#new ideas will be added every now and then

[22ayla21]

Requests where mydei’s can’t sleep at the night, and while his wife’s sleep he start to talk with her pregnant belly aka baby

Nighttime Talks with the Baby

At night, while they think their wife is sleeping, they communicate with their unborn baby.

From the Author: I've already added other men from Amphoreus, as this idea was already in my drafts, I just forgot to post it earlier.

The night in the palace was quiet. Only the faint moonlight filtered through the windows, playing on the walls, and the soft crackling of the fire in the fireplace broke the complete silence. She lay in bed, eyes closed, her breathing even and calm. Her husband, Midey, sat beside her, leaning slightly forward, attentively watching her condition. He thought she was already asleep.

He didn't know she heard every word.

Mydei quietly placed his hand on her stomach, as if he had already grown accustomed to the fact that someone was there now. Her condition was unfamiliar to him, but he had learned to accept it as something natural. He still couldn't believe that a child would soon appear in their family, and the thought of it always evoked something strange in him—not quite relief, not quite mild anxiety.

He rested his forehead against her hand, covered with a blanket, and quietly began to speak. He didn't raise his eyes, thinking she was already asleep. His words were not loud, but each phrase was filled with a care that would never have otherwise come out. He spoke not so much to her as to the baby who had not yet been born, but for whom he was already ready.

"You're already there, little one. We're waiting for you," his voice was soft, almost tender, uncharacteristic of his usual gloominess.

He paused for a moment, then continued, holding back his emotions.

"You will be safe. I will be there, always. Nothing will be able to touch you."

Quietly, like a shadow, he touched her belly, conveying his protection and love with this subtle touch. He felt his heart fill with a new warmth, a new meaning. And it seemed that all this was directed towards this little being who would soon be born.

And just as he sighed quietly, returning to his chair, his attention was drawn to a light hand that briefly squeezed in response to his touch. Unaware of this, Mydei got up to return to another part of the room, not suspecting that she had heard everything.

Moments stretched, and in the silence of the night, only his footsteps sounded, and the invisible connection between him, her, and their future child.

At night, when the silence in the room was almost complete, Anaxa and his wife seemed to sink into their usual rhythm. He, as always, sat in his chair, immersed in his thoughts and books, while she nestled comfortably in bed, almost lulled by the silence of the night.

However, as soon as his wife slightly closed her eyes, he quietly got up and approached the bed. Carefully, so as not to disturb her, he sat on the edge, placing his hand on her stomach. She didn't move, not breaking the peace, but he knew she could hear.

He rarely expressed his feelings in words, but now, when their child had not yet been born, his words sounded with unusual softness.

"I can't wait to see you, but I want you to know: I will always be there, wherever you are. We will learn everything. Everything will be as it should be."

His words were full of deep respect for this little being, and although his voice remained calm, one could feel a subtle thread of excitement hidden behind his outward composure. He paused for a moment, as if listening, then continued:

"You are growing and becoming stronger every day. Maybe you even think of me as a scientific experiment. But you, little researcher, will soon begin your journey."

He smiled at the corners of his lips, but said nothing more, stroking his wife's stomach, feeling every movement, every slight sway of her belly, like a signal from their baby.

Unaware that his wife, despite her apparent drowsiness, was quietly listening to every word, he quietly got up, touching her forehead with a soft kiss, and returned to his chair, immersing himself back into his work.

But her eyes, barely open, remained fixed on those nighttime words, sinking into the silence. She couldn't help but smile, knowing that Anaxa, with his habit of controlling everything around him, had still found a moment of vulnerability. Even if he didn't say everything he wanted, she heard everything that was important to him.

At night, when the silence in the room becomes almost palpable, Phainon stays close to his wife. He can't fall asleep, watching her calm breathing, how her chest rises and falls, and her hair softly spreads across the pillow. He gently places his hand on her stomach, feeling the warmth of her skin, and slowly, almost in a whisper, begins to speak.

He doesn't notice how she, despite her fatigue, is not asleep. Her body is relaxed, her eyes are closed, but her consciousness remains alert. The words that Phainon whispers into the darkness fill her heart with warmth.

"You will be strong, like your mother..." his voice is low, even, and always confident. "I will protect you, I will always be there..." his hand slightly squeezes her stomach, and she feels the strength of his hand at that moment. "When you grow up, you will become great. We will teach you everything I know. But for now, just be healthy..."

He smiles, not seeing her reaction. This little conversation seems natural to him, and it is filled not only with care but also with a promise to be there. He doesn't think about her hearing, that his words are already etched in her heart.

At one point, his voice becomes a little softer, as if he is sharing something intimate, personal.

His wife hears his breathing change slightly, as if he is trying to hide a certain vulnerability. His words wash over her, and she feels his love and care already directed towards their future child.

But she doesn't wake up. She doesn't want to interrupt this moment, doesn't want to show that she hears his every word. She feels how his concern for their child and for her penetrates her own heart, strengthening her confidence that they will overcome any difficulties together, no matter what happens.

[skaiylus]

Made with Love (and a Little Chaos) (Bakugou x gender neutral reader)

I wrote this piece for my lovely wifey @namjoonswifeyy. Words can't describe how much I love & appreciate you & how proud I am of you & your progress. Good job baby! 🥰

The delivery app glowed against the dim light of your room, your thumb hovering over the order button like it was a detonator.

You’d been staring at the screen for what felt like forever, scrolling through the menu, switching between restaurants, adding things to your cart only to delete them seconds later. Your stomach was growling, but every time you got close to clicking “place order,” that familiar guilt crept in.

You’d been doing so well—working out, eating better

What if this made you slip? What if you lost all your progress? What if...

You exhaled sharply and locked your phone.

Then unlocked it again.

Then locked it.

Then—

"Sweets," a familiar voice drawled from the doorway, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

"I told ya—if you want somethin’, just use my damn card and get it."

You turned sharply to see Bakugou leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest, head slightly tilted, his red eyes trained on you like he had you all figured out.

"You’ve been openin’ and closin’ that app so many damn times, I’m startin’ to think you’re tryin’ to teleport the food into your hands with sheer fuckin’ determination."

You huffed, locking your phone like that would stop him from knowing exactly what was going on in your head.

"I’m just thinking."

"Overthinkin’"

He pushed off the doorframe, stepping toward you with that effortless confidence that always made your stomach flip.

The bed dipped as he sat down beside you, and his warmth immediately pressed into your side. Before you could stop him, he grabbed your phone, his sharp gaze flicking over the screen.

"Knew it," he muttered, shaking his head.

"I just… I don’t know. I don’t wanna mess up." you said avoiding his gaze.

Bakugou didn’t say anything at first. His strong, scarred hand made it's way to your cheek - he makes you look at him. His face was close now, his voice lower when he spoke.

"Sweets, you ain't messin' up. You ain't 'ruinin' anything. You wanna eat somethin’? Fuckin’ eat. One meal ain't gonna make a damn bit of difference."

You frowned. "But what if—"

"No." He shook his head, cutting you off.

"No ‘what ifs.’ I ain't lettin’ you sit here and bully yourself into thinkin' you ain't doin’ good. You are.You're doing good.You hear me?"

You swallowed hard, nodding.

"Good." His fingers slid down, knuckles brushing against your cheek, his touch grounding.

"Now, we got two options. One—order the damn food, no guilt, no bullshit. Two—I’ll cook with ya, and we make somethin’ together. Either way, you’re eatin’."

You bit your lip, considering. "You'll actually cook with me? Not just stand behind me and bark orders?"

He scoffed.

"Cheeky.Yeah, I’ll cook with ya. But don’t expect me to go easy on you—I ain’t lettin’ you season like some half-assed amateur."

A laugh finally bubbled out of you, and Bakugou smirked at the sound.

"There we go,new you were in there somewhere." he murmured brushing your cheek again.

"Alright. Cooking it is" you exhaled, tension finally draining from your shoulders

"C’mon then, dumbass. Let’s make somethin’ good" he grinned, standing up and offering you his hand

And just like that, the guilt that had been eating away at you didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

Thirty minutes into cooking, it looked like a battlefield.

Flour dusted the counters, somehow got in your hair, and Bakugou had a streak of something (sauce? batter? The essence of culinary disaster?) on his cheek.

"This is the worst fuckin’ idea I’ve ever had. I should've jus' ordered ," he grumbled, staring at the mess like it had personally offended him.

You snickered, poking his side.

"You? Katsuki Bakugou?Dynamight? Admitting defeat? This is historic. Should I start recording?"

Bakugou shot you a look "Watch it, Sweets."

"Or what? You’ll throw more flour at me?"

That was a mistake. Because the second the words left your mouth, Bakugou grabbed a handful of flour and—

"DON’T YOU DARE—"

Too late. A cloud of white exploded between you as he smacked the flour against your shirt.

"KATSUKI!" you shrieked.

His shit-eating grin was worth every bit of vengeance as you grabbed a handful of flour in retaliation. Before long, it wasn’t even cooking anymore—it was war.

By the time you both called a truce, you were coated in flour, dough, and laughter, the stress from earlier completely forgotten.

"Alright, alright," you wheezed, wiping your face. "Let’s clean up before—"

Ding dong.

Both of you froze.

Slowly, you turned to Bakugou, whose expression had very suddenly turned guilty.

"Katsuki…" - your voice was low. Dangerous even.

"Did you - ?"

A beat of silence. Then—

"Tch. Maybe."

You gawked at him. "You acted all tough and made me cook, but you ordered food anyway?!"

"I—look, I wasn’t gonna.. I can't say no to you, dumbass."

He rubbed the back of his neck, grumbling

Your heart flipped. "So if I hadn’t agreed to cook"

"We’d still be eatin’," he admitted, cheeks a little pink. "I was just lettin’ ya work through your shit. But I ain’t lettin’ you go hungry, Sweets."

"Sofite"

"Shut up," he muttered, flicking your forehead before stalking off to the door.

You grinned, shaking your head as you started wiping down the counters.

Honestly? Best. Cheat day ever

Taglist - send an ask or dm to be added or removed

@buzzyboi79 @0lissa0 @nishikina @bakugosgorl @bakugosbratx @aomi04 @dabis0bitch @bakubabeyy @keisurou @hannas16 @namjoonswifeyy @neko-loogi @stormcloudsbrewing @nymphoheretic @gently-folded-paper-cranes @shoutascoffeepot @slutfor-fictionalmen @dreamcastgirl99 @effy_2000 @sparkyvibes @hotgreenteea @peony-always @fabpops1

[boolger]

Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before 🌻 ch.3

Female reader x Nikolai x Price <-last chapter✨ AO3 link ✨ next chapter -> wc: 10.8k - call of duty - explicit, MDNI. Read the tags. Dead dove don’t eat.

tags: non-consensual elements/rape, bikers AU, biker gang 141, omegaverse, dub-con, non-con touching, harassment, stalking, reader has a vagina, M/M/F threesome, threats, reader has a nickname, loss of parent, original characters, pack dynamics, alpha!John Price, Alpha!Nikolai, omega!reader, forced bonding, loss of virginity, breeding kink, piss kink, scent marking, daddy kink, stun guns, smut, rough sex, knotting, (maybe pregnancy), voyeurism, punishments, noncon spanking, p in v sex, anal sex, overstimulation, claiming barks, uh short appearance of a chopped off body part (action not described but the part will appear shortly)

AN: once again i must thank the ever so sweet @venuskaltrip for helping and dealing with me and all my ideas. and teaching me better than any of my english teachers ever have lol<33

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

Your head hurt a bit the following morning.

It was raining outside your window, dark clouds rumbling now and again, making you stay in your bed a tad longer than usual. You had the day off at least, so you could nurse yourself back to  health. Besides food, you had no urge to get out of bed, almost tempted to hide beneath your blankets all day… perhaps even build a temporary nest, to properly feel safe for a little while.

It was only because of the packages, that you got out of your bed - making a big breakfast, staying awake despite the urge to sleep the day away. You  sipped your tea, impatiently checking your phone again and again, waiting for your things to arrive.

You had paid way too much for the fastest delivery. The sooner you could feel slightly more comfortable in your home, the better.

No, you might not have been fully sober when you had ordered everything, but you had felt as if you were. As if the fear of Price’s words had truly flushed your system and made you think clearly, as you had added more things to your online basket.

Then you had messed around on some more dodgy websites, managing to find a dude that sold stronger stun guns. He hadn’t asked questions as long as you paid and you hadn’t asked questions about how he got them - but he had offered you a nice deal, when you asked if he had pepper spray as well.

All the other stuff you had ordered was legal; another lock, which was one of those fancy ones that you needed a chip to open, a baseball bat to have next to your bed, then a normal lock for the back door. Perhaps the baseball bat was a little excessive but you had dealt with creepy men for two years already - if you needed to step up, then that was what you had to do.

You distracted yourself by looking into apartment prices in the nearest big cities, taking in the prices while looking at your savings. It wouldn’t be impossible - If you could actually make yourself sell the house, you could move into one of those apartments and be able to pay rent while looking for a job.

Abandoning Mary felt wrong in every bone of your body - you knew she would survive, but it was as if you were considering leaving your last parental figure. What would she even do if you left? Probably have to hire someone new, but still — not to mention how to even explain it. Did you even want to tell her that you wanted to move, because you were once again, being harassed by a leader of a biker pack?

Of everyone in the bloody village, it just had to be you.

The sound of the bell at your front door almost made you throw the laptop to the floor and you barely managed to put it on the coffee table, before hurrying to the door.

A moment later, you had your box with locks and another one with a baseball bat. You had never played with one, only been forced to cricket a couple of times and that was a different kind of bat, but you knew the basics. Grab it, raise it and hit the other person. Couldn’t be that hard.

You spent an embarrassingly long time attempting to put in the locks, before caving in and calling Harold and Jenny. They asked questions. Of course they would, it was stupid of you to think that they wouldn’t. Jenny was extremely good at reading people, the teenage beta instantly realising that something was up, even better than her boss.

“It’s uh - just a big house. With only me in it,” the lie felt uneasy on your tongue, but you couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t want to worry the elderly omega nor the young apprentice.

“Are they bothering you?” Jenny asked while Harold was picking up some tools in the car, looking up at you with squinted eyes - watching you in a way that made your palms feel sweaty - and a slightly worried look in her eyes.

You huffed, reminding yourself that you were a strong, proud alpha and you didn’t feel bothered b y a couple of men in leather jackets trying to seem intimidating. So you straightened up, watched Harold and shook your head, another lie slipping from your lips.

“Of course not,” you answered, unable to look at the other, unable to admit to the defeat you felt, “just wanna be sure nobody touches the jewelry mom left.”

Another lie. It was dusty on your tongue, from suddenly having dragged your poor, deceased mother into your lie. There was nobody to fear in the town but the bikers. Yet Jenny let it go and shrugged, before taking the tool box from Harold as he got up the stairs again. Instantly beginning to tell Harold about how she had seen these locks online, while you retreated, watching them without intervening.

You had a lock bolt and a chain lock on the back door already. Now this in the front.

Locks weren't going to save you. Nor were stronger stun guns or pepper sprays. 

Sleep well, little Sunflower.

The locks and illegal weapons might not save you, but they would probably help you sleep a little better. 

… At least until you figured out what to do.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

“Would you be able to find somebody to help you with the cafe if I left?” 

Mary stiffened, not moving for a second; then the older beta spun around, her braids flying at the movement, looking straight at you with a raised eyebrow and suspicion in her eyes.

“What have you done now?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. As if you had done something to ask, like a little naughty kid who often got into trouble. No, for once, you hadn’t done anything. Sure, you had threatened the men with a stun gun, but they were big men. Probably not that  scared of your little weapon.

“Haven’t done anything,” you defended, “jeez, Mary, you sounded like my mother just now.”

Mary softened up a little, a small chuff-like sound leaving her. You looked back down at the dirty cups, continuing to wash them. Rings of dried coffee slowly dissolved into nothing. The water felt hot against your skin, reminding you that you were very much alive; stuck in Millhaven, surrounded by beasts on motorbikes and with a secret that burned in your stomach.

“Are you thinking of moving again?”

You nodded, your back still turned to her, unable to look her in the eyes again. Afraid she would see right through you - figure out that you were hiding things from her. It was uncomfortable in a way, to tell half a lie. As if you had two wounds but only showed the one which hurt the least.

“Are you afraid Graves will come back?”

A part of you wanted to break into laughter from her question; because wasn’t it naive of Mary to believe that Phillips Graves was still alive? She had heard the shots too, the screams, the horrors that had taken over Millhaven that night  - how could she not realise that they were all dead?  Even if Phillip Graves was to rise from whatever shallow grave he had properly disappeared into, he wouldn’t scare you the same way John Price did. Graves was in fact the last thing you feared right now, if you had to be honest with her - but you weren’t… not fully, at least.

“No,” that was a part of the truth, because you were more afraid of what exactly had happened to him, but it melted into lies once more, “I’ve considered getting a degree or some sort of education.”

You hadn’t… not really. Sure, you could. It would probably be a smart enough choice, if you were to leave Millhaven, so that you could get a well paying job or something, but… but as you dared to look over your shoulder, watching Mary, you almost felt like apologising for even suggesting it.

It was as if you were being split in two; the cafe was going well, Mary wasn’t afraid of the group, she would be safe if you left her… but what if she wasn’t? The idea of abandoning her, hell, of abandoning Beatrice and her pack, Enid, Dennis, Carlos, Finn, Alma — it all gave you a bad feeling. 

For a moment, it was as if Mary looked much older than usual; as if her hands had gotten weaker and face gotten more wrinkled in the matter of seconds, her black hair looking a little more on the grey. She would grow old too… would she be alone here? Only her sister to come visit? Would The Gentle Cuppa close? You put the cups down, turning around fully, looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, like a kid aware that she had upset her mother, suddenly feeling small, with the urge to grab onto her skirt and cry into them, “I - I know that was very sudden.”

“It’s okay, Sunflower,” she answered, moving forward to cup your face gently, “I would miss you - but I will also support you.”

There was flour on her hands. Her scent was herbal, like different kinds of dried teas all blended together, with a smell of something purely Mary beneath. She let out a soft rumble, close to a purr, like a mother would do to her pup and you closed your eyes, listening to it and her breaths, trying your best not to break into tears. You wanted the truth to escape your throat, to drip from your mouth and explain to her how you had struggled; how they had been at your house, how it was escalating much quicker than it had with Graves. That Phillip Graves, with all his nastiness and evil, had seemed easier to handle than this new group - you couldn’t read them, never knew what to expect. You were losing more and more control and it scared you.

You let your forehead rest against your boss’. There wasn’t much separation between your work and personal life between you and Mary anyways. They had blurred for years. She was a parent — your parent. You had slept on her tiny couch for three days after your dad passed away. 

“I want you to be happy, my little Sunflower,” her reply was filled with love, “wherever that may take you.”

The idea of leaving her, who you had come to consider your new mother, psychically hurt. 

Leaving or staying; you felt, as if the two options were beginning to pull you apart, the reasons to either stay or leave becoming more and more intricate, less and less simple… People who you cared for were tangled in between those reasons, while The 141 crawled closer and closer in the dark, as if they were waiting for the perfect moment to attack - always nearby, unable to be scared off. 

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

When you weren’t working the next couple of days, you spent hours making lists and mental notes, trying to figure out the pros and cons of your different options. Scribbling down different notes on what to remember, what to consider, who to call. You had to call the bank if you wanted to sell the house and buy an apartment in a bigger city - you had to figure out which town you would move to, which real estate agents to contact.

You needed more fake scent-perfumes and stronger pills. Another way to protect yourself - in order to avoid accidents and in case anything was to happen, the mere possibility scared you.

The following days, it also suddenly seemed like everything was back to normal - sure, different members of the 141 would swing by the cafe and buy things, but none of them bothered you. When you walked home, you would be barked at by Mrs. Henley’s dog and see the chain smoking teenager in the window. You would turn your corner and nobody would be in front of your home; no big motorbike standing in the driveway, no John Price leaving cigar ash on your stairs.

The new locks worked without problems, the chip beeping and unlocking, beeping as it locked behind you — somehow they did make you feel more comfortable. Not to mention the baseball bat next to your bed and the pepper spray and new, stronger stun gun that arrived the next morning.

You hoped, no, you begged, to whichever god who would listen to you, that the men had gotten your hint and that the entire pack would leave you alone now.

As the week had crawled by, the weekend ending with things still staying the same, it did seem like somebody had heard those prayers of yours.

When Monday came around, you began to seem a little more optimistic; it almost seemed like things had died down to the point that the bikers’ interest in you might have died…

Well… Almost. 

Perhaps you had been a bit too optimistic about it.

It began that Monday evening, even if you didn’t truly realise it before Tuesday. Every time you walked home, somebody followed you at a distance. 

It apparently didn’t matter whether it was from the cafe in the late afternoon or at night after a drink in the pub; they always appeared before you got too far, following until you reached your smaller road with your blue house at the end. 

Everyone following you appeared to be one of the women in the gang - it seemed to be a task only the three of them had been given and they followed you dutifully, like unwanted guard dogs. Only one of them attempted to be slightly discreet with their stalking task; the two others not even seeming bothered by the fact that you knew and looked straight at them.

Whether they had specifically been told to do this because none of the men could be bothered — or because they believed you might be less uncomfortable with women following you home, you didn’t really know. In all honesty, it didn’t really matter. It could have been any of the members from the shitty biker gang, whatever gender and secondary gender they might have, and it would have made you upset.

It felt insane to you that they didn’t realise that it was the whole “stalking you as you walk home”-aspect of it that made you upset. Though you doubted that the thickheaded alpha that was John Price would understand that.

The alpha woman that had followed you the second night, had not seemed intimated in any kind of way, as you angrily demanded for her to fuck off and stop following you. She had long dark hair, pulled back into a long braid and sharp features with intense eyes - an attractive alpha, hadn’t she been following you. The small woman had merely raised an eyebrow at you, said nothing and merely waited for you to turn around again, only to continue walking behind you.

Wednesday was the third night in a row and when you growled at the second woman, a tall, muscular beta woman with short hair and familiar-looking jacket and when you demanded that she let you walk home alone, she had merely laughed out loud. Then she had said something in what you assumed to be Spanish, but as you didn’t speak the language, you didn’t know what - so you had growled loudly at her again, walking home even faster than before, ignoring her laughter as you stomped angrily the entire way.

With Thursday a new woman appeared; this evening it was a blonde, bonded omega who, just like the others, didn’t seem one bit intimidated by you. Instead she looked slightly amused, if not a little bored, as you dared to walk towards her, telling her to piss off. You weren’t sure why you tried, as it hadn’t with the others but the woman, her leather jacket almost fully covered in small metal spikes, had merely taken a drag of her cigarette and tipped her head to the side, before actually replying. ”I’m merely goin’ for a walk, Sunny. Don’t ya’ have to get home? It’s cold outside.”

You snarled at her calm words, the way she spoke to you and you considered making a scene, scream at her and draw attention from the people in the little town, for them to look out the window. 

Instead you went with the familiar choice and turned around, walking home while cussing out the entire biker gang.

At this point it was getting ridiculous. You couldn’t even walk home alone anymore, couldn’t listen to Mrs. Henley’s dog barking at you nor watch the chain-smoking teenager without being bothered by the bikers. Those simple pieces of freedom had been taken from you as well. The things you used to enjoy doing were narrowing down, day by day.

Sure, you had hated Graves and the Shadow’s presence in Millhaven, but by now you already hated John Price and the 141 even more. Being able to walk home alone shouldn’t be impossible without being bothered. You just wanted to enjoy the sounds of Millhaven as the little town went to supper or to bed - you wanted the freedom to be able to walk home, without fear scratching its way into your bones.

Next day, it was the blonde omega once more; it was Friday, Enid had celebrated her birthday, so you had drunk a bit more than usual. Two pints, four shots and a fancy drink that Enid hadn’t liked and with the alcohol warming your body, you tried to ignore your stalker while walking home. Humming, unable to walk in a straight line, but in a better mood than usual.

You were certain the woman was there though; you could hear her familiar heavy boots, her huffing and puffing of the cigarette - and the wind blew her scent in your direction. Bonded, female omega. It couldn’t be any other. You flipped her off over your shoulder and her soft laughter confirmed that she was in fact there, watching you walk.

This entire week, with your changing, annoying guard dogs behind you, you had tensed up whenever you had turned from the main road to the smaller one where you lived; feared that there would be motorbikes in your driveway, that they would stand in front of your house, waiting.

Every time you had been worried while turning the corner. Would they be there again to bother you, their eyes watching you, sniffing the air and taunting you? Or would you once again be lucky and able to get inside without any of them in the way? 

But as they hadn’t been there all week, your drunk mind had assumed tonight would be the same. That you would be able to waltz inside, lock everything up, eat some leftovers and fall asleep with the baseball bat in your hand. That the only harassment of the day was the chain-smoking woman a couple of steps behind you.

A deep sigh escaped you when you turned the corner and looked towards your blue house at the end of the road, continuing to walk, swaying slightly from side to side due to the alcohol. If they were gonna be here every time you got slightly drunk, you really needed to cut down.

For once there were only two of them.

They stood right in front of your blue home, like predators waiting for a prey to return to its nest. Their bloody bikes taking up space in your driveway. You sincerely hoped that a gust of the wind would make their vehicles tip over; maybe break one of the small rear way mirrors or even better, scratch the paint.

Of course John Price was one of the pair, sitting on the small staircase to the front door as usual; smoking his cigar, blocking your way inside.

By now you were tired of people you didn’t like or know, being in front of your house - the alcohol was still making you feel warm, curling along your ribs and making your head feel heavy. It seemed to swallow up most of your fear, so you let your growing frustration take over, confidence seeping into it.

You didn’t need to be close to know who the other was - the Russian, Nikolai or whatever you were supposed to call him - and while he was smoking a cigar as well, he was standing up at least. Similarly he was also staring at you, as  you walked towards the house. They seemed like well fitting mates in that way, you supposed.

Yet, it seemed to be the hunger in their similar way of looking at you, which made you uncomfortable; like they wanted to sink their teeth into your skin and rip your meat from your bones — feast on your organs, blood dripping from their chins and swallow up the fear it created. But you just stared back at them, not backing down or looking away, even as they tried to look intimidating. You stomped towards them, only stopping a few metres from them. Finally, it was like your little bubble of anger popped.

“Stop makin’ your bloody minions follow me every day, you twats!” You snarled angrily, words slightly slurred, trying to make yourself look a little bigger as you growled.

The two alphas smiled — almost grinned — as if entertained by your demand and it made you want to scream; it was such a simple but effective way of acting superior towards you, taunting you and your inner omega.

It was the Russian one who was first to speak.

”Milaya,” he almost cooed, taking a few steps towards you, the lit cigar between two of his thick, tattooed fingers with the many rings, the last bits of smoke escaping his mouth,  “we’re only making you get home safe.”

Home safe — home safe? 

You let out a loud sound of annoyance, disbelief at his words and you were unable to help yourself from growling once more, one of your hands sliding into the pocket of your jacket. 

”The only dangerous thing in this town is your fuckin’ group of wankers!,” you hissed, “So get them to stop!”

Your anger seemed to do nothing but amuse the big alphas and god, you wanted so badly to plant your first in the Russian’s face - then in Price’s. Nikolai laughed, before taking a drag of the cigar, blowing the smoke in your direction before saying something in Russian, which made Price laugh too.

Their actions made you feel small and harmless, made you feel stupid for even attempting to go against them - trying to seem aggressive and dangerous which they barely acknowledged.

Control was slipping from your sweaty fingers, even as you desperately attempted to cling to it, sink your dull claws into it.

Nikolai walked a little closer; you stood your ground, the alcohol making you slightly lightheaded. Of course it would be tonight, when you weren’t even fully sober, that the two of them would come at you. Fucking bastards. 

You just wanted to be able to go to the pub without them being here when you returned home.

”Listen, you knotheads,” you snapped, baring your teeth for a second, to show you weren’t backing down, glad they couldn’t see your hidden ones, “You can’t rent the garage, I’ll never fucking let ya - so you might as well just drop it. Find somewhere else!”

The low chuckle that escaped Price made your eyes flicker over to him as he still sat on the stairs, tipping his head to the side a little.

“Oh, how that’s peculiar,” John Price mused, watching you with a glint in his eyes, tattooed fingers grabbing the cigar after taking another drag, “because you’ve sure  been looking at a lot of nearby real estate agents online this last week - bunch of apartments in London and Manchester, too. Funny for you to look at, if you’re not leavin’ and will never let us have this house, innit?”

In truth, you almost pissed your pants from the shock - it was mere luck that you didn’t.

Sitting like that, the big alpha pretended to not seem like a threat; slightly hunched over, relaxed stance and almost looking like a father enjoying a smoke in peace - but in reality, he seemed like a demon who had crawled up from the sewers, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

Any sense of control that you might have had a brief minute ago was gone, together with any confidence. His words filled your lungs with fright, forced horror into your bloodstream; unable to breathe, to speak, to snap back at him. Defending yourself against something so intense, almost felt meaningless - you swayed, telling yourself it was from the alcohol, but you knew it might also be from what he actually told you.

They had been watching you, not only physically, but somehow they had gotten your access to your online history as well. Unknowingly, it seemed like most of your privacy had been ripped from your hands — you were unprepared for this, for this kind of stalking, this kind of dark, strange behaviour, with a big pack that didn’t respect your boundaries. Graves had been nothing compared to this and it was like all of your hopes and dreams of being left alone by these men had been torn and ruined without your knowledge.

Your voice trembled, all courage suddenly gone from your body.

“Please leave me alone.” It was the first time that you let yourself be this vulnerable in front of them and even if you immediately regretted it, you felt unable to do anything else. Hardly able to keep on your legs, to keep your cool and not just scream and bolt.

To your horror but perhaps not surprise, John Price smiled over your begging words, a rumble appearing from deep inside his chest. The driveway began to smell from the pheromones escaping the two men, their pleased not to mention lustful, scents overwhelming.

It was like the ground beneath you had been ripped away and you felt helpless, desperate to grasp at any sense of control, attempting to escape the situation which seemed to spiral in such a short time.

You had almost forgotten the presence of Nikolai, too shocked by Price admitting to the pack having stalked your online movements - he walked closer but instead of walking close towards you, he began to circle you; like a beastly creature, considering how to kill its victim in the best way and it made you grip your stun gun a little harder than before, almost pulling it out. 

It felt like the weapon, feeble as it was, would be your only means of safety right now - though you doubted it would save you for long.

”Let go of that, Milaya,” Nikolai’s voice was dark, calm, his stench of alpha growing stronger, as he continued to circle you, “you don’t know what to do with it anyways.”

Degrading you once more, reminded you that you were backed into a corner - and for some reason, some bloody reason, you found yourself following the alpha’s command, following the deep timbre, the power — your grip loosening a little around the stun gun. It was as if your body followed the order even if your mind didn’t agree, because maybe, just maybe, he was right - you had never tried it, barely knew how to use it, did you? You felt it fall to the bottom of your pocket again, your hand slowly pulling back. You were unable to look over your shoulder at him, unable to look at Price, the shame overwhelming you as Nikolai let out a pleased hum, whispering a few Russian words.

”You’ve always had a spot for soft, weak women, eh, Captain?” Nikolai crooned, his voice suddenly appearing behind you, much closer to you than before, while Price laughed again. Humiliation. Price was grinning like a dangerous beast and the description of you rushed through your mind again and again. Soft - weak - you did as an alpha commanded, just because of the tone of his voice. The stream of self hating thoughts were broken as Nikolai was even closer than before, having moved silently, his big arm slipping around your stomach, pulling you back into his body, as close as he could, his face fully pushed into your neck. So close to your scent gland, sniffing at you like a pervert. The other hand sliding to hold onto your hip, cigar between two fingers.

”Smellin’ so synthetic, milaya, like —“

Before even considering what you were doing, you moved; all but ripping your stun gun from your pocket, flipping the little safety switch with a quick motion before pressing it against the exposed part of his tattooed neck, close to his jaw.

With a surprised shout the Russian alpha let go of you, staggering back a couple of steps, clearly in pain, though he didn’t collapse, merely having dropped the cigar — you were quick to turn fully around and stare at him, growling as he began to snarl at you. Keeping your small weapon raised towards him.

John fucking Price did nothing to help his mate, instead he was howling with laughter from his spot on the stairs. It felt as if the sound of him laughing this loudly was echoing through the little street, going straight into your mind, blurring together with your fear and adrenaline. 

While Price was clearly entertained, the Russian in front of you was clearly enraged instead - even though Nikolai was badly lit by the streetlights, you could see enough of him to know he was far, far from happy. His bared teeth shone, tongue out, exposing his silver tongue piercing, every breath accompanied by a deep growling sound. His shoulders were slightly raised, his large hands balled into fists, his body tense and clearly ready to attack again, if allowed. There was a vague, barely there,  stench of burned flesh in the air.

You felt pride over having been successful, showing the men that you weren’t weak, weren’t afraid to defend yourself. You swayed a little, perhaps from the intensity of the situation, not feeling much more alcohol in your body. You had gained some sort of power with the stun gun, some protection, even if it was an electric and short lived kind of protection, but it was better than nothing. Your hand was gripping the device so tightly that you almost feared it would break.

“You know, Sunny,” Price casually said, apparently done with laughing and you dared to look over at him as he rose from the stairs, taking a few steps towards you in a relaxed manner, “a couple of locks aren’t gonna keep us out, heh.”

He took another drag of his cigar, not looking away from you — Nikolai’s rumble making you fear the Russian attacking once more, keeping the stun gun raised like a knife towards him. You were almost considering getting the pepper spray out of your other pocket.

You felt unsure about which of them to look at - if one would attack you if another distracted you, your mind swimming even if you had burned through most of the alcohol by now.

Logically you knew that Price was right; the locks at your doors, the pepper spray in your pocket, the baseball bat next to your bed and the stun gun in your hand would not keep the pack away in the long run. But the idea of giving up, of not even attempting, felt like going against everything you had been raised to do.

Their pack, bigger than any you had seen before, would be no match against only you, not to mention the fact that the two men in your driveway were actual alphas. Just like you had attempted to be ever since you were a teenager, in order to escape men just like them.

Price let out a “tsk tsk” at you, as if you were a disobedient child, as if you were beneath him in the hierarchy of the pack you weren’t a part of, an alpha ready to remind a misbehaving pack member of their place. He walked a little closer, taking yet another drag of his cigar, clearly not fearing you.

Would any of your neighbours be watching you, you wondered - would any of them do anything? Or would they leave you to your own demise, retreat from watching you in the window, unable to watch your destiny?

”Soft, dangerous alpha,” the much older alpha demeaningly crooned at you, smiling once more as you snarled at him, Price’s words hitting harder than you wanted to ever admit, “unlucky for you, we really like your pretty lil’ house…”

”Too fucking bad!” You snapped, “it—“

”But we also really like you,” he cut in, making you stare at him - he stepped closer and it was as if you forgot everything about the stun gun, enthralled by his presence;  as he looked down at you, the almost amused expression on his face suddenly turned darker, colder - like a switch had been flipped, making him look even more frightening than before, “Nik ‘nd I find you quite cute.”

Cute? Alphas weren’t described as cute, they weren’t supposed to be that. It was a stereotypical dig at you, implying you were bad at your secondary gender, unable to live up to what was expected of you by society.

”I- I’m not—“

”Oh, I’m sure you’re not, pet,” he replied easily, taking a drag of the cigar, blowing the smoke in your face just a moment later, almost making you cough ���But we will convince you - maybe ya’ wanna be courted like a lil’ proper alpha, eh?”

”No,” you replied instantly, ignoring the stinking smell of smoke that entered your nostrils, “I don’t want to be courted at all!”

You stepped back, slightly to the side, only to be reminded of Nikolai as he rumbled at you once more, his eyes still dark, tongue slowly wetting his lips. As if getting ready to pounce.

”Hmm,” John hummed, not following you as you retreated, only to casually ask, “perhaps courted as an omega then?”

The question, no, the mere word omega, took you so off guard that you stumbled backwards, Nikolai catching you with a purr, delighted with your fear - the stench of lust overwhelming you. Forgetting everything about the stun gun in your hand, you bolted.

They let you, but it didn’t matter if they had followed or not, not with the amount of terror in your body. You slammed the door close after you, hearing the locks before you sprinted further into your house. Your home.

It took ages before you felt able to breathe.

You could barely sleep that night; you weren’t even in your parents’ bed, but beneath it, hiding in the dusty darkness with a blanket and a big kitchen knife in your hand.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

Liar.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

The lies seemed to spill even easier from your lips than usual, the actual truth stuck in your throat, burning inside it. You were becoming a bigger and bigger liar with every untrue statement that seeped out from between your teeth, despite when you tried holding them back. They had started like the usual ones, thin and white lies, but they grew bigger and bolder - you were digging your grave bigger and bigger. Because you’re fine… yeah, you’re fine, everything is good, you’re just a little busy.

“I’ve just been considering studying something else.” “No, I’m not more worried than usual, why are you asking, Carlos?” “It’s all good Mary, don’t worry about it.” “O-m-g, Bea, stop asking, you muppet, it's really nothing.” “Enid, I think I would have noticed if someone was following me home, that’s a ridiculous idea.” “Nah, I don’t need a lift home, but thank you, luv.”

Lies, lies and even more lies.

They had left you alone for a couple of days - the male members, that was. The three women didn’t, following you home like guard dogs, pretending it was normal behaviour. You stopped yelling at them, even though it still pissed you off every time you saw them. It made you wonder if they were just as tired of it as you — surely they had better, if not more interesting, things to do.

You add even more locks. On the windows too, ignoring the biker that stood at the corner to the main road, watching you do so. You played with the thought of putting up security cameras or getting an alarm system.

Mary seemed to be onto you - you were sure. It felt like the paranoia of being figured out by either party was gnawing its way, deeper and deeper into your bones. She was worried, but you lied, again and again. Mary was far from stupid however - you knew she was gathering up anything you let slip, even if she played along with your lies about moving away to study. It was becoming less and less about the mere idea of studying - and more a desperate escape.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

Lewis had raised his bushy eyebrows when you had ordered sparkling water with lemon instead of your usual pint - but he hadn’t commented on it, just nodding along, humming like he always did before talking about the weather as if it was the most interesting thing in Millhaven. As if people should visit just to see the darkening, candy floss looking clouds at this time of the year. 

No, you just needed to cut down on alcohol. No particular reason, of course.

Beatrice was sitting next to you, trying to beat you in the card game. One of her pack mates had joined for once and Luna beat the two of you constantly, your pride in your card game ability taking one hit after another.

“Are you sure you’re not having problems with them?” Luna was in the bathroom, when Beatrice asked, the ginger woman looking worried. You had already told her - and the others - that you didn’t have any, but you knew they could put two and two together. Something was up - it was hard to deny that you were being followed home on the daily, since the bikers weren’t even trying to be discreet anymore.

”Who?” Playing dumb like a child wouldn’t help you much since Beatrice was a teacher and the look you got from her just confirmed it.

“You know who,” she replied, giving you a little kick beneath the table, “My ladies are worrying. Seen more of them follow you.”

”Do you kick your students too?”

”Stop changing the subject, Sunny.”

Finally you shrugged.

”They want to rent my house - or well, specifically the garage,” your voice wasn’t that loud and you were looking at the badly cut piece of lime in your sparkling water. Lime. You had ordered lemon, but Lewis had just shrugged and said they needed the lemons for the fish and chips, “Don’t fancy letting them, so they’re trying to intimidate me, I guess.”

“Sunflower,” she whispered almost in horror and damn, she barely called you by your full nickname, “why didn’t you say anything??”

Once again you shrugged and once again your friend stared at you, like you refused to tell her the secret of life.

”I don't find them scary,” You falsely admitted, as if you weren’t speaking with a hushed voice so that none of the members in the pub would hear you, “It’s stupid, I’m not gonna let myself be pressured even if they follow me like desperate puppies.”

Beatrice didn’t say anything. The soundtrack of the pub around you swallowed up any of your thoughts for a moment as you wondered how the fuck you came to this point. When you can’t even tell Beatrice the entire truth.

The door to the bathroom opened and Luna made her way towards the two of you again.

”Please - if you need help, just let us know, yeah?” Bea finally asked before Luna joined you. You have to keep yourself from blurting out that there wasn’t anything to do about it anyways. What are you, even with Bea’s pack behind you, supposed to do with a full on motorbike pack that most likely killed the former pack. You just nodded and asked Luna if she was ready to get beat in the next round of cards.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

You knew it was impossible for you to hide your little day trip - you, leaving your house on your day off? With how little privacy you seemed to have left, it would have been more baffling to you if they hadn’t discovered you by the bus.

What you hadn’t expected was for one of them to stop next to you, pulling off the helmet, grinning at you like he had won the lottery by seeing you. You recognised the Scot from one of the unwanted visits in your driveway, but the grim reaper wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

”Where ‘re ye going, hen?” He asked, not even bothering to hide how he watched you with a hungry, nasty look in his eyes. Stupid haircut, tattoos that were probably Gaelic inspired or something - the amount of piercings in his face made you wonder if he could even walk through a metal detector without having to remove every single one.

”None of your business.”

”Naw, lass, dinnae be like that,” he actually pouted, like a kicked puppy, before offering you a helmet from his lap, “want a lift?”

You stared at the helmet. Black, with their logo in the back. You had never ridden on a motorbike and in all honesty, you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

”No thanks.”

”Ach, hen, we both ken that I’m just gonna tail the bus the entire way,” he said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world to say, wagging his pierced eyebrows, “C’mon, it’ll be fun - you dinnae have to wait for yer bus then.”

You stared at him for a moment, before checking your watch. It seemed like the bus was late and you wondered if the universe was trying to punish you.

“No.”

“I’ll buy ye lunch, bonnie,” the beta continued, apparently not giving up, “anything ye want - I’m Soap by tah way - I’ll let ye use mah card for shopping too an—“

”Fine,” you finally snapped, stealing the stupid helmet out of his hand, “but if you crash that bloody thing I’ll break your neck!”

The pure look of glee on this Soap’s face reminded you of a teenage boy managing to ask a girl out for tea. Hadn’t he most likely been a dangerous piece of shit, you probably wouldn’t have agreed. At least he wasn’t Price or Nikolai - then you would rather have walked.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

The few instructions he had given you didn’t save you from the terror rushing through your body as he drove. Your breakfast felt as if it was sitting up in your throat, attempting to escape, life flashing by as you were unable to even keep your eyes open. You didn’t even need to look to know that he was driving waaaay past the speed limit.

Fucking twat.

It was embarrassing how you clung to him, how your fingers dug into his leather jacket, convinced you would fall off at the next turn if you didn’t hold on.

You didn’t fall off, but you did curse him to the moon and back. As you finally reached the bigger town and stopped, you didn’t comment on the closed off small garage they seemed to have here. No tools to work on their bikes, but it clearly wasn’t the first time they were here.

As you walked towards downtown, you tried your best to ignore him but he just wouldn’t shut up. He wasn’t Nikolai or Price, but he still stood out - or perhaps it was you who stood out against him. You were dressed in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt with a hoodie over, a sunflower embroidered on your chest. It was one of your favorite hoodies and usually you could enjoy it on your own, but he seemed interested in it as well, blabbering on about your nickname.

When you reached a familiar spot, close to an alleyway that you recognised - you made a quick choice.

”Thank you for the lift,” you said as abruptly stopped walking, watching the beta stop a few steps later, walking back to you like a guard dog who didn’t want to lose you, “you can leave now.”

The big man looked at you, even tipping his head to the side. There was a big scar over his temple, tattoos curling around it, as if the wound had tried to swallow up the illustrations. Then, after a moment of silence, he grinned again.

”Ye’re welcome, pet,” he answered, moving to sling his arm around your shoulder, “And dinnae worry, Sunny bunny, I’m nae busy today.”

Sunny bunny. Graves’ face flashed before your eyes, blood dripping from the cut on his cheek, grinning like a maniac as he cooed out the awful nickname. Sunny bunny. 

Sunny bunny.

You instantly wanted to throw up all over him or plant a fist in his face. You didn’t, instead you followed your backup plan in case he refused to let you go - hand shooting into your pocket, grabbing the black plastic, flicking the switch on it.

You had tried it once before and been successful, sure, but it was not something you felt confident in doing. With a swift motion you pushed the handheld device against his skin, prongs pressing against it; the stun gun crackled against his neck as you did so, barely audible over his yelp - Soap seemed so caught off guard, that his grip on your shoulder loosened and then you were off. 

The sound that left him, a yelp, no perhaps closer to a pathetic scream like he was an actual puppy, had been music to your ears - if you hadn’t been so busy running off, you might have enjoyed it a lot more.

You didn’t see any reason to stay behind to see if anyone would help you, so instead you disappeared into the maze of the dirty alleyways in between the many buildings.

Not that you were much of a runner, but you knew your way around these streets, had gotten run around plenty of times between buildings and backyards, in order to find someone who would sell you illegal pills. Besides, you knew where the larger crowds were in this town, which was perfect to blend into.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

Several unknown numbers had attempted to call you not long after, but you ignored every single one of them, turning your phone off as texts began to appear as well.

You merely wandered around, buying unnecessary things for an entire hour, your pulse so high that it almost hurt. You didn’t really need sunglasses, but now you had some cheap ones on your face, hoodie tied around your waist as you sat in a cafe,  applying nail polish as you saw him wander past almost two hours later, not noticing you — animatedly talking into his phone.

Perfect, so he had been serious about this - they didn’t even want you to do something as simple as let you go shopping on your own. Sure, you had plans of getting illegal drugs, but they were a literal criminal gang, so it didn’t seem like an excuse to cut off more of your privacy. 

Somehow the tea tasted even worse when you couldn’t see him anymore. Briefly, very briefly, you considered just leaving everything behind - get on another bus, perhaps a train, abandon everything at home. But the mere idea disappeared together with the tea as you drank the last of it, knowing it was nothing but a childish daydream. You couldn’t abandon everything like that, not without any explanation to Bea, Mary, Enid, Carlos — everyone.

You forced your claws out, the dull things appearing beneath your normal, now painted blue, nails. Perhaps you should sharpen them again. 

You were thankful that your father had taken the choice when you represented, no matter how ambivalent you sometimes felt about hiding your secondary gender now; as if he had known that you being a young, pretty omega would bring you nothing but trouble in a town with a biker gang. He had been right, Graves had lusted after you even though you were an ‘alpha’ - the idea of how he would have acted if you were an omega? … you didn’t like the thought. 

People-watching while your nails were drying could only entertain for so long. You needed to buy things - that was why you had gone to town after all. After making sure that the Scottish beta wasn’t anywhere nearby, you went along with your plans of the day.

A specific shampoo that you really liked — you should treat yourself with all the shit going on in your life right now — scent patches and pheromones blockers from the pharmacy, a new mascara and nail oil. You felt tense the entire time but somehow you managed to avoid Soap while shopping, flinching at everyone nearby with a hint of a Scottish accent.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

The plastic bag in your lap felt heavy; not from the actual weight, but from the problems the content carried which you had to confront once the bus would stop. Somehow you had managed to avoid the beta ever since tasing him and you doubted he would just let that go - you had seen him looking for you after all. If you were lucky, he would merely scold you or something like that.

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally.

Normally it would have taken a one-hour trip with the bus to get home, but you had taken a different one to avoid meeting Soap, which drove to another small town, from which you had taken yet another one - it had almost been two hours when you finally got off. Your body felt stiff and you couldn’t help a yawn escaping you as you got out, in the different end of the town than usual, but it didn’t really matter. You were mostly relieved by the lack of bikers by the bus stop.  

As you stood there, illuminated by the streetlight, you considered not even heading home. You could go to Mary, you knew she would let you in without hesitation, even if she didn’t know the entire situation - you had slept on her couch before, covered by one of her knitted blankets and woken up to freshly baked bread. Otherwise you could go to Beatrice and her pack; they would let you in, no questions asked - at least at first, the interrogation would start later - and you would sleep in their little guest room, with the lavender smelling duvet.

You had to go home. You knew that, but that didn’t mean you wanted to. You couldn’t stay away forever, they would be there tomorrow if you didn’t come home today. You hesitated for a moment before pulling your phone from your pocket. It had been turned off all day and you wondered if they could have tracked you if it hadn’t - was that even possible? Or were you just being paranoid again?

As the screen lit up and you unlocked it, notifications from unanswered calls and texts instantly overwhelmed you. Bloody hell. They had tried to call you 22 times - or at least, four different phone numbers you didn’t know had, but you doubted it could all be scammers. There 32 text messages - you ignored every single one from an unknown number, only opening one from Mary who asked if you could work tomorrow.

You shot her a confirmation while you began to walk home, for once not followed by a biker - no, you were actually walking alone for once. You avoided most of the streetlights, staying as much in the dark as possible.

Since you came from the opposite direction, you couldn’t walk past your usual spots and you wondered if the teenager was smoking again today. If Mrs. Henley’s dog had gone to bed, if people were still at the pub or the shops.

But you had to turn around the corner eventually, even if it was from the opposite side. Despite hoping, almost praying for the driveway to be empty, for nobody to stand in front of your blue house, well, that wasn’t the case.

They instantly spotted you. Of course they did.

For once you weren’t drunk, merely sober and frightful. Turning around or just walking by to go stay at Mary’s or Beatrice’s was still tempting, however, you knew they would simply follow you. Besides, your feet hurt and all you wanted was some food and sleep. Sealing your fate, you walked towards them, attempting to keep yourself composed. As if you weren’t fearing having to deal with them after what had happened today.

Soap was not one of the three men, which surprised you. You had expected for him to be there, arms crossed and demanding an apology since you got a lift and then ditched him… after tasing him.

Despite it not being the case, you felt like your footsteps echoed through the street. You wondered if making a scene would help you, if screaming and drawing attention to you and to them being in your driveway, would keep the bikers from doing anything wild.

Probably not. 

You recognised Nikolai, the bear of a man was leant against one of the garage doors, arms crossed, only slightly visible because of the street light - John Price was at your stairs again, smoking one of the usual cigars. It made you wonder if that was everything he did - order his pack around, smoke cigars and bother people. 

The last guy, more lit up. watched you with an almost curious look. Like he wasn’t believing that you were the one they were waiting for.

He had short hair, a beard with a mustache that stood out the most - the street light made his prosthetic leg glint a little, but it was his scent and the change of the look in his eyes that caught most of your attention. A gust of wind forced their scents into your face, the different smells so intense that it almost made you nauseous for a moment. The nausea seemed to be a pattern whenever they were around you, your mind darkly supplied.

Lust. Anger. The scent that Nikolai and Price seemed to share - and then a scent that had taken you two seconds to recognise. It was the scent from one of the female members who had followed you home - the alpha woman with the long braid, if you weren’t wrong. It seemed like the entire pack had mates within it.

The beta stranger stared at you with an angry look that was different from the dark ones from the two alphas. While there seemed to be seeping lust into the two older men’s stares, there was seemingly nothing but rage in his stare - like a wolf, having focused fully on its prey, waiting for the sign to attack from its members.

You stopped a few steps further away than usual, one hand holding onto your bag like it was a precious treasure - in many ways it was. You wanted to hit yourself for not thinking about putting your illegal pills in your jacket, instead of letting them stay in the bag. Easy to spot if one rummaged around a little.

Your other hand slid into the jacket pocket - tensing a little at the lack of a stun gun. It was in the other pocket - instead there was the cool metal of the pepper spray bottle pressing against your skin. It was better than nothing.

You hadn’t said anything, the seconds had passed and you had merely waited, as you knew they would say something sooner rather than later - something nasty or something to make you upset. 

… and you weren’t wrong.

”It’s a pretty car in your garage.”

Nikolai’s voice was like a dark timbre from behind the stranger, his hand knocking against the garage door twice - and you saw red. You knew exactly what car - your dad’s car, YOUR car.

You knew the alpha said it to upset you, knew they wanted a reaction out of you and despite this, you still gave it to them; you growled deeply, deeper than you had before - as if it came from your chest, from your childhood self that was still protective over the unfixed car hidden beneath plastic and blankets. Your claws forced themselves out without your consent, as if you were getting ready to attack them, one against three.

“Easy, kitten.” Price suggested from the stairs, but you didn’t stop your growling immediately, especially not with that nickname - it died down slowly, like you were proving a point to not follow his orders like his small minions. But the man just looked at you, eyes dark but with a growing smile on his face.

“What things did you buy today then, Sunflower?” You felt all three men’s stares at you, as Price asked and you tightened the grip around the plastic bag - and around the pepper spray in your pocket, “- must have been somethin’ special, since you didn’t want a lift home from Soap.”

You huffed from amusement, the memory of Soap letting out a not quite masculine scream was still fresh in your mind - the youngest of the men, the beta closest to you, growled lowly at you. Apparently he didn’t find the situation amusing like you did.

“I’m quite capable of shopping on my own,” you finally replied, looking back at Price, squinting slightly at the leather clad alpha, unable to keep your voice from raising, “just like I’m capable of going places on my own. So stop makin’ all your little biker idiots stalk me - and don’t go snooping in my fucking garage!”

You were bordering on screaming, the deep boned anger and exhaustion of their constant harassment almost spilling over - the pure frustration over even having to tell people to give you some personal space felt surreal to you.

The wind got more intense for a second, making the trees and bushes in the gardens around you noisily sway  - the wind curled between the houses along the road, almost sounding like it was breathing hard too; swallowing up the silence that followed your little outbreak.

It was Price who broke the silence first by, once again, laughing - only this time, the two others joined him.

Their condescending reaction made your toes curl; you felt small. 

“What are you gonna do, tiny Sunflower?” Nikolai asked, mockery clear in his voice, as he tipped his head up a little, grinning at you, mostly swallowed by the dark, “Little taser of yours cannot keep us away forever, no?”

You were horrified by the mere fact that you knew he was right. Your already limited options of what to do were becoming less and less. You doubted calling the police right now would help, just like you doubted that your neighbours would all run out with kitchen knives and garden rakes if you screamed. No, you truly should have sold them the house the first time they even seemed interested in renting it, and gotten your ass out of Millhaven.

You didn’t feel like a strong alpha right now - and no matter how humiliating it was, you almost stammered out the words ‘just take the bloody house and let me go’. But then the front door to your blue house opened.

It didn’t take more than two seconds to recognise the woman standing in your front door. You didn’t know her name, but you didn’t even need to, her leather jacket and familiar scent instantly made you know who she was. The only one of the 141 women to ever speak directly to you.

One thing was her following you home, blatantly walking a couple of steps behind you - another thing was her breaking into your house. The many locks, one more fancy than the other, had clearly not kept them out. She was slightly illuminated by the light from your hallway, like a villain revealing herself.

“Get out of my fuck—“ The words got stuck in your throat. She hadn’t even bothered to look at you, merely looked down at Price who was sitting on the stairs; holding up a bottle that you knew too well.

 

A bottle of false alpha scent.

Price killed his cigar against your staircase, no doubt leaving a mark on the three, a pleased grin on his face, as the woman gave him the bottle. He merely raised it to his nose and took a quick sniff before he looked straight over at you; his grin turned from amusement to wickedness, like a feral alpha getting the scent of an unmated omega — which, sadly, wasn’t far from the truth.

You took a step back, the beta easily following, watching you like a hawk. The bag in your hand was shaking.

”You are no alpha,” it was more of a statement than a question from Nikolai, who pushed himself away from the garage door, taking a few steps towards you as well, “Beta or omega then - but I think you are small, confused omega, milaya.”

Run. Run. Run.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Like a disappointed parent, John Price shook his head as he rose, leaving the bottle of fake scent on the stairs, tipping his head to the side, “Such a mess - but don’t worry Sunflower, we will help you out.”

Run. Run. Run. 

You panicked, words tumbling out of your mouth while your inner omega was screaming at you. 

“You can rent the house - hell, buy it!” You rushed out, “you won’t even ha- i'll sell it for cheap!”

You weren’t stupid; it wasn’t an offer they were giving you, not with how they have been bothering you for weeks, not with how they stared at you, how the horny alpha pheromones began to fill the air around you. The bag slid from your hand, hitting the asphalt with a thunk but none of you reacted.

Run. Run. Run.

You carefully popped the lid of the pepper spray inside your pocket.

Nikolai said something in Russian, his laughter almost swallowing the words up before he was done.

“You ca-can just take the house,” you managed to stammer. Your stomach hurt - legs shook, as you tried to keep yourself up, the three men all staring at you. 

It was as if there was something beneath your ribcage, a fear that vigorously grew so much you were sure you would combust; all of the scents, the hunger, the lust, the anger, it was all too much - the clouds dark above you, a soft rumble heard from the sky above. As if the weather was trying to warn you too.

You ran your finger along the tip of the spray, making sure you knew which way the spray would come from, so you wouldn't hit yourself.

Run. Run. Run.

”Cute of you to think that the house is the only thing we want now,” Price mused, before raising a hand towards your front door, the woman having disappeared, “Why don’t we go inside, pet? Nikolai and I have some questions.”

Every chance of talking your way out of this seemed abandoned.

”Alex,” Nikolai’s voice wasn’t loud but the loyal beta in front of you took a step towards you, raising his hand to grab onto you.

Your grip on the metal almost slipped, as you ripped the weapon from your pocket; while you had used the stun gun twice by now, you hadn’t tried the pepper spray before, but you solely relied on your instincts and from the scenes you had seen in movies.

Alex screamed as you sprayed him directly in the face, barely any distance between the two of you - but you didn’t stay around to gloat, a second barely passed and then you were off.

Run. Run. Run.

They might have been here for some weeks and gotten to know the basic outlay of Millhaven; but you had lived here your entire life, learned all the routes through people's gardens when you were a kid and stole apples, or when you had sneaked home as a teenager after staying out too late. You knew Millhaven like the back of your hand, even in the darkness - there was a thunderous rumble from the clouds above you, as you darted in between Mrs. Barnaby’s and the Carter pack’s houses and disappeared into the dark alleyway.

Run.

[nikid-aze]

KISSES OVERDOSE — yang jungwon.

SYNOPSIS. There was a thing about addiction, all your life you heard your parents telling you to stay away from drugs, alcohol or any kind of substance that could altern your way of thinking or just your mind for a short or longer time. But what would be teenage years and college life without all of those ? Boring, so you slowly became one of those, becoming yourself an addict of any kind of substance that could make you forget your shitty life. What you didn’t think about was that boy, that you somehow meet at the hospital after an overdose, and how obsessed and addicted you would get to him. He was slowly becoming your own drug in some kind of way, and you were slowly becoming his own.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ yang jungwon x reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 lee heeseung, park sunghoon, winter (aespa), chaewon (lesserafim), probably others idols added there..!

genre﹙💬﹚⸝⸝⸝ serie, romance, strangers to lovers, fanfiction, written chapter (!!), multiple chapters

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ mention of drinking, drug use, mental health and mental illness, could contain smut, parental abuse, psychological manipulation and abuse, please be aware of the warning before reading my work, it could be hard to read at some moments.

taglist ‎⸝⸝⸝ @firstclassjaylee comment to be added to the tag list 💋 (hope you would enjoy this serie !)

words count ‎⸝⸝⸝ 1174 (it’s a small introduction 💋)

rains’ note ‎⸝⸝⸝ it’s only a teaser/ pilot and I’m so proud of posting it ? okay okay, we can talk about a new start for me and my account here, and im so happy about it. the chapter would probably be way longer than this little introduction, but I hope you would enjoy every part of this serie ! donc forget that you can give me any feedback about my writing or this serie in general so I could know what I can work on or what I can change.. anyway, I hope you enjoy reading the star of the serie ! 💋

MASTERLIST | NEXT >>

If there were three things your parents had taught you from a young age, they were these three:

1. To always respect God and never disrespect Him.

2. To always stay away from boys your own age, especially when they reached eighteen.

3. To never touch any substance, alcohol or drugs, that could alter your way of thinking.

And since then, you had always made sure to follow their rules to the letter. Focusing mainly on your psychology studies, you had no free time to even think about this kind of nonsense anyway.

Not that the idea of ​​having a boyfriend had never crossed your mind, but simply because you believed that your studies were the most important thing for having a decent future that would please you.

So, for twenty years now, you'd been following your parents' advice, making sure to stay as far away as possible from all kinds of substances, which, however, young people your age seemed to enjoy and consume at unimaginable hours simply to "clear their minds and get high."

This was actually what you'd heard being said in the corridors of your university during your lunch break, and despite your disturbing curiosity, a corner of your mind made you realize that it was just nonsense when you remembered your parents' words.

Alcohol didn't have a particularly negative effect on others, according to your observations; it simply made them unaware of their actions or words for an indefinite period of time. When your best friend came back from a party in the middle of the night to your apartment, you were no longer as surprised to see her in such a spectacular state of euphoria while she could hardly stand on her own two feet and almost fell on the floor in the face simply because she wasn't looking where she was going.

Alcohol played a very important role in the lives of young people and students. No matter where you set foot, you'd notice someone your age with a bottle in their hand, at any time of day. It had actually become part of your daily life to notice the euphoric state of some of your classmates in the university corridors while you were just looking for a quiet place to study.

All that alcohol, as far as the eye could see, gave you a headache.

Then, when it wasn't alcohol that was present, you noticed that some students found themselves with cigarettes between their lips.

Nothing too bad at first glance, but the smell of the smoke leaving their lips quickly made you realize that it might not have been just a cigarette. then when it wasn't the smell — which made you think of one of those nightclubs that everyone was talking about — you had confirmation by noticing the dilation of the pupils of some of your classmates.

Not to mention the many times when both girls and boys had come to you, asking if you were using them simply to avoid being without stimulants during the day.

Stimulant.

That's what most of your university students saw themselves as addicted to, stimulants that only made them unable to think clearly and strangely resembled snails.

"God, if you love me — and I think you do —please never let me end up like the students at my university."

you found yourself whispering one evening when you were supposed to be studying. The temptation and the invitation being far too strong, you were forced to pray — in a way for the best — that you wouldn't be drawn into a completely unknown world that strangely frightened you.

"My hands will never touch the things that make others so unconscious and thoughtless. And no drop of alcohol will end up in my body."

You had closed your eyes for a moment — as if to try to feel the slightest connection to God in the moment — then, after what seemed like a long moment of silence and calm, you had stopped everything, knowing that one way or another you would notice the effects of this prayer, or the others, in the days that followed.

Even if the idea of ​​drinking alcohol had most certainly crossed your mind during the day, the very evening of that difficult day you found yourself praying — or simply confiding your thoughts and emotions — to God, since according to your parents and acquaintances, he listened to and accepted the mistakes of his believers.

Simply, despite all the desire and compassion you put into this kind of situation, you had this horrible feeling that even with your many efforts, alcohol and drugs would end up in your hands without you realizing it.

This feeling practically made you sick, how could someone like you — who was a follower of the most respectful things and the most thoughtful choices — feel like that just from a sensation?

After all, it was just a sensation deep inside you, it meant nothing, especially with the many prayers and confessions you made practically every week, if not every night.

It happened to you a few times, when you were back at your parents' house for the holidays, that your nights were reduced to endless nightmares or your parents finding you in your room, sitting on the windowsill with a bottle of alcohol, whatever it was, and a joint between your fingers as if these were things you did every night. The rest was nothing but a series of disapproval from your parents — who kept telling you that you had no faith in being loved by God if you were to do things that reflected such deadly sins.

And each time, you woke up with a start, Lyon heart pounding against your chest as you struggled to catch your breath. You knew so much that these things were unacceptable that you became obsessed with them, in the sense that you told yourself every day that you would never touch them and that you would surely prefer to lose a part of your body — like a hand or a foot — rather than end up with alcohol in your blood, and drugs that made you as reactive as a sloth.

Unfortunately, life wasn't as simple as you'd imagined as a child, and despite everything you tried to do to remain the adorable girl your parents could be proud of, nothing was certain about the events that could happen overnight.

Your many prayers, your thoughtful choices, or even the hours of revision you inflicted on yourself every day were in no way what could protect you from the dangers of university life or simply promise you that your life wouldn't take a dramatic turn overnight because of a decision you made on a whim.

Because despite the many years of telling yourself that you were meant to stay healthy and problem-free, life always had that moment, that decision, when strangely, all the choices already made would fade away — as if you were starting over — and no one could save you from possibly drowning in an unknown and dangerous world.

[mina-org]

This has been edited because @thepeachesclub gave me some more information! They let me know it was province and not a town along with the name of it which, gévaudan, which is pretty vital! Thank you<33

fic idea maybe let me know any ideas you have? !!! okay okay so do you guys know abt that wolf in a french province that killed loads of ppl? the beast of gévaudan. well I don't know about omegas and au much but something about that screams 141/Johnny. like I think a lot of the people who were killed were young girls? buttttt after the beast was there I think the crown sent like army members who acted as like a invading force to the town. but so in this au they arent kill lil kids in the town but like hunters and shitty ppl because they were hungry:( anywayyyy s/o is scared shitless bc like she doesnt want to be alone, theyre horrified, theyre husband had been a victim and now they were on their own and had a herd, going out with the sheep is hard and scary but luckily a Shepard near by is happy to go with you! safety in numbers and you've not seen him before so you ask if hes new and he stays out of the town with his family and is secretive and reader doesnt want to loss her new work bestie and so doesnt push back. anyway the attacks dont go away and so the army is about coming into homes and being massive dickheads, s/o feels scared and complains to John the Shepard who hasn't any had issues because he stays away from the village and the soldiers dont go out there and so invites s/o to stay, the herds will be safer in bigger numbers and its already strange s/o lives alone anyway so really its lucky nothing has happened to you, yet. so a day turns into a couple and soon enough their moving your stuff into their home and you barely visit the village! its all hunky dorey! until you go to village, and see the baker who asks where youve been and than you tell them! they tell the soldiers because their there to keep the village people safe and their cabin hasn't been added to any records, so the some army guys come marching down just to make sure everything is okay. but 141!!!!? they see the arm and start going insane, they've stalked you for months and your perfect! it only took murdering your husband and every man who tried anything with you! they can't lose you so they acciendtly lock you in the attic and you miss the blood shed! expect that Johnny's a little too messy and too excited, he rushes to you, the blood staining his skin acts as an offer like a cat leaving a headless mouse and suddenly you dont feel all that safe anymore

[lucifertheanalyzer]

the amount of racism that runs rampant in the fandom makes me wish i didn't like hazbin/helluva at times. like, the amount of antiblackness and the disrespect towards latinos (speaking as one who is mixed indigenous) is crazy. i grew up in louisiana and there were so many things viv could have done to rewrite alastor. if she wanted to make him creole, she could have! but making him do vodou as an "oooo look at how evil alastor is!" makes me ick.

his deer aspect is cool, but again as someone who grew up in the swamps, he would have been so cool as a gator or even a zonkey if we want to keep the "herbivore is actually a carnivore" aspect.

I do not blame you one bit. The fandom's racism is out of control, and it is very disturbing. I am on the verge not wanting to interact with Non-Black fans.

I will forever give Viv shit for making Vodou apart of Al's character. It pisses me off that she did not listen to Haitians during the pilot era about her depicting Vodou, she should have removed that part of his character. She is a white woman who has no right to depict Vodou in a Christan based Hell and she made her morality questionable character that is a mass murder a practitioner, cannot forget that he is a cannibal as well. 🙃

Vodou has been demonized for being "Black/Evil magic" for centuries and Viv is just adding to the stereotype. I am all for diverse cast in media, if she wanted Al to be a Creole due to him being from Louisiana, cool but she changed his race to get away from depicting Vodou.

She did not even change his demon form to look more like a man of color (If I had a dime for every time I see fans and non-fans not knowing Al is mixed race, I would be a multi-millionaire) due to being too attached to his already ugly fucking design, now his design is 1000 times worse, he is whitewashed.

I did not know Al was a deer until his horns grew in Stayed Gone. He looks nothing like a deer, I remember when S1 dropped, a lot of new fans thought he was a fox due to his ears.

The idea of Al being a gator sounds amazing. He was a murder when alive, murders hide in plain sight like gators hide in swamp waters before attacking their prey. The whole 'He is a deer because he was mistaken for one' thing is dumb like really dumb.

The Zonkey idea sounds cool too, but I wonder if depicting a Mixed-race man as a hybrid animal would be viewed as problematic or not.

[girlactionfigure]

Meet the Maxwell House Haggadah, a Seder favourite.

For more than a millennium, the haggadah has been the centerpiece of the Jewish holiday of Passover. The book sets out the ceremony for the Seder meal, when families tell the biblical Exodus story of God delivering the ancient Israelites from slavery in Egypt.

Joseph Jacobs from the Lower East Side started an advertising firm in 1919. Jacobs was determined to introduce the value of marketing to the growing population of Jewish Americans. That’s when he met Joel Owsley Cheek of the Cheek-Neal Coffee Company, parent company to Maxwell House coffee. Jacobs met with Cheek to discuss placement of ads for Maxwell House in Jewish publications.

Consulting a rabbi from the Lower East Side, who declared that technically coffee beans were like berries and therefore kosher for Passover, Jacobs secured a rabbinical stamp of approval for Maxwell coffee in 1923.

Years later during the Great Depression, Maxwell House turned to Jacobs for marketing help as the company was losing money to discounted coffee competitors. The idea was to give away a free Haggadah with every can of coffee.

It worked. According to a market report commissioned by the Joseph Jacobs Organization to guide its marketing efforts, Maxwell House became the coffee of choice for Jewish households around New York City.

The Maxwell House Haggadah remained largely the same through the 1940s and ‘50s, and soon achieved the status of a Passover classic. Yet the 1965 version marked a definitive break with the past. As 1960s culture introduced more minimalist, graphic art, raging against the classicism of the past, the haggadah’s images changed to reflect the times. And though the written text remained largely the same, the addition of English transliterations of blessings and prayers hinted at Americanizing Jews’ loss of Hebrew reading skills.

For the next 30 years, very little changed in the haggadah. But in 2000, it finally received a visual makeover, as seen in an advertisement that year. Stark graphics, popular since the mid-‘60s, were replaced with nostalgic photos depicting an intergenerational family at a Seder. This tender imagery invoked tradition at a time when many Americans had grown more distant from their Jewish communities, prompting concern from Jewish leaders.

In 2009, the haggadah achieved worldwide fame when President Barack Obama used it to conduct his first White House Seder. Shortly after, it underwent a complete overhaul for the 21st century. Maxwell House’s version was now less illustrated and included more written text, like the haggadahs used by more religious Jews. By eliminating antiquated words like “thee” and “thine,” the new version felt more relevant for a younger and more secular Jewish population.

In the following years, various versions have been distributed, in 2019 Maxwell House released the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel version entitled “Midge’s Haggadah”.

Still, the Maxwell House Haggadah is the most widely used Haggadah in the world with an estimated 50 million copies in print.

Source: Humans of Judaism, Wikipedia,

Kerri Steinberg, Department Chair of Liberal Arts and Sciences, Otis College of Art and Design, The Conversation.

Rabbi Yisroel Bernath

[mac-lilly]

JATP fic ideas that live rent-free in my head

A compilation post to keep track of all the jatp stories that I will never write ...

Stuff I've actually written

Juke:

Juke Kitchen

Alone Together

Strumming the Soul

Beautiful

Heartbeat

Willex:

Hotdog and Cold dog

Cross my heart and hope to die (again)

A night to remember:

Just one more night (Luke)

Tomorrow (Reggie)

Ghostwriter:

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Snippet 3

Hamster!Luke

Doodle

Canon-Compliant (kinda)

The inevitabilities of (after)life

(Boys coming back to life but without memories - Juke)

After their performance at The Orpheum, the guys suddenly start seeing a magical light, and they figure it's time to cross over. Before they leave, however, Julie and Luke accidentally seal a magical pact with unfathomable consequences. (And they kiss.) And then the boys are gone.

However, a year later, just after coming to terms with the guys' departure, Julie's world is turned upside-down (again) when a very alive Luke suddenly reenters her life. And it's not just him -- Alex and Reggie are back too. But to Julie's horror and agony, all three have lost their memories. (And not just them. With the exception of Bobby, nobody remembers them.)

And so, Julie has to make a decision: Fight to unseal their memories or let them live their new-found lives without her?

It's an easy choice, really. Plus, she has to make her resurrected Phantoms stay alive. Because there's a series of uncanny and nearly fatal accidents that always involve her boys and, weirdly, Nick.

(There are 1.75 chapters of this on my PC.)

Ghost license

(inspired by the movie "Hui Buh" - no focus on romance)

The boys get tasked to obtain a ghost license for the Molina house. Otherwise, they have to leave the place and become wayward ghosts (and have to return to Caleb.) And thus, the Phantoms are forced to attend a school for ghosts -- exams included.

Random character stuff:

Julie's doodling

Luke's room

AUs

Songwriting Journal of Fate

(A Kimi no Na Wa AU - Juke)

Part I

Part II

Part III

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Show me how to be whole again

An arranged marriage/enemies-to-reluctant-allies-to-friends-to-lovers Juke AU

Plot

BAM! I'm actually writing this one.

AO3 Link

Image Board

Sweet Home Alabama AU

Yet another enemies-to-friends-to-almost-lovers-to-enemies-to-friends&lovers Juke AU.

Teaser

First & Last Scene

"Life with Derek"-inspired AU

Teaser/Prologue

Rivers of London AU

Julie, a witch in training, and Luke, a ghost

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Snippet 3

Phantom Thieves

(A Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne AU (without the religious stuff) - Juke)

Julie makes a deal with Caleb: She helps him collect/steal possessed artifacts, and in exchange, he'll grant her a chance to talk to her mom again.

At first, it goes pretty well. She steals the objects and hands them over to Caleb. But soon, she gets a rival. Another thief shows up, who is way too cheeky and attractive, and he starts snatching those items Julie is supposed to steal from under her nose. Julie is not amused by his attitude, and Caleb tells her that he probably wants to use these magical items for evil.

At the same time, Julie makes acquaintance with three guys who just transferred to her school, and she may or may not develop a crush on one of them. (And Julie can't help but see certain similarities between Luke and her new-found thievish rival ... but surely that's just a coincidence, right?)

Mind the Gap

(A Neverwhere AU - Willex & (minor) Juke)

Alex lives a pretty normal life. Sure, after he came out to his parents, he's become an outcast. But he's willing to put up with this shit anyway. (What are the alternatives?)

Then he encounters Willie, an extremely weird but also handsome guy who tells him that he is being hunted. Confused, Alex helps him hide. The next day, Willie is gone, and suddenly his life seems to vanish. His parents, his peers -- everyone seems to forget that he exists.

Determined to set things right, Alex sets out to find Willie, hoping that he (or the person he's running away from) has the power to give him his life back. He enters the World Below -- the place where all the people who've all fallen through the cracks stand. However, as he keeps gathering a group of unlikely and way too cheerful acquaintances who quickly become his friends (and more), he starts questioning his desire to return to the normal world.

[ittybittybumblebee]

unspoken dispute to settle

[cuz-reasons]

Summary: After getting badly injured, Ingo isn't sure where he keeps waking up. But there is always someone he doesn't recognize, but knows he loves with him. Emmet is equal parts happy and stressed over Ingo's return home.

I'm finally getting this up before I forget again

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[lostpetcity]

-

[quarterlifekitty]

Lately I’ve been getting a kick outta the idea of Ghost having a girlfriend that Johnny is painfully interested in (tale as old as time). But she a lil neurodivergent and selectively mute (edit; I originally labeled reader as non-verbal, but I was made aware mutism more accurately describes this!). She’s comfortable enough with Simon that she’ll talk to him when they’re alone, but she won’t say a word to Soap (she doesn’t talk to the other guys either, but you know that Johnny chooses to take it so damned personally).

The worst part is that Soap will say shit to her, and she’ll give Simon her little signal so he can bend down and she can talk to him so fucking quietly. It’s like they speak a different language and Simon is the interpreter. And it’s so infuriating to him because shit like this will happen.

“Ain’t you looking a right picture, bonnie— that dress new? Fits ye like a damned glove, sweetheart.”

You tug on Simon’s sleeve so he can lean down. Soap is rocking back and forth on his heels, anticipating an answer. He’s down so bad, he doesn’t even care that he’ll hear it from Simon’s lips and not yours. You whisper for what feels like minutes on end.

“She says thanks.”

“God damn, L.T.— you know she fuckin’ ‘ad to ‘ave said more than that!” He whines indignantly, Simon smirking. Simon knows all about his little crush, and chooses to let the lad suffer. His time will come when you’re ready.

This goes on and on for months on end— and you know what? It’s hard for Johnny to jerk off to the image of you wedged between him and Ghost when he has no idea what you sound like, moaning or otherwise. You can probably see him half hard in his jeans every time he heads home from a movie night with you and Simon.

“G’night, L.T. Night, hen.” Soap’s almost all the way down the walkway when he hears something almost inaudible over the ambient sounds of the night.

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

Now that’s gonna keep his fantasies fed for weeks.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Fixed point (mathematics) // The History of Perspective // "Point of Disappearance", Dennis Held // How the Hughes hockey family stays grounded // Fixed Point Photography-- // "Portrait of A.", Tung-Hui Hu // Mic'd Up | Hughes NHL 25 cover shoot // "Burnt Norton", T.S. Eliot // "Circuitry", Janine Joseph // Bruce Bennett // Nick Wass // from obedience [maybe one day, during a point in time], kari edwards // Bill Rapai // "Errand Upon Which We Came", Stephanie Strickland // Benchmark (surveying)

art kid luke hughes

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

That one week every month...

Simon had faced warzones, interrogations, and impossible missions—but nothing had prepared him for this.

You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, glaring at the TV like it had personally offended you. A heating pad rested on your stomach, and an untouched cup of tea sat on the table. The occasional wince crossed your face, and Simon felt utterly useless.

"You alright?" he asked, standing awkwardly by the armrest.

You let out a dramatic sigh. "No."

He blinked. "Right."

He had no idea what to do. He had seen you tired, upset, even angry, but this? This was new. And honestly? It was terrifying.

"Did you eat?" he asked, shifting his weight.

"Not hungry," you muttered, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

Simon hesitated, then turned on his heel and disappeared. A few minutes later, he returned, dropping something soft onto your lap. You peeked out - one of his hoodies, smelling like him, freshly warm from the dryer.

"Wear it," he mumbled, avoiding your gaze. "Might help."

You blinked up at him, surprised. "Simon…"

"And this," he added, placing a bar of chocolate on the table. "Don’t argue."

A small smile tugged at your lips despite the discomfort. He sat beside you, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly unsure of himself. After a long pause, he pulled you against his chest, adjusting until you were resting comfortably against him.

"Better?" he asked, voice quieter now.

You sighed, relaxing into his warmth. "Yeah."

His fingers absentmindedly traced over your arm, his other hand gently rubbing circles on your lower back. You could tell he was still unsure, still navigating this whole relationship thing - but he was trying.

And honestly? That meant everything.

[monstersholygrail]

You spread yourself as wide as you can, not knowing how broad your Ghost bf is, but wanting to give him enough room as he fucks his cock into your weeping walls.

The days breeze blows in through the open window, providing a bit of relief from the firey heat that runs along your skin as your Ghost bf forces more and more orgasms out of your battered cunt.

You whine, writhing against the bed as his massive dick stretches you out. Your pussy flutters around seemingly nothing, yet that wet squelch echos throughout the room with every rough thrust of your bfs hips.

Hands squeeze tightly at the sheets below you, needing to grab onto something, needing something to ground you as your bf takes you to new dimensions of pleasure. A ragged moan leaves you, hips now jolting with each plunge of his cock.

“Fuck! I-I wanna touch you. Want you so bad— God!” You exclaim, throat raw from your cries of ecstasy. The dull feeling of your hips meeting causes your head to spin.

Reaching out blindly behind you, your hand snags onto the sheer white curtain of your window. Through the fucked out fog within your mind, you slowly form an idea.

Before Ghost bf can react, you throw the curtain outward and as soon as it catches onto an unseen form, you wrap your arms around it and pull him closer. A low moan leaving you as his cock slips deeper inside of you.

A sharp gasp moves past your lips, eyes narrowing, swearing you can also almost see his features through the material. In his shock, Ghost bf stutters in his pace. Feeling your arms around him would’ve been enough to make him blush if he still could.

Spurned on by this new discovery, Ghost bf starts pounding into you, the pleasure of his length rutting its way along your walls now heightened by your touch on his skin and slight ability to see him. But you need more as you feel yourself about to reach your peak.

Pulling him further down, you kiss him without hesitation, your lips fitting together like two puzzle pieces. The thin curtain only adding to the tingles moving down your spine.

Ghost bf’s moan moves through the breeze as always, yet this time you can feel it too. Ghost bf immediately cums again as yours lips brush deeply against each other. You whimper as his spectral-cum shoots inside of you, body twitching before you follow right after, exploding all over his cock and your bed.

You both rock steadily against each other, drawing out your orgasms as you make out passionately. Not wanting to separate for a moment now that you’ve finally gotten to taste each other in this way.

But your bfs ghost cock can’t plug you up. Can’t keep you stuffed full of his cum so that not even a drop drips from your delectable pussy. But with these new findings your bf can’t pass up the opportunity to try. To finally force his cum to stay deep inside you.

More whimpers leave you as your bf pulls away and slips the curtain off his head. They’re quickly interrupted by a choking gasp as you feel him stuff as much of the curtain inside you as the curtain rod will allow. You both look down at your pussy with bated breath. When nothing leaks out, you smile and fall back down on the bed.

“That was… a good idea,” you say through breathless laughter. Not being able to help but grind into the texture of the curtain and stimulating yourself all over again.

Ghost bfs eyes darken as he looks down at you, wondering just what else that curtain can give you both access to. His cock twitches as it starts to come back to life.