds even, I just-” you tried to rationalize out loud as your thumb brushed his cheek. He wasn’t that young boy anymore you met in university, but you couldn’t help but always see him just like that. A snapshot of a simpler time for both of you. Aaron moved a hand from steadying your thigh to being placed over your hand.

“I know,”. 

“You don’t think it means anything?”.

Aaron tighten his hand over yours, linking his fingers through yours and bringing it to his lips, gently kissing your hand.

“I don’t know,”. 

“My house is 2 blocks away,” you said. Your voice sounded grave, despite the alcohol still in your system. The reality of your situation slowly falling upon both of you. Aaron silently stood up and left his hand interlocked with yours, silently giving you the okay to take you both back there. JJ only had to kick Derek under the table once to keep him from shouting out at the both of you as you stepped by.

In the parking lot you gestured to Aaron’s car and opened your mouth, but before you could speak-

“I packed all my stuff. I’ll just get it in the morning,” he said. You silently nodded as your grip on his hand tightened. He tightened his own hold in return. 

The walk to yours was silent. What was there to say? What could’ve made this any better? It was a comfortable silence despite it all.

“Are you excited to see Jack?” you finally said breaking the silence, not being able to handle it anymore. You had been pretty surprised when Aaron told you he had a son back home, making you feel all the more selfish for wanting him to stay here.

“Of course. He usually has a lot of fun with his aunt though,” Aaron said with a small smile, thinking of his son.

“Maybe I’ll meet him someday,” you mused. 

“I’m sure he’d love you,” Aaron nodded into the night, brushing his thumb over the corner of your hand. You couldn’t help but softly smile at this.

This could be every night. Simple, quiet, nice. He admitted himself he was less stressed out here. He could bring Jack out here. There were some nice schools in the district. You and Aaron would be on the same team, both getting off before nightfall and being able to go home to make dinner at a decent time before putting Jack to bed. 

You paused in front of your house, waking yourself up from the fantasy.

“Do you think I’m stupid? Are you just doing this out of pity?” you asked as you turned to look at Aaron, your insecurities starting to spill out as you realized how ridiculous a fantasy you’d crafted in your head. Before you knew what was happening Aaron had grabbed your face and pressed his lips onto yours. He was aggressive, but in a good way. You couldn’t help but lean forward into him as you wrapped your arms around him. You broke away for air as your laid your head on his chest, hearing his heart thumping as he gently traced an arm around your back, with the other hand resting on the back of your head.

“No,” he finally said, which caused you to laugh as you stood up, moving off of him, as you fiddled with your keys to get inside. You finally swung open the door and kicked some spare shoes into a haphazard pile as you stepped inside. 

“Welcome welcome,” you mumbled as you flicked on a few lights, “it’s not much, but it’s home,”. Aaron stood in the entrance as he took in the certainly cozy home. “Do you want tea, water, or anything?” you asked, trying to remember in your waning alcohol haze what home owners offered people. Aaron smiled and shook his head as he kicked off his own shoes. You sighed the breath you didn’t know you were holding out of your nose as you tried to figure out the next move. 

“You’re overthinking Y/N,” Aaron said, recognizing the contortions your face went through when this was happening. He stepped forward and held your face in his hands again, tilting your head up so he could look at you. 

“Perhaps,” you said before yawning, “fuck I’m sorry. I’m not usually up this late,”. 

“I’m not either- believe it or not,” Aaron said with a soft smile, “do you want to just go to bed?”. You nodded, and Aaron dropped his hands, letting you lead the way to your room. Luckily you’d just cleaned it so all the clothes were at least in a drawer. Entering the bedroom you turned, once again having a moment of how surreal it was to be in a bedroom, your bedroom, with Aaron. 

“I don’t- did you want to- like - um-” you stammered as you resorted to gesturing to the bed awkwardly, “fuck?” you gave up and spouted out.

“Do you want to?” Aaron asked as he stepped closer to you. Like a magnet you drew close to him and wrapped your arms around him.

“I don’t think I do…I just want to be with you tonight,” you said quietly, which might as well have echoed throughout the silent house. Aaron ran a hand down your hair and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I feel the exact same” he hummed.

“Alright alright,” you huffed as you stood back, “but get comfortable at least. I’m going to change you can uh, look if you want I guess,” you said, which got a laugh out of Aaron as he did watch you rummage through your drawers for a shirt to sleep in. He took off his own shirt and pants and left them folded on the nightstand as he slid into your bed. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t blushing. You threw your clothes off as you put on an oversized band shirt, feeling Aaron’s eyes watching you from bed the whole time. 

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” he said as you moved to the side of the bed. He was referencing the large star constellations you had on each shoulder. 

“Yeah, I got them a few years ago…” you said as you slowly moved in next to him, instantly feeling and appreciating his heat. You hit the light beside you, engulfing the room in total darkness. You felt Aaron’s arm weave under you, and after a little adjusting you were both on your sides facing each other.

“So this is it,” you murmured. It wasn’t some sort of rhetorical question anymore. You knew this was it.

“I have loved every moment getting to be out here with you Y/N, and I’m truly so grateful I got you in my life again, even if it was only a few weeks,” Aaron said slowly tightening his grip on your waist, bringing you closer. You placed a hand on his chest and aimlessly traced along it.

“I have too Aaron,” you sighed, “maybe in another life this wasn’t just some stupid Shakespearan drama,”. He chuckled and you felt his chest move as he did so.

“I really wish I was in that other life,” he softly admitted.

“I do too,” you said. There were a few seconds of silence before you spoke up again, “If you wake me up when you leave- I’ll never let you escape this room I’m afraid,”. He gently kissed your forehead,

“I know,”. 

There were a few more moments of silence as you two readjusted, this time with him holding you close behind you as you were spooned up against him. You shut your eyes and were slowly drifting into sleep before Aaron said the last things he would say to you.

“I love you,”. You shifted and precariously kissed his cheek.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, before falling into sleep. 

It was another cold morning in your room. You rubbed your eyes as a headache began in your head. You spotted a glass of water with 2 Advil on your nightstand, and that was all Aaron left. You sighed, as you swallowed the pills and water, before retreating back under the covers.

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

hi there! im wondering if you have any fics recs for an au where peter doesnt get blipped? or also any OP/insanely strong peter fics you enjoy? i’m fairly new to reading spiderman fics and would love any recs! thanks!! 💖

Hi!! Sorry it took so long to respond. It's been a busy couple of weeks!! But I totally have a few BAMF Peter Parker fics in my bookmarks! And one very good fic where neither Tony nor Peter blipped.

🕸 to fear and to fly by idyllic_dae Rated T

“You’ll come to learn that there’s only one thing worse than having nothing.” Trying to hold onto his fight, Peter shoots back, “Yeah? And what’s that?” “To have nothing, after being able to believe you could have everything.”

The streets are dirty, crowded, and the jagged bumps in the asphalt are hardly comfortable to sleep on. They’re home, though.

Peter is just about finished with New York City. It’s gotten impossibly harder to find even a scrap of food, and what little belongings he does have are unlikely to keep him alive through the winter. And the memories. God, the painful memories here.

So he saves up. Makes a plan to get out of there.

Then, somehow, he accidentally saves Tony fucking Stark from a gang of eight mercenaries, and the majestic plan disintegrates into ash.

The worst part about it, he knows, isn’t even that he met Tony. It’s that Tony met him.

^^ This one is incomplete still but it is SO VERY GOOD.

🕸 Trojan Teenager by Sara (ctrsara) @ctrsara Rated T

Tony, Peter, Happy, and Daren make a trip to California during Peter's Spring Break, both to get some business done at SI-Malibu, and to look into another hotspot for the human trafficking ring they've been trying to break down. As it often does when self-sacrificial Spider-kids are involved, things go a little off the rails.

^^ This one is part of a series but can be read alone. However, I highly recommend the whole series! It's crazy creative and super well-written.

🕸 turn back the clock (and I'll try again in the morning) by madasthesea @madasthesea Rated T

Peter gets stuck in a time loop. In it, he lives through some of his worst nightmares, only to wake up that morning and have no one remember. He needs Tony to help him get through.

And if that isn't bad enough, his identity is revealed over and over, every day.

^^ This fic has me on the edge of my seat every time I read it, I swear

🕸 The Worst Field Trip by mak5258 Rated G

Peter's kidnapping (Before You Go, chapter 40) from other POVs.

^^ This is part of a much larger series but can be read alone. It's sooo good! If you're looking for a longer read, it's parent fic, Before You Go , is also great.

🕸Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spider by Bergen Rated T

“Tony fucking Stark,” Clint says, and he points at the black smoke. “Did you blow up that base, you piece of shit?” “Absolutely not. I almost got blown up with it.” Clint is not alone. A few yards behind him, a scrawny figure halts and squints at Tony from underneath a frayed baseball cap. Sunken eyes. Dressed in a black undershirt and cargo pants. Can’t be older than eighteen. “What are you doing here?” Clint jerks his head at the boy behind him. “SHIELD mission. Extracting a hostage.” Tony glances back at the teenager, whose face has now morphed into something entirely impassive. “He seems thrilled about his rescue.” — Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

^^ Oh my goodness. This one has a super strong stoic Peter, who also manages to (eventually) be so super soft. I love everything by the writer, honestly.

🕸 Peter Protection Protocol by JAWorley Rated T

"The hell?" Knife guy breathes. He looks at Tony, and then back at the suit. Ned can hear the wheels spinning in his mind. If I have Iron Man, then who is in the suit?

There’s silence for a second, then another. Everyone waits with baited breath until Peter’s tinny voice comes out of the suit. “Give me back my Tony.”

OR

Peter’s class barely makes it in the door to Stark Industries for their field trip when they find themselves in a hostage situation. Peter and Ned know exactly what they have to do to save Mr. Stark from the bad guys. A short fic that’s supposed to be fun and easy to read. Not crack, just fun. Minor angst near the end.

^^ This author has SO MANY super fun and amazing fics, but this one definitely fits the BAMF Peter Parker bill.

Insane Mistakes Everybody Makes by Fluencca Rated T

The Avengers' kids are kidnapped for leverage and ransom. Tony tries to find them, while Peter--who somehow is part of this mess--tries to keep the kids safe.

^^ Love this one so much. It has all the amazing BAMF Peter.

🕸 Survivor's Guide to The Galaxy by fanfic1892 Rated T

Space rock crunched under Peter’s armor-clad feet and he dropped his hand from his eyes, turning to Tony. "Mister Stark," he said softly. "What do we do now?”

The question was entirely reasonable, Tony supposed, but being the one expected to answer it was like an infinity gauntlet punch to the gut. (Now there was a unit of measurement he could submit to the CGPM.)

Or: In a billion-to-one cosmic fluke, Tony and Peter both survive the snap and are left alone on Titan with an alien spaceship and no plan in sight. Peter’s presence brings Tony to make a tough call: diverting their course away from Earth in search of food and fuel. With the galaxy in shambles and no clear route home, the two survivors must carve out a path of their own somewhere in the great infinity.

^^ This is one of my favorite fics of all time.

As usual, I could go on for days with fics I love and would love to share with others. But we'll stop here for now. lol. And look! I didn't even self-promote this time! Thank you so much for asking. Don't forget to leave kudos and comments!!

[absolutewhore101]

hi hi! so im not sure if you're taking requests? but if you are could you do one that's from the voicemail one? where she gets calums hoodie in the mail & leaves him a voicemail this time? thank you so much!! 💜

Another Voicemail

A/N: bonus points if you catch the taylor reference at the end <3

Pairing: Calum Hood x GN!Reader

Summary: sleeping without you is difficult, but your voice makes everything better

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 740

Minors DNI

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

It had been two weeks since Calum had left you that voicemail, and though you still talked every day, there had yet to be a night where you hadn’t fallen asleep to it. 

The sound of his voice, as broken and distorted as it was through the phone, was the only thing comforting you enough to fall asleep. 

There were still several weeks left in the tour, and you were anxiously awaiting Calum’s hoodie to arrive in the mail like he’d promised. 

But then a third week passed, and nothing. No hoodie, no new voicemails, nothing. 

You weren’t sure what had happened. Did it get lost in the mail? Has he not sent it out yet? Does he not plan on sending it to you?

You quickly dismissed those thoughts, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to go back on his promise for any reason. In all reality, they probably just hadn’t come across a place where he could send it from.

Your phone rang from across the room, and you quickly walked over to answer it, slightly confused to see Ashton’s face lighting up your screen instead of Calum’s. 

“Hello?” You said.

“Hey! How’s it goin’?” He asked, much too casual for your liking. 

“Fine.” You said suspiciously. “What’s going on? You sound weird.”

“I said four words and I sound weird?” He asked.

“Yes.”

There was a pause before he spoke again.

“Alright, fine. Calum hasn’t been sleeping that well. He sent his hoodie out to you a week ago and you haven’t gotten it yet and he’s being, like, weirdly anxious about it.”

You nodded. So he had sent it out. Why wasn’t it here yet?

You were about to answer when your doorbell rang.

“Hang on, Ash, I’ll be right back.” Setting your phone down on the counter, you made your way over to the door, opening it to see a small box left on your doorstep. You smiled. 

Perfect timing.

“Just out of curiosity, what time is it where you guys are?” You asked Ashton. 

“Uhh, about 11 PM. Why? Was that the door?”

“Yep! Don’t tell him, but his sweatshirt just got here.” You said, picking it up out of the box, immediately bringing it to your face to take in the smell of him. 

“Nice!” Ashton replied. “So I'll let you go so you can talk to him.”

You said your goodbyes before hanging up, and you immediately dialed Calum’s number. 

He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, sweets.” He said. You could tell that he was doing his best to sound excited, but the exhaustion was clear in his voice. 

“Hi, baby.” You said quietly. “Ash said you’re not sleeping too well. Are you doing okay?”

“‘Course he ratted me out. I’m fine, honey, just miss you is all. Have you gotten my sweatshirt yet? I sent it out like a week ago.”

“It got here about 5 minutes ago.” You chuckled. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t already wearing it.” 

Calum smiled to himself, the image of you in his sweatshirt bringing him more happiness than he could explain. 

“Good. I know it’ll help you with me not being there, and all.” He said. 

“Hey, I have an idea.” You said. 

“What’s that?”

You smiled.

“I’m gonna hang up, and when I call you again…”

“Don’t answer?” He guessed, chuckling at your antics.

“Correct. I love you, Cal, so much more than I could ever tell you.”

“I love you, too, sweets. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

You smiled, hanging up. You took a few moments to decide what you were going to say before redialing his number, listening as it eventually went to his voicemail. 

“Hi, baby. I know you’re having a hard time sleeping right now, but just know that we’ll get to see each other soon. Hopefully much sooner than we currently have to wait. I just want you to know how much I love you, because I don’t think I could ever fully express it in words. I know people tend to say that they love someone to the moon, but I love you all the way to Saturn. I’ll send you something of mine, just so you don’t miss me too much. Get some sleep, honey, you need it. I love you.”

By the end of your voicemail, Calum was sound asleep, a soft smile decroating his face.

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

Tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC headcanon generator

Thanks @illarian-rambling for this fun tag and @evilgabe29 here!

Rules: use this headcanon generator to generate some headcanons for your OCs! How accurate are they?

Lexi sleeps in until noon.

Hahahaha no. She is a schedule person. This is too late.

Maddie does intricate and expensive cosplays.

Hm. I can see this, but not expensive. At least, not yet. She chooses easier characters to cosplay.

Ash likes to eat straight coffee beans.

Oh my God this is canon now. Ash has two settings for food: bland and weird as shit.

Gwen is oblivous to any and all romantic interest someone may show her.

Nah, she usually has a feeling. Akash made a dorky comment and she thought he was flirting. He did have a thing for her, and she picked up on that.

Noelle could easily survive The Hunger Games.

If she was the only one with powers, absolutely. Not including that... She could do it, honestly, but not easily.

Rose wakes up on November 1st and starts decorating for Christmas.

Rose is a live in the moment person. Planning for the future? Nah.

Kelsey can play the piano.

Hm. I'm not sure. I feel like she conceptually knows how to play, and could get a few melodies out, but nothing fancy.

Robbie has not showered in two and a half weeks.

If his healthcare parents weren't there, and Akash wasn't there.... Yes.

Akash shops exclusivaly at Claire's.

Hahaha I want to say yes because it's funny but no this isn't true given his wardrobe.

Jedi is constantly singing for no reason.

Unfortunately no this isn't true. The image is too funny, but I can't see him do more than hum or whistle if trying to keep himself occupied.

Carmen believes in ghosts and insists on trying to summon one at every sleepover.

Carmen might believe in ghosts, honestly, but I doubt she'd try to summon one. But the most unbelievable part of this is the implication that Carmen has enough friends to go to sleepovers.

If the sorce media was a musical, Carla would be the one character that asks why everyone is singing.

Nah, I want Carla to have a solo.

George is a great artist.

Hahaha no.

Hye-Jin is a dog person.

She's a reptile person.

This was fun. I'll tag @mk-writes-stuff @elsie-writes @somethingclevermahogony @dyrewrites @ceph-the-ghost-writer

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites

[ghost-proofbaby]

GHOST'S "OPEN BAR" 3K CELEBRATION

as a way to say thank you and show my appreciation for hitting 3k, i decided it's about time for a party around here... don't y'all? and what better way to get a party started than to get a little boozy! (haha get it? BOOzy? because ghost? no? okay i'll stop.)

THE RULES: below the cut will be a fun menu filled to the brim with delicious drinks! send me an ask with your order, and as long as it follows my general rules, i'll whip it right up for you! the idea here is each drink represents a different general trope, and you fill in the blanks with a character of your choosing (see below) as well as general ideas! below will be examples of requests. i will being doing as many of these requests as possible for this week, from april 3rd (today) to april 8th. starting april 9th, i have a different fun week planned for us to keep the party going, and will announce it on sunday <3

WHO I'M WRITING FOR: eddie munson, steve harrington, spencer reid, and joel miller. you must specify the character in your request, or i will not complete it.

EXAMPLES OF REQUESTS: "hi! can i get a filthy martini with eddie munson? maybe some overstimulation involving toys?" or "can i get a flute of champagne with joel miller? maybe what the end of the day looks like in the QZ!" you can get as specific or as vague as you'd like! these are just examples :-)

also, before we dive in, i've also filled this post with easter eggs towards just a few of my favorite fics/authors (and a couple of my own). i have added a link over each reference in case any of them catch your eye. i wouldn't have hit this milestone without all of these wonderful people who inspire and support me, and there was no way i wasn't sending a nod their way during this event. i love y'all endlessly <3

alright, onwards with the party bus, friends!

THE MENU:

🥃 WILLOW'S OLD-FASHIONED: angst

long week? a new job babysitting a rockstar that just cannot and will not behave? has that blonde coworker you just wish you could slap into the next week gotten on your final nerve? look no further! sit back and cry relax with one of our famous old-fashioneds!

🍷 ASH'S SPECIAL: hurt/comfort

whiskey and bitters not your cup of tea? be still your old heart! no worries! relax like the world's ending from your long week with a good book and a glass of our famous Sauvignon Blanc instead!

🥂 FLUTE OF CHAMPAGNE: fluff

sip on some of our top shelf Dom Perignon and get lost in the bubbles! this classic will have you feeling so good, it's almost as if you've traded bodies with your arch nemesis in a freaky friday ordeal. just don't think too hard about his... mechanics below the belt... or this drink might be a boner killer. let the good times roll!

🍸 FILTHY MARTINI: smut

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☕ CUP OF SUNSHINE: mutual pining

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🥐 KARMEN'S CROISSANTS: exes to lovers

be sure to grab a snack during your night out! these croissants are absolutely to die for (just don't fall for your reaper, folks!). enjoy this lamented pastry in our favorite armchair by the window while enjoying one of our many books laid out for your pleasure!

easter eggs i'm unable to tag (aka banner):

the "yes" policy

and my own twenty-four hours

also, filthy martini is fully a shout out to the legend behind the man of the hour who has inspired a large majority of these fics as well as my own - mr. joseph quinn himself. may all his martinis be the absolute filthiest.

once again, thank you all. i will never know how to repay the kindness showed to me, so i will do what i do best - write. also, please keep in mind i have no idea how many requests i will receive. my hope is to complete as many as possible without driving myself to absolute madness; please be kind and patient with me <3

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 75 (Nearing Delivery and There's a Fancy Cake!)

As with all her pregnancies, Heather worked hard up to her due date. Running Buttercup Pet Clinic meant very little time off and she was always tired, but she was more confident than ever in her team's ability to hold things down when she took some family leave after delivery.

She'd begun making ambrosia treats to sell, giving a few to Conrad so he'd have them when he returned to the lighthouse. But as ever, he was in no hurry to chase down ghosts and death, and it had been months since the Ambrosia Society's last newsletter. With Heather so close to giving birth and Ash about to celebrate his birthday, Conrad was happiest sticking close to home.

The did pay a quick visit to her family in Henford-on-Bagley, where they picked up a death flower from her mother's last batch so they could start growing a bush on their own. "Thank you for this," Heather said when they arrived. "We're too busy with life and work to wait for our plants to grow, and our upstairs hallway isn't big enough for a cherry tree."

"Take as many as you need," said her mother as River handed her a rare, spiky red and black plant. "It'll be winter soon, and you might want to grow the plant outdoors to give it as much natural light as possible."

One evening, Heather returned home to see a woman peering in one of their windows. "Hello?"

Startled, the woman gave a half smile and rushed toward the square. "The paint job is lovely," she called, but in a moment she was gone.

Inside, Heather found Conrad in the living room watching TV. Right away, he could tell something was bothering her. "What is it?"

"There was a woman looking in our kitchen window."

"What are you talking about?" He jumped up to take a look.

"She's gone. I said hello and I was going to ask her what she was doing but she took off and said she liked our paint job. But I swear to you, she was looking into the house."

"What did she look like?"

"Tall, pretty, blonde hair, black shirt, and she had a Selvadoradian accent...I think."

"Maybe it was a tourist who got lost on their way from the creek," he said, trying to calm her anxious nerves. "I don't think there's anything to worry about, but I'll see if anyone's filed a similar report at the station tomorrow."

They were both unnerved but life went on until it was time to celebrate Ash's birthday. Heather and Conrad were planning to host Harvestfest at home later that week, so they decided to forgo a large party.

"I wish I had the energy to throw something bigger for him," Heather lamented. "But with the Landgraabs in Oasis Springs for the long weekend, I'm happy not to hear Nancy moan about how much sugar you get in a piece of cake."

"He'll just be happy to have the cake," Conrad assured her before he stood to bring Ash to the candlelit dessert - a tiered confection Heather had baked to improve her gourmet cooking skill. "He'll have all the time in the world to hang out with his family and friends, and plenty more birthdays."

Heather smiled as her phone rang. (It was her family. Bad timing made plot!) "Hey Mom, are you guys ready to sing Happy Birthday with us?"

"Of course! Where's the birthday boy? How are you feeling?"

"I feel good. Tired, but good. This one kicks way more than Ash or Jett ever did. It's wild! Oh, they're coming downstairs now."

Conrad brought Ash to the kitchen and hoisted him up, and Ash blew out his candles with a big gust from his small lungs. Conrad, Heather, and her family sang and cheered.

Ash was growing up before their eyes. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

Sorry, psych! Short post coming tomorrow, all about Ash but not technically storyline. I put myself on a time crunch to get certain posts out by a certain deadline I set for me, so I'm squeezing in a quick little Ash hype post to give us a taste without making another post too long and splitting it, pushing certain events past when I want them to post. He'll be a kid tomorrow, I promise!

[watcheraurora]

Break

I found out sometime within the last year that people in the fandom interpret Mumbo as a vampire and I kinda love that 3.05k words

CW: consensual vampire feeding, lots of mentions of blood but nothing super graphic, some sensuality between characters, some discussions of addiction

—

Mumbo Jumbo

Mumbo dusted off his hands and looked around, a satisfied smile on his face. The vault was done. Perfect. Protected and private. With no way for Grian to get in without breaking blocks. Mumbo knew the trick to get in, of course, but he wasn't telling Grian.

He glanced up at the tinted glass panels in the ceiling. It allowed him to see the outside without the sunlight actually coming through and burning him.

He took a deep breath. He'd been going, going, going for a long time with next to no stopping. He was planning on taking a break as soon as the vault was done. And now it was.

He crossed the vault floor to the bed he'd set up for himself and glanced up at the tinted glass again.

Slow and careful, he reached under the collar and necktie of his suit and withdrew his talisman. A gift from Grian not long after he joined the server. The necklace was a sturdy iron chain with a red crystal charm. The crystal was smelted redstone, according to Grian. Although Mumbo had tried smelting redstone dust and it didn't actually do anything. So he chose not to ask. Grian worked in mysterious ways that no one could ever seem to figure out or replicate.

The talisman provided him protection from the sun. Let him walk around during the day indefinitely without fear of turning to ash. What once required a secret potion recipe that he'd have to constantly brew and replenish to make sure he never ran out of time no longer took that much effort.

If nothing else, he was indebted to Grian for life for that one.

Ready to sling it back on at a moment's notice, Mumbo took the talisman off. He braced, waiting for the sunlight to breach the tinted glass and fry him, giving him a sunburn if he couldn't get the talisman back on fast enough.

Nothing happened. He didn't start burning. His skin didn't begin to flake or turn to ash. He was fine.

"Tinted glass works," he noted to himself.

Quickly, he surrounded his bed with trapdoors for an extra layer of protection and proper coffin etiquette before climbing inside. He sent a quick message to Grian.

Time for my break. Tell the other Hermits I won't be active for a while. And I'll see you when I see you, I suppose.

He was just starting to settle in properly when Grian's reply came.

Enjoy your break, mate. We'll miss you. I'll pass the word on. See you when it's over.

Mumbo smiled. "I'll miss you too, bud," he said softly to himself before burrowing down. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. Maybe he'd wake up in six months, maybe a year. Who knew? His alarm was set to ring a year and a day from now, to keep him from oversleeping. But he needed this time to recharge.

Sleep swept over him faster than he'd ever experienced before. A testament to his exhaustion.

And Mumbo sunk deep into unconsciousness.

—

Grian

Grian landed on top of Mumbo's vault, peering inside through the tinted glass panels in the ceiling.

Once-a-week he stopped by just to check on things. The vault was sealed so well that he hadn't even seen dust coating the tops of the storage chests yet.

Carefully, Grian plopped down on the roof and lounged back, letting the sun warm his wings. "Hey Mumbo," he greeted casually. Knowing his friend couldn't hear him. "Just wanted to stop by and say hello. Give you the weekly update. It's been a lot quieter since the Empires crew left. Sorry I was gone for a few weeks, by the way. Dunno if I apologized for that yet. Can't remember. It was nice to see them. Spend time with old friends. Wish you'd been here for it." Grian cleared his throat.

"Anyway. Tango's back in his hole. We can't get him out. He's determined to finish that game. Scar's tried everything. He occasionally manages to get Tango to leave for a brief excursion to look at new things, but it never lasts.

"Er... what else... Doc's perimeter is still big and empty. Well. Empty-ish. Who knows what he actually gets up to in a big square pit. Er... Scar's theme park is absolutely incredible. Making a lot of progress there. My rocks are still rocky. Impulse has taken on too many projects, as usual. Also, Cub and Cleo are both making museums to commemorate the season. It's becoming a funny little competition. It's going to be so much fun."

He took a deep breath and looked down at the coffin that hadn't moved in months. "Miss you, bud," he finished.

Pushing to his feet, he adjusted his wings and took off. Back across the bridge toward his own base. The towering rocks hung as they always did.

On the first building he'd made, the one with the Greek columns, he sat himself on his bed and typed out a message.

Whenever you're ready, Pearl.

After a moment, he heard the soft fluttering of wings. Pearl's lunar moth wings folded back, twitching lightly. "Hi," she greeted with her usual smile.

"Hello," Grian replied.

"Ready?"

Grian nodded.

"I brought more of Scar's cookies." She set a stack of them on the chest next to Grian's bed.

"Thanks," he replied.

"You don't have to keep doing this, you know. He'll be fine."

"You've never seen him wake up after this long asleep." Grian rolled up the sleeve of his jumper. "He's going to need it."

Pearl didn't assume her usual position standing next to where he sat, instead pausing near the chest. "G, I'm worried," she said.

"What for?"

She raised a brow sarcastically. "Grian. You know what you're like, compared to the rest of us."

"You don't want him to drink Watcher blood."

Pearl made a face. "I'm scared that if he does, nothing else will ever satisfy him. You're the only person on the server with blood that potent. I don't want him to get addicted."

Grian took a turn to raise a brow. "You think he's never had my blood before?"

"I'm not answering that," Pearl said decisively. "Because I don't want to know. Don't give me any context for that. Ever." She shook her head.

Grian stuck his arm out. "He'll need as much nutrients and magic as he can get to replenish when he wakes up. Might as well be from the most magic-rich blood on the server."

Pearl took a deep breath and sighed before opening another of Grian's haphazard chests and rifling through it for the equipment to draw his blood. "If he gets addicted, it's your fault and I don't want you complaining to me about it," she said, defeated and a little snappish.

"Yes ma'am," Grian replied with a smirk.

"Lean back and relax," Pearl muttered.

—

Mumbo Jumbo

When he opened his eyes, the coffin was dark. When he opened the coffin, the vault was dark. Stars shone through the tinted glass ceiling.

He pulled himself out of the coffin and stretched. His body was stiff as a board and his joints were sticky.

Once he was loosened up enough to walk, he pulled the talisman on and tucked it down the front of his shirt. The chain and crystal were frigid against his chest—and coming from a vampire who generated no body heat and was quite cold himself, that was saying a lot.

He waited only a few moments for the daylight to return. A little message pinging the server that BdoubleO100 had slept. Followed by a general message from Bdubs to someone else to stop breaking his bed. Mumbo chuckled. Some things never changed.

He checked his calendar. He'd been asleep for nearly a year.

No wonder his mouth was dry. But at least he beat his alarm.

He left his vault and looked across the bridge toward Grian's base. It had made quite a lot of progress, but was currently sitting silent.

Mumbo shook his shoulders, releasing his bat wings. He could have walked, but the wings needed the stretch too.

He glided from his vault to Grian's base. "G?" he called, looking around the Greek building. "Grian!" Where the floor of the building ended, a large cavern opened up. The enormous rock was hollow. "Grian, where are you?" He moved to go search the other rocks—only to yelp.

Pearl was rifling through one of Grian's open chests. Mumbo hadn't even noticed her there. "He's not here, mate," Pearl said. He realized she was organizing the chest, dressed in her cleaning lady overalls, her moth wings opening and closing slowly.

"What—what do you mean? What do you mean Grian's not here? How's he not here? Is he in the shopping district?"

"No. He's not on Hermitcraft at all. He had to go home."

Mumbo's eyebrows scrunched. "What do you mean? Hermitcraft is his home."

Pearl scoffed. "Then you don't know him as well as you think you do, mate," she muttered, finishing organizing the chest. She stood up. "When did you meet him? Before he came here?"

"Yeah. But... not by much."

She bounced her eyebrows but said nothing. Instead, she beckoned him with a wave to follow her. He did, trailing after her deeper into the hollow rock to where a shulker box sat, hidden in shadow. "Here," she said, pointing at it. "He stockpiled these for you. For when you woke up."

Curious, Mumbo opened the shulker box.

It was surrounded on all sides by packed ice. Unmelting.

Resting in the middle was ten bags of blood. A purple eye was stamped into the plastic of every single one.

Mumbo felt his fangs aching just at the sight of it. All of the Hermits were kind enough to donate some blood to him whenever he needed it—and he tried to stretch that time out as long as possible—but after nearly a year of being unconscious, his control was shaky.

He snatched one up, popped the spout open, and drank the whole thing down to its last drop. Clarity flooded his mind that he hadn't really realized had been foggy until the fog was gone.

"Okay. I can think now," he said. "What do you mean he's gone home?"

"Just surprised he never told you."

"What, that he's a Watcher?"

"No, I knew you knew that," Pearl retorted. "I'm surprised he never told you that home for him is still there. With the Watchers."

"But... he never leaves."

"That you've noticed," Pearl muttered under her breath, dripping with sarcasm. "Did you really think all his holidays were just him jaunting over to some friends' servers to lie on a beach or see what they've built?"

"... Yeah?"

"Then that's on you, buddy." Pearl dusted off the knees of her coveralls. "He goes home to the Watchers. He likes spending most of his time on Hermitcraft, but he has to go home sometimes."

"He told me he doesn't care much for them." Mumbo closed the shulker box, picked it up and put it away in his inventory.

"He doesn't. But he loves their stronghold. Their base, if you will." Pearl looked around. "He'll be back in a week or so. Try not to get addicted to his blood, yeah?"

"What do you mean?"

"He has the most magic-dense blood on the server. No one else here is as powerful as a Watcher. And that level of magic in someone's blood can help you get back to yourself nicely, but don't let your brain get dependent on it."

"Don't drink all his blood at once, is what you're saying," Mumbo said.

"Basically." She looked around. "Grian wasn't the only one stockpiling while you were gone. I have some for you too. So does Iskall and Impulse. I've got them all at my base. Grian was the only one who kept his here since your base is so close. Come with me. I'll pass them along."

"Oh. Yeah. Alright then."

—

Grian

A general ping went across the server. Mumbo has reached the following goal—

Grian didn't bother reading the rest. Mumbo was back!

He bolted, unfurling his wings and beating them at the air to take off. Liftoff for a human-sized creature with wings took a lot of strength and energy. Rockets were best as a way to take off and conserve energy, but sometimes he was fine just to use his wings.

He flew to Mumbo's base. Mumbo wasn't there. The achievement was something he must have done elsewhere.

Grian hurriedly put together a welcome-home party of decorations. Music, bottles o' enchanting, flowers, table and chairs. Possibly too many of his own heads on dripstone like a strange attempt at fairy lights.

And he waited.

After a while, Mumbo returned. "You're back! Yeah!" Grian screeched in excitement. Mumbo grinned, a little baffled, his fangs shining in the light of the bottles o' enchanting shattering into magic.

"Hey, I got back and you were the one gone!" Mumbo protested. "I had to get your delivery from Pearl."

"Oh she did give you the blood bags, then?"

"Yeah. I appreciated it."

Grian smiled, preening a little at the warmth in Mumbo's words. "I'm glad it could help."

"It did. Not quite as good chilled, but I appreciated it nonetheless."

"I mean, if you need some warm, fresh, all you have to do is ask."

Mumbo raised a brow. "You sure you're ready for that?" Playfulness colored his tone.

Grian laughed. "I'm fine. Last time I drew blood was months ago at this point and I recover faster than the average mortal. Since, y'know, I'm not mortal."

Mumbo chuckled at that. "Well, I, uh... I'd appreciate something fresh, actually."

"Just ask."

"Can I? Please?"

"Always."

In a blur of movement that only came with a vampire's speed, Grian felt the wind knocked out of him as he sunk just slightly into the honey-and-slime-block back of the vault door. His wings vanished as the impact started—Watcher power—to protect them from being shattered.

Mumbo towered over Grian, his eyes fully black and his fangs more prominent than they'd been a moment ago. "I know what you're like, Grian," Mumbo said, voice low. "Don't squirm."

Grian wasn't an Avian before he became a Watcher. His wings were Watcher wings, not Avian ones. He was a restless person, but he wasn't as flighty as an actual Avian. Still, the gleam in Mumbo's eye made a shiver pass down Grian's spine. "I'll try."

"It'll just hurt more if you can't hold still. You know that."

Before Grian could say anything, Mumbo bent down and hovered just over Grian's neck. His right hand—which had previously been pinning Grian's shoulder to the squishy, sticky blocks behind them—cupped Grian's jaw and tilted his head out of the way, stretching his neck a little more taut and freeing up some room for Mumbo to put his head.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Mmhmm."

A sharp, stabbing pain shot through Grian as Mumbo bit him. His body went rigid. But the pain passed quickly and he was able to relax. A flood of calm rushed over his systems from the natural sedative that coated Mumbo's fangs. Grian felt his eyes roll back a little, his head flopping almost to his opposite shoulder. His hand that had been freed from Mumbo's grip on his shoulder reached up and curled around the collar of Mumbo's suit and shirt. His fingertips brushed the cold metal of the talisman necklace.

Mumbo pressed a little closer, a quiet sigh escaping his nose. Grian's whole body rolled, seeking the contact. Mumbo's grip on Grian's other shoulder tightened, pushing the both of them more firmly against the honey and slime blocks. His other hand released Grian's jaw and slowly explored lower, coming to rest over Grian's pounding heart.

Mumbo's heart didn't beat. Grian couldn't feel Mumbo's exhilaration the same way Mumbo could feel Grian's. But Grian was a Watcher that could feed on any emotion from any sentient being less powerful than his kind. He drank in Mumbo's exhilaration as Mumbo drank his blood. It tasted like candy that fizzled and popped in the mouth. Zinging around as he took it in. Mumbo lost nothing by Grian feeding off him. But Grian could feel the pulling sensation of Mumbo sucking his blood.

His fist tightened around Mumbo's collar, pulling them closer. His other shoulder was still pinned to the wall by Mumbo, but his hand could move enough to cup Mumbo's hip and drag them together.

Mumbo hummed in contentment. His head tilted a little, drinking deeper. Grian couldn't stop the noise that left his throat. Not quite a moan, but easily mistaken for one. He pretended he didn't feel Mumbo smiling against the sensitive skin of his neck.

It was over as quickly as it had begun. The black of Mumbo's eyes had retreated, revealing the natural red. He'd always been good at feeding cleanly. All he did was lick a trace of blood off his lower lip and fangs, and the evidence that he'd drank at all was gone.

His grip on Grian's shoulder slowly eased off before vanishing. He took a step back. The lack of pressure against Grian made him blink in confusion for a moment before his mind caught up. The Watcher magic in his body fought off the sedative quickly, bringing him back to himself. Grian swallowed thickly. "Better?" he asked.

"Yeah. You alright? You, uh... went a little hazy there." Mumbo's left hand closed over the puncture wounds in the right side of Grian's neck. He could feel the holes closing already.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He waved his hand dismissively. A flash of purple light and the wound in his neck was gone, like it had never been there to begin with. Not even a scar left behind. "I guess I just... forgot what that felt like."

Mumbo raised a brow. "Did you like it?"

A foggy sort of pleasure still clouded Grian's brain, lingering after the sedative was purged. "Obviously."

Mumbo smirked in self-satisfaction. "I could tell by that noise you made."

"Shut up," Grian retorted with a grin.

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: Simon (Sal) Riley [14]

Fingers threading through my hair, gentle and soft, summons me back to life. Seconds ago, I was consumed by the deepest sleep I've had in weeks. Months, really. I mean I really slept good. I didn't have a single dream. It was just bliss.

I blink my eyes open and glance at Ash who's staring down at me with a grin that's holding back a series of laughs. Mirth dances in her jade eyes and I'm really curious as to why she looks like she's about to laugh at me.

I take a deep breath through my nose then sit up, closing my tired eyes while I do a long and well-deserved cat stretch. "What's wrong?" I murmur, my voice hoarse.

"Nothing," Ash whispers, standing to her full height. She's still in her pajamas, which consists of a pair of Hello Kitty sweatpants and a black sports bra. The epitome of comfy, basically. "You were snoring, for one. And I mean it sounded like you were choking on some really good dick. Sorry if I interrupted any kind of-- hehehehe-- dream, but I wanted to make sure you were alright." While she obviously couldn't help but giggle, she does seem a bit concerned.

I grimace. Was I really snoring? That hard?

"I'm fine," I rasp, shrugging while trying to keep my eyes open. "I wasn't even dreaming. Was just in a deep sleep." I smack my lips, swallowing thickly over the heavy cloud of exhaustion that hovers over me.

"Okay, hun," Ash says softly, pushing a strand of hair out of my face. She tucks it behind my ear then cups my chin in her dainty, cold hand. "You can go back to sleep. It's only nine in the morning. I'll be moving to the living room, so you can have the bed to yourself."

I shake my head. No way am I going to sleep my day away-- it's my last day in Las Vegas. I want to spend it with my friends. "No," I tell her, trying to perk up a bit. "It's my last day. I want to spend it with you guys. I just need some coffee, or something."

Ash giggles. "Whatever you want, sweetness." Then, she stands with a little sigh, stretching her arms out. "I'll send Larry to go downstairs and get us a few cups of coffee then."

"That sounds wonderful," I reply, yawning loud and proud. No matter how hard I try, I can't jump over this sleepy hurdle. I've gotten about six hours of sleep so I shouldn't be this tired.

Ash puts on some slippers and I secure my mask onto my face before we walk out. I stop by the bathroom to brush my teeth quickly, only to nearly choke on the toothpaste frothing in my mouth upon seeing the half open shower curtain.

I have to face Sal Fisher soon.

Oh, boy. I genuinely don't know how this is going to go. I want to act like nothing even happened-- that feels like the safest route. But if he acts awkward around me, then how am I supposed to work around that?

I rinse the toothpaste out of my mouth and stand there with my hands on my head for a moment, reeling over the situation I've put myself in. I don't regret any of it. Sal really did show me a good time and I slept good as fuck afterward. If I'm being completely honest, I'd do it again.

His touch was so addictive. I've never had such a visceral reaction like that in my life. Just a brush of his fingertips had my brain practically vibrating.

He's special, talented. That's for sure.

I'll figure something out, but I'll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, I'm in the clear because, as far as I know, Sal is still sleeping in his and Larry's shared room.

I finally decide to rid myself of the memories for now and walk back out into the living room.

Ash and Todd are sitting beside each other at the dining table, seemingly reviewing the rest of their work plans for this trip. I know that they didn't just come here to party, based on what Ash told me a few days ago. Apparently they had some things to do.

I walk up behind Ash and lean over the table, holding myself up with a hand on the back of her chair. "What's going on?" I ask, attempting to stop myself from yawning yet again after the last syllable falls from my lips.

Ash turns her head, her hair brushing the back of my fingers. She smiles gently at me, her eyes flitting across my undoubtedly sleepy face before looking forward again.

Todd glances up at my intrusion, giving me a nod and a smile. I return both, following up with, "Morning, Todd."

"We're trying to figure out which time is the correct time to go to a meeting later. It's just Todd and I going. Sal and Larry did theirs already. One email says that it's at 10:30am, the other says 11:30am," Ash informs me, voice slowing with confusion as she talks.

I tilt my head curiously. "Huh," I voice. "That's weird. Did the email say anything about a time change?"

"No, that's the most frustrating part," Todd answers, turning the laptop back to him. "And I emailed to ask for a correct time confirmation, but I haven't gotten anything back."

"That's awful," I admit, frowning at my two friends. I'm stressed for them. "I mean, I'd hate for you two to have to sit there and wait for the meeting, but it wouldn't hurt to go at the earliest time, you know, in case. Just a suggestion."

Todd sighs in response, pinching his lips together as his eyes glance back and forth across the screen in front of him. "Yea. If I don't hear back before 9:45, that's what we're going to have to do. It's just extremely frustrating. I like to be punctual and this is entirely unprofessional on their end."

A little amused smirk quirks my lips. Todd has so many admirable qualities. One of them is that he hardly ever gets mad-- so seeing him on the border of it is just a bit goofy to me. I'm witnessing the impossible. Either way, I really do feel bad about the time mix-up and he's right-- it is unprofessional.

"I get it. They need to be on top of their shit," I say matter-of-factly, moving over to the white couch that Sal and Larry were gaming on yesterday. I sprawl out on my stomach, stretching my legs out until they can't anymore. Damn, this feels nice.

Ash and Todd get back to talking, so I grab the TV remote and switch it on. Hopefully there's something good playing.

I scroll through channels, humming softly to myself when all I see are soaps. I really don't feel like sitting through The Young and the Restless.

Eventually, I settle on a rerun of Two and a Half Men (which isn't bad at all, I was excited to see it) and lay my head on my arms. It's hard to get into a comfy position with the mask, so at least my arms acting as a stand prevent my mask from pressing into my face.

But as I lay there, exhaustion lulls me into more sleep. I try to hold it off, and I will. I'm stronger than this. It won't hurt to shut my eyes for just a second though. Not at all.

Within what feels like mere seconds, I feel my legs being lifted then gently placed back down on top of someone else's thighs. It takes a moment for me to realize that I actually managed to betray myself and fall back asleep, but I don't even have the strength to open my eyes, so I let myself fall back into a deep sleep.

But again, it feels like hardly anytime has passed when I feel my phone vibrating beneath me followed by the piercing sound of a ringtone. It shocks me awake, much to my disappointment.

Without opening my eyes, I yank my phone out from under me and somehow manage to accept the call.

I slap the device to my ear and grumble out a raspy, "What do you want?" I couldn't care less about who it is.

"I don't see my screwdriver."

My eyes fly open and my heart seems to pause. I throw my upper body forward so I can get my face out of the sofa, using my arms to keep me upright as panic grips me in its ugly vices.

"Okay," I squeak out. "Wait, I can explain--"

"I told you what my conditions were," Nate replies, cutting me off. His deep, monotonous voice turns my blood to ice.

I whimper disappointedly, frowning at the empty dining table next to the kitchenette. "Nate, please," I say sadly, trying to make him feel bad. Anything to convince him to forgive me. "I'll have your screwdriver back tomorrow, it's a promise."

"It's too late. You told me I'd have it back..." he trails off thoughtfully, "Oh, yea. Yesterday." His reply is so snarky that I wince.

"Please don't take away my brownie privileges!" I say quickly, my voice high pitched as I scrunch my eyes shut. "I mean no harm, I swear. I just... decided to stay in Vegas longer."

"Your problem, not mine," he says nonchalantly, deep voice rumbling through the call. Fuck. No mercy, I guess. "No brownie's for a month. Oh, and your dad's the one who sold you out."

"Of course he sold me out," I hiss, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth while shaking my head. "Dammit dad," I murmur. "You're really taking the brownie's away?"

"Yes. Bring me my screwdriver and then we can talk about maybe lessening the punishment."

I groan, plopping my head onto the couch under me. "Wait. Nate--"

But he's hung up.

I sigh, shoving my face into fabric and letting my arm fall off the side of the couch. My phone slips from my hand and clatters to the floor. Well, that was a wake up call if I've ever heard one.

"Who the hell is Nate and why is he taking your brownies away?"

My head flies up again, eyes wide as I look behind me and see Larry sitting at the other end of the couch with my legs thrown on top of his. Ah, so that's who sat beneath me.

He has an Xbox controller in his hands, gaze focused on the TV in front of him. No shirt on, red sweatpants. My eyes almost roll into the back of my head. These men need to stop walking around shirtless. I'm going to combust if I'm subjected to this much hotness any longer.

I take a deep breath, keeping my eyes on his handsome profile. "Nate is my neighbor. He makes the best brownies I've ever had. Unfortunately, I won't have them for a while because I was supposed to return his screwdriver yesterday," I answer Larry's question, blinking the remnants of sleep away.

"Well that's just rude," Larry scoffs, eyebrows furrowing for just a moment. Then he places his controller down and looks to me, a grin forming on his pretty lips immediately. He puts a hand on my bare calf and squeezes gently. I'm going to evaporate. "I'll make brownies for you."

That makes me giggle lightly. "Thanks, Lar. Very appreciated."

It's time for me to get up. I didn't even mean to fall back asleep in the first place.

I sit up, grabbing my phone to glance at the time. 10:45am.

With an obnoxiously loud yawn, I pull my legs off of Larry who pouts. "I liked those there, you know," he grumbles.

"Sorry," I laugh. "I need to get up and eat something. It's almost lunch time."

"But you didn't have to move those gorgeous, silky legs, dude. Sal would have gotten up to grab you some food," Larry complains, frowning at me when I turn to look at him.

"No I wouldn't have." Sal's nonchalant and uncaring reply makes me flinch. Has he been here the entire time?

I swing my head to the side, noting his presence. Sal's laying on a chair, his legs hanging over the arm. And, for fuck's sake, he's also shirtless.

"Have any of you heard of shirts?" I breathe, unable to help myself as I turn back to Larry.

He throws a sexy smirk my way in response. "Shirts suck. They take the attention away from our hotness."

I pinch my lips together and roll my eyes to pull the attention away from my damn blush. Fuck this. I can't stand this bullshit.

"By the way, though," Larry says, turning back to whatever game he and Sally are playing. "I grabbed a chocolate croissant and a caramel macchiato for you when I went down for breakfast this morning. Ash told me your order."

I hope Ash gets her titties sucked. I'll do it for her if she can't find someone-- but she really deserves it.

"Thank you tons," I say happily, rolling off the couch and hissing at the cold tile flooring beneath my feet.

Just going to ignore Sal's presence in the room for as long as I possibly can. If I acknowledge him or the reminder of last night I'll probably have a panic attack.

Larry grunts, grabbing my wrist before I can even take a single step away from the couch. His warm fingers yank me toward him a bit, so I turn around and watch him with what I hope is a questioning look.

He tilts his head in a way that beckons me over, so I walk closer to him, wondering what on earth he stopped me for. I'm hungry.

Once he leads me to a stop directly in front of him, he releases me and scoots closer to the edge of the white sofa. His long, tanned legs cage me in and he looks up at me with lightly furrowed brows. I gulp, a wave of heat enveloping my face.

"Lean down," Larry whispers so seriously and softly that his voice goes raspy, eyes flitting across my face the entire time.

Oh, holy hell. "Wait, Lar," I say, moving to back away, but the serious expression on his face suddenly makes way for an eye roll.

"Just lean down, Vi. I'm not trying to pull you onto my lap or something. Just trying to fix your hair," then he raises one perfectly arched eyebrow and waits for me to move back to where I was.

I gulp. I'm not sure if I can handle that. Not only is Larry obnoxiously hot, but hair-fixing is a little too intimate to me. It may not be intimate to him, but even the thought makes little pink butterflies seep into my peripheral vision. I don't need confusion when I sat on top of Sally Face Fisher's dick last night.

But as I stand there and stare at Larry with wide, hesitant eyes, he seems to look a little wounded. So with a metaphorical knife pointed at my chest, a take a quick step toward him and lean down so that we're eye-level.

I don't have to lean much, and it thankfully appeases Larry. The hurt expression leaves his face immediately as he lifts his hands and runs them through my strands, shaking my hair out and untangling where he can.

My eyes are glued to his. They're such a dark, gorgeous brown. The sunlight hits them directly right now, making them just a bit brighter than they normally seem. Melted dark chocolate. Autumn leaves scattered on top of the Earth. Fresh soil. Clay molded to absolute perfection.

Larry sighs and pulls away from me with a content smile. I blink at him, my eyes still trapped in his pretty irises. How does this man not have a girlfriend?

Thankfully, I'm not fluttering into oblivion. I'm honored and blushing, but I don't love him any more or any less than I did before. That's good.

"Go ahead and get your brekky, Vi," Larry tells me, manspreading right in front of me as he picks up his Xbox controller to start playing with Sal again. Well, okay then.

I purse my lips to contain an amused grin and walk toward the little kitchenette thingy majigg that's going on in the suite. I mean it's really just a small cabinet with a mini fridge, microwave, and a sink with a couple plates, cups, and utensils. Then right next to it is a giant dining room table that's way too large and elaborate for the lack of normal kitchen-required things.

But yea, right on top of the behemoth table that could totally be Larry in furniture form is a little bag and a cup of coffee.

I pop the top off the cup then mix my macchiato with the straw, lazily looking around the room that's contributed to Larry and Sally's The Hangover lifestyle. It's nowhere near as large or gorgeous as the suite from the movie. It's lacking the Grecian architecture, lavish furniture, statues, and fun floors. It's way too fucking white, a bit plain for my taste, but it's still beautiful in its own way.

White fabric furniture and walls, birch tables, marble cabinets and flooring. The only real intricate part to this room is the carvings on the ceiling-- and even that isn't extensive. Maybe I'm just too dark to truly admire this setting, I'm not sure. I have a love/hate relationship with it right now.

I take a sip of my heavenly coffee and break my croissant in half. It's the largest I've ever seen and chocolatey as all hell. I can already tell I'm going to love it.

But I also have some matters to tend to. And I hate that I have to handle anything at all right now, but the truth is that I owe Sal something. He apologized to me in his own way and made me cum twice, the least I can do is give him a bit of closure right?

I open up my phone and pull up the unknown number that I don't have the balls to save. I think about my message-- I just want to let him down easy, keep him away from Lexi. Make him hate her or something, I don't know. Just something to make him not pursue her anymore.

Me: hey sally! sorry for the late reply but i'm really in kind of a weird spot in life right now... i owe it to you to at least give you a reason why i haven't replied. i shouldn't get into any relationships for my health and honestly yours too. i'm sorry to let you down, but it's the best i can do for both of us :(

I feel borderline terrified as I reread the message over and over again. This will probably crush him and I'm going to feel terrible. But I just... I need him off my back, especially since he's going crazy with VioletViolence right now. Actually, I'm really not sure what any of this means. He texted Lexi and we did a lot last night-- maybe he's a fuckboy.

With that thought in mind, I send the text and wait.

With half my breakfast in one hand and the cold cup of coffee in my other, I finally and anxiously return my attention to the boys occupying the rest of this large suite with me. Sal's still perched on the love seat like he hasn't a care in the world. Meanwhile, Larry's got a mean glare on his face as he aims his controller at Sal.

"Hey, fuckhead," Larry grinds out, leaning his arm back.

I puff out my cheeks as I watch Sal turn to acknowledge the other man in the room. The second his prosthetic comes into view, Larry launches the controller at him.

I hold my breath, my entire body going stiff as the entire scene plays out in slow motion. My eyes widen just as Sal's head rears back to avoid impending doom.

Oh, fuck. It's going to hit him in the face. His fake face is about to get pummeled and for once I actually feel bad. Maybe I feel bad because I know my text might crack his tiny little heart.

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth and cower a bit. He's going to be pissed for the rest of the day and we all know I'm constantly on the receiving end of his bad moods.

But just as the controller is inches away from his face, Sal's hand slaps the plastic, altering its trajectory entirely.

The entire room is still while Sally shakes his hand out, no doubt feeling some pain from it. The controller has clattered to the floor and Larry's groaning at his miss. And I can't understand why he threw the controller to begin with.

Why am I colluding with the enemy?

My brows furrow and I wait. No more thinking about who was wrong or right.

"Do you feel better now?" Sal asks condescendingly. "Do you ever feel better after chucking a hunk of plastic at me?"

"No and I'm starting think I never will," Larry grumbles, folding his arms over his chest. "You effectively block it every time. What are you? A cyborg?"

"Wouldn't that be nice," Sal mutters tastelessly before turning back to the TV. "Least I'd have a face."

Ooookay, this is getting a little... too deep.

Sal looks down at his phone and suddenly scrambled to grab it, knocking his own controller to the floor. I feel my heart skip a beat as his eyes flit across the screen, and then his fingers fly across the keyboard.

I'm shocked for a second, he had almost no reaction other than urgency. No sad expression, no pause. What?

My phone vibrates in my hand but I wait a couple seconds to look down at it. I don't need Sal sniffing me out already just because I checked my phone at the wrong time.

When I feel that I've waited long enough, I lift my phone to my face again.

Unknown: yea, no. that's perfectly fine, lexi i was actually going to say the same thing. I just feel bad for insinuating that i wanted a relationship a couple weeks ago just for me to text you now and say that i've changed my mind. i feel a lot better knowing that you feel the same way though. would you still want to be friends?

Well, this outcome is much better than I expected it would be. And maybe he's not going to go fuck a bunch of other girls while he and I have this going on. I mean he obviously is interested in Lexi, but still decided not to pursue anything with her. Is it because he and I are...

But now I have to slowly distance myself from him as Lexi because I'm way too fucking nice to just outright say, "No, fuck you, I don't want to be your friend." even though he would absolutely say that to me...

With a quiet sigh, I type out a message.

Me: sure! :) glad we're on the same page!

It feels so odd to be nice to him, and for him to be nice to me. Honestly, that text message he sent is one of the few nice things he's done and/or said to me. Like, one of five instances, I think.

But I'm going to block it all out for now. I got the big worry out of the way.

I take quick steps over to the couch that Larry's sitting on again, smiling awkwardly at him. "Hey," I say, hopefully distracting both boys from whatever's going on between them and pulling myself away from the text conversation I just had with Sal.

I'm not sure if what I witnessed between Sal and Larry is typical step-brother behavior or if they have some kind of feud that hasn't been directly acknowledged. Either way, it's hard to be a spectator. "The croissant is really good. Wanna try?"

Larry raises a perfectly arched, amused eyebrow at me, lips pulling into a little smirk. "Yes I do wanna try, thank you, ma'am," he chuckles, leaning forward and pulling off a piece of the pastry. He pops it into his mouth then stands up with a satisfied little groan-- knees cracking and all-- then starts walking toward Sal.

A little flash of anxiety pulses within me as I turn to watch the two. Are they actually going to keep this up?

"By the way, Vi," Larry says, his voice a bit monotone. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt Sally. Sorry if that left you freaked, but it's been a little thing of ours-- as crazy as it may seem." He takes the controller from Sal's outstretched hand. "This dude can block anything that comes his way. You'd be shocked."

My eye twitches. A little thing of theirs? Is the little thing to give everyone around them a fucking heart attack?

"Anyway," Larry continues, ruffling Sally's hair. The bluenette grunts frustratedly in response, kicking his dumpling sock-clad foot into Larry's knee. Lord Metal Head himself cackles wildly as he stumbles over to me. "Take my spot, I'm gonna force Mr. Angy to practice since he can't seem to do it himself today." Larry's voice turns into a sarcastically taunting baby voice as he hands me the controller.

I watch my friend with wide eyes. Surely he must know that Sal is going to either metaphorically or physically kick his ass. But Larry simply sends me a sly wink and waits for his brother's response.

"I hope you choke on that fucking croissant, cunt," comes Sal's timely response, aggressive and filled with malice as per usual.

Larry snickers, nudging me with his elbow. He wiggles his eyebrows at me as if to say 'watch this.' And while I'm terrified to watch, I'm also very intrigued.

"It's moist, I think I'll be fine. Ever had anything moist before, Salamander?" Larry asks, shit-eating grin plastered on his face despite his faux-innocent tone.

It's official, Larry is literally insane. I've always suspected it, but he's genuinely a shit stirrer. I don't now if that's fun or damning.

"Had something moist last night," Sal murmurs.

I curl in on myself like a fucking dead spider. Ever seen the first season of American Horror Story? I'm Violet's dead body.

Did he have to say that? How the fuck is he going to play that off because if he's expecting me to get into defense mode, he's never been more wrong. Such a damn idiot. He's obviously trying to spook me, but he's going to get us caught in the process.

"You know," I start, scooting into their tense conversation. "Speaking of moist, I had a wild dream last night." I'm hoping this distracts them enough to the point that Larry drops the subject. I really can't do this today.

But Larry whirls on me, an animalistic type of excitement on his face. He sends me a terrifyingly pretty smile, eyes widening significantly. "Oh? Did you?" He asks, intrigued. "You know, Sal has some pretty interesting dreams too. You'd be shocked."

My own eyes widen, but this time it's in a good way. Larry's reminded me of the conversation I heard last night while hiding in the tub... and the way Sal's head snaps towards us shows me that he knows he's in for deep shit.

I've been wanting to quiz his ass about this ever since I heard Larry bring up Sal's supposed wet dreams about me. Key letter: S.

I smile at Larry, tilting my head as a rush of exhilaration runs through me. Sal watches us, sitting up quickly once he realizes the exchange isn't going to die off. "That's interesting," I chirp, turning my attention to Sally who looks like he might flip his shit in a moment here. "Why don't you tell us about those dreams? Are they fun? Are they moist? Because wet dreams are fun. Ever had one of those? I can't imagine you wouldn't." I turn back to Larry, unable to keep the maniacal grin from enveloping my face. "Does he have wet dreams?" I whisper loudly, leaning a bit closer to the giant man.

Larry's jaw drops in psychotic delight. "How'd you know!?" He bellows, voice caught between a holler and a giggle.

"Why am I the target today? Can you two fuck off?" Sal grounds out from behind clenched teeth. I turn to watch him just as he stands up, taking a slightly intimidating step toward us with his arms crossed over his chest.

My eyes follow his that are aimed at Larry. It's sad to say, but even with Sal's smaller stature, his presence is still just as overwhelming and intimidating as Larry's. I guess it doesn't really help that both men are taller than me. I'm just unlucky.

Sal's gaze cuts to me and when our eyes meet, his narrow in silent warning. I throw my hands up in surrender-- not that I mean it in any way. He had this coming and I'm really relishing in the karma of it all.

"Fucking diabolical dicks," Sal seethes, sending Larry another look before he pushes past us.

I shrug at Larry, looking to Sal who trudges off to his room. "That's what she said!" I yell, which ultimately causes Larry to let out a resounding guffaw.

One of the best parts about whatever's going on in this group we have is that I get to connect with Larry and piss off the one man who's ever managed to make me feel like I'll commit mass homicide. I know he heard what I said, but he's so wounded right now that he ignored it. That's another point in my book, thank you very much.

I leave Larry as close to a sobbing mess as he can possibly get, giggling as I walk over to his previous spot on the couch. I flop onto the plush fabric and take a quick sip of my macchiato then start a new game of Dead By Daylight. I'm going in solo-- I'm in the mood to kill.

And unfortunately, Sal resurfaces in the dining room mere moments later which makes me turn to look at him despite my brain yelling for me not to. He's bearing that gorgeous, shiny, blood red guitar that makes me take pause. That same guitar in the picture that Larry was shitty enough to send in Discord.

Sal is the epitome of aggression and frustration right now. The strap is around his neck-- one hand is wrapped around the middle of the neck of the guitar while the other hangs over the body. He taps the red coat with his black nails-- an action that's probably the only thing preventing him from blowing up.

And he still doesn't have a fucking shirt on. I feel like I'm watching that photo in real time.

Now that he's standing up and I can see all of him, I get a good glimpse of that tattoo peeking out of the waistband of his sweatpants. I still don't know what it is, but it's hot regardless. He has tattoos on his arms and neck, but other than that he's bare-- I think. After all, I haven't seen his legs yet and based on the tattoo hiding on his hip, maybe there's more.

When I look back to his face, his striking blue eyes meet mine rather suddenly. They only seem to hold even more aggravation than they did a couple seconds ago. My guess is that he's pretty salty over the way I brought up his wet dreams about me. But, hey, I'm flattered! Really, I am. But the memory alone makes a grin work its way onto my face and I have no doubt that he can feel how smug I am from across the room.

With a click of my tongue, I snap my head back to the TV screen and hope that I can fight the urge to ogle his hotness.

"Awe, I'm so proud of you for listening, little guy," Larry coos. I snort almost immediately, only taking a second to wonder if I heard him right. Larry knows every little pet peeve of Sal's and that's blindingly clear now that I've been around both men long enough.

"Shut the fuck up," Sal hisses out, "Do you want me to practice or not? I was going to wait until we got back to Nockfell and I'm close as hell to reverting back to that plan." Poor guy, he's not pleased.

I don't feel bad, by the way.

"I'm sorry, kitten," Larry's voice is extra pouty and I really need to know how he's keeping it together right now. I'm about to burst at the seams-- I can't even get a single kill on DBD right now. "Lord Lar didn't mean to upset you."

"Now it's really just fucking weird," Sal grumbles, taking a few steps toward the chair he was perched on when I woke up earlier. A quick glance in his direction shows me tense shoulders and clenched, veiny hands as he plops onto the furniture. "Save your BDSM talk for someone else, that shit's disgusting."

Okay, so, sure. It's disgusting in the sense that they're step-brothers-- but what a fucking hypocrite. Like Sal wasn't handling me in a similar way last night.

"Weird would be actual BDSM talk, dude," Larry says, voice turning into something more thoughtful. "What, do you want me call you a dirty little slut? That's when things take a funny turn."

I don't even bother to pause my game. My head turns to Larry so quickly that I'm a little worried I may have given myself whiplash. My eyes are wide to the point that it hurts. I can't not give the man a look though. Did he really just say that?

"Dude..." Sal whispers. I can't see him, his head is turned to Larry so I'm only able to see the back of his head, but the desperate concern in his voice is enough for my jaw to drop.

Larry, on the other hand, grins satisfactorily. "Too far?" he asks, narrowing his eyes curiously. He's proud of himself for that one.

I blink at the situation, but ultimately decide it's probably time for me to return to my game and pretend I never witnessed that interaction. Just the thought gives me giggly shivers.

But just as I'm going to turn my head back to the television, Larry averts his gaze to me. He tilts his head, grin spreading. "Vi, are you blushing?" he says teasingly.

I flinch backwards. What? No, I can't be. "How would that even be possible? You can't see my cheeks," I remind him.

"But I can see your ears and your neck," he informs me, taking a couple steps toward the couch I'm on. "So why don't you tell me what the fuck kind of freaky shit you're into."

Hell no. "Sorry, I don't know what you mean. I'm killing people," I grumble, trying to focus on my game yet again. It feels like I've been more focused on focus rather than actually playing. Not only that, I'm fighting for my life right now. Larry is about to scratch the surface of a little secret. A secret I would prefer to stay a secret.

"Oh, no." Larry takes quick steps toward me and Sally starts snickering as the giant man grows closer in my peripheral vision. I'm so going to get back at Sal for this later. "I was just fucking with Sal but now it's getting personal."

"I refuse to speak," I tell him shortly, growing distracted by the poor soul I'm chasing in my game.

"Awe," Larry says, not a single amount of remorse in his deep voice. "Sucks to suck."

The loudest and most obnoxious guffaw I've ever heard echoes through the room. I don't have to look, but Larry throws his head over his shoulder to look at Sal. The bastard is giggling on his chair, running his fingers along the strings of his guitar.

He must consider this to be good payback for the way Larry and I ganged up on him earlier. He's getting a good little ha-ha out of Larry's regurgitation of the same words Sal and I exchanged last night. And really, I know I can't blame Sally. I deserved this. But fuck does it make me angry, and most of all, I'm really fucking embarrassed. If Larry looks at me again, he's going to really start wondering why I'm so red.

"I didn't think it was that funny," Larry mumbles to himself, watching Sal as he quickly tunes his guitar then starts running through a few chords.

Sally simply shakes his head at Larry's words, choosing to ignore him as his chuckling dies down. He repositions his hands on the neck and body of his guitar, probably getting ready to play something.

I bite into my bottom lip and hang someone up in-game, effectively killing them within the next few seconds. It's my first kill of the game, but I'm not even excited about it. I'm more worried about the shirtless men using me as a metaphorical punching bag right now.

I feel cornered and I don't like it much. I didn't think too hard about getting into this situationship with Sal, but I should have. I really should've thought about why I should stay away from him-- I'm hiding from my friends and suffering from embarrassment that no one understands. Is this even really worth it?

My conscious was flooded with possibilities at the time, I had no regard for the consequences. And here I am, caught between a rock (Larry's teasing) and a hard place (Sal who is a walking red flag).

Larry's still watching Sal. He hasn't returned to heckling me about why I was supposedly blushing-- I still think he's lying about that-- but he's watching the guitar closely.

"I'm gonna try 'Carrion' again," Sal murmurs quietly, glancing up at Larry.

Larry nods in response, all seriousness as he says, "Alright. I'll stop you if you hit a wrong note."

"No," Sally cuts him off with a short shake of his head. "Don't stop me, I'll know. I can't learn if I can't catch it myself."

Good point.

I mindlessly continue my game, failing to catch and kill players even if I am genuinely trying. I'm more focused on Sal's gorgeous introduction to 'Carrion' by Parkway Drive. It's good, it's perfect, and it takes every little nerve and all the pride I have to not watch him play. Because I know he looks good. I know he's playing that guitar so professionally that it just looks incredibly hot. I've never seen him play, and I don't want to. I think I'd spontaneously combust almost instantly.

There's a kind of euphoric bliss that I get from hearing really good music. It's a type of stagnant and continual happiness that I've only felt either while listening to or making music. I feel it now, listening to Sal makes goosebumps rise on every inch of my skin. There's a hum that passes through my body, a vibration of sorts. It's not happiness or excitement, just contentment. It's beautiful.

The one thing I've always regretted about having to move to the little apartment that dad and I are in now is that I can't practice music anymore. The drum set I used during my time in band in high school followed me around for a while, but I had to pack it up for good last year. I haven't felt the cathartic release that comes with creating unique sounds in months. I miss it so incredibly much. I can't play guitar, but I'd steal that instrument from Sal just to feel that relief again.

As I'm reminiscing, I unfortunately lose my game and also unfortunately, Sal hasn't finished his song.

My eyes nearly water while I try to fight off the painful urge to steal just one glance. There's an unignorable weight on my chest that will only be relieved if I get just a little glimpse of him. A yearning in my soul that won't be appeased until I watch him.

Refrain, refrain, refrain.

But my eyes go to him either way. His fingers move so quickly, expertly along the neck of the guitar, his other hand copying the movements on the body. The red coat on the instrument glistens in the sunlight, casting a pink glow on his pale, bare chest. HIs eyes move quickly to keep up with the notes he's playing.

I suddenly feel like I can't breathe. There's so much happening in my mind that I can't get a good breath of air in and part of me doesn't want to. I just want to sit here and watch him play forever. To watch his intense focus, his fingers, the way he moves his entire body with each note he plays.

This type of feeling is unhealthy-- for me, at least. There's a fluttering in my chest that doesn't work well with whatever's going on between us. Of course, I'm interested in finding pleasure in Sal, but I don't want a relationship. He's the shittiest person I've ever met. I absolutely refuse to get butterflies over someone who called me a slut yesterday... no, it doesn't matter if I enjoyed being called that.

As I'm watching, his electric blue gaze slides up to meet mine and I feel my heart stutter. The light catches the bright color of his eyes so well, captures the hue and imbeds it into my memory forever. I feel caught, stuck. The exchange was so short that I'm not even sure if it was real, but that cerulean color will never leave my mind. It had to have happened.

He's getting to the end of song, mainly just replaying the same few notes since the song kind of just fades out, but there's a slam on the front door that causes him to play a wrong note. His soul nearly leaves his body too if the sudden flinch tells me anything-- but he stops, glaring at the door.

Not going to lie, it scared the crap out of me too. Sal can be mad about not finishing his song, but I'm more worried about dying within the next second.

The sound had to have been a boot against the thick wood keeping us safe in this room. The door has the equivalent to fucking four-factor authentication but that doesn't matter if someone has an ax or some shit right?

The bang comes again, this time with three more to follow. I flinch into the back of the sofa, watching the door with furrowed brows and a pounding heart.

None of us say a word. We just watch and wait as silence ensues yet again.

I glance at Larry, he glances at me. Larry glances at Sal, Sal glances back. I glance at Sal, regret it when he glances back at me.

The silence is so loud that I can hear my rapid heartbeat. At some point, I start to wonder if it's mine or someone else freaking out just as hard as I am. There's just so much quiet that the little voice in my head sounds like a whisper beside me-- and that only fuels the panic, truth be told.

I let out a little yelp when I hear, "Can you dumb motherfucker's get the door? Please?"

It's Ash. Ash was the one banging on our front door like the fucking police.

I can't help but sigh in relief and start walking over to the front door with quick steps. All that worry for nothing. I undo the locks and then throw said door open, glancing up at a disgruntled looking Ash and an agitated Todd.

Thankfully, Ash's expression changes when she sees me. She brightens up a bit and smiles, grabs the sides of my mask, and plants a quick kiss onto the plastic protecting my forehead. "Hey there, lovebug," she says cheekily. It feels like all the anxiety and embarrassment I felt just a couple minutes ago washes away. With just a simple touch-- it's all gone.

"I wish I got that kind of greeting from everyone," I tell her, smiling back as a little giggle falls from my lips.

"I bet," Ash says, scrunching her nose up cutely. She's adorable. "You're just my exception. Ask the boys-- I'm a bitch!"

Ash looks past me, scooting over a bit to let Todd in. Her face instantly turns to stone, so I follow her and notice the way Larry instantly changes his stance. He goes from calm and collected to on guard, wary, and with the most hilarious horrified look on his face. "What?" he asks, voice monotonous like he's expecting the worst. "I swear I was gonna get the door."

I hear Ash sigh, so I look over and catch the way she rolls her eyes tiredly. "It's no one's fault," she says. "It's just that Todd and I couldn't shoot down this offer. You all need to go get dressed. Now. Vi included because we aren't just going to leave her here on her last day in Vegas."

I'm shocked when Sal only narrows his eyes at Ash's command. I expected him to fight tooth and nail to keep me cooped up here while they go do whatever it is they need to do, but he stays quiet.

"What's changed?" Larry asks, relaxing his posture now that he knows he isn't in trouble. He does have a serious expression though-- eyebrows bunched together and a little frown pulling at his full lips.

"You guys won't believe it." Ash takes a big breath then puffs out her cheeks as she lets it go. "Just put your shirts on," She pauses, her mouth suddenly dropping open. "Actually, why are you two shirtless while we have a guest in the house?" There's a little bite in her tone that has Larry immediately turning on his heel.

A guilty grin forms on my lips when Larry disappears into his room without a word. He really is terrified of Ash, and I mean I would be too. She's nearly his size in height and has already thrown me around like a rag doll on multiple occasions. She could totally bring Larry down. 

Sal's eyes are still on Ash. There's a look in his blue irises that spells out concern and intrigue, but it all mixes up to create a scary little glare. 

His gaze meets mine without warning and I choke on my own spit-- joy. I try to hold in a cough, tears springing to my eyes as Sal's brows furrow just a bit more. He examines me, pretty eyes flitting across my face quickly before he turns around and walks off to join Larry. 

The way he looks at me, that angry and predatory look in his eyes, makes my body warm. I can't quite explain it. He communicates so much without words, but then again, I can never get a good read on him either. It's like the only emotions he can express are negativity or desire. No in-between-- I've never seen a happy face on him.

Well, there was that time when he was talking with his fans. Other than that though, he's only been the equivalent to a really hot gripe. And that doesn't even make sense.

I huff out a breath, trying to recover from the buzzing in my brain thanks to mere eye contact with Sally. It's a little pathetic at this point. The only thing holding me back is the intense disdain I feel for him. Maybe it's the same for him, too.

The group of us get dressed quickly. Ash pushes us to move quickly, so I end up in her Dark Autumn Complex shirt that she wore to the concert yesterday and pair it with the last clean skirt I have. I have limited options.

I throw on my Vans just as everyone's beginning to walk out of the door. I hop toward the entryway, yanking on my last shoe and trying to tie it with each step I take.

I pass Sally with a little grunt as I finish tying my laces. He shuts the door behind me and murmurs, "You're just a walking piece of caution tape, aren't you?"

My teeth clinch. I still have so much against him right now for earlier. And what's worse is that I seem to be a constant target for him. I don't understand why, but he isn't going to get lucky by being a prick all the time. "Says the jogging-- no, running-- actually, flying red flag," I grit out, throwing him a look as he walks up next to me.

There's a nasty, disapproving glare in his eyes that only fuels the argumentative fire in my soul. "And you think you aren't a red flag?" he asks. "You call yourself an anarchist."

"And I wasn't fucking lying," I inform him confidently, finally standing up straight once I'm comfortable with the way my shoes are tied. He gets me heated so quickly. At least his attempts to make me upset or turn me on are effective-- the process is good for him but, fuck, it only manages to piss me off.

A flat look develops in his eyes, one that calls me a dumbass without words. I match that gaze with a little sneer, but he only tilts his head. "Oh, really?" he says, voice intrigued in the way a professor finds it funny when their student thinks they know more than their instructor does. It's a 'try me' type of intrigued. "Anarchy's going to kick your ass."

"It hasn't yet, so I'll stick to it," I tell him, prepared to walk past him and move to the front of the group with Todd. I know he has it out for me right now, courtesy of my teasing earlier, so I want to stay as far away from him as I possibly can. 

Sal has other plans, as always.

I take one more step forward only to be met by a pair of Doc Martens meeting my leg really aggressively-- kind of like he was attempting to sweep me off my feet, but definitely not in a romantic way. A yelp is ripped from my larynx as I stumble forward, tripping over Sal's boot again with my other foot.

I somehow manage to catch myself before I fall, holding my hands out for balance while I try to come to terms with the fact that Sal actually just tripped me out of spite.

He thinks he has so much audacity, doesn't he? I may have deserved a good verbal battle, but this shrimp dicked fuck nugget actually tripped me without an ounce of concern for my wellbeing.

He's beauty, he's grace, and apparently he'll kick you in the shin when he doesn't get his fucking way. Little bitch. Can't belive I was worried about crushing on him earlier.

Sal walks up beside me just as I'm beginning to recover. He leans down, his azure hair brushing against the top of my head. I feel a spike of pure, unadulterated anger grip my soul and I genuinely have to hold myself back from punching him into the backrooms. "Another one bites the dust," he whispers in that raspy voice of his. "Sucks that my little foot fucked up your path, right? Anarchy's going to get you in much worse predicaments." He stands to his full height and I look up at him, trying to communicate just how much malice I'm feeling through my gaze. He only meets my eyes with amused cerulean irises.

"If you were so worried about my life choices," I hiss, "You wouldn't have tripped me."

"Your mistake is thinking that I'm worried about you in general." Sal shrugs and passes me up. We're piling into the elevator now. "Only giving you an unfriendly word of advice. Stop fucking with me."

"Is that a threat?" I ask, knowing he won't answer me because he probably didn't even hear me in the first place. That, or he's going to ignore me regardless. His last statement was comprised of parting words.

Fucking dick.

Why did I decide it was a good idea to get into this situation with him? He's such an asshole and such a waste of my time, but he's good at what he does. That's the most I can give him, but I can't even remember how good he was to me last night-- I'm that pissed off. Leave it to him to cloud my judgement and my memories all at the same time.

We travel through the lobby and catch a taxi in the parking lot. Everyone was silent the entire way through Caesar's Palace, except for Larry who was bothering Ash with questions. I don't blame him, I've been curious about what's going on too.

"Okay," Ash huffs as we settle into the back of a taxi that's really just a suburban that could fit a family of eight. It's like a fancy, black, soccer mom van. "We have a couple minutes to talk about this now. But basically, we're heading to The Venetian--" Oh, hell yea. Dad wanted me to go there. "--for a photoshoot."

Larry groans, rolling his eyes. Sal doesn't have a reaction.

"Another one?" Larry asks, exasperated. "I hated the first one, why a second?"

"Wait," I cut in, my mind blazing with surprise. "You guys have done a photoshoot before?"

"We went to one earlier this week. It was just something for a magazine," Todd tells me, blinking his inky eyes at me, face emotionless. He has that little curl falling onto his forehead again while the rest of his hair is set perfectly into place on the sides and back of his head. How does he get it so perfect? "This is different though. This isn't for a magazine."

"What is it then?" Sal speaks up, seemingly tired of the way everyone's beating around the bush.

Ash pinches her lips together, a little flash of nervousness flitting across her features. "Don't freak out," she starts with, holding a hand out in a stop motion. "But, Treyarch wants us. Something about promoting Modern Warfare III."

Oh. My friends are about to model for Call of Duty.

I think that fact has to sit on all of us for a minute because both Sal and Larry are completely silent. Totally still. It feels impossible. This is probably the biggest thing to happen to The Faces since they first started streaming. This is exciting-- it's unbelievable. And it's all happening rather suddenly. Ash, Todd, Larry, and Sally must be incredibly surprised right now.

I'm starting to think that the rest of our little three minute drive is going to be spent in shocked silence, but Larry and Sal turn to each other just as we're pulling into the parking lot at The Venetian and they start yelling. All ecstatic and exhilarated for this opportunity. I can't tell what they're telling each other-- I don't even think they know what they're telling each other. But it's kind of adorable to see them so excited. Their words are incoherent and rushed, but they're gripping each other's hands and bouncing around in their seats like children who were just told they were going to Disney World.

Picture two men, both of which have at least decently defined or completely ripped muscles with tattoos covering every inch of their skin. Now put classic, long, emo hair and dark clothes on top of that. Finally, complete the image with a side by side of the men and puppies being presented with bacon. That's exactly what's happening right now.

I look over at Ash and she smiles softly at me, a sweet look in her eyes-- admiration. "They've been waiting for this for years," she says quietly. "They became friends because of metal and Call of Duty. Getting to work with the company is, like, the ultimate accomplishment right now."

My attention returns to the boys again. They're both squished in beside Todd who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else than here, but he doesn't interrupt Sal and Larry's excited banter.

Soon, we're all piling out of the taxi and fighting our way through The Venetian which is as beautiful as it is absolutely packed to the brim. It's gorgeous with all kinds of art and statues, but there are way too many people for my taste. We're hardly even able to get to the reception desk.

Ash takes the reins and talks to everyone for us, all up until we're escorted to some room that's hidden away from the main part of the building. When we walk in, it's a basic, dark cement room that's filled with a ton of photography equipment-- cameras, backgrounds, lights. The works.

I feel like I'm floating when a photographer drops a handful of clothes into everyone's hands-- except for me-- and sends them into another room to change. I nearly salivate upon realizing that The Faces are going to walk back out here in full tactical gear. Yummy, yummy. I'm getting fed well today.

I can't help but bounce on my toes while I wait for my friends to come back. I spend the few minutes of loneliness watching the photographers move things around and set up specific scenes. I couldn't explain how much is going on even if I wanted to, but it's a lot for sure.

But as I'm starting to get a little anxious, Ash and Todd walk back into the room.

Ash is in camo cargo pants and a black turtle neck with a black armor plate over her chest. It shows off all her curves and expresses her femininity in a way that makes metaphorical drool drip from my mouth. There are straps around her thighs, one that holds a knife and another that holds a fake hand gun. She looks really good. And Todd is in almost the same getup, but with a camo jacket hanging over his shoulders and a little hat on top of his head. It's clear that the photographers are going for a Captain Price look for Todd. The issue is that he's absolutely not having it.

"The hat stays off," he tells a photographer who walks over to adjust the belt at his hips. There's a little frown on his lips that says he's less than pleased. I'm used to expressionless and unfeeling Todd, not actually upset Todd. The idea makes me grimace.

The door to the next room opens again and I look over, noting Larry who walks out with the biggest grin I've ever seen.

He's also wearing camo cargo pants, but he has a black cargo jacket to go with it. All the clothing skin tight on him, accentuating all of his unearthly muscles. Still can't believe Larry's jacked to hell. Anyway, he's wearing a tan armor plate with a bunch of ammo and other gear planted around it. I don't want to call that cargo too, but let's be honest. Then there's knee pads and elbow pads. To put it simply, he's decked out and he looks damn good.

I shake my head at Larry, unable to take my eyes off of him as he skips over to us.

"Dude," he says, looking at Ash and Todd. he puts a hand on my shoulder and jiggles me around in excitement. The action makes me laugh, he just can't contain himself. "Sal fucking looks like Ghost. I can't stress it enough."

"You do know they've got you dressed up like König, right?" Todd asks nonchalantly, folding his hands over his chest.

Larry grins, doing a little dance before he answers. "Damn right they do," he says, twirling a strand of his hair between his fingers. "They know I'm hot. I'm hot, right, Vi?" Larry turns to me with that ever-present grin of his.

"Yes, Larry," I say happily, smiling brightly at my dear friend. "You're hot."

"Fuck yes," Larry yells, fist bumping the air, wrapping his free arm around my shoulders. "The one and only VioletViolence approves of my look."

Heads suddenly start turning to address the commotion and I sink in on myself just a bit. I don't like having attention-- unless it's from The Faces, I guess.

I'm a little nervous when a photographer walks up to us again because her eyes on me. And she has a pile of clothes in her hand. My heart starts to race and my palms grow clammy. I don't want to get my hopes up and think that I'll get to participate in the photoshoot, but why else would she be walking over here like that?

"He just said your name right?" The woman asks me upon finally reaching us. "VioletViolence?"

I swallow thickly over the nerves, nodding quickly at the lady. My heart is about to sprint out of my chest. Holy crap.

"Good. Get changed," she says, dumping the clothes she was just carrying into my arms and instantly turning away. Okay?

I struggle to keep all the gear in my arms, looking at each of my friends with wide eyes. I don't know what to do and there's an obsessive kind of urgency and exhilaration building up inside me. I'll bet that this is exactly how Sal and Larry felt earlier.

Ash squeals, patting my head since she can't exactly hug me with all of these clothes in my arms. "Go, babygirl!" she says excitedly, giving me a little shove toward the door she came out of just a couple minutes ago. "The changing room is just down the hall. And don't be too afraid of the creepiness, the room you'll get to is a lot better than the freaky hallway."

I nod to myself thoughtlessly, taking quick steps to the door that will lead me just a step closer to the event that's going to change my life. I haven't been online in days, but Treyarch still wants me to model for them? I am so going to explode.

I slip past the double doors, a little guilty grin on my face. I've got an entire pile of tactical gear in my hands and I'm more than happy to have the opportunity to wear it. Who knew I'd get so lucky?

The hallway is dim. The walls on either side of me are cement blocks stacked on top of each other, painted white. There are little chips in the paint, showing off the grey color of the stone beneath the thin coat. The floor is shamelessly cement. The two rectangular lights above me flicker in time with one another. It's a bit eerie, but I don't have to be here long.

My feet tap against the ground. I'm used to the sound of my steps against hollow ground, with a room beneath me. But here, the sound is a high pitched echo around me. The sheer creepiness of it makes me pause for a moment.

Ash did warn me, but I wasn't expecting to be this spooked. This feels like a scene straight out of Resident Evil.

I've got this though. The changing room is literally just ten or so steps ahead of me. I see the door to my left. I'm brave, I'm strong, I am the epitome of feminism. I can do this. I lived in Addison Apartments, for fuck's sake-- of course, I can do this.

I puff out my chest a bit, all an ineffectual ploy to trick myself into feeling confident. It doesn't work at all. But I take a step forward anyway.

Before my foot can touch the ground again, the door I was just talking about opens. The metal squeaks on its hinges, mimicking some kind of heart-stopping siren.

I'm crouching in fear for a moment, but then Sal steps out of the room. Unfortunately, I only feel relief for half a second.

He stops just outside the door, letting it swing shut with a resounding, hollow thunk. The man shakes his blue hair out of his eyes, examining the fingerless gloves adorning his veiny hands. He pulls the straps around his wrists loose, fixes them, then flexes his fingers out in front of him.

And I watch. Oh, I shamelessly watch. I watch while he drags that hand through his pretty hair, setting it into place atop his head. He stands straighter, giving me a better view of the black jacket he's wearing with an armor plate on his chest, then his black cargo pants. There are straps around his thighs to hold up all the gear that goes with the costume. And then the black fucking combat boots.

I shake my head in disbelief. He was already hot enough, this didn't need to happen.

Sal lifts his head and his ocean gaze clashes with mine. His eyes seem wary and so much brighter and I quickly deduce that the reason for the change is because of the eyeliner around his eyes-- the black brings out the harsh blue of his irises.

He breaks our short stare, looks off to both of his sides. But when he tilts his head to the left, I get an unfortunate glance at the damn tattoo on his neck. It's something about the neck specifically, I don't know what it is-- truly.

His eyes meet mine again. This time, his gaze is a bit calmer, a tad predatory. I know that look.

"I know that look."

I flinch at his words. What a mind reader.

Swallowing thickly, I readjust my standing position and try to hold his gaze. "What?" I ask, pathetically trying to keep my voice monotone. It comes out too forced though and he can see it-- it shows in the amused tilt of his head.

Instead of standing there and keeping things as PG as it can possibly get for both of us, Sal sighs a little obnoxiously and starts walking toward me.

The way his gear moves with his body has me at a loss for words. The holsters on his hips quietly clank against the belt holding his pants up. Every little sound and movement attracts my gaze and I don't know where to look first-- I'm stuck, panicked.

Sal is gorgeous in this moment, I mean he always is, but there's something about him obviously being in his element with the perfect style to suit him that makes him glow. Makes him look like he's walking toward me in slow motion.

"I know that look," Sal repeats, pulling me out of whatever admirable trance I previously found myself in. Must remember he's a total ass. "It's a look full of slutty intentions." His voice is suggestive, teasing. I recognize it as part of the act he plays when we're alone. When we have room to do-- in his words-- slutty things.

I keep my mouth shut. If I speak, too much will leak. I didn't think it was possible for him to be even hotter, but he constantly proves me wrong.

My brows furrow as my gaze travels down his body before I can stop myself. I quickly look into his black-lined eyes again, but they narrow in my direction. The silence he greeted me with for a moment is gone as soon as it came.

"Words, Vi." Dark, raspy. He changes the tone of his voice so well, so easily. How could I possibly disobey him?

Haha, kidding.

My lips remain sealed until the toes of his boots are brushing my shoes. Even then, I try to refrain from letting my damning thoughts become vocal. I can't give into him, especially since it's so fun when disobedience seems to rile him up.

I was way too compliant with him last night.

Sal tilts his head up, making him seem even taller than he normally would be. I can tell he's thinking, wondering, waiting.

Then his gloved hand grips onto my wrist. The coolness of his fingertips is a stark contrast to the warmth of the fabric covering his palm. His digits trail along my skin— up my arm. Slowly in a way that makes me shiver.

I can't stay silent much longer.

A quiet huff can be heard from him just as he gently grabs onto my chin, his thumb caressing the underside of my jaw. My heart thumps wildly against my rib cage and a chill erupts along my skin. His gentle, warning touch is so, so good.

"Tell me why you're looking at me like that," he says lowly, eyes dancing across every inch of my face.

I run my tongue across the front of my teeth, doing my best not to give into him so quickly. He's being gentle— he must think that'll coerce me into behaving, but it won't. It never will. But his tone is a bit mouthwatering, that's the only thing I'm worried about for now.

Neither of us move— I don't even breathe while we look at each other, still waiting.

There's no visual difference when Sal decides he's done playing nice, but I can practically feel it radiating between us. The sudden change in energy, the way the coolness of his touch fills me with excitement instead of little butterflies.

The gentle touch on my jaw does a complete three sixty. He moves his hand, getting a good grip on my jaw. His fingers dig into my cheeks and he pulls me closer, then leans down just a tad.

Sal's cerulean hair brushes my chin and neck, and he watches me closely.

"I don't see why you're still standing."

------- A/N:::::: okay i'm not gonna lie i kindaaaa lowkey hate this chapter :,)) i obviously struggled with it since it's been like a full MONTH since i've posted like wtf????

i'm pretty sure the next chapter will be a lot easier for me to get out though! it's another smut chap ;)

anyway, i'm sure most of you know that i put out an announcement about my health about a week ago. i was really struggling with my mental and physical health and was really stuck. anyway, i went to the doctor and basically he told me i'm so stressed out that i'm making myself physically sick SOOOOOO cheers to me finally getting put on anxiety meds. i'm hoping this improves my health all around and helps me focus on what matters most: you guys and writing <3 i start my meds tomorrow so hopefully it all works

until next time, my babies. all my love to you as always <3333

update: THEY GAVE ME THE WRONG FUCKING PRESCRIPTION LOOOOOL

[holytragedycat]

I'm going to explain what crymua is, because most people in this app (or who speak English) don't know what it is and maybe they'll like it.

Let's start

Crymua is a ship between a Mexican influencer (now also a singer) (Yeri MUA) and a Spanish streamer (Cry) who previously made videos judging and criticizing her, because Yeri was very problematic before and got into a lot of controversies, the ship is created because Cry reacts to Yeri's first song, Yeri is asked about this in a live and she says that she knows that Cry is a boy who makes videos on YouTube talking about her and that she didn't remember if she had ever touched on the topic, she said that Cry is nice and his videos are funny, and says that although Cry has not said a single positive comment, he has his opinion and that there will be many others; Cry reacts to Yeri's reaction and is surprised because he didn't expect her to have anything good to say about him. He says that he even feels guilty and is shocked that she didn't take it personally.

Cry's followers (Cryboyers) start pairing him with Yeri to make fun of him, the ship gets bigger and Yeri and Cry complain about him, saying not to put them together, until they start joking themselves, however they don't speak , they only follow each other on Instagram, they communicate through reactions and fans, for example Yeri is asked again in a live about the ship some time later and she jokes "they are going to make us fall in love by simply matching each other", Cry see this, he says "I don't think so" and then he also jokes "what a pretty bang, hey, don't leave it like that for too long, I'll fall in love."

There were a couple of setbacks, the ship ended for a few days, but Cry put on Twitter (X) "where there was fire ashes remain", skipping all that, Yeri and Cry meet in Mexico City the same night because they both had events and They can meet each other (there were no cameras, not even a photo 😔) Cry and Yeri tell later, they hit it off very well, so 6 days later the long-awaited collaboration arrived (October 26, 2023), they tried on costumes and made Halloween pumpkins, incredibly, broke a record for the most viewed live on Facebook where they broadcast before moving to Twitch, there were 800k viewers, on Twitch there were 600k.

The transmission is about to end because Yeri tells Cry that she had a plan B in case the collaboration became awkward, which was to go to a Vogue event, Cry tells her that she should go, Yeri sends a message to her manager asking if she can take Cry with her and when they say yes, they say goodbye, they got together 2 more times in November (crymua 2.0/ crymua 2.5) and two more in December (for Yeri's birthday) and then for crymua 3 (Christmas) , which was the entire week before the end of the year together. They became best friends (they always clarify this because although they love each other very much, they have only known each other for a short time, they are not a couple) and they do crymua collaborations because they have fun. As extra information, they promised to go to events together whenever they can, they almost got married for a joke, the crymua fandom is called tomatitos and Cry and Yeri got a tattoo <3