#not that this has happened as of yet. just putting it out there

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

doctor doctor - s.r.

pairing: casual sex!Spencer Reid x fem!reader

summary: on the way to the hospital you call the only doctor you know (and the only person you want to see) - though you may have misunderstood what kind of doctor he is, exactly

word count: nearly 4k

masterlist // this is a continuation of 'the agreement'

series playlist if you're into that :)

contains: florist!reader, mugging, violence, allusions to potential SA attempt (no actual attempt made), allusions to smut, two cuties who are down bad for each other but refuse to admit it to themselves, they really don't know that much about each other's lives, mentions of no contact with family, reader refuses to put their own safety first and Spencer isn't living for it

Spencer has never known you to contact him during the day. 

In fact, he’s never known you to initiate contact, only ever reply to his texts. These messages consist only of logistics. Your place or mine? What time? That kind of thing.  

So at first, his expression is that of confusion as he reads your text.

BABY: What hospital do you work at ???

Spencer thought back over your first ever conversation. It was the only time you had ever discussed his work. He supposed he had only referred to it in an abstract sort of way. It wasn’t a leap that you would have assumed that Doctor Spencer Reid was in the medical field when he spoke of being unable to shake the memories of those he couldn’t save.

Beyond that first encounter, the point of your arrangement had been that it was an outlet for him to forget his work, so Spencer had never brought it up again and you had never pushed him to share. 

Spencer’s chest tightened. He considered the probability of you asking him this question innocuously. Given past instances of casual text conversation (zero), he knew the chances were not good. 

“Spencer, are you with us?” Hotch asked.

Not at all, he nearly said.

They were at the tail end of a case briefing, everyone’s eyes trained on Spencer as he stared at his phone. It didn’t take a profiler to know that a technophobe staring that intently at their phone spelled trouble.

“I need to step out for a sec.”

Spencer didn’t wait for a reply, already halfway out of his seat. He wouldn’t have even heard it if one came, his thoughts altogether consumed by you.

You picked up on the second ring. Spencer’s stomach dropped. He could hear the ambulance sirens loud and clear through the phone.

“Spencer?”

You sound slightly out of it. He ran through the potential reasons within a nanosecond. Pain, shock, blood loss, painkillers, a blow to the head.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you slurred slightly, unaware of the panic in his tone. “It’s just a scratch. They’re just being cautious.” If that were true, there would be no sirens for you to raise your voice over, but Spencer doesn’t say as much. “His knife was just very sharp. But I’m going to be okay, they told me so.”

The room tilted. His knife. 

“You’re going to be okay,” Spencer knew he was reassuring himself more than he was you, but he hoped you didn’t notice. “What hospital are they taking you to?”

“Um,” you thought for a long second, “I don’t know.

“What hospital?” you asked someone other than Spencer. You repeated what the paramedic told you, though Spencer had already heard.

“Okay, I’m going to be there really soon, okay baby?”

“That would be nice,” you hummed.

The team emerged from the conference room as he hung up the phone.

“Wheels up in thirty, Reid. You with us?” Hotch asked.

“I need to take some personal time. I’m not sure how long yet. All of today at least.”

Spencer’s feet itched to be on the move as he stood and explained himself to his boss. Every second spent not on the way to you was a waste. If he did not consider these people his family, he’s not sure he would have had the restraint to stand here and have this conversation.

“Of course,” Hotch nodded, understanding and unquestioning. “Let us know if you need anything.”

Spencer turned to leave, yelling a quick, I will, over his shoulder.

“Reid!” Garcia called as he left.

Spencer didn’t stop walking, heard her heels clacking and figured she would catch up.

“Is your mom okay?”

“She’s fine,” he didn’t look up as he grabbed his bag from his desk. A thought occurred to him. “I might need some information from you later,” he said, the words his knife echoing in his mind with every move he made.

“I’ll await your phone call,” she told him, earnest. 

Spencer didn’t even think to thank her, already running out of the office. 

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It had been a rough morning for you. 

You were in the worst point between Spencer visits. The glow of the orgasms had faded, the memories of the sex becoming further from the front of your mind. More difficult to hold onto with clarity. It would be several days yet until you could expect a visit from him again, thus the thrill of anticipation seemed miles away. You were in the middle period, left with one thing and one thing only: frustration. 

You found yourself becoming crabby during this period. If you weren’t enjoying the sex so much, you would find it embarrassing. Your mood had become dependent on the frequency of visits from a guy you were seeing casually for sex. (You refused to acknowledge the fact that the influence was perhaps not exclusively the sex but the company you were enjoying and at this moment, missing).

You tried not to let your bad mood dominate your day, but it certainly infiltrated your enthusiasm for work, or rather created a lack thereof. You dragged your heels through your morning routine, spending more time than you should daydreaming about what (or who) you would rather be doing and found yourself running to make the train on time. 

Normally, you would never cut through that alley to get to the train station, but you did so out of sheer necessity to catch your train. 

It was broad daylight, you told yourself. It would be fine.

It was decidedly not fine. 

You heard them before you saw them. Her cries. His harsh and low, “Hurry up, bitch.”

His back was to you, so much larger than her that you couldn’t even see her behind him. 

You didn’t think, just reacted.

You don’t even remember running up, just the moment you yanked his shoulder away from her, towards you. He spun with the force of it. You hadn’t checked to see if he was wielding a weapon, barely even saw the flash of the knife as it sliced up your arm in the scuffle. 

He was young. Maybe nineteen. 

Luckily for you, your bold move was enough to spook him. He didn’t hesitate for a second before he took off running. 

Your damsel in distress was around your age, shaking and still with her open bag in hand.

“Are you okay?” you asked, not yet seeing the blood dripping down your own arm.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look in your direction. Just stared after her retreating assailant. Despite the mounting distance between herself and danger, her shaking took on a more ferocious edge as shock set in. The girl’s back hit the wall behind her, in a second she was on the ground and folding in on herself.

You bent down and reached for her hand. That was when you saw the blood. It had slid down your arm and covered your hand already. Your stomach lurched at the volume. You steeled yourself and looked beyond it, focused on the girl’s face.

“You’re okay. Don’t worry, lovely, it’s over now,” you gripped her hand as best you could as you plied her with assurances.

The throb of your wound registered like a kick in the gut as your adrenaline began to crash. Your butt hit the cement with a thud. Your vision started to swim but you tried not to think about it but rather the girl in front of you. She needed you to hold tight just a little bit longer. That much you could do.

“What’s your name, lovely?”

Her teeth clacked together but she managed to tell you, “Grace.”

“Grace, I need you to take a deep breath.” You led with an exaggerated inhale, and to your relief she followed your example. 

She settled some after three deep breaths together. Shakily, you used your good arm to pull your phone out of your pocket. You passed it to Grace and asked her to dial 911, unable to make out the numbers as your vision blurred. As you listened to her on the phone you couldn’t help but think again of the doctor who had been on your mind before your morning went to hell. Your doctor.

Despite everything, you huffed a laugh. You might see Spencer sooner than you thought.

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Of course you hadn’t anticipated him dropping everything to come see you.

Just like you hadn’t anticipated the somewhat drunk, woozy feeling blood loss would create within you. Without it, you were sure you wouldn’t have texted him at all. 

You didn’t have anyone else to call, so you hoped you would just happen to be headed to the hospital where he worked. 

The paramedics on scene seemed very serious about your injury. You thought they would maybe just stitch you up on scene. They wouldn’t even let you walk to the ambulance, demanding you lie down (and remain) on a gurney. It overwhelmed you, and in a moment of weakness you reached out to Spencer.

But you were secretly glad you had done it. 

When you saw his face as he burst into your room (rather, your curtained off bed), you smiled despite the needle going into your arm. 

He was frazzled, hair an unkempt mess and slightly out of breath. There was relief in his eyes as they locked onto yours. Then he clocked the doctor stitching up your arm. In two quick strides he was there, eyeing both the injury and the doctor’s handiwork. 

Spencer could see the way the blade had swung out, slicing you first shallowly in your lower arm and catching some air above your elbow before slicing deeper into the flesh of your upper arm, creating a long broken line up your arm. 

“Did the laceration on the upper arm nick any arteries?” he asked the doctor, all business. 

“Luckily not, but your girl here was sitting in the cement bleeding for a while before the paramedics got there,” your doctor replied smoothly, unbothered by Reid’s probing. “Once I finish stitching her she’ll receive a transfusion. She’s a bit loopy from the blood loss right now.”

On cue, you pout at Spencer. “You’re not wearing your scrubs.”

He peeks at your displeased expression and he is overwhelmed by a desire to plant a hundred kisses all over your face. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding to see you talking and okay (well, half a breath, he’ll release the other half when you get your blood transfusion and stop looking so ashen).

Distracted by another thought, he only half looks at you as he says, “I’m not that kind of doctor, angel.

“What was the ambulance response time?” He asked the doctor. 

“I would have to ask to find out the exact time but I don’t believe it was longer than normal. I heard from the nurses that she scared a mugger off from some poor girl. Didn’t call an ambulance until she could get the girl calmed down some.”

The doctor turned to you. 

“Just remember next time, Supergirl, that paramedics can settle down people in shock too. Leave something for the rest of us to do,” the doctor winked at you. 

“I left the arm for you to stitch, what more do you want,” you joked, but your eyes were half shut. 

They opened quickly as a thought registered. “What kind of doctor are you then? A psychiatrist?”

The doctor’s brows shoot up, obviously wondering as to the nature of your relationship with Spencer if you don’t even know what kind of doctor he is. 

Spencer is surprised by the itchy feeling it gives him inside. It had given him pleasure to be perceived as your person, the one you count on. He didn’t like this new perception the doctor would have of your relationship. That you didn’t really know each other. Even if it was a lot closer to the truth. 

Spencer’s pleased to be spared having this conversation in front of the doctor as he finishes up the last stitch and says, “I’ll be back with a nurse to set up the transfusion in a minute.” 

Spencer thanked the doctor and pulled up a seat beside you, no longer needing to supervise anyone’s medical handiwork. He sat on your good side so he could hold your hand without causing any discomfort. 

“How are you feeling, honey?”

“Confused.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “How does your arm feel?”

“It’s fine, Spence. They gave me the good stuff, I promise. Now tell me what kind of doctor you are because I’m feeling silly.”

It occurs to Spencer then that you may share a commonality. Neither of you enjoy being wrong. Surely that is the explanation for the crease between your brows and the downturn of your mouth, something he is so unused to seeing. 

“You’re not silly. You made a reasonable deduction based on the information you were provided.” 

“The wrong deduction.”

“Well, yes,” he concedes. 

“So?” You look at him expectantly.

“My doctorates are in mathematics, engineering and chemistry, but I work for the FBI in the behavioural analysis unit,” he explained.

You stared at him blankly. This new reality was perhaps too much for your brain to comprehend so soon after a traumatic event.

“I catch killers by creating profiles of who these criminals would likely be based on the behaviour of known offenders,” Spencer attempted to simplify. “Well, not just me. Me and my team.”

“Sure,” you snorted.

Spencer just looked at you. Waited a beat for you to process. 

Realisation dawned upon you. “Oh. You’re serious?”

“I’m not exactly well known for my jokes.”

You laughed. “That’s true.” 

You sat back in your bed and sized him up, considering him within this new context. Reshuffling the picture you had formed of his life outside of your dalliances. 

“Maybe it’s the drugs or the blood loss but I can actually kind of see it.”

It was Spencer’s turn to snort. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I might still ask to see your credentials later. I’m not sure I would know the difference if you handed me your driver’s licence at this point.”

“I don’t have my driver’s licence.”

You shuddered. This is who we’re entrusting the safety of the public with?

“Hey!”

Oops. You hadn’t realised you were talking aloud in your hazy state.

“I’ll take you for a driving lesson one day okay? If you can figure out a way to have so many doctorates you can figure out how to drive under my tutelage.” 

Your eyes started to droop shut as you spoke, and your voice took on a sort of dreamy quality as you pictured the two of you in a car park somewhere driving around in circles. The thought made you feel warm and cosy inside. 

“Come on, baby, stay awake just until they hook up the blood transfusion for me, please?”

You did as you were told with a pout. 

“You and I need to have a chat about your vigilante behaviour.”

“Ah, Mr FBI is here to tell me off. Sorry, Doctor FBI.” You attempted a wink at him, trying to keep the mood light, but all you managed in your exhausted state was a kind of exaggerated blink.

Spencer would remember the moment later and smile, but right now he was too focused on the issue at hand. 

“Baby, I’m serious. What were you thinking? Your life isn’t worth someone’s wallet.”

You grimaced. You wished he had just taken a hint and dropped it. “I didn’t think, okay?”

“That was obvious.” 

Spencer’s clipped tone caused his words to land across your face like a blow. He wanted to stuff them back into his mouth as soon as he said them. You withdrew your hand from his.

“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I just- I got so worried when you called me from the back of that ambulance. Scared me half to death. Now I’m scared half to death that this won’t be the only time you go looking for trouble.”

“I didn’t go looking for trouble, Spencer. I stumbled across them and I thought,” you sighed and looked away from him. “I thought he was going to take more from her than her wallet, and I just reacted, okay? I didn’t go looking for trouble. It found me.”

You sat in silence together for a moment. Spencer could feel some history behind your words and the heaviness in your eyes. He wanted to ask. Wanted to know. But he knew now wasn’t the time or the place.

“That makes sense. I’m sorry I didn’t think. Didn’t try harder to put myself in your shoes.”

“Didn’t you just tell me that was your whole job or something too?” You teased, trying to break the ice that had frosted over between you. 

“Kind of.”

Normally he would dive into a spiel about the exact ins and outs of the process of behavioural analysis but he is interrupted by a nurse. 

“Knock knock,” she chimes.

Spencer stands, allowing the nurse access to you. She works quickly, and with expert ease, unfazed by Spencer’s watchful eye. 

You go quiet as she works, the events (and injury) of the morning catching up with you. Spencer kicks himself internally for not letting you rest. He should have waited to bring up his concerns. Asked about it in a more delicate manner. The panic had a tight hold on him though, and he is unsure there is any version of events in which he would have been able to keep his mouth shut.

The doctor stops by to check in and make sure you’re good to go, and then Spencer can finally breathe a (full) sigh of relief as your blood transfusion is underway. 

“Can I nap now?” Your voice is small, your eyes barely open.

“Of course,” the doctor says, but you’re looking at Spencer. He’s never seen you look so young and vulnerable before. 

Spencer nods. “Let’s get you comfortable, baby.”

He fusses over you, fluffing your pillow and tucking you into your blanket. Once satisfied, he sits back down and reclaims your hand in his. 

“Is there anyone else you want me to call for you?”

Embarrassed, you shake your head no. Sliced open on the street and the only person in the world you have to call is the guy you’re having casual sex with. 

“No family?”

Spencer kicked himself for asking such a sensitive question. Your agreement not to discuss personal issues was in direct opposition to his innate curiosity about you. He supposes today was a special incident though, and for the duration they might be able to exist slightly outside the boundaries of the agreement. 

You had held strong through the whole ordeal, showing little signs of being rattled by the violent altercation of which you had been a part of. But you gave Spencer a watery smile at his two word question.

“You’re not the only one with things to forget, Spencer.”

He brushes the tear off your face as soon as it falls. “Then let me help you forget.”

“I think they frown upon you doing those kinds of things in a hospital room. Particularly one where the walls are just curtains,” you joked.

Spencer refused to acknowledge your lewd comment. “Tell me what book you want me to read to you. One of those romances that you love so much. But one of the classics, otherwise I might not know it.”

You might not know what he does for work, but you know him well enough not to doubt his ability to recite novels to you. 

You drift off to the steady timbre of Spencer’s voice, reciting Austen. He doesn’t start at the beginning, jumping rather to your favourite part so you can fall asleep to something that he knows will make you happy. Spencer doesn’t realise of course, that his presence alone will bring you enough joy to fall asleep peacefully. 

When he is sure that you are well and truly asleep, Spencer steps out to make a phone call. Garcia, despite working an active case, picks up on the first ring. 

“Everything okay, my love?”

“Everything’s fine, thankfully. Listen, I need a favour.”

“I can’t find that info for you until the case is over,” Penelope interjects.

“I know, that’s fine, this is something else.”

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You awake to find two bunches of flowers beside your bed, a card in each one. Curious, your eyes are barely open before you’re sitting up and reaching for the cards. The first identifies the sender as your damsel in distress, Grace, the second identifies the sender as ‘Spencer and the BAU’. 

“Really they’re mainly from the BAU’s tech analyst, Penelope,” Spencer tells you as he re-enters your arm, catching you in the act of reading the card. “She doesn’t really understand the concept of personal boundaries.” 

He hands you the water he had evidently gone to fetch you before reassuming his post by your bed.

You gulp down the water thirstily and ask, “What did you get me if those aren’t really from you then?”

You’re teasing, not actually expectant of anything, but he nods toward your arm. 

You look down to see your injured arm is no longer propped up by a pillow, but by the softest, sweetest teddy bear you’ve ever seen. He’s a gorgeous shade of chestnut brown, with chocolate eyes and a red bow tie. You lift your arm to get a better look and see he has a bandage on his arm to match your own. You melt. 

“I know you’re a florist so the idea of picking flowers that would meet your standards overwhelmed me and I thought maybe they wouldn’t be as special to you somehow? And you’ve been so brave through this whole thing I figured you deserve something special. Maybe you think it’s childish but I thought it would also be useful for keeping your arm elevated so if you don’t like it-”

“Spencer,” you interrupted. 

“Yeah?”

“I love it,” you grin. 

“You do?”

“I do. Thank you so much.” He finally cracks a smile at this, the first you had seen on his face all day. The room becomes all the brighter for it. You are overwhelmed with gratitude for him at that moment. You can’t imagine how sad and lonely this whole ordeal would have felt without him (even the mere thought of him, the anticipation of seeing him) to get you through. 

“And thank you so much for being here, I know this isn’t what you agreed to. Being someone’s emergency contact isn’t exactly casual,�� you laughed, trying to make light of your own guilt.

“I don’t mind. I’m just glad that you’re okay. That’s the most important thing.” Spencer took your hand then. 

You hummed, but you were not entirely convinced.

“Besides, just because we’re getting to know each other a little better doesn’t mean we can’t keep things casual. You know what kind of doctor I am, and I know you’re Batman, doesn’t mean that I’m your boyfriend.”

You laughed a proper laugh then. Spencer has never been one for comedy, but he sees its appeal for the first time as he basks in the glow of being the one to evoke that sweet sound. 

“Okay, so maybe we… rethink the terms of our agreement?” You pray the hope in your tone (and your eyes) don’t betray you.

“I think,” Spencer paused, gave your hand a squeeze, “we do what feels right as we go along.”

You agreed, knowing full well you were throwing yourself headlong into getting your heart broken, because while Spencer wanted casual, the only thing that felt right to you was pulling him closer.

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authors note: low-key put my whole chest into this ngl

I have so many ideas for these two sweeties I started like four fics about them at once which is why this one took so long. Let me know what you want to see from these two!

[littleapocalypsekitten]

I'm asexual and put-off by most sex-stuff, so I am perhaps one of those rare-breed of fanfiction writers who FOCUS on genfic. That said, that is not to say that some pretty hairy stuff hasn't come up in my fanfiction from time to time. For example, I have a Fire Emblem Awakening fic from way back in which a character gets sexually-harassed in a transphobic way (he is not canonically trans and in my story is not trans), but he has the whole "Dude Looks Like a Lady" trope that is a very common trend in the FE games, and yeah, that happens in my story as something organic and his harasser uses a slur. (Almost gets an axe to the face for it, too). I also decided to insert into his backstory an incidence of child-molestation (him as victim). Abuse and abandonment is canon to him, but that incident is not. My Ao3 warnings on the fic are for Rape / Non-Con and "Underage Sex" as per the standard tags that come with Ao3, but without context and I worry that someone will see those and think it's a kink-fic when it is decidedly not. I do not have any specific warnings like (Trigger Waning: Slur!) because I think that's just dumbshittery. I'm not going to give away my entire fic in the tags! If people read the bloody thing, they will see, in-context that I am not *promoting* SA or slurs - instead, I am writing (as much as I can for a fictional world where magic and dragons exist) realistic situations that are tragic. Content is NOT promotion! And strangely enough, on the same fic, I have the Ao3 standard warning tag of "Graphic Depictions of Violence" (the video game is a war-game, albiet one where in-game, violence is mostly referenced and if a character or enemy is killed (or wounded if you're doing Casual Mode as I do - sorry FE veterans, I like to have *fun* when playing video games), they just fade/disappear (rather than bleed out or explode in Ludicrous Gibs like when I'm wielding a missile launcher on Super Mutants in Fallout). I up the violence-description in the fic, as with almost all my fics for anything, and yet, I don't feel much of a need to put TRIGGER! WARNINGS! on that stuff, because, well, I think that most of us agree that War is Bad and Murder is Wrong and the majority of readers are not combat-veterans who are going to be triggered by such things, so it's not like you have to do a lot of warnings or apologia for that. Long rant short: As an old fart fanfic writer (and writer in general) I do think that the kids are oversensitive these days and worry that Critical Thinking Skills when consuming literature are a dying art. Personally, I will not apologize for anything. I'll put the warnings up that I think need to be up, but I'm not going to hold your widdle hand when you say, click on one of my tragedies or dramas or God forbid, one of my HORROR stories and walk you through it. Absorbing context is your friend. I think it should be obvious that I do not approve of SA, or slurs or MURDER. I just write about them sometimes.

i feel like people forget that sometimes characters in fic are written like that because it's a reflection of real life.

people have sex without setting boundaries. people have unprotected sex without talking about their sexual histories or producing recent sti tests. people play with kink without discussing it ahead of time or establishing a safeword. they have anal without 'enough' prep or lube—they may even prefer it like that.

and none of this is really a fantasy. it's all pretty normal. you can feel that it's inappropriately normalised, and you'd probably be right! but it is normalised: one study found that 58% of female undergraduate students on the campus studied had been choked during sex. 20% of those students said that they'd never been asked if it was ok; another 30% said they'd only sometimes been asked if they consented. fully half! (non-paywalled journal article on choking during sex here, including these numbers.) despite a rise in stis of all sorts, condom use is declining. (pdf link to the full text of this study about declining condom use in the us; aidsmap article about an australian study with similar results.)

even when people do talk about things—sex or anything else—they communicate imperfectly. 'yeah, but don't go too far' is consenting and setting a boundary, and also relying that the person you're talking to has the same metric for 'too far' that you do. for some people, 'the trash needs to go out' is a neutral, factual observation; for others, it's a request that the person they're speaking to take out the trash.

even when people understand each other perfectly, people react unpredictably to things sometimes! we behave irrationally! people laugh uncontrollably at funerals, or get angry at the straw that broke their back rather than the enormous load they were already carrying. they get scared and lash out at people trying to help them. when hurt, most people do not instinctively reach for therapy-approved grounding exercises and 'i feel' statements.

pretty much any bad choice that characters could conceivably make is a choice that people make in real life, on purpose, all the time. people do things that can have catastrophic, life-changing effects because it felt like a good idea at the time, or they're leaning into the vibe, or they just didn't think about it all that much, or an infinite number of other reasons.

fiction isn't intended as a guide on the best, safest, and most responsible ways to live your life, and fanfic isn't any different. it's not a narrative flaw to let characters do things that are messy or harmful or downright stupid—it's a reflection of what people are actually like, and not something that authors should feel they have to apologise for.

[33forthew1n]

⋆.𐙚˚ bent out of shape ⋆.𐙚˚

🏎️❣️ charles leclerc x pilatesyoutuber!reader 🏎️❣️

trope: fake dating

SMAU- faceclaim: alexandra st mleux

synopsis: due to recent rumors swirling around about charles's relationship ending due to infidelity, ferrari's pr team is scrambling to fix his image. enter: yn, a popular pilates youtuber in need of more subscribers. whose to say they aren't a match made in (pr) heaven?

WARNINGS: swearing

a/n: hope you enjoy 🥹 interact however you please!

˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

everyone in the paddock knew how it went with charles and his relationships. he dates a girl for a few years, gives her a bullshit excuse that ends the relationship, then runs to their best friend. it was a tried and true method, really.

so, why was this time so different? well, his ex-girlfriend alexandra amassing over two million followers meant she had become popular both in the paddock and online. with popularity came fans and with fans came the inevitable hive mind. said hive mind was now commenting on every one of his instagram posts with hate.

now, did charles really care about the hate? no, not really.

on the other hand, ferrari's pr team made it quite clear they did care.

after all, the prancing horse had an image to maintain and it wasn't one of two timing and scandal.

˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

"we saved your ass the last two times this happened, charles. what the hell do we do now?", exclaimed mia, charles' pr manager.

"is it even that big a deal? so what, they took pictures of me and her friend kissing? like you said, it's happened before. we can just wait a few weeks and everyone will have forgotten about it by then", replied charles in exasperation, clearly not seeing the big deal the team did.

"you know how popular she has become, charles. she has serious brand pull and we can't lose out on any sponsorship money at all", mia said, rolling her eyes at his idiocy.

now the team were at a stand still. what do they do regarding charles' image and the team's brand pull?

"e-excuse me?", a pr intern interjected, raising her hand as if she was still in grade school.

"uh...yes?", mia asked.

"how about we bury this scandal by faking a relationship with someone popular and well liked. not an a-lister, but someone that the press would be more interested in than a nobody", said the mystery pr intern.

"you know what...that's not half bad."

"wouldn't be the first time you've started dating an hour after breaking up with your previous girlfriend", said mia, dragging charles as if it was a pastime. "geez, thanks. i don't know how i feel about dating someone random just for likes. what do i tell my family?? my friends? i don't think this is a great idea at all", charles said, obviously hesitant to participate in the intern's master plan.

"it's either this or we put you on a strict no dating ban. you pick", mia threatened.

"ooook, looks like we're being extreme. fine. fake dating it is".

˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

throughout the next few days, charles' pr team looked for a possible "girlfriend".

yet, they struggled to find someone perfectly suited to the job.

that was until charles jokingly suggested a pilates influencer with a steady 5 million subscribers on YouTube (in hindsight he should have known better than to even jokingly suggest anything to help). a 24-year-old spanish woman who goes by "ynlates" on all social media.

ynlates

Liked by 865,537 users

ynlates hey angels 💕 long time no workout so...new video's up on on my channel @ynlates! 30 mins of full-body pilates for all my baddies 🧘‍♀️

view comments ⬇️

madfit LOVEEE what a good sweat 😅💦

^❤️ by author

fitwithjojo bbg what a bod ❣️ good one!

^❤️ by author

randomuser092 the only workouts i'll do :)

˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

and so the ferrari pr team went through all her social media profiles; from looking for a sketchy background to seeing if she had been in any public controversies. after a 2 day long search, yn came up clean.

now it was time for them to contact her.

To: ynlates@business.com

Cc/Bcc, From: mia@ferrari.pr.com

Subject: PR Opportunity

Greetings, Yn Ln. This is Mia, Charles Leclerc's head of PR. If you are unaware, Charles Leclerc is a Scuderia Ferrari Formula One driver and we would be pleased to see the two of you collaborate together on a project. With this project we aim to boost your following and improve Charles' image. We would like to see you in person on 26/1 at Maranello, Italy. If you are interested we will send you plane tickets, book your hotel, and pay all expenses. Sinceretly

Mia (Head of Scuderia Ferrari PR)

and so Ferrari waited. and waited. six days after mia had sent that email, she got a response.

yn was more than happy to. if mia was just 1% more pessimistic, she'd question yn's sanity. but, whatever. she had to get charles out of these murky waters and fast.

˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

yn had never been much of a sports fan. her best friend, hannah, on the other hand never stopped yapping about formula one. lando norris this, DRS that. yap yap yap.

so when she got an email from a mia individual she clicked on it and to her suprise it was f1 related. ok, maybe not "here are some race tickets from a mysterious sugar daddy" but it was still about the motorsport. just seemed like a scam, but she still decided to respond by accepting the offer to go to italy out of sheer curiousity.

when the "mia" lady sent her the tickets and all the information she started panicking. "what the hell is this "pr opportunity" and how is it worth a whole ass italy trip?" yet, before she could truly freak the hell out, she called hannah. "han. i think i'm going to meet CHARLES LERCLERC in a week??", she stressed into her phone.

"h- WHAT THE HELL?? CHARLES FRICKING LECLERC??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?", hannah yelled into her ear.

there goes her hearing.

"his pr lady sent me an offer for a collaboration of sorts, i don't know!!! i mean, what can a pilates youtuber have to collaborate with a formula one driver for?"

˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

turns out, a lot.

a whole fake relationship lot.

after a tour of ferrari headquartes in maranello, mia got right down to it in a conference room.

"liking italy so far?", mia asked yn innocently.

"oh, yes. thank you so much by the way! it's all wonderful, i'm not quite sure how i can pay you all back", yn responded, wide-eyed and confused at how this even happened.

"by dating our driver for a few months and helping us clean up his image? haha, just an idea!", mia said, throwing the idea out there as if she was asking for a simple favor.

dating their driver....as in charles?

she hadn't even met the guy.

she must have said that aloud as mia's next words were "we can arrange a meeting tomorrow if you accept our offer".

and so the next day, yn arrived at a little ristorante by the seaside. she wore a casual letterman jacket and jeans to meet her new potential boyfriend. "God, this is so strange", she thought to herself.

"ciao. are you yn?", she heard a male voice ask her as he sat in the chair opposite to hers.

"ciao, yes. yn ln. you're charles, i assume?"

"oui. uh- so my team told you about their offer? what do you think of it?", charles asked her.

"it's certainly an offer. may i ask though, what does a formula one driver gain from being seen dating some youtuber?", yn asked him in return.

"i have sponsors willing to pull out because of this stupid scandal. my team can't afford it and it is not fair of me to not do anything i can to keep the sponsors happy. not after all they have done for me and my career", charles said with all the genuinety a man could have.

now she sees why he's her best friend's favorite driver.

"look, i'm willing to help you out. but, in return i just ask that you protect me from hate. i've seen how badly sportsmen's girlfriends are treated and its unfair to them. can you do that for me?"

"yes, of course. would you like to order?", charles offered.

and so they ate dinner in lighthearted chatter under the moonlight.

then, as charles offered to drive her to her hotel they both heard the unmistakable sound of cameras clicking pictures. "fuck", said charles.

"let's go before they catch your face", charles whispered to her.

deuxmoi

Liked by pierregasly, cl16hq, and 3,016 others

deuxmoi New WAG? Charles Leclerc spotted in Maranello eating dinner with a smiley woman. Looks like someone's getting over their ex quite quickly. Who do you guys think @charles_leclerc 's new girl is? Another friend of an ex's? view comments ⬇️

user1644 already? damn he's faster than the SF25...

charlesfan16 what an invasion of privacy 😬 yikes...

f1fangirl092 "liked by pierregasly" WHAT DO YOU KNOW THAT WE DONT FRENCHIE 😞❌🥖

leclercfanboy09 bet this one won't last the season

randomuser0286 why does she look like @ynlates??

randomynfan09 omg...ur not wrong 😅

𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

yn had barely met the guy and already she was the talk of social media. every new story she posted, she got dozens of replies about charles and if they were dating.

at least, she got tons of new eyes on her page.

on charles' side of the equation, he was panicking. he wasn't over his ex and he worried if this was too fast for him to be moving on (though his subconciousness kept reminding him she was his FAKE girlfriend).

yet, charles knew this must have been much scarier for her than for him. after all, he was used to the crazy attention from fans and yn was certainly not. and since a few eagle-eyed fans had put two and two together, he knew she must have been getting DMs about their "relationship" already.

Charles Leclerc

charles_leclerc

Bonjour, Yn.

How have you been since the paparazzi pictures?

Hey, Charles. It's been scary but not horrible. Just something to get used to I guess, haha.

I've been meaning to ask you something.

Uh-oh. Already breaking up with me?

Lol, no. 😅

Would you like to come with me the Monaco Grand Prix?

Monaco? As in the crazy rich place?

Monaco as in my home country. It's a big deal for me. It would mean a lot if you came to see me race.

Oh! I see. I could try to move some things around. Could I stay with you?

Yes! I'll send you the details when we get closer to the date.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

leading up to the race weekend, yn and charles got much closer. they texted, called, and sent each other little gifts. yn sent charles some music sheets she found at a vintage shop while on a brand trip once while charles sent yn a new pilates set from a sponsor brand.

next thing they knew it was the weekend of the monaco grand prix.

yn arrived in monaco shortly before charles' media day duties began. he picked her up at the nice airport and drove her to his apartment in monte carlo.

"oh wow, charles. this is stunning. thanks for letting me stay with you this weekend. i know your probably overwhelmed and have to be laser focused, but you still took the time out of your week to tend to me", she smiled through her words.

"it's nothing, really. thanks for coming and supporting me. you'll have lots of fun at your first grand prix," charles promised her.

and that she did. come friday, yn made her paddock debut.

kymillman

Liked by ynlates, charles_leclerc, and 7,892 others

kymillman YN LN, CHARLES LECLERC'S NEW LADY?

Today, at the Monaco Grand Prix (evidently also Charles' home race) we have the pleasure of seeing Charles Leclerc's rumored new girlfriend stun the paddock. Yn Ln is a 24-year-old Spanish fitness influencer who Charles was recently photographed with. Would anyone like a video on her?

view comments ⬇️

annapetra902 very pretty 💕😍

f1fan02834 why is everything about their partner's these days?? so annoying and tabloidy

asmleuxfan0283 LOL she's trying to be alex 😬

overall, she was well recieved by charles' friends and coworkers. yet, how his family reacted to her was what truly interested her. though she wasn't his real girlfriend, something deep inside her heart wanted to be loved by his family.

at the ferrari hospitality, she saw a man around her own age that looked strikingly like a blonder charles. she heard charles call him over to where they were sitting, "thur, c'mere".

"oui. hello. and you are?"

"hi. yn...uh charles'...."

"my girlfriend. thur, meet yn ln. she's a fitness youtuber and we've been together for a few months", charles said, smiling all throughout his reveal.

the shock on arthur's face was evident. "had he not mentioned me at all to his family?", was the only thing yn was able to think at that moment.

then an older lady walked up to charles and snuck in a quick hug, "cha, ça va? (how's it going) qui est ton ami? (who is your friend?)"

"yn, this is my maman (mom). maman, this is my girlfriend- yn ln", charles said introducing the two most important women in his life. well, hypothetically the most important women of his life.

"oh! dear, sorry tor assuming. how are you, dear? cha didn't mention a girlfriend to us, but i'm glad to meet you", his mother said, fumbling over her words a bit.

charles blushed, clearly embarassed. in that moment his engineer called him over and he left yn with his family. he sheepishly smiled and mouthed a "sorry" to her as he was forced to go prepare for the race that starts in just a few hours.

yn herself felt a bit awkward too but decided there was no better time than the present to spread her social butterfly wings. and so during the lead up to the race she got to know charles' mother and younger brother.

she learned his mom, pascale, was a hairdresser in monaco and that she was the kindest soul she could ever meet.

she learned that his younger brother, arthur, was also in motorsport and that he was very much like charles but much snarkier and bolder.

she very quickly got on with the both of them and they told her it would be their pleasure for her to stay with them to watch the race together.

she texted charles, "good luck. you can win this one!! 😌❤️" and put her phone away promptly to go back to their conversation.

honestly, yn didn't know what to expect from the race. she hadn't watched a full race ever, but she does know enough to not make a complete fool of herself. her best friend had quizzed her on basic facts and little tidbits she should know before she left to monaco so she hoped that would come in handy.

yet, she hadn't expected to see her "boyfriend" win his home race. arthur and pascale were overjoyed and she could see charles' pure bliss when he was up at the top step of the podium.

after media duties, she congratuled charles and gave him a hug. maybe not the type of hug that established couples give, but it was a hug that gave her butterflies and charles another reason to smile.

"dinner, mon chéri (my darling)? i can get us in anywhere tonight. you say it, we go there", he said with the biggest grin on his face.

yn hadn't really expected a dinner invitation, instead thinking he would go party with his mates. "really? you wouldn't prefer to be with your friends at a club tonight?"

"pfft. as if. i have the prettiest woman in my monaco on my arm during the best day of my life. why would i spend it without her?", charles said, looking into her eyes like they were oceans he could drown in. the moment was intimate, that much they both knew. their relationship went from one of favors to friendship to...whatever this was. they weren't official but it was obvious to the both of them that they cared for each other so much more than they ever meant to.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

dinner was marvelous.

if yn wasn't already falling for charles, she certainly was now.

he pulled her chair out for her, ordered her favorite wine (how did he even remember that??), complimented her more times than she could count, but most of all he listened. he would ask her questions about herself that would leave her talking and talking and talking, yet he never once complained or made her feel like she was too much.

it was as if they were actually dating.

as they walked out of the restaurant, arms so close she could feel his jacket on her skin, she said to him, "you know, charles. this is like my ideal date. nice restaurant, good food, and even better company. you really know how to make a girl feel special."

"it's not hard to make an already special person feel their worth", he replied with sincere honesty in his eyes.

"if you keep saying things like that i'll think what we have is actually real", she mumbled, more to herself than to him.

"and what if i wanted us to be real?"

"i wouldn't say no", she said, now looking into his eyes.

"then, yn ln, would you like to be my real, not at all publicity stunt, girlfriend?", charles asked her with the biggest smile on his face.

"don't have to ask me twice. yes, cha, a million times yes", yn replied.

then charles leaned closer and held her face with both hands. he smiled down at her and then kissed her with the most beautiful amount of emotion and passion that yn had ever experienced.

though they may not have been actually dating the past few months, there was no doubt in either of their hearts of where they stood together. they were in love. through all of his bad race days, media speculation, her burnout, and their joint support for the other; they had grown to care for each other in a way neither of them had ever expected.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

the next day, yn woke up in charles' bed unexpectedly alone. she had been staying with him for the past two weeks, ever since she had arrived to see the grand prix.

then, when she rubbed her eyes to get the sleep out of them charles appeared.

"mon ange, good morning", charles smiled to her.

"good morning, cha. you're quite happy for morning time", she giggled.

"of course. i'm with you, why wouldn't i be?"

"charmer. what are we doing today?"

"well, before we do anything, could you check your phone for me?"

"you're acting suspicious, cha", she said, jokingly side-eyeing him.

charles_leclerc

Liked by ynlates, maxverstappen1, and 2.2 million others

charles_leclerc With my girl ❤️ @ynlates

view comments ⬇️

ynlates my love 🥹💕

^❤️ by author

charles leclerc mon ange 😘

scuderiaferrari loveliest couple in the paddock ❤️

user1644 they've only been in the paddock once??

scuderiaferrari ok and? point still stands 🙄

pascaleclerc 🤩🤩 un si charmant couple

^❤️ by author

"oh, cha. you didn't have to", yn said happily.

"non, i did. now that we are really together, i feel like screaming your name over the rooftops", charles insisted.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

two months later, it was the summer break and yn and charles had decided to spend it in monaco.

very recently, yn had started spending time with lewis and roscoe at the garage and loved every second of her time with the pup.

every day she would say to charles, "cha, you know you looove roscoe. wouldn't you like one of those?"

just last week he had said, "mon ange, i think YOU want a puppy. but, you know i'm not home often and taking care of it would end up just being your responsibility which i don't want to put that on you."

"charlie, i would be okay with caring for it! i need a friend for when your not around", she begged with puppy dog eyes of her own. they left the conversation there but little did she know that charles' masterplan had just begun.

he got in contact with the local rescue center and visited them on an off day. he hadn't really felt a connection to any of them until he saw a miniature long haired daschund with the name "leo" on the cage.

after signing the papers, he took little leo home to surprise yn.

"baby, close your eyes. you remember how you kept asking about a dog and i said no?"

"yes. sheesh, way to rub salt in a fresh wound, cha", she answered.

"non. open your eyes", he said with a smile on his face.

upon opening her eyes, she instantly fell in love with the pup in front of her.

"charles, oh my God. he's so cute! what's his name?"

"the rescue named him leo but we can change it if you want", he said, happy with her happiness.

"oh, leo leclerc. it's perfect. thank you, thank you, thank you charles!"

"you're welcome mon ange. he's worth the smile on your face", charles grinned.

ynlates's new story posted

ynlates

lando HES SO CUTE

charles_leclerc proud dog mom 🤩

monacorescue thank you for adopting this doggo!! ❤️🐾

lilyzneimer omgggg hes the cutest 🥹🥹🥹

𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

the season had been...eventful to say the least. charles and yn got together but also ferrari finally got their shit together. when the drivers got back from summer break, the grid quickly realized that ferrari's latest upgrades worked like a wonder and turned their dumpster into a rocket. and as if just he was just waiting for the moment to arrive, charles seized that opportunity and began to build a decent gap in the championship.

now that it was abu dhabi weekend, charles was 15 points ahead of oscar who was valiantly fighting to get ahead.

charles qualified first that weekend and oscar was just .006 seconds behind in second.

he knew he had to give it his all to win to this race and take home the championship.

yn was at the race, too. he wanted to show her that all her support wasn't for nothing. all the nights away from each other and the late days he spent training were worth it.

and that he did. oscar and lando in third had decided that fighting between themselves was more fun than getting the win so he went ahead and built a gap that he couldn't lose.

and once brian told him there was just one lap left, tears built up in his eyes. memories of countless laps in go karts as a kid, sleepless nights where he wanted to just fall asleep instead of go on the sim, and the heartbreak of missing that top step all came to mind.

most of all, yn came to mind. all the support she gave him and the love she showed him was what got him through all the rough times in the past year.

yet, now his moment to shine had come.

brian's voice came up in the radio, "CHARLES, SEI CAMPEONE DEL MUNDO. FERRARI IN CIMA!"

"YESSSS. FERRARI IN CIMA. GRAZIE A TUTTI", charles yelled into his radio in utter bliss.

in the garage, yn was in tears. she had heard charles go on and on about what it would mean to him and his family if he would win a championship. but, to come home with both the constructors and drivers' championship was a dream he hadn't let himself imagine that year.

in parc fermé, charles ran up to yn and she placed a kiss on his helmet. "i knew you could do it, my love. world champion!!!!"

"i couldn't do it without you, mon ange. é tutto grazie a ti", he said with tears as big as his smile in his eyes.

ynlates

Liked by f1, charles_leclerc, and 300,893 others

ynlates 🥹🥹❤️ MY LOVE DID IT. Number One in the world! In red! World class act @charles_leclerc

view comments ⬇️

charles_leclerc ❤️ could not have done it without you

^❤️ by author

scuderia ferrari our champion has never looked so good ❤️🏎️

f1 2025 WDC in red! 🏎️🏎️🏎️

lewishamilton Mighty year, mate. Congrats 🙏🏾

it may have all begun with a pr stunt, but it ended with a relationship that had as much love as it did good publicity.

[silverheartlugia2000]

"Inside the box is a medallion. It holds my entire life."

This caught me. Why would a medallion hold his 'life'?

-

He can't remember where it came from. Tim never had one. He's never seen anything even remotely close to it. It's just something he's always had. He doesn't know why he never showed it to anyone, or why he felt like keeping it hidden. It was just some instinct that he couldn't ignore. Like a forgotten dream.

He doesn't even know why he mentioned it or realized he phrased it the way they did.

But right now, he's scared, he's babbling, everyone except Alfred has been treating him weird ever since the "get Bruce back from time" rescue.

He's the only one who didn't go, or ever get a cape in the first place, because he's always been the sick kid. Heart stutters, low blood pressure, normal body temperature bordering hypothermic, they've tested him over and over for the meta gene or anything similar. The best they figure after meeting some of the dark members is he's death touched by some cursed artifact mom and dad brought home when they were toddlers.

The door all but slams open again. Voices of caution are pouring in, but Alfred is there, and he is LIVID. Not at Danny though. In fact Alfred sits something in his lap as he unties Danny and tears well in his eyes again. It's his box. It's THE box. The one with the medallion, the medallion that always comforted him on nights alone, his family gone on some big mission, only him and Barbara acting as their extra eyes.

It was there whenever he felt out of place. It was there after the worst nightmares. It just gave off this aura whenever he held it. of safety, and calm, and everything is as it should be.

His hands are free and Alfred is hugging him while he grips it to his chest. Everyone else is crowding around tense and cautious ready to jump.

Alfred gazes at them in disappointment. "I believe your trip through time has "reset" some things.. but I assure you Master Danny is being upmost genuine."

Alfred gazes at him regret and sorrow in his eyes. "I am sorry my dear boy. I did find this a few years back by accedent, but it holds a lot more than I think you are aware of. I believe it wasn't ready to reveal it to you yet but if that time is not now, then I don't know when that will be."

"All of you. Come here and grab hold of Master Danny. Once he puts the medallion on I believe everything will be made clear."

The masks squint in suspicion, but no one can defy Alfred. The old man holds Danny's hand comfortingly, the others slowly draw near and touch him in some form. A hand on his shoulder, one on his back, a finger in his belt loop. One gripping his shirt. Danny sucks in a breath and slowly opens the box. The medallion glints at him invitingly. A gold cog with the letters CW ingraved in the middle, threaded on a ribbon of purple satin. Even after all these years it never tarnished or faded. Untouched by time. He rubs the ribbon between his fingers for a moment, lifting it up and slowly slipping it over his head.

The cave vanishes around them. Replaced by a fast forward, but also normally paced?? Memory of Danny's life. From being born to him and Tim getting left at home. Danny struggling to follow Tim on his birdwatching. Danny tinkering with gadgets while Tim is trying suits. Holidays, birthdays, missions, kidnappings. Everything up until the current point in time.

As the show goes forward Danny feels the grips on his clothes shaking. Hears mutterings of "I remember this.." "wait that didn't happen like that, I think..? Or did it?"

Conflicting memories plague his family but Danny himself feels like there's something more to it. Something watching an waiting for the tape to finish.

Finally they watch as Danny walks down to the cave. The confrontation with Bruce. The sedatives the cell and vanishing from the cave altogether with the medallion.

The scene fades away again leaving them somewhere new. A place filled with swinging pendulums and ticking clocks. Faces of clocks that show different points of time. Cowboys or Mongols or dinosaurs or even that Terry guy that Bruce had told them about from his own time travel adventures into the future.

Waiting patiently off to the side is a strange being dressed in purple. Blue skin red eyes a scar on their face and a whispy tail instead of legs.

Danny stared at them hard. The others tensing around him, some even shifting to pick him up and run. Everyone but Alfred, who only nods in greeting like they already met.

Danny suddenly gasps, tearing out of their grasp and running over to the stranger. Several weapons are drawn only to halt, Danny is crying, clinging to their cape as they hug. There's a ticking purr coming from the stranger. Strangely similar to the noise danny makes sometimes around Jason or Cass.

The clocks around the bats change behind Dannys back, moving to where only the bats can see. Showing Danny in another place. With people no one recognizes, monsters attacking his school, drifting in endless green. Danny entering a strange tunnel, electricity, heat and light. Him falling out looking different. Palate reversed. Fighting the monsters from before. Meeting various friendlies. Playing with a girl with a lunchbox around her neck and a boy dressed like a pirate. Napping in a field of snow before yeti children wake him and start up a snowball fight

He's injured while being held by the stranger. he's sobbing and begging and the glowing orb in his ripped open chest is cracked and fading.

"I remember now.. Not everything, I know there's some things I never want to know again.. but I know enough.. Thank you.. thank you for giving me a new life.. it's nice to see you again, Clockpa.."

I was thinking of those prompts where Danny is placed (most of the time by Clockwork) into the Batfam. Danny believes he’s been there the whole time and it’s after Bruce comes back from being trapped in time so they chalk it up to time shenanigans. Also, Danny is now Tim’s twin.

Warnings: some language

Danny skips down the stairs leisurely, headphones in to some rock song Damian would hate.

The Cave is damp and cold, as usual. The music blares out the sound of his sneakers tapping as he walks. He waves to B’s back as he continues on to the work bench. The project he had started the day before was still there.

One of the grapple hooks was lagging so he was fixing it up and added a few more safety measures on the device. His brothers were using this, he wanted it as safe as he can make it.

Behind him he hears a voice over the music, interrupting his work after only about half an hour. He turns and sees Bruce looking at him with a raised brow.

Danny pulls out an earbud.

“Huh?”

“I thought you were going to visit your friends?”

Danny thinks back to the last conversation he had with his dad. It had nothing to do with his friends actually, it was about his stupid English test and how he was going to call Jason if he could help tutor him since he was so hopeless.

“No, I’ll see them on Monday.”

“Monday?”

Danny pauses halfway to putting the earbud back in his ear.

“Yea? At school?”

“School?”

Bruce stands to step closer to him but still at a distance.

Danny rolls his eyes and chuckles.

“Are you just going to keep repeating what I say?”

His dad looks him over critically. Danny pauses his music and takes out the other earbud.

“Did you change your hair?”

Danny reaches up reflexively to pat down his bangs. If anything he probably needed a haircut soon.

“Um, no? Are you okay? When’s the last time you slept?”

He tosses his headphones on the workbench but keeps his phone in his hand in case he needs to call someone.

“I’ve recovered,” Bruce dismisses. Like his year long trip in the time stream could be easily forgotten after a few months.

“Sure,” Danny agrees anyway when they both know he doesn’t agree.

“Tim,” Bruce sighs.

Danny immediately presses the button on his ring three times to alert the others. The computer beeps and the man turns to look at the screen. Danny grabs the closest weapon — a screwdriver — and holds it behind him.

Only Alfred, Damian, and Duke were at the manor. Hopefully backup would arrive soon.

“What were you doing, Dad?”

Not-Bruce freezes and then relaxes. It was only a second but Danny noticed. Any of the Bats would have, they’re trained for it.

“Just going over reports,” Not-Bruce replies with a smile. A smile.

His grip on the tool tightens.

“Which reports?” He tests.

What was he doing? There’s no telling the kind of information this imposter got a hold of.

“The Bennet case.”

Danny moves. Casually, he takes a step to the left, where the more heavy duty weapons were stored. The man matches him threateningly. Danny stills.

“That was solved over a month ago.”

There was no reason to look at a case from a month ago that was solved and closed. Bruce would have no reason to look at something like that, especially since it was Tim who solved it and submitted the report.

“By you,” Not-Bruce says in an odd tone.

He was getting Tim and Danny mixed up. Nobody in the family gets them confused anymore. That only applies to outsiders.

Danny tenses, ready to bolt toward the weapons. Not-Bruce is fast to intercept, but Danny is smaller and more agile.

He dodges and goes to stab the man in the leg when there is a prick to his neck that makes him stumble. Not-Bruce uses that opportunity to disarm him and slam him into the floor. It’s jarring, but the sedative is already working its way through him.

He blinks twice before everything is forced to black.

He knows he’s tied to a chair before he’s even fully awake. There’s been numerous kidnappings and training exercises that had his hands and feet tied down to know exactly in what position he’s in and for how long depending on how numb his limbs are.

He’s still in the Cave because he can feel the damp chill and hear the faint chattering of the bats. There’s a barrier though. Along with how hard the chair was he knew exactly where he was.

The containment cell is tucked away in a separate cavern. It had thick microfiber see through walls and a single chair with restraints.

The imposter put him in their own cell.

Danny is positively livid with the disrespect.

“You’re awake.”

Danny jerks his head up.

Oh thank the Ancients, his twin is here.

“Tim,” he breathes. “Okay, I know this looks bad, but trust me. It’s Bruce. He couldn’t tell us apart. Something’s wrong. He’s not himself.”

Tim is silent for much too long, just staring at him. He’s in his uniform like he just got back from patrol when Danny knew he had been in California with his team.

“Just talk to me,” he demands. “What’s going on? Where’s B?”

Tim’s mask narrows.

“Why should I trust you?”

Danny blinks wide.

“Why should- okay, first of all, screw you. Second, now is so not the time to be petty with me. I already apologized for messing up your photo shoot. I even made up for it, so legally you can’t be mad at me anymore.”

“My photo shoot?”

Danny rolls his eyes. This seat was getting uncomfortable.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Stop being such a jerk. This is serious. I’m telling you something is off with B. Did you guys check him? I hit the emergency button.”

Danny can tell his twin raises a brow at him.

“You hit the emergency button?”

“I literally just said that. Do you listen at all?”

“I was just confirming,” Tim shrugs it off.

“Whatever. Tim, I think there’s someone else here. I got hit with a tranq. Someone is in on this. And can someone please get me out of these? I’m not the problem here.”

Unfortunately, Tim does not get him out of his bonds. He just stands there watching him until he turns on his heel and leaves the cavern where Danny can’t see.

“What the- Tim! What the hell, dude?!”

Danny wiggles in his seat, but the more thrashing the more it hurt. Instead he sits there for a while, just tracing the rock and counting, until someone comes back in.

It’s Dick. The one big brother who he can always count on to at least be there.

“Hey there,” he smiles through the glass.

“Dick, what is happening? Tim isn’t listening. Did you find Bruce? Why am I in here?”

“Yea, Bruce is here. He’s safe. I saw the tapes. It looked like you were going to attack him,” he reasons gently.

“Yea because something is wrong with him. Maybe he’s compromised or mind controlled or something. You need to investigate. He needs to be cleared,” Danny insists.

“Okay,” Dick nods. He squats down to get comfortable outside the barrier instead of going to find Bruce though. “What made you think he’s compromised?”

“He kept confusing me with Tim!” He emphasizes because just the thought is outrageous. “He hasn’t done that in years. Yea maybe a mix up when he’s not paying attention but he was looking right at me and called me Tim. And he kept asking me these weird questions, like he had no idea who I was. Something is wrong.”

Dick puts a hand over his lips in thought, clearly going over something in his head.

“I’ll be right back,” Dick rushes out the door in a flash.

Danny’s jaw drops in protest but no words come out. He yells in frustration instead.

No one was listening to him! They were all freaking him out.

Maybe this was training. Like on their sixteenth birthday. It’s similar to what happened then. So what is his next course of action?

“You make it sound like we should know you.”

Danny finds his little brother in the shadows, lurking by the entrance. He’s also dressed in his vigilante attire, just like Tim and Dick.

“Damian, could you stop being a little gremlin for two seconds?” He glares at the younger boy.

“Answer the question.”

“It wasn’t a question,” he snarks back.

Damian grinds his teeth and Danny smirks nastily. He wasn’t in the mood for sibling rivalry right now.

“Who are you?”

Danny’s expression twists.

“That isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

A cold dread settles in his chest. What if it wasn’t a training exercise?

“You know who I am. Stop playing games.”

“You say you’re not Tim. Claim you’ve known Father for years.”

“Damian.”

Bruce steps out followed closely by Dick and Tim.

There is a cold sweat on his brow now. Danny’s heart is beating loudly in his ears. He can feel the panic in his chest.

He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t go out to fight crime. He just trained with them because they all knew he needed to know those things to live in their life.

He wasn’t prepared for something like this.

“Guys, you’re really freaking me out.”

“Answer the question.”

No one defends him from Damian’s demand. They all look at him with caution, like he was the enemy. A stranger.

“You know me. What are you guys talking about?”

When no one answers he’s close to a damn panic attack.

“It’s me. Danny. You know? Tim’s twin. I’ve lived here since me and Tim moved in when we were twelve. Please tell me this is just training. You guys didn’t- didn’t forget me or something, right?”

Something in Dick’s expression looks unsure, but they all are withdrawn and completely in their roles. They weren’t acting like family.

“Prove it,” Tim commands.

Danny can’t believe his ears.

“AN-4729,” he recites the emergency code to prove authenticity they all know.

He can tell they recognize it, but wait for more.

“The sun shines in the east,” is the next security code to show safety.

Danny can tell it’s still not enough.

“There’s a file of me on the computer. Tim has pictures of us since childhood hidden under the floorboard under his dresser. My room is to the left of Tim’s. Inside the closet, in the ceiling, is a box. Inside the box is a medallion. It holds my entire life. You could also call Mr. Fox. I work with him often. I’m his favorite. I’m even on the payroll. Or you could just Google Daniel Drake-Wayne. I’m sure I’d pop up. Or call Gotham Academy since I’m enrolled there and everyone has seen Alfred pick me up and drop me off. I have a Christmas stocking with my name on it. My picture is literally all over the manor. I know the ins and outs of all your equipment and tech. The password to the Bat computer is 35G4s@2b-“

“Okay,” Dick gently interrupts. “I think that’s enough for now.”

Danny can feel how wet his eyes are. He stiffens his upper lip as Alfred would say so he doesn’t show how much of a disappointment he is to fail this test. Because this has to be a test. It has to be.

“Tim, you and I could always tell when we’re lying. We call ourselves our own personal lie detectors. So… am I lying?”

Tim studies him hard. His twin looks into his eyes for longer than it should take.

“I don’t know.”

And Danny breaks.

[moesthoughts]

right where you left me

pairing : ex lottie matthews x reader

warnings : angst, hurt and comfort, exes to lovers, cannibalism and blood mentions, wilderness lottie

summary : lottie’s mind hasn’t left you ever since you broke up before the crash, luckily she’s the one to find you when you get lost in the forest.

So many months passed by since the plane crashed in the middle of nowhere, leaving you and your whole team stranded in a forest. Nobody has come to rescue you, everyone has lost hope. You try to remember the person you were when you got on that plane, how happy you were to get out of the house for once and fucking play in nationals. You aren’t that girl anymore, how could you return to that state of mind? Blood coating your hands, eating other human beings for survival, you’re no longer innocent.

Now that the summer has come, and the harsh heat controls everybody’s mood even more than the winter has, you decide to take up the job of foraging. It’s an easy way to get away from everyone, and you get to use the knowledge you’ve learned thus far for good. Picking berries that won’t make people sick, mushrooms that won’t kill, you wonder if you stab into a tree hard enough you’ll get maple syrup too.

You’ve been walking for hours, and no markers you previously made are visible. You’re starting to worry; there’s no way you can be lost. No matter how much your feet are screaming at you to stop walking you keep going, and going, and going. Until you stop, giving up entirely. You sit on a log a bury your face into your hands, the reality of being lost settling in. You wonder how Javi survived all that time, especially in the winter. Could you do that? Tears sting the corner of your eyes, your shoulders starting to shake from the stress. The best thing you can do is stay put and hope for the best.

You’re finally thinking about getting off your ass when you hear footsteps from behind you, your head perks up and turns to see who it is. Though, you’re disappointed to see it’s your ex girlfriend, Lottie Matthews. You two broke up before nationals, you’ve never played so well at a soccer game. It wasn’t like she was a bad person, she was emotionally distant from you, and you couldn’t handle that. So you split up. Now here she is, somehow finding you at your worst.

“You shouldn’t be this far.”

Lottie speaks, making a chill run down your spine. You can’t help but nod in agreement, that much was obvious. You don’t know how you managed to lose your way around woods you’re so familiar with. She sat down next to you, resting her arms on her legs. She has that same soft look as always, minus the malice that shined in her eyes.

“Did they send you to find me?”

You mumble in response. You wipe your face, wet with tears. Lottie’s face expression softens, a small huff coming from her mouth. You want to believe that she was forced to come out to get you, that you’re a burden on her back, you want her to hate you. Her fingers caress your arm, your wants washing away at her touch. Lottie could never hate you, she’s constantly worrying about your health, your feelings, but she stays away for your sake.

“I came out here to find you, because I was worried.”

She was whispering, her tone being sickeningly sweet. Your eyes fall on her, welling with tears. You feel so many emotions, yet you don’t know how to express them. She walked all this way just to find you, and god knows how far you are from camp. You feel warm inside, knowing that Lottie still cares about you. You didn’t stop loving her, and you never had any harsh feelings towards her. It was unfortunate what happened, you know, you shouldn’t get that close with her again. However, with the look she’s giving you and her gentle touch on your skin, you can’t help but scoot closer to her.

“Lottie..”

You stare at her, taking in her beautiful face. She softly smiles, her hand traveling to your back. You two are closer than ever, you feel her warm breath on your face. Her lips are the prettiest pink, and her eyes are drawing you closer. You shouldn’t do this, get yourself intertwined with her again. It feels so right though, her touch, her smile, her tone. It brings you back to the person you used to be, the girl you want to have back so desperately.

“I don’t want to make you uncomf—“

Lottie shushes you, her free hand resting on your cheek. You press your lips together, trying to maintain eye contact with the girl in front of you. Memories flood your mind, the make out sessions in your bedroom, the phone calls, the pregame kisses, her touch lingering on your body every time she left. Unlike you, Lottie embraces the person she’s turned into. You wonder if you should ditch the nostalgia, and accept yourself.

“This is supposed to happen.”

Her words are all it takes to convince you to bridge the gap between you both. Your lips are on hers, the kiss is gentle, needy. Lottie’s hands are idle on your body, while yours travel hers, trying to cover every curve you’ve missed so much. She presses her body against yours, giving you the warmth you’ve needed so desperately. That same dizzy sensation you always felt before the crash hitting you hard. Maybe this was supposed to happen, fate pulled you both back together, or whatever “it” is was the cause. You know fully that’s what she believes.

You break off the kiss and stare at her plump lips, a breathy giggle escapes her. It’s like looking at an old painting, relishing a sight you’ve longed to see. Lottie pulls you up to your feet, her eyes lingering on you before grabbing your hand.

“Let’s head back.”

not a req BUT I ADORE THIS IDEA UGHHHH

req me!

masterlist

[hedwig221b]

Do you have any good siren stiles fics?

Here you go 🧜🏻‍♂️

Banshee of the Sea (Just Without All the Dead People) by our_sin

When Stiles tried to call Scott he didn't answer. So in order to save both himself and Derek from the Kanima he has to reveal something about himself he hasn't revealed to anyone. Derek doesn't take it as bad as he could have.

many beacons in the sea

Stiles has known all his life that he’s not like other kids. He’s special. “It’s alright, love,” his mom says, leaning over him at night when he can’t sleep because his legs hurt so bad. “Just let it hurt.” She kisses his forehead. He dreams of the sea. They go to the beach that weekend. * Stiles is a siren. He’s an anomaly, until he isn’t.

You would kill for this, just a little bit, you would by alice9

The Hales didn’t like him. He didn’t like them either. And for fifteen years he made it a point to have as little interaction with them as possible. It comes as a shock then, when Derek Hale turns up at his door one night, screaming baby in his arms, asking for help.

My Jolly Sailor Bold by GrimReaperlover11

Derek is the captain of a merchant ship. One day on his way home from a recent excursion, he and his crew run across a group of sirens. As Derek is about to cover his ears, he hears the sound of one of the siren songs and finds himself entranced by the voice. He moves to the side of the ship where he meets the most beautiful man he has ever seen.

The Sound of Waves by kitthekazoo

His voice felt real, like it mattered. Like it was worth something. “I’ll be busy feeling so brand-” He felt them as soon as they stepped into the apartment, their presence radiating in his power. He felt them in his sway, and he gasped at the tug as they were tied to him. or Stiles is a siren, and has been hiding it since he was a kid. He gets found out when he performs in the shower with the door open. It somehow results in kisses and cuddles.

Seafoam and Sirens by egrettacaerulea, MeowMeowBilly

Stiles is a siren who has never successfully lured a human, Derek is a sailor who's never been successfully lured by a siren; in fact, he seems impervious to them. What happens when the two meet?

In The Pale Moonlight by wannabehipster

Derek hears a strange yet pleasant tune- so faint even in the silent night. It's melodic, the most enchanting sound he's ever heard; Derek is already following the song before he recognizes the beat.

Predators

He was born for this. Nature itself whispered into his ear where he should put his hands, how to twirl his tongue just right and when to bite. Stiles knew well enough that his saliva was currently working its magic on this unfortunate man, making him hungry, lustful, and insatiable. Soon, all his thoughts would be consumed by Stiles. And, just this once, Stiles would allow Derek to consume him.

[masterlist link]

[theyluvlyss]

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 "𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬" 𝐟𝐢𝐜/𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞...

no offense, but it's the same five songs (a.k.a. same plots/reader types) over and over again. like guys - WHERE'S THE CREATIVITY ?! THE FANTASY ?! THE IMAGINATION ?!

like hellooo, there's literally vampires, magic/hoodoo, and a million themes both hidden and not-so-hidden to work with. not to say i'm not loving what i'm seeing right now, don't get it twisted - I am, and y'all are good,,, but I just think we can do more and better😌🙏🏽.

hence why, I present...

a list of some wip's I got goin' for the future, along with my takes on why/how I came up with them😻 !!

but before I begin...

fair warning #1 - you're welcome to be inspired, but plz don't steal, i'm putting so much effort into these, my notes app hasn't been closed not once😭🙏🏽.

fair warning #2 - ikik, most of these are remmick, plz don't come for me✋🏽🥲✋🏽. I was trying to get them all out of my head before I forgot them, I love working with vampire characters, and finally, yes ofc I will be conjuring up some more for bo chow, plenty for stack and smoke, and some for sammie :). I am a multifandom account, after all, I be working on helllllaaaa other things and trying not to forget them all, so cut some slack <3.

fair warning #3 - I mentioned this in my last post, but all of my readers are black/black-coded. obnoxiously so. because, and stay mad about it, but this is for the niggas, strictly for the niggas, like I don't give a FUCK, okay? y'all can request whatever y'all want (within reason, because if I see something weird in my inbox, you're blockt), but when it comes down to prompts like these - where they're made up by me, original thoughts, not asked for, this is my blog and I can post what I want type shit - it always gave black!reader, like it's the norm over here, I shouldn't even have to say it lol.

anyways, onto my wip's /ᐠ^˕^マ !!...

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okayokayokay, I know what I said earlier - "iT's tHe sAmE fIvE sOnGs🙉!!" - but listen... I have yet to see a vamp!reader fic where the reader being turned doesn't happen at the end, and it's vague, and doesn't explore that narrative further.

also, it's always intentional, which I get, yk, but I wanna switch it up, give y'all a taste of it being a complete accident and then further delve into the feelings, effects, experience of reader being turned. ofc, with remmick being there for assistance and emotional support in a rather "morbid-amused-lowkey unwanted by the reader, but they don't got much of a choice rn" sorta way lmfao.

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shoutout to the niggas workin' with brail rn, who's personal documents say "legally blind", who's prescription glasses are THICKKK asf...

I see you😌✊🏽.

was that outta pocket?

my fault, anyways...

my thought process behind this was very adhd, so before you attack me, hear me out lol.

vampires are so cool because one of their abilities is having their senses heightened to an almost unnatural degree - I want a reader who has that same ability, but I don't want them to be a vampire, just super skilled with their senses - how would a reader who's not a vampire have heightened senses? idk,,, what type of humans have heightened senses? - ...blind ppl (💀) have heightened senses cuz they can't see, so they have to rely on the other five to get by (because I believe in sixth senses lol)... crazy connetion, but it's true💀 - LOL imagine remmick and reader going sense for sense fr tho.

mr. I-live-for-the-hunt meets ms. i'm-not-the-one.

shit becomes a "don't breathe" remake rq (without the freaky-deaky stuff towards the end, unless y'all are into that, idk💀✋🏽-).

idk, I see a vibe here, it's getting written fs.

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I think it'd just be really funny to write about bo putting up with this silly, dramatic, type of reader. maybe a charlotte "lottie" la bouff type. spoiled but not rotten, definitely a character fr, and he entertains it because he loves it (won't admit it) and reader (admits and shows it).

reader is all pretty and pink and expressive and all her own, and honestly ?? she doesn't really have to go to visit his shop every single day, but she does because this little girl type crush just won't settle (won't admit it, but definitely shows it).

plus, HELLO, black wealth and excellence, idc if it's not fully accurate for the time, it's called fanfiction for a reason. get with it or get lost, let the girlies be drowned in privilege and in bo chow's love, attention, and care😻✨️🩷.

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vampires exist in this world.

you really think i'm not gonna entertain the possibility of other mythical creatures existing as well?

BOOOO LAME‼️

furthermore,,, you really think i'm not bold enough to apply that possibility to some sinners fanfic? did I not JUST talk about creativity??

oh, you not fuckin' with it???

BOOOOO LAAAAMMMEEE TOMATO TOMATO, I'M THROWING TOMATOES‼️🍊‼️🍊‼️.

anyways, I have nothing to explain this/myself more with other than this little sliver of dialogue, for fear of spoiling the fic idea I have in mind/am working on...

. . .

"Oh, honey..." You trailed, barely strangling back a laugh bubbling deep from within your chest, your voice lined with a sense of pity.

Knowingness.

Hardly any question when you asked, "...D'you really think you were the only monster lurkin' through these woods...?"

. . .

THAT'S IT, that's enough, that's all you're getting, teehee🤭🫵🏽.

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i'm a slut for whimsy (and size kinks), what can I say🤷🏽‍♀️?

also, I think I should HEAVILY lean into the "mischievous" aspects of how pixies/fairies are said to be - LOL just some lil' sparkly-winged, elf-eared, three-apples-tall ass creature/reader wreaking havoc on the kkk and others who do wrong, dirty, and evil, reader doing her best to uplift those who don't have her wings, who can't just fly away from the struggles happening all around, reader providing some fun and magic into little boy's and girl's lives, and-

oh, what's this?

reader spotting remmick absolutely devouring some poor soul who crossed his path and, well, they can't help but be interested and curious. maybe even mess with him a little bit.

cue remmick having to put up with reader's mystical magical nonsense, hating every second, but heaven forbid if something happens to the reader😌🥴✋🏽...

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(my picture limit ruined my aesthetic, y'all😔💔)

remmick x jaded!reader

lmfao ik that sounds wild, but lemme cook✋🏽🥴✋🏽...

reader who - doesn't not care - but it takes a lot to actually phase them/gain a physical reaction. and I mean a LOT.

also, like, they're a freak!! god forbid reader sees something they like, like🙀🙄... (throw back another shot after every like).

idk how i'm gonna pull this off, but I just think it'd be amusingly jarring for remmick to come across a reader who has no fears about his ass being a vampire, nor gives any fucks about his threats on turning them. they've seen and been under much worse circumstances...

"ain't no need for that, the last thing I wanna do is be stuck on this earth for another day😒✋🏽..."

"...I...wha-...y-"

"-if you play nice, though, i'll clean ya' up. you gettin' blood all over my laundry and I don't have time to redo the load."

cue unlikely friendship😻?

remmick is the semi-unruly puppy, and reader is the reluctant owner type beat, because you already know he's coming back, no way he's not😹.

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remmick x fiftiesera!reader

i'm feeling nice, so i'll go ahead and leak the title i'm gonna use😌...

. . .

" 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧' 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐡 "

. . .

to sum up what i've got in the oven...

religious themes/god complex/kink(?) - vampire turning ofc😌 - smut (have I mentioned that some of these prompts do include smut?? well, they do lmao) - do you have issues with your parents? reallllyy don't like them?? this fic will potentially heal some of that for you idk lol - the second out of two of my readers who are gonna be a little... naive... but it's fine, most of my readers so far have been pretty, "i'm not with that bullshit" types. we need ✨️balance✨️.

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remmick x heavyflow!reader

I won't lie, I saw a tumblr post on here that fully inspired what I have in mind...

so thanks to them, everybody thank this user lol. all I plan on doing is fleshing out this prompt into a full blown imagine, like deadass.

remmick at your door every time he can smell the start of your cycle...

yes bruh, I used my last pic for a meme, god forbid I put humor over visual pleasure, like🙄✋🏽...

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remmick x 2025era!/modern!reader

no idea what i'm gonna do with this, ngl, I just figured that if i'ma do a reader from the 50's, y'all would start screaming at me to do a modern reader, so🥴💀.

i'll take ideas/requests, tho :D !!

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that's a wrap (for now) !!

again, i'm very aware (and not proud) of the fact it's mostly remmick, but like I said, there's plans for sammie, smoke, stack, and bo, so don't get on my case, I just need time to keep brainstorming before I explode lmfao💀😭.

anyways, stay tuned y'all, because these fics are all currently in the works and I will be honest, the more ppl confirm they're rocking with these prompts and looking forward to them, the more likely/confident i'll be with actually getting them done and done well :).

byeeee, i'll be back in another millenia😻‼️✨️.

[juanarc-thethird]

Identity theft #1

Cinder: Okay, here's the plan: Neo will impersonate Pyrrha and enter her room to sabotage her weapons, so no one will know.

Emerald: Ok, but what would happen if her teammates show up?

Cinder: I wouldn’t worry about that. Nora and Ren are spending all day searching for the golden pancake, thanks to my amazing ingenuity.

Neo: "And what about the idiot?🤨?

Emerald: Yeah, what about Jaune? Is he busy too?

Cinder: Do you think that Dunce would question Pyrrha? Knowing him, he'd leave her alone while she "works on her weapons."

Neo: "But what if it does?🤔"

Cinder: So you deal with it, but under no circumstances should you throw away your cover, understood?!

Neo: "Yeah sure🙄"

Cinder: Good, now get to work.

Later that day.

"Pyrrha" enters Team JNPR's room, and begins searching through the closets for the real Pyrrha's weapons.

Pyrrha(Neo): (Which one is her closet?😒 I've only found bottles of maple syrup, tea herbs, and comic books. Don't tell me she doesn't have her…👀 Jackpot😎)

In the last closet, she finds Pyrrha's weapons, right at the bottom. She bends down to grab them but is surprised by a somewhat unusual touch.

Pyrrha(Neo): (Is someone touching my ass?!😡)

Jaune: Hello my love, did you hear that Nora and Ren won't be here all day?💕

Pyrrha(Neo): (Wait? They're a couple?! Wow... but I need to leave now. I'll just step aside and leave before anything else happe-AaaH~💕)

Neo feels Jaune's fingers slide inside her. His movements are slow and very stimulating.

Pyrrha(Neo): (God~, this is it, I need to get out of here before…😳!!!)

Suddenly she feels something hot and big between her ass cheeks. She looks back and sees a tremendous, well-endowed piece of meat looking at her directly.

Pyrrha(Neo): (Holy shit! Is fucking huge!😨)

Jaune: Sorry, I know you prefer it in bed, but you've made me so mad for you that I can't control myself. Is it okay if I put it inside you?

Neo can't stop looking at his member after he asked her that, and a silly idea popped into his head.

Pyrrha(Neo): (Well, Cinder did said to do whatever it takes to not blow our cover😏)

She looks at him and gives him a nod.

Meanwhile...

Cinder: Why is Neo taking so long?

Emerald: Maybe she stumbled upon something that can't get out yet?

Cinder: Maybe. Whatever it is, I hope it's a matter of life or death. Because if it isn't, she's going to get it.

Back to Neo...

Still wearing the "Pyrrha" disguise, Jaune has her on all fours, hitting her from behind with his tremendous meat stick, and choking her by the neck gently but firmly.

PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!

Pyrrha(Neo): "💕😮‍💨💕🤤💕‼️"

Jaune: Oh god💕! You're tighter than usual! I think I'm gonna cum!

Pyrrha(Neo): (YEs!💕 Cum inside me!💕 I want to feel your delicious warm milk inside me!💕)

Jaune: Oh Fuck💕! Im close!

Pyrrha(Neo): (Do it! Make me yours!💕💕)

Jaune: Oh Pyrrha!!💕

At that moment she can't feel her insides filling with cum, so much that some of it comes out.

Pyrrha(Neo): ( FUuUCk YEeeEes!💕💕)

They both take a breath. Then Jaune pulls his cock out of her, and it all spurts out like a champagne bottle. Staining the floor with his creamy milk.

Jaune: Oh god, I didn't think I'd cum that much. Well, how about a shower and then we go work out a bit?

Pyrrha(Neo): *Nods back*

Jaune: Excellent, I'll wait for you inside.

He says and gets up to go straight to the bathroom. Neo looks at Pyrrha's weapons and thinks for a moment.

Pyrrha(Neo): (I guess this is my only chance to finish the job🫤)

She then hears the sound of the shower running.

Jaune: Pyrrha, come on. I need you to clean me very thoroughly~💕

Pyrrha(Neo): (Well, I can't say I didn't try☺️)

She gets up and heads towards the shower.

But in the midst of all this, she never realized that a person was watching them from the shadows, one very happy to see such an event.

??????: *Giggles* Interesting

To be continued…

[cowboybeepboop]

Rescued

"Um, I...I need to clean up."

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Reynolds x fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2k

Summary: part two of my Bob smut 🥴

Warnings: unprotected sex, needy Bob, slight angst, idk

a/n: I’m obsessed with writing about him 😣 I need Lewis Pullman like a teenager needs their vape 😩 as always send any requests you might have my way! I’d love to get some more done 😛

Part one :

A couple days have passed since you and Bob shared your intimate moment together, and you’ve been avoiding him like hell. You knew that you shouldn’t have gone that far with him, he needed a friend and you felt like you took advantage of his loneliness.

Rubbing a hand over your tired eyes you stand in the kitchen, you haven’t been sleeping or eating much, avoiding the whole team is one of the most impossible tasks you’ve ever had. The clock reads 3:30 am, a small mess of dishes are left in the sink and the trash is overfilled.

“Fuck.” You run a hand through your messy hair, quietly beginning to do the dishes, a chore that’s been neglected recently.

Bob quietly creeps into the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes fixed on your form as you work on the dishes. He can see the tension in your shoulders, the heavy bags under your eyes, the way you avoid looking at him. It’s not hard for him to guess what’s going on.

He hesitates for a moment, watching you as you try to ignore him. He stands there for a few minutes, debating with himself, before finally deciding to say something. "You...you look tired."

“Oh, Bob.” You breathe out, part of you has been craving his company, craving the sound of his voice and then the other part of you feels immeasurable guilt for pushing the boundaries of your friendship. “How come you’re up so late tonight?” Pushing down your thoughts and feelings you try to pretend that nothing is wrong.

Bob can sense the shift in your demeanor, the way you're trying to act normal. He takes a few steps closer to you, his eyes fixed on you, searching for any signs of what's truly going on.

"I couldn't sleep." he murmurs softly, his gaze roaming over your exhausted form. "Just felt...restless."

“Is there anything I can do for you? Anyway I can help?” Keeping your eyes focused on the sink you don’t even notice Bob creeping toward you, hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Bob stands right behind you now, close enough that you can feel his body heat radiating through his thin t-shirt, his hands still fiddling with the material. He stares down at your back, his voice soft yet slightly hoarse, "Well...there is one thing..."

The feeling of him so close sends a comforting tingle down your spine, his cologne, deodorant, shampoo, all of it is filling your senses and putting you at complete ease. “Yeah? What’s that Bob?”

Bob takes a step closer, his chest now pressed up against your back, his breath warm on your neck. He places one of his hands on your hip, lightly applying the barest amount of pressure to turn you towards him.

"I could use some...company," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

Bob can sense your hesitation, your guilt, and he's not having it. He steps even closer to you, his body practically pressed against yours now, his fingers gently gripping your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"No," he murmurs roughly, his eyes locked onto yours, "Don't you push me away."

“What happened before, that was a mistake.” You know he’s better off pushed away from you, he needs friends, a *family*, not you, not this. “I should’ve never pushed those boundaries with you, it was a mistake,” You turn to face the dishes again, letting the warm water run over your hands.

His expression falters, a pang of pain shooting through his chest at your words. That's it? A mistake. Like that night was nothing, like he was some kind of fool to let his walls down around you.

Bob feels his mind wandering, thinking of all the negative things about himself, what things could make you act like this. He can’t think straight, he’s hurt, but more than anything he craves you. His arms find their way around your waist, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. “Please Y/N, don’t do this to me…” he whispers.

You lean back into his embrace, head falling over his shoulder a small moan escaping from your lips at the feeling of his breath against your skin. “Oh Bob,” his hands slide up your shirt, wandering your skin, his touch needy and desperate.

He can't help himself, his body craving your touch, his hands roaming over your skin, like he's trying to memorize the feel of you. He trails kisses along the column of your neck, murmuring against your skin, "You...you don't regret it, do you? Being with me like that."

His hands cup your breasts, as he pushes your body forward, bending you over the counter. “No, not at all.. I don’t regret anything with-“ you lose track of your thoughts, the feeling of his erection pressed against you sending your mind reeling. “With you..” you murmur, soft pants and moans leaving your lips as his hands continue their wandering.

Bob's hands continue their trail over your body, his touch becoming more and more desperate with every passing moment, his breath coming out in short, ragged gasps. "Good, that's...that's good." he murmurs against your skin, his lips never leaving you as they press soft kisses along your neck.

His fingers fiddle with the button of your pants, slowly popping them open to reveal the fabric of your underwear, his mouth moving to your ear, your name a breathy whisper, "Please, tell me you still want me. That I'm...enough."

“God.. you’re so much more than enough,” you moan, hands moving to help remove your underwear. “You’re all I need,” your cunt aches for his touch, body shaking with every move he makes.

"Please…let me make you feel good. Let me keep you. Let me show you...what you do to me," Bob murmurs gently in your ear, his words sending another shiver down your back. "Please, don't push me away," he whispers, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. "I'll...I'll show you."

As the fabric of your underwear slides down your legs, Bob's need for you overpowers his timidity. His hands, though gentle, are insistent as they explore the curves of your ass, gripping each cheek firmly. He leans in, his face buried in your hair as he whispers, "You're so beautiful."

His desperation manifests in the way his thumbs trace the line where your thigh meets your pelvis, his fingertips brushing against the wetness of your arousal. Despite his tentative touch, there's an urgency in his voice, a raw hunger that wasn't present before.

His breath hitches as he finally dips a digit into your folds, teasing and testing, as if seeking reassurance that you still crave him. The tender intimacy of the moment is palpable, his touch a silent plea for you to not deny him.

Bob's finger circles your clit with a gentle yet urgent stroking motion, his thumb pressing down firmly on the sensitive nub as he watches your reaction in the window over the sink. The sight of your face contorted in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut and mouth parted in a silent gasp, fuels his desire even more. He's desperate to erase any doubt between you, to prove that what happened wasn't just a fleeting moment of weakness.

His other hand snakes around to the front, his thumb brushing over your clit as two of his fingers slip inside your wet, eager pussy. You're so wet for him, and the feel of your tightness around his fingers is almost too much. He can't believe he ever doubted your feelings for him.

His strokes become more deliberate, his touch more confident, as he watches your body respond to his every move. The sound of your moans fills the quiet kitchen, mixing with the faint splashing of the faucet and the occasional clink of a dish. He feels your muscles tighten around his fingers, and he knows you're close.

His thumb presses harder, his fingers pumping faster, as he watches you climb closer to the edge. And when you finally do, your body arches back into him, your hand flying to cover your mouth to muffle the sounds of your orgasm, he feels a sense of triumph and relief wash over him. For this moment, at least, you're his, and he's yours.

Bob's need for you is palpable as he guides you away from the sink, turning off the faucet with his elbow, not once breaking the connection between his body and yours. He lifts you onto the kitchen counter, your legs wrapping around his waist as he steps between them. He's still fully dressed, but you can feel his erection straining against the fabric of his shorts, his hands trembling with anticipation.

With a gentle but firm grip, he lifts your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, his eyes drinking in the sight of your bare breasts. He lowers his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and biting gently, his tongue flicking and teasing the sensitive peak. You arch into him, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him closer as he gives your other nipple the same treatment.

The sound of fabric ripping fills the room as he impatiently pulls down his shorts, revealing his thick, hard cock. He lines it up with your dripping wet pussy, and with one swift, needy thrust, he's inside you. His hips rock against yours in a rhythm that's both gentle and rough, the kind of desperate claiming that leaves no doubt about his feelings for you. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he fucks you, his breathing harsh and ragged in your ear.

Your body responds instantly to his touch, your pussy clenching around him, drawing him deeper. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, making it impossible to ignore the connection that's been building between you since that night. The kitchen counter digs into your back, but you don't care, the pain only heightening your pleasure as he fucks you harder, faster, his cock sliding in and out of you with an urgency that speaks of his need for you.

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice hoarse with desire, his breath hot and panting against your skin. His hand moves between your legs, his thumb finding your clit once again, rubbing in time with his thrusts. You're so close, your entire body tightening around him, your nails digging into his back as you hold on for dear life.

And when you finally cum, it's with a loud cry that echoes through the empty house, your pussy spasming around his cock, milking him until he follows you over the edge, his own orgasm shaking him to his core. He collapses against you, his body weight pressing you into the cold countertop, his cock still buried deep inside you as he gasps for air.

Bob's body shakes against yours, his breaths ragged and labored, both his hands resting on your hips. He's still nestled between your legs, his head resting on your shoulder, his lips pressed against your neck. He doesn't move, doesn't say anything, he just stays there, his body completely enveloping yours.

Slowly, his body starts to relax, his breathing begins to even out. He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours. There's a vulnerability there, a hint of fear that everything that just happened was just some fever dream. "Please don't pull away from me." he whispers softly,

“I won’t.. not anymore, I promise.” You cover his face with kisses, gentle and sweet.

Bob relaxes into your touch, savoring the feeling of your lips on his skin. His grip on your hips loosens as he straightens up, his body no longer pressing you into the countertop. He glances down, a hint of embarrassment on his face as he realizes he's still inside you, his cock slowly softening.

He blushes as he looks down at where your bodies are still connected, his voice a soft whisper, "Um, I...I need to clean up."

[sanjisblackasswife]

𝕄𝕚𝕕𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝔽𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕥 (𝔼𝕏𝕋𝔼ℕ𝔻𝔼𝔻)

Sylus X Black Fem Reader

A/N: Imma also be turning this into a comic. So this is basically my script for it lmao.

Bad Summary: This is just my interpretation and continuation of what happened after listening to Sylus’s 145 Affinity Secret Time’s Midnight Feast. You can listen here if you haven’t gotten there yet.

CW: Oral (Both), squirting, cum eating, missionary, kissing, soft dom! Sylus, EATER! Sylus because i love eaters so bad, bit of aftercare, Sylus has a big dick, reader is described to be wearing a bonnet, fingering, no spell check

Sylus leaves you on the bed, nothing but the flimsy pj shirt that was above your tummy and your panties half way down your thick ass.

You were left no longer hungry for the food you ordered, but him. His lips still left a lingering blemish against your thigh, rubbing the creeping hickie in admiration you look back up at him putting back on his robe to open the door.

“Sorry for the delay. I….um…”

The poor man made the mistake of looking over Sylus’ shoulder to see you kneeling on the bed unbuttoning the shirt to take off, his eyes swallows your figure until an extremely huge and broad figure blocks his view.

“Anything else you need?”

Sylus’ voice was deeper and way more intimidating than what you were used to, luckily you didn’t hear the threat in his tone when he scared the room service man away in fear of his life after looking into his dark red eyes.

And just like clock work when your scary big man locks the door to see you his gaze softens, a smirk arises seeing you somehow struggle to take off such a flimsy top.

“Need help, sweetie?”

“I—! I got it I just—-Stupid bonnet started to come off while I was—-“ You felt the shirt snatch off your body, your breast bouncing after being freed you see the amusement in his eyes looking back at you and your tits, “Thank you.”

With a small huff, he cups your cheek to kiss you, Sylus had a habit of sucking your fatty bottom lip and he didn’t stop there. He was still in need of his fill.

He wanted to be selfish, and lay you on your back and achieve the goal of making you finally squirt for the first time after a night spent with you looking at twitter videos to get a good idea of what you both were into.

Sylus’ lips did most of his speaking, he captured your tongue in a dance before he began to suckle on it, the taste of your saliva only aroused the taller man more to place you flat on your back.

His kisses have grown better through time, first so hesitant and slow to now confident and hungry, practically swallowing your mouth while with his own.

“Sy….” You whined his name so sweet like the candy you ate earlier that he got a taste of, “Need you…”

“Oh?” His breath ragged, still trying to keep his composure as best as he can, but he was no match against you, you were the only person in this world to actually leave him on his knees, begging, “But don’t you—“

Your hands creep behind his nape to pull him back closer to your mouth, “That can wait…please.”

Who is he to deny you?

His body was on auto pilot, lips exploring your neck, to then give your nipples some attention, one being licked and sucked while the other tugged and twisted. Your body squirmed relentlessly under him, Your crotch being the only thing covered yet still felt around his tented robe when you buck you hips into him.

“C’mon…” Sylus’ mouth muffled from being filled with your breast, “Make some noise for me…”

He always calls you a kitten, but seeing how he was nuzzle and licking your chest and tummy made you think he was the real cat.

His name fell out of your mouth so smooth and sweet as honey Sylus began to get drunk off your body and noises, the way his larger figure lowered down to where he was needed most, he gave your covered clit a kiss, licking his lips to taste the damp arousal that stained him.

“Sylus!” Whining at his teasing when he only used his two fingers to pull off your panties to give a quick sniff, “Pervert.”

“You say it as if it’s an insult, sweetie.” You wanted to bark back, but he already began ravaging your clit, taking hold of it and gently tugging from around his lips.

Sylus is usually a man of composure, but right now it’s anything, but. You feel him nuzzle and shake his head sloppily between your thighs, if you were quiet for just a moment your could him groan and moan your own name into your lower lips, his grip on your waist were in a battle between being tightened and loose for your own comfort.

“Grind…against my mouth.” He huffed out, a spit trail still connecting you to him, he does a shy spit to your pussy, his thumb rubbing it in in circles before you grab his scalp to follow his command.

His mouth was already sending you over the edge, Sylus had no problem being your fuck toy for the evening, but he had his own selfish reason for doing so when he scooted his middle and ring finger inside you.

“Sylus!”

He lapped your clit while scissoring your cunt at a mild pace, whenever his tongue flicked under the hood you jerkered and he noticed.

Maybe that’ll do it.

He made it his focus under that cute little clit of yours, hooking his fingers inside you, it was like ecstasy.

“What’s wrong? You’re about to cum aren’t you?”

“Yes! But—“

He was right, but you also had a different feeling rumbling inside you, were you about to pee? You wanted to warn Sylus, nearly afraid you would, but he had this glint in his eye he knew exactly what was …cumming.

Sylus’ patience ran thin, he sat up a little to hold down your thighs with his forearms to keep you still, his eyes were going from closed to right back opened at you to see your reaction when you started to release yourself on his face.

It was uncontrollable, your body started to twitch on his own when he used his thumb to rub firm circles on you, “SYLUS!”

“Sssh shh. I’m right here, baby…just feel good for me…there you go…just like that….look em me sweetie…good girl.”

It was embarrassing until he talked you through your orgasm, his face so hot and drenched between your thighs he didn’t care, he got exactly what he wanted.

“You asshole.”

He laughs at your reaction, so feisty, and yet your body is still so so sensitive when his fingers graze up your thighs to your tear stained cheek, “I love you too, sweetie.”

When he kisses you it much more relaxed, a form of praise when you taste yourself on his tongue, all it did was riles you back up again.

“Sylus…” Your breathing started to regulate again, eyes on the covered tent you so desperately wanted to see, “Can i…?”

“Help yourself.”

Your fingers loop through his robe belt, finally able to see his hard on, it was curved, reddish and twitching with joy, you notice the excessive leaking and blinked, “Did you…?”

“I always do.” He knew what you were about to ask, of course he cums untouched just by eating you. He has no shame in it.

Your pleasure is his.

But what he doesn’t know is that it also applies to you as well.

“Can you stand for me?”

He does so with a quirk in his eyebrow, you sit on your knees for a moment and admire his body, hands exploring from his neck, not daring to choke him, you know he doesn’t like it so when he tenses up a little you kiss his Adam’s apple, then his chest, all the way down to his pelvis.

“You don’t—“

“Please….”

He cups your cheek to kiss you one more time, and nods. “If you want to stop just say so okay?”

“Yes sir.”

you crawl over to him closer to pull down his robe half way, and begin to take hold of his shaft, he watches you intensely to make sure there are no signs of discomfort from you taking him in, you don’t often get the opportunity to suck him off considering after he does he already is inside you or you fall asleep after cumming. But you craved to taste him, and he seen it in your eyes as you took in half of his dick down your mouth.

He lets out a strained groan of your name, throwing his head back feeling your tight wet mouth bob up and down, he held up your chin for support and to get a good look at you,

“You’re so beautiful.”

Your hand was on his thigh, feeling him flex it when your lips began to touch his pubic hairs and came back to his tip, the mix of his pre cum and your spot slide down your cheeks.

You got sloppy, your free hand twisted the remainder of his shaft that was no longer in your mouth and it drove Sylus insane,

“Baby—!”

He started bucking his hips a little, knowing he didn’t want to make you choke he still had enough restraint to hold back, up until he came down your throat.

“Y/N—!”

Despite the mess he helped you on your knees to kiss you, pecking your face in appreciation kisses you pulled him back down in between your thighs, “Need…more.”

“Of course.” His voice was hurried to adjust you comfortably, he grabbed a pillow and placed it under your lower back, lifting one your your legs to hook around his hip, with one swift motion he slid his tip inside you.

You both shared a gasp, something he could never get enough of was the bright look in your eyes when he gets to crawl inside you, the first initial shock reaction was something he always drunk up, he gave you a moment to adjust to his size. Even if you felt stretch out enough with his tongue and fingers you were still so so tight around him,

“You…can move, Sy..”

Without word he did so, the sturdy bed below somehow began to creak a little, the room was filled with heavy breathing and moans of each others name and praise. You felt Sylus’ fingers reach out to yours to interlock as he always does.

He burrows his face in your neck, “You feel so amazing, sweetie. I love you. I love you so much.”

“I…love you….”

His pace started to quicken, you lifted your legs higher up his waist for more access and that’s when your felt everything he was giving you, his hips kept snapping against your cunt you felt tears prickle in your eyes.

“Are you close, kitten? Please…please tell me you are.”

Everytime he asks that it almost felt like a rhetorical question because like clock work you were. Even after cumming together it still wasn’t enough for you both.

It was a small silence for you both, heavy breathing in each others mouth and occasional kisses, he lets go of your hand to place you on top of his chest, you could hear his heartbeat race so quickly it was almost worrisome if you didn’t know his heartbeat was already naturally fast.

“Are you…alright?”

His ragged breaths made you giggle to look up at him, he was glistened with sweat and dressed in red from his cheeks to his ears. Even his hair was falling from its original state to be glued to his wet forehead. You lean yours against his, taking a moment to appreciate to quietness that is surrounding you this evening.

“I am….thank you.” You peck his forehead before sitting up.

“You don’t need to thank me for something I’d always give you.” Sylus chuckles in between words and rubs the sides of your hips and thighs, “Whenever you want it.I will give it to you.”

“Yeah, well…I will anyways.”

“Did you still want to eat your snack, sweetie?”

“Yes. As long as you eat it with me.”

[envy-of-the-apple]

pt 2 cuz so many ppl asked!

Part one

ok fine so maybe he isnt adverse to lavender BUT you still have a demon problem on your hands! sure he hasn't hurt you, yet, but all demons are waiting for their chance and you needed to strike back first!

you happen to see her outside. maybe you were doing yardwork or something when you see a blur of red stumbling about in the bushes. Naturally, you help the woman out, along with getting out that weird jagged contraption she insists on carrying around with her. she thanks you happily and is more than happy to tell you that her name is Grell and she was currently on her way to see 'bassy' but these days he had been hiding from her.

"Hiding?" You repeat. "wait...you’re saying he's scared of you?"

"Yes!" She strikes a pose. "He's terrified that my dashing looks might charm him."

you're not sure if thats the reason...but it is very odd that he hasn't turned up yet. the demon hates intruders, you know what he's done to the last guy who tried to get into the estate. Yet, grell is just fine waltzing around.

No way...he was avoiding of her.

She was your charm!

You take her hands in your own and passionately declare how touched you were by her commitment to winning ("...bassy" ugh it was so hard to say it without gagging) over, and you want to help her. Absolutely delighted, she agrees and you two instantly become 'best friends'.

You invite grell over all the time. she's your friend after all. you two do everything together, practically connected at the hip. You two even have sleepovers together (you're not a big fan of those, considering all what she does is go on and on about how much she loves that terrifying demon).

Your master does agree for Grell to keep visiting when you ask him. He's up for anything that might piss Sebastian off.

"Though, I'm elated this vexes sebastian...are you sure about this? that women is insane." He tells you after you tell him about your 'new bestie'.

And yeah, he's right. its clear that Grell isn't human, but she isn't a demon. and you'd prefer that over Hell.

Much to your delight, Sebastian does stay away. he is no longer lingering around when you're cleaning rooms cuz Grell is right next to you, blabbering about the hot men she saw on the way over here. You dont feel his presence right by your door at night anymore because Grell is in bed beside you...hogging all the blankets that bitch. still! it's working! you feel peace.

until....things go wrong.

eventually Grell starts to slowly put some pieces together. If she's being completely honest...she's not too sure what she ever saw in sebastian. he's hot but...he's also a bastard who has tried to kill her numerous times. and the thrill of lusting after him was starting to get a little old...but you're new.

You care about her. When she's rambling about things, you're humming and nodding along. You laugh at some of the jokes she makes. You tell her how pretty she is...you're just a thousand times better than that nasty demon who nearly got her canned.

"We should get married!" Grell declares.

"Ah," you say, not really listening. "You and Sebastian?"

"No, silly. Me and you!"

...what?

Suddenly your charm becomes yet another supernatural entity that's obsessed with you.

She chases follows you around the manor, telling you the flower decor she wants and what kinds of music she wants to be played. You try to dissuade her with multiple excuses: she's a paranormal entity ("thats alright! i love you for who you are<3"), you're too young to be getting married ("we can wait!"), but each one is just chopped down.

Eventually, you're forced to hide in a broom closet to get away from her. When you glance over, Sebastian is right next to you.

Oh...he was hiding too.

when you ask for a truce…he agrees. You two were in the same boat after all.

"Can't you just...get rid of her?" You plead.

He smiles, but it looks pained.

"Unfortunately, the young master declared that unless that woman specifically bothers him...she is not to be harmed."

You groan, burying your face in your hands.

You should've stuck with the demon butler.

[classjezter]

First of all, just wanted to let you know that your Baby Prime is super adorable. I’ve never seen a drawing of a sparkling that isn’t, but something about your little guy is just the cutest thing ever, and I want to cuddle with him so badly!

Second, since Optimus has been kidnapped by the Cons for a few weeks now, and I’m not sure how long he was tiny before that, what have the Bots who know what’s going on told the other Autobots who they kept Baby Prime a secret from? Have the others been getting suspicious as to what happened to their leader and started asking questions? If they haven’t yet, have the ones in the know considered bringing anyone else in on the secret to get their help?

Thank you! I’m glad my drawings can convey the cuteness of the little guy. I too wish I could pinch his little cheeks.

As for the autobots, the official story they came up with was that Optimus was off on super top-secret missions, “stuff only a Prime could handle”. It also gave them a solid excuse so they could disappear for days and take care of baby Optimus. All they had to say was, “I’m joining the Prime for a bit,” and no one asked questions. To sell the bit even more, Wheeljack built a device that could take anyone’s voice and make it sound exactly like Optimus on real time. So even if no one had seen the Prime for a while, they’d heard him.

Most Autobots bought the story, but a few had started picking up on things. They noticed the little things, the way of those in the know acted too defensively when asked about the Prime, the strange silence from those who usually had more to say, the avoidance of certain questions, their stories not matching up the way they usually did.

And then things got worse after Optimus' kidnapping. Our main crew started acting more on edge, less relaxed, worry constantly hanging over them. Some want to come clean to the rest of the Autobots, knowing they needed all the help they could get, but others are hesitant. They fear it might put Optimus in even more danger, or cause a rift in the Autobots if they found out how long they’d kept the state of their leader a secret. But no matter what, sooner or later the truth will come out.

I have a plan for how things will go, they will have to come clean to some autobots. But I haven’t yet chosen who they’ll tell yet. I have a few in mind but I’m curious if you guys have any specific requests or recommendations on to who they should tell and why?

[specific-dreamer]

thinking about there being a tension in the curtis house that’s been building for a few days and over dinner one night grouchily pony says “jesus darrel it’s like you hate us or something” and darry, who is so completely not here here bc he’s trying not to holler or do something he’ll regret, accidentally says “god if only” in the most wistful tone that has both his brothers snapping their necks to look at him

and soda, in a low voice that sounds like it’s taking everything in him to not panic, asks “what does that mean?”

eyes widening darry forces a laugh out and a fake smile that hardly reaches his cheeks let alone his eyes. “i didn’t mean to say that”

ponyboy waits, “but you did, so.” his voice is steady in the way that only a fresh teenagers could be; ready to be angry, better yet, ready to force his actual feelings down because it’ll be easier to hit and holler than feel upset. “what the heck does that mean”

there’s no escaping. he knows this, which might be part of why darry huffs through his nose and leans back in his chair. they’re silent for a moment as darry looks around; soda’s looking down at his plate, obviously having lost his appetite. the clock says it’s 6:36 pm, a later dinner than usual but eating dinner as a family isn’t a tradition that’s supposed to go away anytime soon. ponyboy’s doing his best to stare darry down, but darry knows his baby brother well enough to know that the kid’s staring into space in an ill attempt to not feel anything.

unfortunately, he’s done the same thing too many times to be able to do it again tonight. “i’m not saying i do hate yall, i just think it’d be easier if i did.” and he probably shouldn’t add the next part, but it’s only fair to be honest. “at least that way i wouldn’t be working myself into a stupor for feeling guilty.”

“what are you guilty of?” soda asks in that same melancholy tone he’s been harboring all week.

darry doesn’t want to admit this, but he’s been having these dreams where he’s still in school and the boys aren’t anything more than an afterthought. if he’s truthful those are one of his favorite dreams because it’s the only time he ever wakes up with a smile.

but then, once he gets out the bed and starts getting ready for the day, reality sets in and he’s quickly disappointed. and then he gets those chest stabs that always come along with guilty feelings.

all because he felt disappointed. because shouldn’t he be waking up with a smile everyday since his brothers aren’t living in a foster home with random strangers? shouldn’t he be happy that he got to keep his brothers even if he had threw all his goals away? even if he did “throw it all away” he’s got them and that ought to count for something right?

“it’s not fair,” he ends. “it’d be a lot easier if i did hate yall because id be able to just walk away, guilt free. but that’s never gonna happen,” he adds. darry’s started collecting their plates before he catches sight of ponyboys quivering lip and the shininess of sodapops eyes. “because i don’t hate yall. i love you. both of you. and that ain’t never gonna change no matter how much i wish it on a bad day, hear?”

he feels that guilt creeping up again when pony gives him a look that he hasn’t seen since the kid was five years old and darry shoved him away to go play with the big kids. his eyes are all squinty and his mouth is frowned and he’s taking shallow breaths like it’s all he can do to keep from sobbing. “you promise?”

a quick glance tells him soda ain’t fairing no better. he’s got his head laid on the table, not even bothering to wipe the tears cascading down his face.

darry sighs and leaves the table to put the plates in the sink. turning the tap on he says, “you know, when you were born soda cried his eyes out.”

“really?”

“mhm. that christmas, he made me write santa asking to exchange you for a real pony.”

he can hear pony’s wet gasp and the distinct sound of someone’s chair getting kicked. “soda!”

“darrel!”

it takes everything in him not to laugh yet as he scrubs the plates. “yeah, he told mama he hated you and wasn’t gonna love you unless you became a real pony.”

“darry, you said you wouldn’t tell him-“

“it’s alright though,” he says when he turns around and sees the crestfallen look on ponyboy’s face. “cause i said the same thing when soda was born.”

“you did?” they ask at the same time.

“yeah, i followed daddy around everywhere right? and when they told me they were pregnant with soda, i said i didn’t want a brother because then i’d have to share daddy. fast forward, im holding a baby soda in my arms and i look at his tiny face and say ‘i didn’t want you’ then mama asked why and i said ‘cause i hate him!’ and you know what mama did?”

he’s never seen them both so silent and still, but they’re clearly enraptured by his story because neither make an attempt to answer. “she laughed right in my face. she laughed and she’d said ‘no you don’t. you can dislike him all you want, but sodapop is family and you don’t hate family.’ mama was right, of course. later that night daddy said he found me in the crib with soda, both of us knocked out but i had let you use my arm as a pillow.

and christmas day, pones, you spat up all over my new sweater and soda ‘bout laughed himself silly declaring he loved you and you were his new favorite.”

the plates are drying on the counter with darry takes his seat again. both the boys have shiny eyes but also have a small smile attempting to grow.

darry doesn’t mean half the shit he says when he’s feeling stuck. he’s changes his mind on things every second of every day, because this his first time being a real adult or a guardian, but the only thing he hasn’t changed his mind on is loving his brothers.

even though he wishes he were still in college, darry hasn’t for a second regretted loving them enough to give up his dreams to be their legal guardian and keep them all together.

sometimes he has to remind himself that he doesn’t regret it, and sometimes he has to remind them, but that’s alright. because at the end of the day, they’re all together. at the end of the day he’s got both his brothers and (if he takes the time to spray their perfume and cologne on their pillows) it’s almost like he’s still got his parents too

[mee30p]

Links page

Needs you to sleep ˗ˏˋ♡ˎˊ˗

☽ Summary: Daryl finds himself after a sleepless start to his night wandering down the street of Alexandria until he arrives at your house.

☽ Warnings: nothing really? Fluff, Talking about sleeping with shoes in the bed

☽ Word count: 0.8k

It’s an ungodly hour but Daryl can’t seem to get to sleep at all so he found himself laying on his back in his bed staring at the ceiling. A common reoccurrence for him. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t settle into Alexandria as quickly as the others have, it feels wrong like he’s waiting for it to all come crumbling down again the second he lets down his guard. Hell it took him a whole fucking week to stop sleeping fully clothed boots and all with his cross bow ready incase something happened.

 Daryl had been tossing and turning in bed for what felt like hours yet he couldn’t find a single position that would allow him to silence the chaos in his head. Sure Alexandria seemed relatively safe, safer than most places he’s been in a long time. But no matter what he did or how many people he spoke to he could never manage to let down his guard. He couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the luxury of this seemingly peaceful and safe life. Maybe it was just a little too domestic for his liking. the woods were all he knew, since childhood he’d never really settled into normality. 

Like clock work for the past few weeks every few days. Daryl finds himself once again walking down the dark empty streets of Alexandria towards your house. He tells himself it’s just to clear his head and try to tire himself out but like always he finds himself gripping the handle of your front door and pushing it open before he can even think about the time seeking the comfort of your presence as much as he hates to admit it. 

Much to his surprise you are already awake sitting in the living room of your small house at a table smoking a cigarette, a near finished glass of what seems to be whiskey in your hand. You purse your lips and hum before taking a long drag of your cigarette and letting the smoke curl out of your mouth “couldn’t sleep again?” you hum with a tilted head. Daryl shakes his head in response despite you telling him you don’t mind him coming over anytime there's always an embarrassed but hard to miss expression on his face as he rubs the back of his neck. He scans the room, his gaze locking with yours as you look at him. “Nah.. tried but couldn’t. Ended up here again” He mutters, his voice low and tired. 

“Seem to always” you point out in a mutter but your tone is soft and clearly suggesting that you need his company as much as he needs yours. You nod to the chair opposite you at the small square table. Daryl grunts in agreement as he flops down into the chair, his body sinking into the wood. He rubs his hands over his face, clearly exhausted. "Yeah, it seems like it." he sighs, his gaze flickering to the glass of whiskey in your hand before meeting your eyes once again. "You wanna finish this off?" you offer as you stand up and slide the whiskey glass over to Daryl. You put out the butt of your cigarette on the ashtray before sighing loudly. You watch the last of the amber liquid disappear into Daryl’s mouth then down his throat before you grunt softly and start walking.

 “Come on” Is all you say but it’s all he needs to hear as Daryl follows you to your bedroom, a thing that has become a wordless routine for the both of you. You climb into your side of the bed before watching as Daryl toes off his boots and pull off his jeans leaving them on the floor before climbing into bed next to you.

Once you determine that Daryl is in a comfortable position you shimmy over to his side and drape a leg over his and an arm over his midsection before laying your head on his upper chest. Daryl tenses initially like every time before he melts into the touch, both of you don’t dare to utter a word because you both know this isn’t something best friends just do and stay strictly just friends. You let out a final sigh before your eyes flutter shut quicker than they do without Daryl laying next to you hand on your hip. 

Despite Daryl's seemingly never ending insomnia the moment he feels you let out a final sigh a wave of content and drowsiness washes over him. As much as he hates to admit it, Daryl needs this, he needs you to sleep, he needs to feel your body pressed against his and he needs to feel your soft breathing as you sleep safely against him. Sooner than expected Daryl feels his eyelids become heavy with the weight of sleep before he gives up and shuts them fully, his mind and body finally at peace even if it’s just for tonight your presence is one luxury he allows himself to delve in. 

[cosmica-galaxy]

You know how little kids will instantly teleport away when you take your eyes off them for just a second? Well…

Dark Cacao Cookie leaves the Vanilla Kingdom after a meeting only to find the baby hiding and clinging to him with a death grip after hours later. Pure Vanilla Cookie nearly dies of a heart attack upon realizing the baby’s SOMEHOW ended up leaving the Kingdom unnoticed.

The warriors of the Dark Cacao kingdom let out a few long huffs as they drop off the supplies onto the ground of their snow-covered home. Their king, Dark Cacao Cookie, proudly standing in front of them as he takes roll-call of all the warriors that have returned from the Pure Vanilla Kingdom.

He runs down a list of names for those that had volunteered to go to the far off kingdom, going one by one until the list finally draws near the end.

"Caramel Arrow Cookie." "Here, my king!" The Watcher announces. "Crunchy Chip Cookie." "Here with the Cream Wolves, sir!" The Wolf-Rider calls out, raising a proud fist into the air. "Good. Then that is everyone. Make haste to unload the supplies and restock the rations. Those winter storms will be coming soon enough and we must prepare!" Dark Cacao orders, his heavy soul-jam sword raised high into the air to finalize his orders. "Yes sir!!!" Came a chorus of warrior shouts as the small army breaks up and begins to do as they are told. Yet, the king does not move. His eyes scan his citizens with careful consideration and he could see that Crunchy Chip seemed to be having a problem with his wolves. The cookie in question was scratching his head and trying to pull a rather stubborn Cream Wolf away from the ration crates that were sitting upon the sleds, yet it refuses to budge. He approaches. "Crunchy Chip Cookie." The cookie in question nearly jumps out of his dough at being addressed by the king, who draws close to his location. "What is the matter with your Cream Wolf? It seems to be acting very strange lately..." "A-AH. Y-Yes. Well. (Ahem) You see, for some reason, Cream Wolf has been acting weird around the cargo sled ever since we left the Vanilla Kingdom. It keeps putting their head into the sacks and sniffing about." He admits, pointing at the crates and sacks on the sled.

"But I kept checking to see if anything is amiss and I haven't seen, smelled, nor heard anything coming from the crates! But the Cream Wolf just...won't leave the cargo sled alone!" The black and white cookie merely lets out a sigh of defeat. "I just don't understand what is going on! Is something spoiled? Are they looking for treats? Is there something wrong with the food?" "Hmm...how peculiar. Step aside for a moment and let the Cream Wolf investigate while I observe." "Yes sir..." Dark Cacao steps forward and watches the Cream Wolf sniff about the cargo sled. It doesn't stray from a certain area...nor from a certain large crate. It circles it at many angles, but doesn't move away or alter it's investigation. "Open that crate." Dark Cacao orders, in which Crunchy Chip was quick to rip the lid off, revealing multiple fabrics and star jellies on the inside. The Cream Wolf was quick to bury it's head into the cloths and jellies. "Aha! I KNEW you were just after the jellies that Pure Vanilla gave us! What happened to--" "Hehe!" Both Dark Cacao and Crunchy Chip Cookie fall silent in shock the moment a familiar giggle could be heard from within the crate. In fact, the Cream Wolf seemed to become excited and their tail began to wag as it started to...lick something? "Heheh! Found me!!" Came a childish voice from within. Dark Cacao and Crunchy Chip Cookie could only feel shock rock them to their bitter cores when a familiar witch spawn peeks out of the fabrics, the Cream Wolf getting more excited and whimpering in response. The moment the child looked at the two cookies, they smile and give them a little wave. "Hi Cowcow!! Cwunchy!! Woofy!!" "Oh no..." Was all that Dark Cacao could say at that moment once he realized that the witch spawn had stowed away in their supplies. "I need to inform Pure Vanilla on where his child is. I can only imagine how fretful he is currently back at the castle..." Dark Cacao sighed. "Courier Cookie! Write me a letter to Pure Vanilla immediately!" He demands.

"Yes sir!" Came a distant call from a nearby cookie.

[the-eeveekins]

We Need To Put "Up to Interpretation" To Rest, For Good

It's been nearly 2 years since Mobile Suit Gundam The Witch From Mercury ended with Suletta & Miorine explicity married to each other, sharing a tender moment together among family and friends. Sapphics and yuri fans were given an absolute treat that is still a rarity these days: a mainstream anime that is centered around two queer women and their relationship, one that ended in them being married.

And yet, if you bring up Sulemio or The Witch From Mercury, there's a 90% chance someone will bring up "Up to Interpretation." And it almost always feels like it's just to downplay the relationship. Let's be clear: Bandai refusing to openly stand by and support the show they created is still a spineless move. But the reality of the statement has been so thoroughly twisted by bad actors and people with only a passing knowledge that there is a common belief that it was much worse than it actually was.

Bandai has never rejected or denied Sulemio, nor have they tried to bury the show and the relationship. They continue to create Sulemio merchandise, often specifically pairing the two of them together. They're putting out a spin-off manga featuring them later this month. And they have frequently talked about what a success the show and the gunpla was, how many new fans it has brought into the franchise and have featured it in SD Gundam and Super Robot Wars now. This may not be the 50 episode sequel series with Sulemio kissing and having sex on screen like some queer fans wanted, but that was never going to happen anyway. We know Bandai's Gundam lineup was full for a few years out regardless of the success of G-Witch, and if you're familiar with the franchise, you know that Bandai has hardly tried to bury the show to any extent.

Bandai's "Up To Interpretation" statement was literally just that: they said fans should interpret the show how they want. And the Witch From Mercury only has one good faith Interpretation of it's ending: Suletta and Miorine and married and in love. Anyone who isn't a bigot that keeps bringing up Bandai and the statement whenever Sulemio is discussed is merely doing the work for them. Continuing to bring it up is acting in just as much bad faith as the people who continue to argue the show and the girls aren't gay.

Don't allow G-Witch not being the perfect queer show you imagined in your head to lead you on the path that puts you on the side of bigots.