#so anyway this really throws a wrench in my plans

[vaporwave-gothic]

Guess who got accepted into university???? Hahaha not me for some fucking reason

[rxzennia]

hibernation/ brumation

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 winter dormancy.

in his five years of being your boss, aventurine hasn’t ever seen you send in a request for leave. but here he is, staring at your application for a month-long vacation.

a month? isn’t that a little too long?

you didn’t even stick a little comment about where you’re going or what’s happening, dammit! he wants to know so bad, but he feels like he’ll either overstep his boundaries or come off as clingy if he asks.

he’ll approve it, of course!

he wants you to not hate your job, and part of being a good boss is letting his subordinates take the leaves they’re entitled to

and you deserve a nice, long break, anyway

but the curiosity is killing him inside. what will you be doing? will you still hang around the IPC?

he really, really wants to barge into your office and wrench an explanation out of you

and also, how dare you try to take leave right into the holidays! rude

he wanted to take you out to dinner! to fancy places! he was prepared to have a schedule full of you!

totally not dates or his attempts to spoil you

he totally isn’t thinking of doing it so that you’ll spoil him in return

he’s found out that you respond to him if he rants at you

and that you get very soft and careful with him if he presses the right buttons

he digs that so much it’s unreal

there’s something about having you, of all people, treat him tenderly

perhaps because he’s seen firsthand what kind of monster hides in your scarf

or… what kind of monster hides beneath your silent, icy exterior

it just hits different when someone like you treat him so gently

and he knows for a fact that you’ll never abuse that power you have

he absolutely loves that. 100%.

“guess who’s here!” aventurine announces as he enters your office without so much as a knock, “hard at work, my favorite secretary?”

“out, please.” you hiss, sparing him barely a glance from your computer, “i’m concentrating.”

since when did your complaints stop him

he saunters over and sits himself on your armrest anyway

your scarf lift him up and set him down on the couch opposite to you

he finds his way back to your chair

you put him on the couch again

he comes back to your armrest

is he a cat obsessed with a particular box (namely, your chair) or something

you give up

“what is it?” you relent, scooting over so he can fit onto your seat, too, albeit barely

this man does not hesitate to invade your personal space

“where are you going for a month, hmm?” he asks with a playful smile, “can’t even tell me?”

oh, so that’s what this is about

but why is he resting his face in his hand and looking at you like he’s trying to flirt?

“hibernation.” you keep typing without giving aventurine much of a reaction, “not exactly, but close. brumation.”

wait. wait, what?

it doesn’t take a genius to know that aventurine is currently flabbergasted. “you… hibernate? like sleep hibernate?” 

“no, i hibernate awake.” you mumble sarcastically, but he catches it even if your words are muffled

“c’mon, i’m just checking!” he throws his hands in the air as if protesting your attitude

“yes, i sleep, for the most part.” you scoot over a little more and lift him up, setting him down in your lap. “but i’ll be awake here and there.”

you rest your head on top of his and continues to work, effectively caging him in

he realizes you’re much more like a snake than he thought

not in an alarming way

you’re coiling around him, but, like, in a friendly danger noodle way

“will you?” he chuckles; maybe his plans aren’t entirely foiled, after all, “for how long?”

you look at him. “a few minutes up to an hour?” 

you’re only getting up for water and/or changing sleeping positions

never mind, his plans to try to spoil you is, in fact, foiled

he pouts. he had the entire thing planned out already! all five days that you’ll be off!

he looks like a kid who’s about to buy the last donut but you beat him to it and buy the donut right in front of his eyes.

“you can visit.” you say, and you see him light up almost immediately. 

though, you don't think there’s much worth visiting, but whatever makes him happy

when aventurine visits you during your well-deserved vacation, he’s pleasantly surprised. you’re sleeping so peacefully, despite the fact that you usually rarely sleep at all.

you’re curled up into half a ball under your blankets and your scarf

and letting out little snores

is this what you look like when you’re asleep? 

so adorable. if only you’d let him see it often…

but he doesn’t know the frequency of your brumation period

as far as he knows, it’s once in five years, but he has no idea if it’s more than five years

you’re not covering your face, either

aeons, he loves seeing your unobscured face

you’re so beautiful under your scarf

especially the patches of scales along your neck, they glitter in white gold under the light

he wishes you wouldn't try to cover them up

during your entire month, he’s going to be in your room whenever he’s free

he will totally try to sleep next to you at night

what? it’s not like you haven’t shared a bed before!

it’s just that you’ve never been asleep by each other's side!

you will cuddle into him if he tries to hold you

and you will get fussy if he tries to get out of the hug

if only you were as honest when you’re awake

aventurine has been trying to catch you in your small conscious windows, but he’s having not much luck with that. though, this isn’t exactly a gamble, so “luck” might not be the right word here.

he’s so busy; he’s drowning in work 

your temporary replacement isn’t very good at their job

or maybe he’s just used to the way you do things and now everything feels wrong

he wants you back already 

because nowadays he barely has an hour to spend with you apart from bedtime

he hates it

what do you mean by he can’t sit next to your sleeping form while he signs papers?

horrible, very horrible

but eventually he does catch you when you’re awake

you’re drowsy and you’re dragging your blankets and your scarf with you around your room

the cutest thing he’s ever seen in a long while

he watches as you clumsily pour yourself some water, spilling some on the table because you can’t line up the jug and the glass properly

and he watches as you sluggishly flop onto your couch after you’ve downed the water

“had enough of the bed?” he asks, sitting down next to you and brushing a few strands of hair away from your face

“hnnnnnngh,” you grumble and turn to face away from him, you just want to go back to sleep

then you remember this is your boss’s voice

and you reluctantly mumble, “it’s too warm…”

do you even know what you’re saying? you’re melting his heart

“oh, that so? it’s too hot over there?” aventurine snickers softly, his hand caressing your face, the cool fabric of his glove making you sigh in delight. “you’re so lovely.”

he recognizes the amount of trust you have in him to let him visit you when you’re sleeping, and it’s doing things to his stomach. you’re so lazy, so barely aware of your surroundings, but you trust him to be around you while you are in this state.

there is an urge, and he acts on it. he nuzzles against your cheek, rubbing your noses together and planting a small kiss on your forehead. he’s been dreaming of holding you like you’re his greatest treasure, but he’s never mustered up the courage to do it. 

maybe someday he will tell you, and then he’ll be allowed to adore you openly the way he’s always wanted to.

“my favorite snake,” he whispers to himself, feeling a shudder of affection throughout his bones, “sleep well. i’ll look forward to taking you out when you rise.”

[kassiekole22]

Joy Ride

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

Pairing: Brian O'Conner X Fem!Reader

Description: Brian finds you walking home late one night and offers you a ride, which turns into a night-long joy ride around Miami.

Warnings: Fluff, Speeding, Friends Or Future Lovers? (You Decide)

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Sooooo, I watched 2 Fast 2 Furious for the first time a around a month ago and this guy has been on my mind ever since. I have always really loved Paul Walker so this was bound to happen eventually. 😂 I don't know if I plan to write more for him or if this will just be a one time thing, but I have been working on this fic for quite some time now and I'm happy to finally be posting it. More to come from other beloved characters soon! Enjoy the fic and if you want more Brian O'Conner fics in the future, let me know in the comments or inbox! 🖤 (Also did any of you get the reference in the name? 👀)

Main MasterList: 🖤

Kassie's Angels: @mornandil, @lorebite.

(If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

2002

The air is pretty cool for a night in Miami, but I don't mind. I walk with my hands in the pockets of my hoodie, protecting them from the slight chill. It's nothing too intense, but I haven't been used to being in cooler temperatures for awhile now.

I walk quickly down the sidewalk as a few cars pass from time to time. The sounds of their engines make my fingers and feet tingle a little, my body missing the feeling of the steering wheel gripped in my fingers and the gas pedal under my foot.

I wrecked pretty badly during my last race, resulting in my car becoming too banged up to drive. Most street racers have other cars to fall back on. Unfortunately for me, my girl was all I had. Now I'm left to walk on foot until I can get enough money to fix her.

The ambiance in the street is pretty calm until I hear the familiar rumble of a very specific engine approaching my side. To my surprise, that iconic silver and blue Nissan Skyline pulls up, slowing down to drive at my walking speed. But the slick paint job or glowing underbody isn't what makes it difficult to look away. The driver is none other than the man who beat me in my last race, Brian O'Conner.

I'm met with a kind smile as he rolls down his windows, his bright blue eyes glancing up at me from the shadows of the interior. There is just something about that man that draws me in. I could never tell what exactly it was, but it pulled me in his direction like a bee to a flower every time I was in the same location as him.

"Ey, need a ride?" He queries in a rasied voice, nearly shouting over the Skyline's growl.

Though it's tempting, I don't want to throw a wrench in any plans he may have. Knowing him, he has another street race or date to get to at this hour. So, despite the aching pain in my feet that is screaming in protest, I respond casually, "Nah, man. I'm good. Home's not too far away anyway, y'know?"

Even though it wouldn't take him too long, it would be pretty pointless to drive only a couple blocks anyway. He takes a mere second to let my words sink in and find an answer, his eyes hopeful as they are taken off the road and landing on me once more.

"We don't gotta take you home. The night's still—" He checks his watch, and his eyes widen slightly as he realizes the time. "—Well, middle-aged, but that don't gotta stop the fun."

I can't contain a faint chuckle at his dumb joke, rolling my eyes as I do so. The next thing I know, my feet are subconsciously coming to a stop, and he gently lays on the brakes. His car is also stopping right beside where I now stand, but the engine still purrs softly to alert all of its consciousness.

"Ah, c'mon, girl. Let's live a little, eh?" He flashes me that dangerous half-smirk that beckons me forward into mischief. It now dawns on me that he might not have the intention of taking me home, which is intriguing in a way.

I contemplate my options for a moment. The only thing waiting for me at home is a couple bottles of beer and some cold pizza left in the fridge from the night prior. It seems like I've been spending most of my time alone lately. Maybe it would be good to spend some time in good company.

"Alright," I give in with a subtle but still noticeable sigh, backing down in my mental debate.

He reaches across and opens the passenger door for me as I round the car, its headlights illuminating me for a brief moment as I cross in front of the bumper before hoping into the seat offered to me. It felt weird being in the left seat and not having a steering wheel before me. I could never get used to those foreign imported cars. 

But regardless, it sure is a beauty. The leather interior smells oddly fresh and calming, with a faint hint of exhaust filtering through the open windows. It's clear he just cleaned her up. Brian was always the type to take care of his rides.

I pull the seatbelt across my chest and lock it in securely, mentally preparing myself for the wild ride I know damn well he is about to take me on. He looks at me and flashes me that cocky yet proud smile as he revvs the engine for only a moment before taking off into the night.

With windows down and speed carrying us, I feel like I'm floating on air. The soft breeze I felt only moments ago is now a fast wind in my hair, and the soft ambiance of the nightlife in Miami is now disturbed by a machine growl.

I glance over at him, and it's as if time slows for just a minute as I take in how happy he is. He's a simple man. He doesn't need the fancy things in life, just a fast car to make the corners of his lips part into that iconic grin I have grown to love.

"Wanna get fuckin' nuts?" He asks me, his voice taking me out of my thoughts and putting me back into reality. That's when I notice that mischievous look in his ocean blue eyes, their pupils blown wide with adrenaline.

Hm... Blue and full of adrenaline, like the blood pumping in our veins.

"What?" I blurt out, not fully comprehending what he is asking, until my gaze wanders down to where his thumbs hovers over the nitro buttons.

I look at the road ahead, seeing that it is completely barren of all life, and I can't help but smirk at the thought of what he is suggesting. It's a dangerous game—playing with speed in such a way—but a thrilling one, for sure.

Taking my eyes off the road ahead to look back at him, I notice the hopeful glint once again in his eyes, only pushing my thought process toward wanting to comply. So without a second breath, I cheer, "Fuck yeah!"

With a simple click of two buttons at once, we are off like a rocket in space. Suddenly, the street lights look like comets, and the lines on the road are just blurs of colors. It's oddly beautiful in a way, and I marvel at how it ignites my soul with such a unique feeling, which I can't possibly seek from anything else. My fingers dig into the sides of my seat as my heart pounds against my ribcage like thunder, both overwhelmed but thirsty for more of this intoxicating rush.

Though Brian only lets this last for a moment, just seconds passed that will remain with me for an eternity. We laugh as the car slows to a semi-normal speed again. My smile is so wide, I can feel my face begin to hurt.

But I don't care. I am just so high on the thrill that my mind is lost in a cloudy space of euphoria. It's crazy how the night went from a quiet walk home to taking a joy ride with one of my rivals, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Once our laughter dies down, the soft purr of the engine is the only thing heard yet again as we both seemingly get lost in our own thoughts. What is he thinking? I wish I knew. The only thing on my mind is how happy I am. It isn't until a couple minutes later that he speaks his mind, taking a deep breath before his lips finally form the words he has been pondering.

"We should do this more often," he suggests in that nonchalant tone he carries quite regularly for someone with such excitement in his life. "Y'know, hang out outside the racing world? You're a cool girl."

I can't repress how my smile softens for a moment at his words as my eyes flick over in his direction while a million responses filter through my mind. This guy is a legend—a local celebrity, if you will. To have this opportunity is an honor. However, I don't necessarily get the vibe of entitlement from him. Instead, his atmosphere reflects something else—something friendly and inviting.

"And you're a cool guy. I'd love to hang with you more often." I reply, trying to sound chill but coming off way more sincere than intended. Though he doesn't seem to mind, in fact, he seems to be pleased with my response.

The next thing I know, he is pulling into a public beach. Its sands are abandoned by any human life due to the lateness of time, though the footprints of the visitors that day still remain like ghosts of the past, their memories carved in the sand until they get washed away by the waves.

He locks the car in park, unhooks his seatbelt, and gets out. I watch through the windshield as he rounds the side of it to rest back on the hood. My eyes study him as he lifts himself to sit on the hood, not once looking back to see if I leave the car as well. It's almost as if he expects me to.

So to fulfill his silent expectations, I swing my door open and hop out after freeing myself from my seatbelt, nearly stumbling as the ground is unexpectedly unsteady where I stand. My feet sink into the sand, and I'm grateful I chose to wear boots tonight over anything else.

Once out of my sticky situation, I take a moment to appreciate the freshness in the air—the sweet smell of the ocean before me for just a second. After approaching him, I rest beside him on the hood, watching the waves crash before us. It reminds me that life is quite like the sea. It's unpredictable, a little scary at times, but beautiful in many unique ways. I release a soft breath, my body relaxing in this calming moment.

"I remember the first time I saw you pull up in that black Trans Am to the race. Fuckin' engine and bass on your stereo roaring over the sound of the crowd." He chuckles while he reminisces about old memories.

"Buni," I correct him as I smile fondly, thinking about the beauty that's currently under a tarp in my garage, just waiting to be repaired and set free on the road once again.

"Yeah, Buni." He parrots me in an almost teasing way. I know he finds the fact that I named my car ridiculous, but I can see it in his eyes that it amuses him all the same. "You're something else, (L/N). A damn good racer, though."

My heart flutters at the compliment, and I feel my cheeks heat up with this familiar warmth that only he ignites in me best. The soft breeze blows through my hair as I think of a reply, running through my strains like an angel's fingertips. But it's not the breeze nor the location that has me in such a calm and joyful state.

I continue to study him—the way his blonde curls blow in the breeze, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly to show his contentment, his biceps flexing ever so slightly as he crosses his arms over his chest. It amazes me how all the different shades of blue in his iris reflect the scene before us. It's like I could literally drown in them each time I gaze into them to admire their beauty.

"Yeah? You and your Skyline ain't so bad either." I finally quip with a small bit of sarcasm dripping from my tone after forcing myself out of where my mind has disappeared to for a short time. He smiles softly at my words, because it's evident how I really feel about him. He knows, and I know that, but I don't really care anymore.

We talk until sunrise and watch as the black sky fades into orange and pink, blending with the stars to make them barely visible. Though they are out of sight, I know they still shine brightly above us, like angels waiting for us in heaven. It's quite special—maybe even magical.

The sea reflects the morning sun as it rises from the horizon, its golden rays shining upon us as we remain on the hood of the car. It's just us out here in our own little world. If I learned anything from last night, it's not the place that makes a moment special, but the person you share it with.

I don't know where this road will take us. I know it will be a long one—with plenty of traffic and bumps ahead—but the ride will be an enjoyable one with a new friend in the seat next to me as we speed through it all. And if we happen to get separated some point along the way, I know in my heart that I'll see him again.

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

[wildernessuntothemselves]

beomgyu as a puppy hybrid who’s eager to have you really orgasm because he’s well aware of the many times you fake it with your boyfriend

Warnings: puppy hybrid gyu (duh), cheating, dubcon, breeding kink (you know the drill), gyu calling oc master, switch gyu and oc, yanderish towards the end. This was much longer than I planned :'D

You try to latch onto the sensation your own hand is providing, try focus on the spots that give you the most pleasure as your mind flits through the faces of this celebrity or that in the hopes of finding one that will really get you going. You certainly aren't going to think about your own boyfriend who for the umpteenth time has left you alone and unsatisfied after he got his dick wet and achieved his own orgasm.

But despite all your effort, or maybe because of how much you're forcing it, you're not even close to the edge. You could almost cry... no, you could actually cry from all the frustration building up inside you. Why was your boyfriend so useless? And why the fuck are you still tolerating him if he can't even satisfy you in bed?

A muffled whine breaks you from your pathetic reflection and you hear Beomgyu--your dog hybrid--scratch at the door once again, begging you to let him in.

Beomgyu loves sleeping beside you on the bed. He wasn't allowed to at first--in fact, he still isn't, but every night he'd just stand at your door, whimpering and crying until you let him in. You know you shouldn't let him manipulate you like that. You're the owner and you need to set boundaries. God knows you let the brat get away with whatever bad behaviour he exhibits the moment he flashes you his big, wet, brown eyes. But you just can't help it. He's just so adorable. You can never say no to him.

Your boyfriend certainly doesn't appreciate the idea of a "grown man sleeping in my girlfriend's bed" despite how many times you've told him that Gyu is just your pup. But frankly right now, you couldn't give a fuck about what he thinks. You could use some cuddling after the disaster that you'd just endured.

As if Beomgyu can hear your resolve breathing, he lets out another heart-wrenching whimper and you groan, ripping your hand away from your poor abused pussy and get off the bed, walking towards the door and opening it for the entitled pup.

"Go to bed. I'll wash up and join you." You tell him before he can open his mouth then march towards the bathroom to take a quick shower.

When you go back to your room, you expect Beomgyu to be fast asleep and taking up the whole bed like he usually does, but to your surprise, he was just sitting there, alert and waiting for you like an obedient puppy.

It throws you off. This was so unlike the brat, but you don't dwell on it for long, too exhausted to question his behavior that most of the times doesn't make sense anyways.

Getting under the covers, you throw your arm out for him to nuzzle into your side. When he does, you wrap it around him and use the other hand to pet his head, ready to drift off into a cozy sleep.

But as you're drifting off, you feel the all too-familiar wet sensation of Beomgyu licking your hand. You usually don't mind it much--he is part dog after all--but it's very annoying when you're trying to sleep.

"Beomgyu, Stop it." You warn, an edge to your tone, but of course the brat pays you no mind. Grumbling, you go to pull your hand away from him but to your surprise, he grabs it by the wrist and proceeds to take two of your fingers into his mouth.

Throwing your eyes open, you stare at the dog in shock--a shock that transforms to horror when you realize just what is happening. This is the hand you were just using to masturbate. Apparently the shower wasn't enough to wash the smell away from Beomgyu's sensitive nose. He has his lips wrapped around the fingers that were inside you minutes ago, his tongue licking them up as if he can still taste you on them as he stares at you with hooded eyes and a look you've never seen from your pup... or rather didn't want to acknowledge before.

Now that you think about it, you've seen that look when you'd wear something revealing around him or when you'd pet him on that spot he liked on his lower tummy or during that one week every month when you're ovulating...

There was no denying it now. That look was pure lust. And you fucking hate how that look was enough to ignite the desire you'd just forcefully quenched.

No, no, this is wrong. He's your pet. Your literal puppy.

But it's hard to focus on that when he removes your fingers from his mouth, string of his saliva still attached to it before he attacks your mouth.

"Beomie--no--" You shriek, but that only allows him to stick his tongue down your throat as one of his hands moves between your legs and slips into your shorts, finding your embarrassingly wet pussy.

"Let me make you feel good." He pleads, long fingers fervently rubbing your slick into your pussy. "I know he doesn't. I hear you touching yourself every time he leaves. I can help."

Fuck.

"Beomgyu... I can't. It's wrong." You croak, even as you feel yourself unconsciously spreading your legs to give him easier access to your pussy, your whole fluttering when his fingers pass over it.

"No one has to know, just please. I know you didn't cum. I heard everything." He begs, hitting you with his big innocent brown eyes again as if he wasn't asking to get you off. "Please."

Fuck. You're going to hell for this.

You squeeze your eyes shut and mumble. "Fine."

Before you have the chance to second guess your stupid, lust-ridden decision, you're on your back, thighs pressed to your chest and shorts and underwear flung across the room.

"Beomgyu, fuck!" You moan out, one hand grabbing the sheets for dear life while the other tangles itself into his hair as he eats you out unabashedly, his face quite literally buried in your pussy as he eagerly licks and sucks as if it's his last meal.

You've never had a man eat you out like this before. They're usually iffy about it, approaching it like it's a chore they had to be done with before getting their reward. But for Beomgyu, this feels like his reward. He's moaning out as if he's getting off just from this, and by the way his hips are rutting against the bed, he most likely is.

He's so good, and you're so wound up, that it doesn't take long to push you over the edge. A white hot pleasure surges through your body as Beomgyu flattens his tongue out and licks up all your cum, his tail thumping against the bed happily.

The orgasm leaves you in a golden bliss, and you're quite happy to go to bed finally satiated for once, but it seems like this isn't enough for Beomgyu, for he pushes your closing legs open once again and goes back to sucking on your clit.

"Beomie, no. You got what you wanted." You protest weakly, as if your legs aren't shaking with your building second orgasm. But Beomgyu pays you no mind, laser-focused on getting you off again, and who are you to argue?

The second orgasm is even faster than the first one. Beomgyu is a fast learner, it seems, when he puts his mind to it, and eating you out is apparently a newfound passion of his because even after he brings you to your second orgasm, he still keeps going.

This time, you don't let him though. You can't. The overstimulation was getting to you so you use the grip you have on his hair to pull him up. "You're hurting me, you dumb pup."

At that, he relents, letting you pull him up and falling heavily over you. Only then do you realize your mistake when you feel his hot, bare cock rutting against your pussy.

The little shit had pulled his pants down and was now having the time of his life getting an inadvertent pussyjob from you.

"Beomgyu, no! Get off." You reprimand and he whines, putting his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

"Please let me put it in. I need it."

"This isn't what we agreed on. I thought you just wanted to help me."

"I did. But now it really hurts." He pouts, jerking his hips against you for emphasis. "Didn't I do a good job? Doesn't puppy deserve a reward?"

"You little shit--" You gasp when the head of his cock catches on your entrance and almost goes in. You have to admit, you wish it did, and with that you realize that you want him too. You want to fuck your puppy. Yeah, you're definitely going to hell.

"Fine." You say for the second time tonight, and like the last time, Beomgyu doesn't give you time to change your mind, quickly grabbing his cock and putting it at your entrance before easing in.

"Oh, god--" You both cry out. He's bigger than you expected and he fills you up to the point that you almost can't breathe. But the little shit doesn't give you time to get used to his size for he immediately starts rutting against you, mouth open dumbly and gives growing hazy.

You smirk through the pain. "What is it, pup? My pussy got you all dumb?"

"Uh-huh." He moans, eyes focusing a little bit at the sound of your voice. "Wanted it since I first saw you."

"What a naughty pup." You tsk, feeling yourself starting to relax around him, too turned on by how you're affecting him. "Here I was thinking you're such a cute little pup when all you're thinking about is pounding my pussy."

"I'm sorry." He groans, not sounding sorry at all as he digs his fingers into your thighs and slams his hips against yours. "Sorry master."

You pussy clenches at that name and Beomgyu doesn't fail to notice it. He cocks his head to the side and slams his hips against you harder. "Bad puppy just wants to breed his master."

You gasp, "Beomgyu!"

"Want you all round with my baby so that bastard knows to stay away from what's mine." He growls, worrying you with his alarming words but you can't focus on it long because somehow his cock feels bigger and bigger until you think your pussy is going to burst.

"Beomgyu, what is going on?" You squeak trying to look down to where your bodies met.

"It's my knot, master. Gotta make sure I breed my mate good."

Oh fuck, maybe your boyfriend was onto something about Beomgyu after all.

[alargehunkofdebris]

the necessary anguish of the Good Omens 2 finale

Ah ok. So after 4 years of waiting post Season One and ten cumulative years of bookish fannery, I watched bonified New Content of Good Omens. And when those credits rolled, I sat there, not in my expected state of pleasant satisfaction, but in a state of abject shock.

I actually don’t know if I’ve ever had such a reaction to a show before. Or, rather, that I could still have such a reaction. I’m thirty, for goodness sakes – I was planning on being thrilled and charmed and entertained, not having my hands shake so much that it was hard to type a text. I wasn’t planning on losing an entire night of sleep because my heart wouldn’t stop pounding really hard, Neil. This was not expected. I had an estate sale to run the next day – by God, I needed that sleep.

 Anyway. These are my thoughts on the season, and on this upswell of mourning/unhappiness at such a gut-wrenching ending. As always, this are my dumb opinions and nothing more; take with a grain of salt, etc. 

I have seen a lot of suffering on Tumblr today. Everyone is in pain, and it makes sense. I, too, am in pain. But I might be in the minority, because I thanked God/Mr. Gaiman when things turned to pure pain in the end. Because narratively, despite the anguish we all feel, this is how it needs to be. And I was getting real worried there for a second.

When we have a mini-series (ie, a show with a set number of seasons) it can’t act the same as a series without a set end. We’ve got three potential seasons; therefore, they logically should behave like a three-act play, or the three acts in the standard Western movie/book plot. This middle season is the middle act, the second act. While it definitely doesn’t work exactly the same way, and needs its own story arc to work as a season, it is still functionally the middle part of one overarching plot.

And what usually happens near the end of the second act? All Is Lost, and the Dark Night of the Soul.

We NEED this to happen. This is what makes a plot delicious. If we’d had this perfect, lovely, romantic season where the stakes aren’t raised one bit and everything is fixed at the end, we would want for nothing and the gorgeous tension that keeps us waiting and watching would be lost. We wouldn’t feel that drive to create fanfics and fanart, we wouldn’t have the need to speculate or dream, because most of the tension was eased, and you just can’t have that if you want a highly anticipated third season. We’d have nothing huge and concrete to look forward to.

In fact, I was getting really worried once the Ineffable Bureaucracy started happening on screen, because I could see (I thought) past that bend in the road toward the end. I could see how this season might conclude, with big happy confessions of love and hugs and handholding (that’s all I expected, because I only expected the same chaste level of affection with both angelic/demonic couples) and then…then it’d all be over. What more could there be? I mean, there certainly could be more, but THIS is the main thing people waited for. The Happy Confession. The hug. The handholding. Whatever we got. And in my mind, having it now, at the end of season two, just wasn’t adding up – it did not fit. It couldn’t. No, we can’t have this now. It doesn’t work.

I get this peculiar thing that happens when things start getting too “everything is great!” in a story. I get the “someone needs to die” instinct. Instead of pure happiness that things are going great, there’s this feeling of intense discomfort, because I feel the weight of the shoe that’s failing to drop. I need it to drop, or else it throws off my entire standard-Western-narrative-trained brain’s balance. In the build up to The Scene, when things seem to be going swimmingly and heading directly towards the happiest and syrupiest of endings, I had to pause and pace my living room and roll around on the floor to alleviate the sheer build up of stress. Things can’t go this well. They can’t. There hasn’t been enough bad things, this is too sweet, too much. Can’t handle it. This can’t just be pure wish-fulfillment at this point; Good Omens shouldn’t work that way, it never has. We’d be happy in the moment, but then it’ll ultimately be a let down. No more danger. Nothing keeping them apart. No more tension, no more story. It was all too easy.

And then, finally, that shoe dropped. After a season of mainly getting along and being just thrilled with each other, they began to really argue. Things got horrific and serious, and I literally let out a breath of relief. I was able to watch without pausing every two minutes for a breather. Ok. Things weren’t over. This wasn’t the end. We had more to wait for.

And then it went on. The confession started, but in that gorgeously wrong way. And for the first time that season, I was actually feeling the stress of the story. Yes, there was danger throughout this season, but it was always layered with humour and wit. You didn’t get a demon scene without them doing something hilariously stupid. You didn’t get an angel scene without them being delightfully out-of-touch. The stakes were high, but they weren’t allowed to get EXTREMELY high. We never thought there was any question of them getting out of scrapes unscathed, because it was never all serious.

Never…until now. There was zero humour at this point. After 6 episodes of being pleasantly delighted, I was feeling the dread. However, I still thought I knew where it was going.  

See, I thought I had it figured out. If I had any extra money, I would have bet some of it. I knew that, whilst they’d likely have some kind of subtle confession of love and caring, and perhaps a touch – a hug, or a hand-hold (like Gabe and Beez) – I knew we couldn’t expect a kiss. This is a story thirty-three years in the making, and it’s always been in that grey area. They weren’t humans; they didn’t necessarily show affection that way. Besides that, we’ve had so many TV shows that get close, but rarely ones that go all the way to smoochville. OFMD was one of the very first, but it was new. It wasn’t an old, established story from the 90s like this is. It didn’t have decades-old fans waiting with bated breath for canon content. For Good Omens, we heard it time and time again in interviews; it’s a kind of love story. They had this kind of marriage. They cared for each other. They had a bromance. It’s close, but never quite there. So I thought I knew exactly how this would go, and would be thrilled with what we got. 

And then it absolutely didn’t go that way. It went exactly as far as so many hoped. And it went there like a knife to the gut.

And it was perfect.

Goddamn, what a season ending. Despite my lack of appetite and failure to sleep, I could not be happier with what Mr. Gaiman did. I am screaming crying throwing up and I’m thrilled about it.

The middle of a story is typically what drags; it never holds the highest stakes. Lord knows what we’re going to get in season three (knocking on wood), but I can only expect it to get bigger and heavier. And by God and/or Satan, am I prepared, in this deliciously painful purgatory, to wait and see.  

[rivalsforlife]

pardon me if you’re tired of discussing this but. we know aa7 is on capcom’s radar on some level. and now they’ve rereleased every game right?? they’ve finally run out of backlog material after almost yearly releases since 2019…. Not to put the clown wig and nose back on too early but do you think we’ll actually get news about, or get to see, aa7 next year?

Never tired of discussing this!! This is right around the time of year where I'd be preparing to make my yearly AA7 Speculation Post anyway so this is great timing. (TGS, my enemy, is approaching.)

So just to make sure everyone's on the same page, here's a quick recap of where we're currently at:

In November 2020 we got internal Capcom leaks which included a calendar from 2019 with the roadmap for the AA series the next couple of years. This included:

DGS1&2 collection, which I did not think was going to happen ever, releasing April-June 2021

AA7, releasing around October-December 2021, right around the 20th anniversary.

Through late 2019-mid 2022, reconsider porting 456

We got DGS1&2 (a bit later than in the plan, but by like a month), we got the 456 ports, we got bonus AAI ports, we have nothing for AA7 nearly three years after it was supposed to come out. The pandemic is an obvious feature that could contribute to its delay, but at this point with 456 ports out I think we can safely say that this was not the only cause.

Some other things that may or may not be contributing to AA7's delay include:

Yamazaki, the previous main writer for 5&6 and the AAIs, left Capcom in 2020. If he was involved in AA7 at all, that could throw a wrench into things, but I recall hearing he intended AA6 to be his last AA game (I AM STRUGGLING TO FIND THE SOURCE THOUGH SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME), so I don't think this contributed very much. It does, however, mean that we're unsure about who the next main writer is - depending on what Takumi's up to or if they had to bring someone new on, there could be complications related to that.

I think TGAA did way better than anyone expected, which I covered in this post. It's possible that this could have shifted Capcom's priorities to porting more old games / porting to all modern consoles. It may have made people at Capcom think "damn everyone loves Takumi" so they tried to lure him back to AA7, and I have no idea how well that would have gone or if Takumi is even interested in continuing mainline AA right now. (I do think this at least contributed to the Ghost Trick ports.)

In my first ever AA7 speculation post I talked about how the ending of AA6 kind of wrote them into a corner re: how to continue with the series and which protagonist to use. I still stand by that argument even if a lot of that post aged badly.

Console ports! Previously new AA games were for whichever Nintendo handheld is out now (GBA, Nintendo DS, Nintendo 3DS). But now that the series is doing really well on all consoles, they may have decided to try to make their next mainline entry on all consoles, which would take more development time. Adding to this is that the Switch is near the end of its lifecycle with the Switch 2 (or whatever the successor will be) being announced soon - meaning that, if AA7 is coming out soon, Capcom is in the position of "do we try to squeeze this into the end of the Switch's lifecycle" (which, I'll need to find sources for this, is speculated to be some of the reasons behind why AAI2 and DGS2 sold badly when they were first released, and they can't make the same mistake thrice... right...?) or "do we try to time it with the release of the Switch 2"?

Also, a lot of this depends on how far AA7 was into development whenever it was derailed. If it was derailed from the pandemic, then according to the calendar, it would likely have still been in the prototype stage. It may be early enough that they would have had to start from scratch whenever they picked it up again. I don't work in the gaming industry so I have no idea how long it takes them to make a game or how easy it would be from what stage they're in.

One thing we can compare to is some of the comments about the recent AAI ports: in this interview, Shunsuke Nishida, the producer of the AAI collection, says that development on the collection began in 2022. He also mentions that this began once development on 456 was concluded. This leads me to believe that (contrary to my previous assumptions) 456 and AAIC were not developed concurrently (or if so, had very minimal overlap), and that the process of upscaling graphics, porting, and localization took them... about a year, maybe? So that takes time, even without taking into consideration how long it would take to come up with a new idea + write the script + the bulk of the programming that would have to be done that isn't considered with porting + probably way more than I can think of because again I do not work in the gaming industry.

There's also the question of why 456 and AAIC weren't developed concurrently. The calendar from 2020 shows that TGAA and AA7 were meant to be developed at least somewhat concurrently, and the staff from TGAA would eventually merge into working on AA7. Once again, we don't know what happened to the staff that were supposed to be working on AA7. It's possible pandemic complications meant they got shuffled onto other projects. It's possible the AA-related team is smaller now than it was in 2020, so they only have enough people to work on one project at a time. It's also possible that there's a team that was working on ports, and a team that was working on a new game, and now the "port team" is freed up to work on the "new game team".

Either way though, pretty much every interview with the staff for the 456 or AAI ports are all saying "look forward to the future of the series", which is definitely Corporate Speak, but unless they're bringing the ports of the Layton crossover (fingers crossed) that can only mean one thing. (AAI anime?) Plus, like I've discussed in this post, AA is having fantastic sales in general. They've seemingly either hired a new social media manager or changed the strategy so there is much more engagement on twitter. And AA is getting on bigger and bigger announcements - though AA trilogy ports were announced at TGS (at an AA-specific panel), TGAA duology ports were announced unceremoniously on twitter. Afterwards, 456 ports got announced at the Capcom Showcase during Summer Game Fest. And now AAI collection got announced at a Nintendo Direct, which I imagine is even more expensive, so the series must be going in a good direction for them to think that's worth it!

That's a lot of rambling for me to say I definitely think it's coming.

When are we going to see it though!!

Coming up in September is my eternal enemy Tokyo Game Show. Since AAI collection is being released at the beginning of September... it might be a bit too soon to announce a new game, but who knows. They might think it's profitable to ride the hype they're building now for AAI collection to announce a new game. Or they might let it sit for a while.

With AAIC getting announced at a Direct, I'm thinking they'll want to make AA7's announcement a) big and b) global. AA6 was announced in Famitsu, but the problem with that is that it's a mostly Japanese audience, and some interviews have been talking about how AA's global audience is particularly contributing to how big it is right now. So I'm expecting AA's next announcement to be at something major and something that will get attention from overseas audiences.

If they have been working on AA7 concurrently -- and honestly I do think there has at least been some progress on it since 2019 -- we could definitely see an announcement within the next year. I was also saying this in 2020, though, so don't take my word for it. There's been two year gaps between ports up until the AAI collection, and they seemed pretty proud about releasing 456 and AAI in the same year, so... maybe they'll want to keep it going and announce AA7 within the next year, especially if they'll have a longer announcement -> release period than they normally would for ports.

Potential candidates include:

Tokyo Game Show: As previously stated, it's very close to the AAIC release, so I don't think it's the best timing for it. I would not want my favorite AA game overshadowed by whatever the hell they're going to do with AA7. Likelihood: depends on how fast they want to follow up on the hype.

The Game Awards: is the next major gaming event, but that's already massive in terms of the type of games that get announced there, and it's expensive! Nintendo Direct is one thing since AA has always been a Nintendo-first series, but I don't think it's big enough to justify putting in a Game Awards ad. and I already have my clown wig on for persona 6 there. Likelihood: pretty low tbh

Next Year's Summer Game Fest-related Shows: I think this is the most likely, considering both the 456 collection and the AAI collection were announced around this time. For AA7 I'd say a Nintendo Direct to get lots of eyes on it, especially if AAIC sales pay off. Likelihood: pretty high!

Which leads me into my wildcard answer:

Switch 2 Announcement Stream: If Capcom decides to go in and make AA7 one of the first games for whatever the switch successor would be, it could be announced here. I regret to admit that I am a very bad gamer and only like two things, and therefore have not ever been present for one of these things to know how many games get announced as launch games for a new console, but, like, it's possible.

In the above scenario, I'm not necessarily saying that AA7 would be a Switch 2 exclusive - because I think that would be stupid after so much of the support they've gotten from the ports has been from playstation and steam - but I am definitely the kind of person who would buy a console for one video game. Shoutout to me buying a switch in part anticipating that aa7 would come out on it and that is not looking likely

Anyways, that's my speculation!! Reminder that this is mostly uninformed and that I have no knowledge of anything related to sales or marketing or video game development, and as a result of that, I have been wrong (aside from the one time I accurately predicted AAI ports as a joke) for four consecutive years.

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎStar Girl (Part Three)⋆౨ৎ

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖masterlist⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ [fem reader] contains: kidnapping, blood, angst pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: troubles throw a wrench in yours and billy's plans author’s note: tagging @phantomamor because <3 babes you really helped me with this last part and with this entire au <3 thank you all for being so lovely and supportive of this series! my apologies for the wait on this last part <3 enjoy! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The fascination anybody felt with you was everlasting, bound to stretch the eternities just like you.

Billy could feel it now as you spoke to the vendor before you, the diamond he'd so dangerously retrieved in your hands. The man had given him a decent price, but you'd stepped in, starting to speak to him in a language Billy only knew bits and pieces of. Your tone was firm, but still with a tint of sweetness to it. You were still you after all.

The second you'd begun to speak, he'd stepped aside, unsure exactly what you were doing but trusting you anyways. The vendor looked a little taken aback, but he finally nodded, saying something begrudgingly. You smiled and turned to Billy. "He's gonna give you eighty instead."

His eyebrows shot up, lips parting. "Eighty?" That was twice the original price, three times what he'd expected to get.

You stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "You worked so hard to get the diamond, you risked your life. The least you could get is more money for it."

Billy laughed a little in disbelief, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're a wonder darlin', honest."

While waiting for Billy's reward to be counted out, you leaned back into his chest, his arms around your collarbone. He'd been hesitant about taking you outside the ship given the status of you with his gang, but figured this was an early enough time of day that it wouldn't do any harm.

You were no longer wearing one of his shirts- the first thing he'd done upon landing was go find a kiosk selling dresses and fetch one for you. He had to admit that he missed seeing you in one of his button downs, but you were ethereal in the blue, flowy thing he'd picked out, as radiant here as you would have been wearing a ball gown. Just peeking out the slit of the dress when he looked down, there was pretty garter hugging your thigh, the point of a glass dagger restrained by it.

Billy had presented it to you just before leaving today, and the excitement in your eyes was a lovely thing to behold. He'd smiled as you tucked it under your dress, telling you it was "Just a precaution, angel." He wasn't going to have his girl walking the streets unarmed, even though he wouldn't be letting you out of his sight for a second.

He was glad he'd brought you out- the way you were looking around so excitedly was worth it alone. The way you bounced excitedly on your heels and squeezed his wrist whenever you saw something you liked was ecstasy. There weren't enough words in any language to emphasize how much he loved you.

Indeed it had been a time for firsts.

Before last week you had never kissed before, had someone to lie down with. These were beautiful things he got to teach you about.

He didn't consider having to teach you about bad things too.

One night you'd sprung upright in bed, clutching your chest and gasping, eyes blown wide for someone who'd been asleep a few seconds ago. Always a light sleeper, Billy had woken with you, seen your distress and pulled you into him. He wrapped his arms around you like wings and held you tight into him. "Shh. Baby, you're okay. You're safe, you're okay."

"I was having...a...dream," you hiccupped, fisting his shirt. "And then...it...turned...bad."

"Slow down, sweetheart. Deep breaths." Billy rubbed your back, breathing deep in and out so you would do it too. "You're gonna work yourself up." He kissed your hair, scratching your side gently.

You slowly but surely began to calm down, holding his wrist in your hand. Billy rocked you back and forth, watching the storm within you quell. "Shhh, sweet girl. It's okay."

When your breathing was steady again, you looked up at him with wide eyes, and he knew what you were asking. "'S a nightmare," he whispered, barely disturbing the quiet of the ship. "Like a dream, but scary."

Brow knitting, you cuddled back into his chest. "I've never had one before. It felt real."

"'F course it did, sweetheart," he murmured, carefully lying back down with you. Billy lifted the hem of his shirt, maneuvering it around you until it was off, tossing it away. You pressed your cheek to his chest, the sensation of his skin on yours untensing your muscles. He slid his hand under the shirt of his you were wearing, settling a warm palm on your lower back. "D'you wanna tell me what it was about?"

You were quiet for a moment. "You. You were gone." The confession shredded his heart in two, and he buried his nose in your gold-streaked hair.

His stomach dropped. Truthfully, when he'd imagined what scenarios would play out in your subconscious, he'd imagined something like your kidnapping, what the Seven Rivers had done to you. He didn't even stop to think you might be worried for him.

"'M right here, baby." Billy reached down to your waist, pulling you to rest between his legs with your head on his chest. You let out a little sigh, shifting to get comfortable. He was content that he had been able to calm down. But it terrified him that he couldn't protect you from everything.

Reaching up now, you touched his arms, thumbs rubbing him there. He kissed your temple. Ever since the day he'd been injured, you'd been clinging to him like he was the last thing in the world, trying out what he'd taught you. Your lips had touched every bit of his face and then some, every kiss setting his heart blazing. He loved that you wanted to have him near like this.

As he looked at you now, light as the air and happy as always, just watching the surrounding crowd, there was such an air of innocence about you.

You were glowing in the light of day, a goddess in your own right. Billy couldn't help staring- it didn't matter how many times he woke up next to you or even looked at you. He would always be enchanted by every little detail you exuded. The best of the universe gathered together in your shape.

Turning in his arms, you kissed him lightly, smiling adorably afterward. Billy's own smile was sparked by yours, and he lifted you up by the waist, letting you stand on his boots so you could reach. "Hi angel," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. In the sunlight you shimmered like glitter, and he swore whenever you walked a trail of magic followed like fairy dust.

When the vendor passed him his money, Billy shoved it in his pocket, turning his attention back to you. You clung to his arm, squeezing him there and smiling adoringly up at him. "Everything okay?"

"Perfect." He took your hand, unable to stop touching you for more than a few minutes. "C'mon sweetheart. I owe you some cuddles."

You bounced on your heels, a spark lighting in your eyes. Billy was about to lead you away, wishing the walk was faster. He could practically feel the mattress under his back already, his hand maybe sliding up your skirt-

There was a shout from nearby, and he froze mid-step, startled by it. You squeezed his hand, and he pushed you a little behind him, protective instincts flaring like a fire.

A crowd was forming a little bit away, and you stood on tiptoes, trying to see what was going on. He smiled. His curious girl.

"Let's see what all the fuss is about," he said, rubbing your fingers and letting you lead him over to the crowd. When you were still craning your neck, he slid his arms around you, lifting you up to his eye level. A smile bloomed over your face at the motion, and he pecked your cheek, turning to the scene finally.

What he saw made his veins freeze like ice.

A woman restrained, her hair golden and loose, struggling against the surely rough hands of an officer wearing the official patch of the IJF. He was shouting, but the brazen remarks fell blurry on Billy's ears.

There was a man standing a few feet away, his yelling adding to the chaotic swirl. He was holding his arm, a gash dripping crimson onto the cobblestone. "She stabbed me. Did you see? She stabbed me-"

"My blood isn't yours to take," she snarled, shiny freckles catching the light as she whipped her head to look at him.

"Both of you shut it," the officer barked, restraining the woman in handcuffs. Now her chest was heaving, and he could see the fear in her eyes. It reminded him of-

Turning to you, he saw your round eyes and stiff limbs. You slowly lifted your gaze to his, a wild desperation in it. That was a woman just like you, another person of the stars, the same blood running through her veins. She was practically a sister. He could knew what you wanted to do before you moved.

Billy's arms tightened around you, and he swung one down to lift your knees, anticipating your next actions. "Let's go."

You struggled, looking over his shoulder as he began to walk away, boots clunking rudely. Tugging on his shirt, body twisting in his arms, your breathing sped up, voice nearly tearful. "We have to go...we have to help her-" Billy shook his head once, and your fist pounded his chest. "Billy. Billy put me down-" your voice was as serious as death, and you sounded mad.

"You can't do anything for her now...honey..." He patiently held firm to you, sucking in a breath when you tried to undo his hand from your waist, nearly making him drop you. "Don't do that, sweetie."

There was a tear on each of your cheeks like sunspots, and his heart broke. Your breath hitched and you began to cry, taking his face in your hands and trying to turn it back toward the scene. "Take me back...please..." Every syllable was broken, like a crumbling bridge.

Painstakingly, he ignored your words, not pausing once in the journey back to the ship. Having been involved in a crowd often targeted by the law, he knew if not anything that in the heat of the moment, two people in the same group would be seen as one. He wouldn't risk the officer seeing you and finding some reason to take you away too, especially if you tried to help the other star-woman he was detaining.

No matter how right you were to try.

Billy only put you down when he was in the ship, shutting the door quickly. But at that point, the fight had been taken out of you, and you stood in front of him, eyes trained on the ground ashamedly.

He moved cautiously to you, reaching out to grasp your hands. You still wouldn't look at him. Taking in a breath, Billy was about to say something comforting maybe, when you rushed forward, burying your face in his chest.

Warm tears bled into his shirt, and he secured an arm around you, pressing the other to your head. There was no need to say anything.

In all his years collecting bounties, he'd never held anything near as precious. For all the places he'd travelled, his eyes had never taken in anything as beautiful. You were the reason the word treasure was invented.

And he was no fool. He knew what he had and he knew to keep you safe.

You made his lap look like a throne.

Sitting with your legs on either side of his on the mattress, skirt pulled up your thighs, kissing him slowly, he could have mistaken you for a deity. Your hips were rocking slightly back and forth into his, as if you weren't aware of it. One of his hands was tangled in your soft hair, the other on your thigh, rubbing up and down. You liked those little comforts during kisses, he'd learned, and it only made him love you more.

He kissed your nose, pulling back for a moment. Wrapping his arms fully around your waist, Billy rolled you over, making you laugh as he held himself up above you, dipping his neck to kiss your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your nose again, just because you were so cute.

Neither of you had spoken about the day in the market since, although it had shaken you, he could see. Knowing you didn't want to bring it up, he showed you he cared instead, giving you extra loving day and night.

Both of your arms was flung above your head atop your hair, which was spread out like a halo. Billy gave you a fond look, kissing your collarbone and letting his chin nestle between your breasts. The dress you were wearing was cut deep in the neck, and so he had plenty of access to your skin.

You hummed, your chest vibrating under his chin. "Billy?"

He kissed your tummy. "Yes, angel?"

That got a little smile out of you, and you slid a hand into his hair, scratching his scalp gently. "Don't you have to be to the other ship in twenty minutes?"

"Ah-" Billy kissed your tummy again with a smack, sliding his arms under your waist and rolling you over, making you dissolve into giggles. "But that's in twenty minutes." Your hair fell on either side of his face like a curtain, and he stroked your cheek, nudging your face closer to his. "So gimme some more kisses, darlin'." He knew how much you loved them.

You giggled again and pressed your lips to his, eliciting a satisfied hum from him. He blinked lazily at you, gathering some of your hair and pressing it behind your ear just so he could touch it. Where you had been hovering over him a bit before, now you let your body nestle in, chest pressed to his as you rested your chin on folded arms. "I don't want them to suspect anything."

"They won't suspect a thing." Billy sat up, his big hands under your arms to steady you. He pressed one, then two kisses to your nose. "Ain't the first time I've been late cause I was kissin' you."

"Yeah?" Your knees were bent, positioned under his arms as you sat facing him between his legs.

"Yeah." He stroked your thighs, and you smiled sweetly before untangling yourself from him and standing up, leaving him with his legs sprawled out on the bed. Billy made a disapproving noise, reaching for you again.

You straightened your dress that he'd artfully messed up, adjusting the top back over your chest. "You should hurry and get it over with."

Billy held out his arms, playing his final card. "You sure? We could have some cuddles 'fore I leave." He said it in a tempting way, shifting comfortably on the bed.

When you bit your lip, he could practically hear you considering. You loved cuddling more than you loved kisses, which was saying something. He'd never met anybody who liked physical affection as much as you, and it heartened him. That was something he could give in abundance.

For a moment he thought he had you, but then you shook your head. "No. I wanna have longer cuddles later."

Sighing, Billy dropped his arms, swinging his legs to the edge of the bed and reaching for his boots. "Alright, alright." He stood, stopping right in front of you. You were giving him a look that suggested you were expecting him to pull you back into bed for just a few more minutes.

Instead he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, reveling in your glow for just a brief second. "I'll hurry, angel. Won't be gone longer 'n an hour."

The stars in your eyes were a supernova.

They were burned into his vision the entire walk to the Seven Rivers ship, and he kept your imprint on his heart close as he handed over the dealings to Jesse. "You get a good vendor this time?"

"No, just decided to take more blood." The words were foreign in Billy's mouth, and they felt strange coming out. He reminded himself that he was just playing a part, even though it made him feel awful. He'd repent with extra kisses later. "There's another job I took a little out of bounds. Figured I'd get you the money for a few weeks' worth for while I'm gone."

It was a half-lie. Billy was planning on going out of bounds, but really he was spiriting you away for a little while. Some time with his girl without the looming threat of the gang hanging over your heads.

Jesse raised an eyebrow, but nodded, looking back down at the money. "Seems right. Y'know, prices for this stuff've been goin' up. Don't know why." Billy swallowed, remembering the incident in the market.

His eyes lifted to a healing scratch on Billy's arm, one he'd obtained while stealing the diamond. "You have some trouble gettin' it?"

"Gettin' what?"

"The blood." Jesse gave him a funny look, nodding at his arm. "She scratch ya or somethin'?"

Billy followed his eyes. "No, ah...shirt caught on a corner. Got me bad."

His friend looked wary, leaning back in his seat. Jesse's makeshift office on the ship contained nothing but two chairs and a large crate that acted as a table. Right now it was strewn with papers and coins. Still, Billy felt himself shrink back, feeling as though his mind was being read.

Jesse clicked his tongue. "Y'know...after we had her aboard and got blood out of her the one time our fingers were stained for weeks with gold." He looked pointedly at Billy. "Ya'd think for all the blood you're gettin'...your hands'd be shinier 'n silver."

Billy couldn't help looking at his clean hands even though he knew what he'd see. Roughened but not dirty. He bit the side of his cheek, scrambling for an answer. "Well...I had to figure out a new way, y'know? Didn't want blood all over me all the damn time." He was playing defensive and he hoped it wouldn't come across as fake. Jesse was better than a hound when he wanted to be.

Holding his breath, Billy watched the other man watch him, eyes boring in. He could have beamed a hole through Billy's chest with that stare. Mind racing, he prayed he would take the bait, be satisfied with his money and not bother to discover how he got it.

Finally Jesse stood, holding out his hand for a shake. "Well, good on ya for figurin' it out. Ain't that somethin'?"

Withholding a sigh of relief, Billy smiled, nodding and standing, clasping his friend's hand. "It is."

But the conversation didn't leave his mind for a long while as he meandered back to his ship, cutting through the marketplace. Maybe Jesse had let it go for now...but what if he decided to come check up just in case? What if you were alone when he did? Billy's blood ran cold as he imagined you defenseless against the same group of men who'd attacked and kidnapped you.

He drummed his fingers on his thigh, looking around. The crowd wasn't as thick as it usually was whenever he walked through here. He could clearly see the vendors and their wares, their tables of goods. The memory of you raising his pay for the diamond rose up, and he smiled, remembering how impressed he'd been. How he'd wanted to shout to the world that that was his girl.

Then he remembered the look on your face as you'd watched the woman arrested for protecting herself. The way you'd cried quietly after you thought he'd gone to sleep, his arms wrapped around you.

Suddenly the desire to get back to you was paramount. Billy was about to move forward when something caught the corner of his eye, making him pause and turn to look at it fully.

Red boldened letters stamped to a piece of paper already worn by the climate. When he turned back to the side, he saw dozens more plastered to walls and even the poles of vendor stands.

Billy's brow furrowed. Was there a new policy he was unaware of? Something that would limit his comings and goings? He thought anxiously of how he'd been planning to take you away. His permit to travel so far wasn't valid for at least a few more days, and he wondered if whatever was posted all over the city would prohibit it.

Tearing the poster from the clumsily hammered nail, he scanned the contents of it- one enormous headline and fine print scrawled underneath.

Something doused him like a bucket of ice water, the hair on his arms standing at attention. Billy could feel his heartbeat in his ears, and he crumpled the paper into his pocket, breaking into a run for the ship.

Star People To Be Apprehended

"Anyone fitting the description of a Star Person will be detained upon sight. Citizens are encouraged to alert the authorities if they see a person or persons they suspect may be of this variety in exchange for a monetary reward. The punishment for harboring a Star Person is detainment for life."

By the order of the Intergalactic Justice Forces

"Fifteen minutes?"

"Fifteen minutes."

You pouted, folding your arms and giving him doe eyes. "Why can't I just come with you? If it's not even going to be that long?"

Billy gave you an exasperated but fond smile. "Because I've gotta stop for a few things on the way back. Can't have you in the market out in the open, sweet girl." He looked down at you, head in his lap. He'd been absentmindedly playing with your hair, braiding a strand the way you taught him how. There was a flower in your hair, stem woven around your ear, completing the vision. You were heavenly, even when you were frowning so adorably up at him.

"Maybe I can go to the market while you're getting the permit," you said, looking up at him hopefully. The messy bedsheets pictured you so perfectly.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek, watching you melt into his touch. "No."

Huffing, you sat up, giving him a longing look that pulled at the loose threads of his heart where he'd stitched it up from the last time you'd pulled that face. "I haven't left the ship in three days Billy. I wanna go outside."

"I know, honey," he soothed, hand on your thigh stroking gently. "But we're gonna be outta here as soon as I get back 'n then we'll go far, far away from. We'll land somewhere real pretty." He said the last part hopefully, wanting to placate you for now.

But if you were a flower, your petals would be wilting. He could see your spirit dissipating like a misty cloud. Even on the road you'd been able to come outside provided you stayed in the vicinity of the ship.

But Billy wasn't about to take a single risk now.

He clasped one of your hands, meeting your eyes. It felt like every time he did he was starstruck by your sheer beauty. There wasn't a way to turn it off and he didn't want it to. "We'll be gone soon. It'll all be okay. Yeah?" Billy cupped your cheek in one hand, his palm shadowing your golden freckles.

You looked tired. He felt a pang of guilt, the emotion chewing at the corners of his organs. It had been a constant weight like a stone in his core ever since he'd seen the notice.

Asking around, he'd found out it had been triggered by the incident he'd seen with you. The Seven Rivers member he'd talked to had made it out to be a good thing, like your people were a vermin to be exterminated. "Lotsa folks’ e been feelin' the same way," he'd said proudly, adjusting his holster. "'Bout time someone did somethin' bout it. Filthy bastards."

It'd taken a massive amount of self-control to walk away.

The notice angered him beyond belief. It was well-known, if not acknowledged, that the Star People were treated as less than all because of the value of their life source. And now the law was using one incident to determine the fate of your entire species.

There had been whispers of the IJF selling blood in the past on secret markets. But Billy hadn't subscribed to it-he'd had no reason to. Now his only reason for anything was being threatened because of it.

He was grateful that the two of you were planning to leave anyways. Only he was damn certain that wherever he was taking you, he wasn't coming back. He'd wire Jesse and tell him that you had passed from blood loss (though the thought made him sick) and the two of you would be free forever.

There had only been the matter of his permit, and now, on the day he was set to pick it up, liberty was so close he could taste it.

Even though it was for a brief period of time, Billy couldn't stand the thought of you being miserable. He felt like a jailer, keeping you hostage aboard this ship even though it was for the best.

You never said anything of the like about him. No, you were too sweet, too good. It wasn't in you to resent him. But he resented himself for it.

The instinct to get you off this planet as soon as possible was surging within him now, and so he reached for you, relieved when you let him pull you into his chest. Your arms wrapped around him, warming a fire in his chest like always. Billy dug his nose into your hair, kissing your part. "I'm sorry. It's been tough, huh?"

"Yeah," you breathed, your fingers trailing up and down his back. His lips nudged your hair once more, and you looked up, a tiny smile on your face. "It's okay though."

Billy shook his head. "We can do better than that, angel." He framed your face in his hands, growing your smile a little bit more. "We will. There's lots of flowers where we're goin'."

"Lots of flowers?"

"Lots," he promised, thumbing your cheeks. "'n they're all growin' there, waitin' for you, sweetheart."

Now your smile had spread tenfold, and you tilted your chin up, your darling way of asking for a kiss. He indulged you with a smile of his own, and you muttered against his lips, "You should get going then."

"There's my girl," he chuckled, giving into the urge for one more kiss and standing up. You fluttered your fingers at him, and he tipped his hat as he put it on his head. "I'll be back soon, angel."

"Mkay," you hummed, rolling over onto your stomach and playing with a strand of your hair. He let his eyes linger on you before he left, your memory following him like perfume.

The exchange for the permit was fairly quick, and he whistled as he went about his business in the market, ignoring the guards blatantly stationed at the edges. They were eagle-eyed, scanning the perimeter and clutching their weapons. Always wary of the law, Billy kept his eyes down as he made his purchases.

He had been about to make his way out of the area that was now so tainted in his eyes, when a circlet with a simple star affixed to it caught his eye. Stopping to examine it, he nearly lit up from the inside out. Oh it was perfect for you. Something pretty to mark the start of your new life together.

Unfortunately, the line for that particular stall was long, and Billy thought about backing out a few times before ultimately deciding to stay. You deserved something nice after the hard few days you'd had. Besides, he knew you would love the bracelet. Jewelry was something you were utterly fascinated by, and he'd have you dripping with it if he could.

Finally he was able to pay, pushing through the hot crowd in a hurry. Where he had said he'd be gone fifteen minutes it'd now been nearly forty. Billy could only hope you weren't worried, that maybe you'd fallen asleep and he'd be able to crawl into bed with you in a few minutes.

Turning the bend into the grove where his ship was parked, Billy shifted the bag on on his hip when the scene before him made him freeze cold.

The door to the ship was open. And Jesse was kneeling on the ramp, holding a familiar flower between his fingers. One that had been lying amidst the stripes of gold in your hair almost an hour ago.

The bag slipped from his arms, and he hurtled forward like a meteorite, grabbing Jesse by the shirt collar and pinning him to the doorframe, breath hot as an angry bull's. "The hell did you do with her?" Billy demanded, grip tightening by the second. Images of the Seven Rivers Gang turning you in for a cash prize filled his mind, only furthering his rage. "Where is she?"

"I don't know!" Jesse held up his hands, eyes like saucers as he took in Billy's white hot rage. "Swear. Promise. I just came by-"

"Did you see who took her?" The words tumbled from his mouth like dominoes.

"She was just out here," Jesse managed, looking between Billy's eyes. His hat was askew, and he was clinging to the wall, collar pulled taut as he backed into it. "By herself. She was just standin' here. 'N then one 'f the IJF came outta nowhere and got her."

The IJF...no... Billy let go of Jesse's collar, the world spinning beneath his feet. He stumbled back, turning to look into the distance as if he could spot them taking you away. No no no...how had they found out? How did they know...? Someone must have seen you with him in town... But it didn't matter, not really. All that mattered was that you weren't safe.

There was a hand on his shoulder, and Billy nearly drew his gun. But it was just Jesse again, a strange look in his eyes like he'd never seen before. His friend was known for being cutthroat, a gang member down to his details. But now he was softened like butter in the sun. "She was your girl?"

It didn't matter anymore. "Yeah."

Flatteniing his lips, Jesse nodded. "Figured. Came by here to catch you in the act. Or somethin'."

Billy said nothing. He felt utterly despondent now, every sense blurring him. You must have been worried, wondering where he was. Maybe you would have wandered into the marketplace in search of him. Eyes falling to the plank, Billy noticed a spot of gold staining the metal that hadn't been there before. Something constricted in his chest, and he shut his eyes.

"Hey." Jesse shook his shoulder, his mouth set in a rigid line. "We can get her out."

"How?" The single word was dry, void of any emotion. All he could think of was you, terrified and helpless in a faraway place. Who knew where they had taken you, if you were even still alive?

"I know where they hold prisoners." Billy perked up, eyes lighting like fireworks. Jesse nodded again, patting his holster. "Ain’t the first time I’ve needed to break someone out. If we both go in, it'll be an easy take. You'll have 'er and then you can get outta here fast."

As Billy looked at his friend, turned foe for a while over the greatest love of his life, a flash of memories flooded him. All the times Jesse had stood up for him, helped him when nobody else would. He'd forgotten the brotherhood of bearing arms together, of making a hard living over and over while living in close quarters.

He'd forgotten his first friend.

Straightening up, Billy nodded, brows knitting together. "Lead the way."

With a half-smile, Jesse clapped his shoulder, turning to walk off the ship. The sun was setting, and it outlined him in gold. Billy couldn't help but think of you, the way you glowed without the radiance of any star behind you.

You were the star.

Jesse was right. It hadn't been a problem getting in. Two guards were taken out no problem, passed out in the dirt from the force of his punch. He and Jesse found a corner to hide behind, shoulders pressed together as they watched the passing patrols.

The structure was surprisingly simple, hidden not too far from the marketplace in the trees. And, he realized with an ache, terribly close to where you had lived when you'd first met him. The concrete walls were made for secrets of the law that he didn't even want to imagine, and he realized how lucky you'd been not to be eyed by the IJF before.

It was hauntingly silent, like a dug grave. Billy certainly felt six feet under as he looked down the hallway, at the row of doors, numbers written in chalk below the tiny windows.

There was no way to know which one you were behind, and he took in a frustrated breath as he thought about it. Sneaking through the forest, he'd caught glimpses of your ancestors winking down at him against the darkened sky. Billy had begged in his head for them to keep you safe, to protect you as best they could until he could get to you. I'll take over from there, I'll never leave her alone again.

Jesse nodded at the empty hallway, Billy's signal to start moving. He crept carefully into the area, glancing briefly through every window for your distinct glow. It ached his heart that he did see a few shining people similar to you, those who had gold in their veins. But they weren't you, and so he pressed on, thinking of the way you'd tried to run to the woman in the market that day.

You were brave, boldly beautiful in every one of your desires. He hadn't ever told you that, he needed to tell you that. Billy chided himself. You weren't dead. He would tell you when you were snuggled up in his arms again, far away and safe.

Approaching the last door, his heart fluttered hopefully. You had to be in here. There weren't any other cells in the facility, he'd made sure of it. But it hit him like a gut punch when the square space was empty.

Dread fell on him like rain, soaking every bit of his mind. You weren't here. A thousand other possibilities swam through his head, most of them assuming the worst. You'd been taken from him without doing anything wrong, and it was like ripping an angel from heaven and sending it to hell.

Grasping the door handle, eyes combing every bit of the space as if he'd somehow missed you. As if he couldn't have picked you out of a crowd of millions. No, no you had to be here. How...

No.

He didn't know what they had been planning on doing with those they captured. The rumors of blood use swam before his eyes. They wouldn't...they couldn't...

His heart sank, a stone in a river. As it thudded at his stomach, his mind unwillingly produced visions of a life without you. A life missing you. Billy had tossed aside all prophecies of what he'd thought his life would be before he met you. But now they were swimming to the surface, poking their heads up and waving. He would never find it in him to reach for any of them, put them on his mantle of dreams.

Knees weak, he shut his eyes, feeling faint. Oh claim him, stars above. Send him to be with you in the sky, your natural sphere. Or tell him at least which star was yours so he could gaze upon it every night. He'd settle for it, he'd get on his knees and thank your ancestors for that. If only to keep some semblance of you in his life.

He could imagine himself old and gray, no longer your handsome outlaw, staring up at the sky and hoping you remembered that he loved you. As unworthy as he had been, he had gotten one thing right.

Jesse came up beside him, gun drawn, and Billy forced himself to look up, not caring if his friend saw him in the depths of despair, where he would remain forever. Maybe he'd take him back in, to live on the Seven Rivers ship. Billy couldn't imagine going back to his ship, where he'd kissed and loved you so obviously. Your memory would haunt those hallowed halls, a spirit he would never be able to hold the same way again.

"C'mon, we've gotta go." Jesse didn't look excited about it, his eyes heavy. "They're gonna find us if we stay any longer-"

A scream tore into the night's poetry, blood seeping from the pages. Billy's ears perked up, and his heart grew lighter, floating back up to its place as he realized. Maybe it was a lover's instinct, but he knew.

It was you. It had to be you.

Turning to Jesse, Billy said, "Cover me." Hardly a pause passed before the other man nodded, holding his gun at the ready. Billy no longer cared about being quiet as he clomped through the halls, guards springing up from nowhere and aiming, firing shot after shot. Billy's gun was ruthless, and he shot without thinking, head only in one place. The scream had come from the furthest end of the prison. He could see the door in the distance, the only one in the area. When he'd searched the area earlier he'd assumed it was just an office.

Jesse shouted something and Billy ducked, narrowly missing a well placed hit. His feet couldn't move quick enough, and he grew impatient of the guards that kept coming up. It was endless, it seemed, especially when you were waiting at the end of the hallway.

One guard tossed aside his weapon and tackled Billy, knocking him flat to the ground and sending his own gun clattering. He was beefy, thicker, and Billy struggled under his arms, fists swinging. Firm knuckles smashed into his nose, and he winced, eyes watering, the familiar wetness of blood on his lip.

Adrenaline surging, Billy jammed his elbow up into his chest, hitting the sweet spot and making his opponent wheeze, body going limp. In a quick motion, Billy was able to shove him to the side and grasp his gun, scrambling to his feet and sprinting toward the door. It was like a golden beacon in the distance.

There were shots behind him, but he didn't risk a look back Jesse was a more experienced fighter than he was, and he could hold his own against a great deal of men.

Heaven was the touch of the doorknob under his fingers, cool metal on his hot skin. You were inches away, practically in his arms already. Billy swung the door open, gun drawn and ready to end whoever was holding you hostage.

The sight that greeted him nearly made him drop it again.

A body on the floor in a pool of scarlet leaking like a waterfall from the wound in his chest. Punctured by a glass dagger.

And you standing over it, hands over your mouth, dress a mess of gold and crimson.

Relief cascaded Billy like an avalanche before he had a chance to dissect the scene. He said your name once, voice gravelly, and your head snapped up, eyes going round. The tear tracks on your face may as well have been rivers. Your lower lip trembled. "Billy."

He stumbled towards you, taking you in his arms and collapsing to his knees. You were shaking like a leaf in autumn, shivering against his chest. Billy held you so tight he was worried you weren't able to breathe. But you clung to him, crying desperately into him.

Billy looked down at the body, recognizing the dagger and going still, realizing what had happened. He said a silent thank you to whatever had inspired him to get it for you.

No matter the reason, you were stricken with something beyond what Billy had seen in you before. Something he hadn't been able to protect you from, something he should have been there to defend you against.

Following his instincts, he stood, bringing you up with his arms supporting your body. You weren't walking out if he had a thing to say about it.

Jesse appeared in the doorway, blood on his clothes. He hardly blinked at the scene before him, instead gesturing to Billy. "Hurry. Think I got 'em all for now but there's more coming."

Before Billy could start to run, you reached up, burying your face in his neck and fisting his shirt. Your words were muffled, but he felt them. You were a language he was better versed in than his native tongue.

"I left the ship." The blame in your voice broke his heart.

Billy pressed his lips to your forehead, wincing when some of the blood from his lip came off on your skin. With your ancestors as his witness, you would never see another drop of blood, yours or anyone's again.

"No, I left." He heard footsteps in the distance and started to run, keeping you tight in his arms. "And I'm never doin' that again."

Exquisite things came in abundances in nature. Billy needed more than two hands to count them all, especially on this planet.

It was the epitome of peace, with towers of greenery, cities of flora and fauna as if a storybook had come to life. The wildlife was abundant and willing and beautiful, fluttering through the air and lying down in patches of sunshine.

He couldn't have dreamt up a better place to settle with you.

Here where he was standing on the porch of the cottage he'd built you, ship a greyish dot in the distance, he had a clear view of you in the field before the house, gathering flowers into bouquets of your own marvelous creation. There were flowers on just about every flat surface of your home, but he wasn't about to tell you to stop bringing them in.

You brushed your hair over one shoulder, grass tickling your calves as you moved to the side to pluck the perfect flower from the earth. Beautiful things find beautiful things.

This was one of his favorite things. To watch you in your element, when you were quiet, content in your heart. It had taken months since everything to get to this point.

He didn't know if you would ever forget that night. The things you'd been forced to do. Billy would suck that memory from your mind with a straw if he could, only leaving you with happy things. Every night that you woke up crying from more nightmares, which had become frequent, he pleaded with some higher power to put all the pain on him. He would bear your cross and let it weigh him down because it was yours. And if you ended up consuming his being he wouldn't complain for a second.

Billy began to make his way to you, never in a rush. He'd done enough running in his life. Now was a time for staying. Wanderlust was a thing of the past. Maybe he hadn't realized that he'd really been searching for something. And that something was looking up at him now, beaming like a sun and holding up a handful of flowers.

Reaching out, he smiled when you wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling into his chest. The star bracelet on your wrist caught the light, as did the gold in your hair. He inhaled softly, your ambrosial scent overwhelming his senses.

Thick and thin. The worst of the worst. He'd do it all over again if it meant he got to have this forever.

There was a wire from Jesse waiting inside. Likely something lighthearted, letting Billy know the comings and goings of Seven Rivers as usual. He smiled at the thought, but then you leaned up and pressed your mouth to his and he decided it could wait.

When you bounced on your tiptoes, Billy lifted you up and your legs wrapped around his waist. You leaned forward and nudged your nose against his. "You know, I think we'll be a constellation someday."

"Yeah?" The idea turned the future from silver to gold. "When you're in the sky again I'll be there too?"

You giggled, a swan song, and kissed him again, murmuring into him, "I'll hold onto you so tight that you can only come with me."

That sweet sentiment crawled over Billy like a vine, and he let his fingers glide up your back, eyes melting like warm chocolate.

"You hold onto me as tight 's you want angel. I ain't goin' anywhere."

Previous Part

[rippersz]

𝙇𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙞𝙙.

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(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (TW: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both, gore, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Reader)

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“Is that all you want to be? Liked? Wouldn’t you rather be passionately and voraciously desired?” ~ Margaret Atwood

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There’s something wrong with you.

There’s something definitely completely entirely seriously wrong with you.

She looks so pretty today.

Utterly irresistible.

You kind of want to kiss her. But she had lunch earlier. And you are in the middle of a staff meeting. And though she often brushes her teeth and uses breath mints, you don’t really want to taste the lingerings of human tissue. Even if the sounds of her pleasure would make it more bearable.

They probably wouldn’t though, of course. Because kissing a cannibal is not bearable in any way. And you’d probably throw up right after. And you’d probably gag and tell her to get away from you. And you’d probably have to wrench yourself away after realizing that although her mouth feels so good, and her hands feel so soft, she has painted entire walls red with her strength. And she has licked them clean with the same tongue she’d no doubt drag along your teeth.

…So no. Maybe kissing her wasn’t a very good idea.

And she was your boss. There was that too.

“Alright everyone, I think that’s it for today. Swift reminder that the Academy will undergo a planned power outage on Friday. Considering most of you will be chaperoning the students at the carnival that evening, I’ll be staying behind to look after the maintenance crew. If all goes well, it should be restored by the next morning. Please enjoy the rest of your days - if you need me, you know where I am.” Swift and to the point she was. Always so quick to hand out little encouraging smiles. Always eager to provide some words of wisdom or kindness. A very well-built facade.

And of course, because they have no other reason to doubt, they eat it all up with vigor. Little kittens to their saucer of fattening milk. Never ever stopping to question how Principal Weems is the way she is. And why she is the way she is. And what she does during her free time.

“Y/n, will you accompany me to my office please?”

You pause in the doorway, feeling the heel of your shoe touch the floor with a small muted clack, experiencing the drop of your heart as your fate is sealed without a single word.

But she doesn’t really need a response anyway. She knows you’re going to say yes. She knows you can never deny her - not unless she asks you to indulge in another one of her very well-cooked meals.

Compliments to the chef, you supposed.

“Of course, Larissa.”

Of course, Larissa.

What a fuckin’ pansy. You twisted bitch.

“Thank you,” is her soft responding whisper before she’s slipping past you and strutting out into the hall - leaving you to close the door behind you both and trail after her like a hungry mutt.

A strange beast of utter tranquility seems to exist within Larissa at all times whenever she’s with you. Never before have you seen her angry, though you know from stories that- on occasion- her irritation can lead to fury. It’s not a pretty sight apparently. But you know that’s most likely not true. You know it’s probably a very pretty sight - but no one wants to admit it. And no one wants to talk about it. Some women are simply off limits even in mention whenever they become angry. Rage, after all, is a powerful thing. It travels through ears- time- and space.

You know you’ve never seen her that way because she doesn’t want to scare you.

You know it’s because she doesn’t want you to be scared of her. Only her.

But you can’t help but wonder - is it too late for that?

Are you already scared of her?

Or is there still time to put you at ease? Make you comfortable? Help you settle?

No.

No no no.

You will not settle. You will not let her rest. For as much as she hides it, you know Larissa lives on the edge of nervousness. She knows she can only control you but only to a certain extent. And she knows you set the pace; even though one would be led to believe that she has all the power. She doesn’t. It may be her turn to serve, but the ball is, perpetually, within your court.

“Please close the door behind you, thanks.” And with that, you find yourself led into the lion’s den; willingly putting yourself to the slaughter as she goes about setting her things down and straightening her dress to sit.

The door closes.

The silence falls.

You feel a bit nauseous.

You feel a bit excited.

You feel a bit crazy.

Daring.

She may be a murderer, a human-eater, a manipulative mad-woman with an incredible sense of fashion, but she also makes you feel alive. And that’s the scariest part.

Any woman knows that once something interrupts the din of daily living, once something begins to worm and thrive and corrupt, there is rarely any chance to go back. You are infected. The virus spreads. The lightning strikes the bones. The heart starts to pump faster than sound travels. You’re alive. For the very first time, you’re alive. Your mother’s womb was not a home. And the world was not a result of love. You’re alive only due to that thing.

Only due to her.

You want to run out of the room.

You want to face her.

Your heart speaks before your mind does.

She’s looking at you. Contemplating you, which she always seems to do. Running her eyes up and down your back, and across your arms, and over your chest and shoulders and down to your midsection and legs. She isn’t thinking about eating you or cooking you - at least you don’t think so. No. No, she’s just admiring. Allowing herself to be before she has to jump back into her role as ‘The Principal’. Or ‘The Murderer’. Either way, you don’t always like the staring - so you break her trance when you turn and walk over to the chairs opposite her desk.

“What is it now?” Your words come out in a huff when you sit, placing your bag on the floor by your side. “I have things to do.” No, you don’t. You wouldn’t have followed if you did. But that’s also not true. You followed only because you wanted to - because curiosity has always been your greatest enemy. And she smiles brightly because she knows that.

“I was just curious about something,” is her easy response. Her hands move to clasp themselves together.

“Hm. What?” Crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back into your chair is the only way you can maintain an air of control. It probably doesn’t work, but that’s beside the point.

“I’ve been growing bored lately. Summer is so far away and the days are dragging on longer than they ever have before,” Larissa laments, letting out a sigh (most definitely forced) to go along with it.

You raise an eyebrow. Where is she going with this?

“I think they’re coming along just fine. And winter is ending soon so it’s not that far.”

But she’s never been one to back down from a challenge, so instead of taking the hint and changing tactics, Larissa only smiles and gives you a small incline of her head. It’s the only recognition you’ll ever receive in regards to ‘being right’.

“Mmm but think of the events we’re all planning for. They’re fun, sure, but time consuming. Though the carnival, in particular, will provide some excitement for everyone...”

Everyone but me, of course is what she means to say.

You resist the urge to frown.

It’s just another thing about Larissa Weems. The guilt. The sympathy. She is not harmful, you try to tell yourself. But she is. She is just a woman, you insist. That doesn’t make it better. She… she needs help. But then you look at her and you know that she doesn’t want help. And want and need are two different things. And whatever Larissa is about to ask of you next, you’re pretty sure it’s something she wants and something you need.

“Okay… and this has to do with me h-”

“I’d like to have fun as well. Just for one evening. Would you be interested in joining me?”

You blink.

This time around, there’s nothing giving her away. In fact, she’s very still in her seat - practically on the edge - wondering if the invisible line the two of you always seem to move around has finally been crossed. Your points of contact consist of meals taken in her study and the occasional quick stroll through the hall. There is nothing outside of that. So what is this? And why now? And what did she mean?

Well. You’ll never know unless you say-

“...Sure.”

What’s the worst that could happen?

You could die.

Meh. What’s a little death?

“Wonderful,” is the slow toothy-smiled response you receive. Though her reaction is all sunshine, with the way her eyes crinkle and her nose scrunches and her head tilts a little bit, some part of you knows she’s surprised. It’s found in the way her eyebrows tick up just the tiniest bit. She was expecting a fight. Or more questions. Or any type of refusal at all. But perhaps you’ve grown soft… perhaps you don’t care.

You do, though. You do care.

But, you reason, in the face of The Devil, would a lone Angel not know that it’s better to play along and wait than to find themselves in trouble, stuck for eternity? Because that is what you’re doing, is it not? You’re waiting, no? Observing? While she may be the predator in the underbrush, staring through the bush, you’re the prey with more speed, faster reflexes, and keener eyes. You peer and you watch, knowing that the moment will come in which you’ll need to race off to the edge of the world - and never look back. Just like the Angel finding their time to leave.

But you are no Angel. Don’t you dare compare yourself to that.

Hm. Maybe not. But nonetheless.

“I was thinking of taking part in a game this Friday evening. One of our own, while we have Nevermore to ourselves…” Larissa says gently, drumming her fingertips on the surface of the desk. “Does that sound amenable to you, darling?”

Darling….

You clench your hands into fists, fighting down a violent shiver. Darling. Oh she was wicked when she spoke to you like that. All low tones and velvet tongue and blue eyes peering up through dark lashes… so knowing in her effects. Using them to her advantage. Like she figures that if she could be sultry for a long enough time, you’d somehow remarkably forget about her tendency to eat people. To devour them. To watch the life leave their eyes and think, yes, this one will be in my breakfast. Perhaps in an omelet. Or maybe a side dish of meat with a main course of cinnamon toast and honey.

“What kind of game?” There’s an edge to your voice. It gives you away.

What makes you think she won’t eat you next?

There’s a flash of pink tongue running over white teeth. A quirk of a smile. A hum rumbling from the throat.

“A fun one. Hide and seek, most likely.”

You’d probably taste good. She’s thought about it before. There’s no way she hasn’t.

“And the terms?”

Ah. Hook, line, and sinker. She knows she’s got you.

“I think we should save that for the night of, don’t you agree?”

No. You don’t.

“Why?”

But it doesn’t really matter what you think.

“Well I believe we all need a little bit of surprise in our lives every once in a while. Who knows?” Larissa shrugs, shuffling in her seat to cross her legs at the ankles, “You too may find that you prefer to know all of the details when the time comes.” She licks her lips. You try not to stare. “And I’ve always been a woman of my word. So there’s no need to worry. Is there?”

Yes. Yes there’s always need to worry. Yes you worry very much. All the time. About many things. But mainly her. Primarily her. Nearly her all of the time. It’s reflexive, honestly. Instinctive. You track her movements with a thumping heart and hungry eyes - not because you want to eat her, but because you want to kiss her. Hug her. Fuck her. Until she forgets that she’s stronger than you. Until her hunger for human flesh dies down into nothing. Until you can cure her. Be safe with her. Be finally finally free with her.

Wishful thinking, of course. She can’t change.

So instead of doing what you do want to do and reach over to kiss her- or stab her with a nearby paperweight- you shoot her a heavy glare. “Why can’t you just be normal?” rests on the tip of your tongue, but you shove it back into the recesses of your throat. There’s no point in upsetting her. And the sight of her sadness makes you wanna throw up. And anything you say could be the cause of your death. So, to a certain extent, eggshells are where your feet rest. And dance. And twirl. And lord knows when you’ll be able to stand on solid ground again. Maybe when she’s behind bars, or in a mental ward, or six feet beneath the Earth… rotting, no matter what, but rotting far away from you.

The sound of her throat clearing has you tearing your eyes away from their spaced out spot on the window - and bringing them right back to her. The very epicenter of your worry. And your horror. And your lust. And everything. Everything everything everything.

“I-…” You want to tell her that you’re scared and unsure, but you don’t know if she’ll care. You don’t know if she’ll use that against you one day either. So without choices left, you sigh. “Yeah, okay. Okay. I’ll wait. Fine.”

And you hate the way her smile makes your heart skip a beat.

«——..✞..——»

Surprised Cannibal Larissa got so much love! I know it’s different, but I quite like writing the uncomfortable things. Lemme know if you’d like to see more of her? Thank you all. - Rip x

«——..✞..——»

[sickly-qt]

Hi!! I’ve been following you for over 4 months now and I just wanted to say that I love you fics.

Anyways, I’ve been keeping up with the Drew pregnancy series and I just wanted to ask if you can make a fix where Finn is already sick from food poisoning or wtv and Drew tries to be caretaker to her best abilities while still being sick too because she’s pregnant.

Lots of love and luck

-🍎 Anon

I love this prompt!! and thank you so much for loving my guys for so long! This fic got way longer than I anticipated, but I hope you enjoy!

Thank you so much for the prompt 🍎 anon!

~~~

“What are you doing home already?” Drew asked, walking out of the bathroom while drying her hair with a towel. 

“I was finished with the stuff that had to be done today and I really started to not feel well after lunch, so I decided to head home a little early.”

“Oh okay.” Drew frowned and went back to the bathroom to finish her post shower routine. 

This was their first full day back home from their trip to Seattle and also Finn’s first day back at work. It also happened that night was when they had planned to discuss what they were going to do with this whole baby predicament they were in. Drew wanted to make the night nice and order takeout from their favorite place, but Finn being sick was going to put a wrench in everything. 

She hated that she was upset about him not feeling well and she also hated that she felt like she was on the verge of tears about her plans for a nice night not going her way. Pregnancy hormones really weren’t doing her any favors.

“Hey, are you alright?” Finn asked, leaning on the doorway to the bathroom. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Why don’t you get changed out of your work clothes and lay down, we can save our talk about stuff for when you’re feeling better.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Finn sighed and rubbed his face, “Drew, it’s a huge deal. I know it’s a huge deal, that’s why I don’t want to be crazy nauseous when we talk. I want to be focused on you.”

Drew finally turned to face him and fully took him in for the first time since he got home. He looked clammy and his face was pale. His shirt was untucked and the first couple buttons were undone. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I just had a whole plan to make tonight nice and not intense and it’s just not going right.” She whined. 

“Okay, come here.” He stood up straight and opened his arms, Drew took a couple steps toward him and collapsed into his arms, burying her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed his hands up and down her back.

“I’m sorry, Babes. What I ate for lunch just really isn’t agreeing with me. How are you feeling?” 

Drew pulled away and shrugged, walking out into the living room, “I haven’t been sick at all… I was a little nauseous before lunch, but I think I was just hungry.”

“That’s good, maybe you’re getting through the morning sickness part of it.” 

“I can hope, get changed and we can watch a movie or something?”

Finn walked back into the room and changed into more comfortable clothes. 

“How are you feeling?” Drew asked him when he came back out to the living room.

“Like I’m going to be sick… but not right now.” He muffled a burp into his fist and leaned back into the couch, “Definitely at some point though.” 

Drew scrunched up her nose, even the potential of Finn getting sick making her stomach clench.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling so bad.” 

Finn shrugged and laid down, putting his head in her lap. “I’m sure I'll be fine after I throw up.”

“Ew, babe. How about we try not to throw up.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.” He said noncommittally, already starting to doze off. Drew pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and spread it over the both of them, putting a random movie on and absentmindedly running her fingers through Finn’s hair as he slept in her lap.

She had also dozed off when Finn’s head popped up, startling her. 

He didn’t say anything as he pushed himself up and suddenly gagged, trying to rush to the bathroom but getting tangled in the blanket, tripping and catching himself on the arm of the couch before bolting the rest of the way to the bathroom.

Drew cringed hearing Finn burp wetly, the sound alone making her feel sick.

She collected herself to the best of her ability and filled a cup with water. 

“You okay?” she asked, sitting the cup on the sink and returning to the doorway. 

Finn was crouched in front of the toilet, staring intently at the water. Droplets of puke were on the seat that he obviously didn’t have the time to lift up. He swallowed hard, nodding before his back arched with a harsh retch. Another wave quickly followed and Finn dropped to his knees, clutching onto the seat as another gush came up with little effort from his part. Drew turned away and gagged into her hand, contemplating if she should just leave.

“Fuck,” He groaned, flushing the toilet and grabbing toilet paper to wipe his mouth and blow his nose. Finn gagged, “I’m gonna be here for a while.”

Drew took a couple steps into the bathroom and stifled a gag when the smell hit her.

“Drew, it’s okay. I’m okay. You don’t have to stay.” 

“It’s alright.” She lied, standing behind him and rubbing his back. “Can you drink some water?”

“No,” He murmured, shaking his head. “Really, I know how queasy all of this makes you now. You don’t have to stay.” Finn leaned forward and burped over the toilet, a small mouthful of whatever he ate for lunch splattering into the toilet.

Drew gagged into her shoulder, trying to keep rubbing his back as he continued to be sick. She finally retched in earnest, slapping her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry Babe, I c- I can’t.” She retched again into her hand, rushing out of the bathroom to stand in front of the kitchen sink. 

She tried to breathe through it, one hand steadying herself on the counter and the other on her stomach. Her mouth was filling with bitter saliva and she was trying to swallow it down, but she couldn’t keep up. She burped up a mouthful of water and grilled cheese into the sink, coughing harshly as another small wave came up. Drew closed her eyes and tried to stifle more gags as she turned on the water, hoping that everything would wash down without any issues.

She wiped her nose on her sleeve and took a deep breath. 

“Are you alright?” Finn asked hoarsely, making Drew jump.

“Yeah,” She sniffled, turning to face him. “Are you?”

He nodded, “Yeah. I’m sorry, me throwing up made you throw up.”

Drew swallowed, just mentioning it making her nauseous again, “It’s okay babe, you aren’t feeling well… Can we not talk about it anymore though?”

“Yeah, let’s go lay down.”

“That sounds like exactly what I need.”

Finn turned toward her after they both settled in bed.

“You don’t have to feel like you have to be there for me when I’m puking. Not if it’s going to make you sick. I just have food poisoning or something, I’ll be okay.”

Drew nodded, “You’re just always there for me. I want to be there for you too.”

“You are there for me, just a little more distant. Do I have to remind you that you’re growing a whole person? That’s a little more important than rubbing my back while I throw up.”

Drew nodded again, “I want to keep the baby, I think. If that’s okay.” She said in almost a whisper, “See growing a whole person through or whatever.”

“Yeah Drew, of course that’s okay. It’ll be an honor to raise a baby with you. I’ll be there every step of the way” Finn responded quietly, grabbing her hand.

“You’ll still love me when I’m huge and miserable?”

“I still love you now, when you’re all pukey and miserable.”

Drew cracked a smile and let out a small laugh, “Okay, then maybe we can do this.”

“Yeah, I think we can figure it out.”

[idyllic-affections]

how abt a scenario where big brother!kaeya comforts his little sibling who’s going through a hard time mentally and maybe has abandonment issues and fears that kaeya will leave them too

stormy nights.

summary. stormy nights are the hardest to bear.

trigger & content warnings. abandonment issues, general themes of anxiety, and implied past abandonment.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. comfort. kaeya & younger sibling!reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.

author's thoughts. i needed something to post since i'm working on lengthy requests at the moment, so i settled on fulfilling this older one! i love kaeya sm.... i'm not complety content with how this came out but i'm posting it nonetheless because i am in the process of unlearning my nitpicky habits. is it the same quality as my usual writing? nope! but that's fine. not everything will always be 100% up to whatever imaginary standard i have set for myself and there is not a single thing wrong with that.

       Rain, in their mind, was a pleasant type of weather... for the most part, anyway. There was nuance.

       It depended on the exact type of rain. A simple shower, a little bit of rainfall... that was pleasant. Relaxing, even. The way the droplets would tap repeatedly against the tiles of their roof brought a sense of comfort and calmness into their home. It quieted their mind. It was a serene pattern that had the capacity to lull them to sleep if they were in the right position. Sometimes they'd even stand outside in the gentle rain, paying no mind to the way it dampened their clothes and skin. It was inexplicably soothing.

       However, thunderstorms were a different beast entirely.

       The flashes of light, the clap of thunder in the distance or sometimes even scarily within their vicinity...

       Thunderstorms never sat well with them. Ever since they were but a small, vulnerable child, such horrible rain made a sense of dread settle in their gut. They were drenched in such frigid, violent rain once; the memory alone made their skin crawl and their muscles ache. Thunderstorms simply didn't sit well with them. They brought up too many gut-wrenching memories.

       It reminded them of being abandoned by their father.

       It reminded them of Diluc and Kaeya's falling out.

       It reminded them of all the shitty things that'd ever happened to them, really. All of their major life events were accompanied by thunderous rain. The universe enjoyed mocking them, it seemed, for regardless of the circumstances, heavy rain always signalled bad.

       Thunderstorms made anxiety settle uncomfortably in the pit of their stomach.

       Given that fact, it was no surprise that they spent the past hour tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep in spite of their uncontrollable panic. When the frustration finally boiled over like an unsupervised pot on the stove, they huffed, throwing their blanket off of their body with uncharacteristic aggression and got up. There was little use in trying to sleep. They obviously couldn't, so they may as well go find something else to do. Something to pass the time until Kaeya got home or until the rain stopped—whichever happened first.

       It was with quiet steps that they treaded out of their room. They weren't quite sure where they were headed or what they were exactly planning on doing at this hour. Maybe they'd get a snack from the kitchen and sit in the living room for a while? Anything would do, they supposed. Anything that didn't involve trying to sleep.

       To their suprise, which quickly faded into relief, Kaeya was home, drying himself off with a towel that he had probably gotten from the closet. Some of their anxiety melted away almost immediately when his gaze landed on them.

       "K— Kae..." they murmured, barely above the volume of a delicate whisper that undoubtedly was drowned out by the rain and thunder. They were quick to wipe away the tears welling up in their eyes. Hopefully, the dim atmosphere kept the Cavalry Captain from noticing (deep down, they knew better; Kaeya was always so observant when it came to them and their needs). They cleared their throat, speaking with more conviction so that they could certainly be heard over the weather: "When... um, when did you get here? You usually don't come home for a while longer."

       "I came as soon as it started raining," he admitted, beckoning them closer, to which they gladly complied. They sincerely hoped he didn't take note of the sheer speed with which they ran to be in his embrace. If he did, he said nothing of it. Their head came to rest on his chest. Kaeya caringly raised a hand to their cheek, tenderly brushing his thumb over their cheekbone. His freehand ran up and down their spine soothingly. "You've never been one to sleep through the rain. Ever since you were little, you could never sleep if it rained too hard.

       "But... you're... you're busy, aren't you?" they wondered, feeling their eyes begin to burn as tears started to well up once again. They did their best to blink those tears away. "You can't drop everything for me."

       "Indeed I can, I did, and I will continue to do so."

       "Kaeya..."

       "Shh," he hushed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on the crown of their head, smoothing down the unkempt stands no doubt caused by their tossing and turning. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. Jean understands."

       It was quiet for a moment. Then, they sniffled.

       "Don't leave me."

       "I plan on doing no such thing."

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[thelarriefics]

NEW YEARS FIC REC: Below you will find fics that take place during the New Year, or have scenes that center around it.

📖 Mistletoe's For Two by @ireallysawanangel (90k)

After an encounter in a coffee shop with the rudest man he's ever met, Louis hopes the city is just big enough that he'll never bump into him again. When he spots that man at a bar the following evening, a plan begins to form. They both need dates for their respective Christmas parties and decide to use each other for their own benefit. They'll help one another through the holidays and then 'break it off' on New Year's, then agree to never see each other again. Developing feelings was not part of the plan. Or, an enemies to lovers fake dating advent fic.

📖 Home For The Holiday by @larrysmomfics (86k)

A "The Holiday" inspired AU where Harry meets Louis after agreeing to swap houses with a stranger on the internet for three weeks over the holidays.

📖 like cranberries on a winter evening by @evilovesyou (57k)

Louis hates Christmas. With good reason, too. And no, he doesn’t want to talk about it. When research for his next novel leads Louis to the website of a quirky little hotel in Northumberland, there is exactly one room available for the two weeks that Louis really wants to get away from his family. Will the fairy lights, kind smiles, homemade pastries, and genuine friendships awaiting him in Harry Styles’ hotel be enough to cause Louis a change of heart?

📖 Baby, Won't You Look My Way? by @peachbootylouis (50k)

Or the where Louis’ routine centered life runs like clockwork until a chance hook up throws a wrench named Harry into it all. But as it may turn out a change in plans could be what Louis has needed all along.

📖 Cabin Fever by @germericangirl (46k)

One cabin, one bed, two ex-boyfriends. What could possibly go wrong?

📖 silver lining, perfect timing by @stylesthebrave (22k)

For as long as they've been friends, the whole world has been saying Louis and Harry should get over themselves and date already. It takes an impromptu winter holiday for Louis to admit that everyone else might have been right all along.

📖 as in olden days by @scrunchyharry (18k)

Château Frontenac hotel, Christmas 1925   When his father insisted the entire family spend Christmas abroad in one of his new investments, Harry dreaded the prospect of being trapped for weeks in the biting Canadian cold, so far away from the roaring excitement of his London life. As he crossed half of the world to be buried under a thick blanket of snow, he never imagined he would meet a charming bellhop who would do his best to keep him warm.

📖 I Can Build Your Heart A Home by @loveislarryislove (10k)

Or, Harry and Louis kind of secretly sort of dated in high school. Now it's two years later and they're both back in town for Christmas and it's awkward. Until it isn't.

📖 promise not to fade away by @nobodymoves (10k)

Louis is an A&R rep, and Harry is a singer/songwriter. They meet on New Years Eve.

📖 It's Thursday. Let's Get (un)Dressed. by @bananaheathen (9k)

When Louis is peer-pressured into downloading TikTok over the holidays, he fully expects to hate it. And he does hate it. All of it. Well... except for aspiring OOTD influencer, @harrystyles.

📖 I want your midnights by @guccistrawberries (8k)

or It all starts with a harmless round of the name game

📖 Happy New Life's! by @outofmycistem (5k)

If everything would work out perfectly, in case it didn't already happen until this point, they would be out in exactly 10 years. With a simple tweet of a picture and a 3 sentence text. Because it's as easy as that and even if they would forget about it, which they swore they wouldn't, it wouldn't be that much of a deal anyways, right? Or, the one where Harry and Louis (more or less) accidently come out with a tweet they planned 10 years ago.

📖 Know What You Need by @absoloutenonsense (4k)

Harry always thinks he knows what he needs, but Louis knows better.

📖 Rapture by @allwaswell16 (3k)

It was New Year's Eve in Victorian London, and a lonely vampire could no longer resist the stunning lamplighter he watched night after night. Or, a vampire Harry fic because what says the holidays like Victorian vampires?

📖 this far from mediocre by @louisandtheaquarian & @zaynmaliksmiddlefinger (2k)

In this scene, Louis meets Zayn for the first time at an industry party on New Year's Eve that Liam is DJ-ing. Oh, and Harry shows up too.

📖 Stroke of Twelve by @larry-hiatus (2k)

Or the one where Louis wants Harry to hold off his orgasm so they can come together at the stroke of twelve on New Year's Eve.

📖 anything for you, gorgeous by @track-five (1k)

after a long night of new years celebrations, louis somehow manages to get his boyfriend home in one giggly, clingy piece.

📖 a taste of bliss by @beckydoesthings (1k)

It's New Year's Eve, and Louis is working. As much as he hates it, there's a few benefits to working a holiday. One is the free champagne. The second may or may not come in the form of a curly haired sous chef named Harry.

[carlyraejepsans]

> YOOOOOOOOOO 👀👀

The room goes dark, a convenient puff of air snuffing out the flames in the fireplace. For a terrifying moment, as your eyes struggle to adjust, you are blind.

"Beauties and gentle-beauties," the robotic voice booms again, "Welcome…"

A drum rolls into a crescendo.

Then from blind, you are blinded.

The light returns like a blade, cutting a sharp circle around you and Sans' figures. He's not alone in the spotlight, however.

"To tonight's melodrama!" The King concludes with a flourish.

Like a switch being flipped, the room explodes into noise and color. Colorful heart shaped lights dance along the walls, produced by drone-like machines that flutter in the air from the open window as soon as the cues are given. Cameras, screens, microphones. They fill the once quiet room with their mechanical whirring. From somewhere above you, confetti rains to the floor.

The King flashes a dashing smile at the cameras. At least, you think he does. As close to a smile as he can get in his rectangular form, anyway.

He waves one arm in the air, saluting; the other clasping Sans' shoulder in apparent good humor. Sans' smile is frozen but unfazed.

Privately, you're relieved for him that skeletons don't have much in terms of soft tissues. That grip looks like it would bruise.

"Everyone give a big hand to our two wonderful protagonists!"

The King lets go of his bodyguard to clap along to the audio track that automatically begins to play. Sans shrugs his shoulders—the characteristic gesture masking any signs of physical discomfort—before popping a lazy salute at the cameras.

Your terrified eyes meet his for a moment, but he doesn't seem to acknowledge you.

"My dear viewers, I must first of all offer you an apology. Dragging you out of your beds at this ungodly hour… where have my manners gone. However! An unforeseen development has recently unfolded."

He's fast. He's very fast for something that moves like a military grade unicycle. In the blink of an eye, he's by your side. The colorful panel of his face is unreadable; the lights of the improvised studio catch on the golden crown atop his head.

"The ghost of tears…"

His gloved hand reaches up to gently grab at your chin and turn your once crying face to the cameras.

"A midnight rendez-vous… turned to tragedy."

As fast as he came, he's gone, rolling to the centre of the room and spreading his arms to his sides with pathos.

"Could this be? A heart wrenching tale of unrequited love?!!"

Where you stare dumbfounded and frozen, Sans laughs. He takes a few steps forward, planting himself right by Mettaton's side, then throws a wink, first at you, then at the cameras.

He doesn't break a sweat. The movement is so natural it seems like second nature. You wonder, for a second, just how long he's been working for Him.

"oh you know. nothing like some light heartbreaking and entering to end the night, am i right?"

A rimshot rings out. You're not sure why, but you feel like it wasn't part of the planned sound design. The king's robotic laugh sounds even hollower than usual.

"Of course! Of course! My agent's penchant for humor is more than well known. But!"

He turns to you—and with him your knees to jelly. The King tilts his royal microphone at you, teasingly. Threateningly.

"Everyone is waiting for the real scoop, darling! Our special human guest. What do YOU have to say in all of this?"

[falling-star-cygnus]

HI HIII HELLO!!! -> your request has been moved over here, and i sincerely hope you enjoy!!

and i really like these ideas!! so thank you ever so much for the request, dear anonymous

i toyed with an idea like this before in my head, but i couldn't quite figure out how to articulate it ~so~ hopefully this'll help me out with Nekomata's characterization more

Spending so much time in Hollows, it's easy to forget that Billy can be harmed by things that aren't Ethereals.

Badly harmed.

Nekomata hadn't been a member of the Cunning Hares' for long, hardly long enough to be allowed into the tightly knit circle shared between the two Demara's and the android, but it's almost like that didn't matter. Especially not to Billy.

Even before she was a member, it was like he had already decided she deserved his kindness. It was a sort of bright-eyed, literally, brand of naivete that infuriated her. How dare he be so nice to her? How dare he show such kindness to the thiren that was leading them to their deaths.

How dare he make her feel so guilty, when he- when the Hares'-

Except it wasn't really the Hares' that had killed Miguel in the end, was it?

It was PubSec. And every drop of guilt Nekomata had felt was well deserved.

"Nekomata-!"

Back in the present, nowhere near a Hollow this time, she remembers being bodily shoved aside. Remembers clearly the choked down sound of pain and the crunch of metal that happened all in the blink of an eye.

Billy stood tall in front of Nekomata, stance squared as the jaws of this- yellow mutilated construction vehicle clamped around his left arm. It shook with the effort of keeping the thing from throwing him around like a chew toy- but he didn't falter.

"Kitty- you okay?" the android calls over his shoulder, his voice tight with strain and worry, "I didn't push you too hard, did I?"

"M-Me? What about you-?"

At worst her palms were a bit scraped up from hitting the asphalt, but that was more a result of the thiren's instinctual flailing than his protective insert. And he was the one in the jaws of the beast! Literally!

Care about yourself first, dummy-! Nekomata thinks venomously, shooting up to her paws as the mechanical thingamajig nearly throws her new teammate to the ground. She doesn't know what she was planning on doing, exactly, but Billy takes the decision out of her hands anyway.

He lines up a shot, somewhere between the shoulder and the armpit, and fires!

The bullet pierces the joint in a clean arc, and removes the limb with a sharp 'ting!' and a 'thud!' as it hits the concrete! It's jaws- is it the jaws? It looks more like a hand now that Nekomata isn't fearing for her life- they don't release Billy's arm until he's been nearly dragged to the floor with it.

Foolishly, the thiren had been hoping that the crunch of metal she heard was the teeth breaking on the android's build.

It wasn't.

It most definitely wasn't.

The plates of the android's arm tear like butter under the drag- ripping his red sleeve to ribbons and causing sparks to fly in firework-esque bursts. Billy brings his other hand up to one of the deeply bit teeth and tries to wrench it out without causing more damage.

Nekomata leaps to help, finally shaken out of her stupor by a startled mip of pain that Billy looses when one of the clamps catches on some wiring.

"Wait- Nekomata, your hands-"

Ah- right, the scrapes. She'd honestly forgotten about them, her gloves had absorbed most of the damage, after all- even if they'd been torn to shreds in the process.

The android tries to gently guide her hands away by the wrists, but Nekomata bullies her way closer with a hiss.

A familiar rush of anger clouds her head. His damn- friendliness. Why couldn't he just be mean?

"Billy, your arm," the thiren snaps back, tails lashing to better show her infuriation, "What're you worrying about me for, huh!? Look at you!"

"Wh- huh? But I'm fine," he exclaims, like a liar, "This can be fixed no problem! You can't!"

"That's not the point, dummy!"

Seriously! Not! The! Point! Nekomata punctuates each thought with a bap to his fluffy hair. How dare he! How. Dare. He! How dare he imply his injuries mattered any less! The nerve!

...huh. It was surprisingly soft.

Before she even realizes what she's doing, her hand simply- ruffles it from side to side. The android sputters in confusion under her ministrations.

"Nekomata!?"

"Shut up!"

Billy shuts up.

The two stay there in silence for a few more minutes, and eventually the thiren moves back to help him free what's left of his arm. He doesn't push her away this time, even though he's clearly not happy with the agitation of her scrapes.

He could be missing a limb- and he's worried about her. Her, who hasn't even been a member of the Hares' a full three months!

Stupid, big hearted, stupid android.

"You know," Nekomata starts, even though she doesn't really know where she's going with this, she just wants him to get it already, "it doesn't matter that you can be put together again. It still happened."

Billy stills under her hands with a surprised little noise, but she just tightens her grip and barrels on.

"You'll still remember it happened."

The last clamp finally gets pulled free, but it snips right through a wire on it's way out, and the android bites back a yelp as he stumbles forward. Nekomata is quick to wrap her arms around his shoulders and hold tight- half to keep him upright and half to keep him close.

"So please," she begs, burying her face into his jacket collar, "Please don't pretend that it didn't."

She can feel him jolt in her impromptu hug, and for a terrifying moment she's scared he might pull away and brush it all off again, the thiren couldn't really stop him if he truly wanted to- but Billy just brings his arm up to hug Nekomata back.

His grip is so unbelievably soft- feeble.

"...okay." he says, not a promise but an acknowledgement, "okay."

[vivid-vices]

hello hi, wanna go off a bit about mori-san? whatever you want to say, just have fun~

hi :) i always wanna talk about mori!!

i can't stop thinking about the disconnect between mori and dazai that comes from mori projecting onto dazai so hard. like when they first met dazai was very much like mori - obviously much more disinterested in life but he didn't have any close human connections and was able to follow mori's commitment to the ideal solution because of it. but through chuuya and ango and especially oda, he came to develop strong bonds with people that mori simply doesn't have. and mori didn't predict that.

dazai's words to fyodor about not trusting anything you can't control could apply equally to mori. he's a chess master and the city of yokohama is the board and the mafia members are his pieces. he treats them well, doesn't carelessly throw away lives, but at the end of the day, they have a purpose to serve. and oda - he was barely a pawn. he was so underutilized. mori doesn't have the kind of relationships that would allow him to prioritize true friendship, to value people outside of their usefulness. he expected dazai to follow his logic and ultimately understand the purpose of the sacrifice.

except dazai loved oda. and oda threw a wrench in all of mori's careful planning by telling dazai to escape to the light.

because maybe, maybe, mori could've predicted dazai going off to sulk and be angry for a while before ultimately coming back to the mafia, because what else did he have in life before oda gave him a purpose? but when he first heard that dazai joined the agency, it had to be a complete shock. a slap in the face, honestly. his greatest tool, his most competent executive, the boy he trained and taught and led for four years, now part of an enemy group because of his own actions.

that had to sting a bit. not even close to enough to regret getting the permit, of course, but for mori as a person, it had to be painful.

but mori would probably never acknowledge that emotion. it was for the good of the mafia, of yokohama as a whole, after all, and that's the only thing that matters. outwardly, at least.

i think mori is a deeply lonely person and dazai was one of the few people who made a dent in that loneliness - part of the reason why elise now copies some of his personality traits. (and i could make a whole post about elise, i love her so much. elise is such a reflection of his loneliness. you don't create an entire person if you have healthy relationships and aren't a control freak, but i digress.) but his biggest failure was in thinking that dazai was equally lonely, equally alone, and equally willing to put the organization over everyone and everything.

because mori has nothing else other than the mafia. it's both his home and his prison. like he said to chuuya, he's both a leader and a slave to the organization. that will never change.

and as silly as it sounds to blame the difference between them on the power of friendship, it's the only thing that separated dazai from ending up just like mori. except dazai has a capacity for cruelty that mori doesn't and if oda hadn't told dazai to leave the mafia, i think we would've seen the results of that immediately after his death.

anyway. i'm insane about mori and dazai. i think about them so much. their dynamic is one of my favorite relationships in bsd because of the range and ambiguousness of it - it's never even close to familial, way too casual for typical boss/employee while still definitely not friendly, dazai was a complete brat to him most of the time while mori was just amused, and now there's this one-sided absolute hatred while mori holds zero resentment towards dazai so you can't really even call them enemies. there's no label for whatever they have going on. and i'm not normal about it. at all.

[fairy-writes]

Pspspspspspsp I saw that you write for balance unlimited 👀

Can I pls have a oneshot of love at first sight with daisuke? There's a lack of Tumblr fics of this anime plsss I beg for more

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Requester: irethepotato

Fandom(s): Millionaire Detective: Balance Unlimited

Pairing(s): Kambe Daisuke x Gender Neutral!Reader

Genre(s): Fluff, pining(?), love at first sight trope

I’d be happy to write for Balance Unlimited! I’m still getting a hand on Daisuke’s character, so this might be OOC, but I’ll try my best!

Also, you are slightly shorter than Daisuke in this. He does wear shoe inserts that make him roughly 5’7”.

__________________________________________________________________________

You saw him at a convention. No, not like ComicCon, but a gala, or rather a business function. He rolled up in a Chevy Corvette and stepped out, handing the keys off to the valet and buttoning the front of his pitch-black tuxedo suitcoat.

He was handsome, with slicked-back dark hair and mysterious eyes hidden behind sunglasses. And… did he have a pierced ear? Even more attractive. 

He had a woman next to him who had stepped out of the passenger side of the sports car. She was dressed in a sleek black dress and long black hair styled in an intricate updo. They looked alike, close enough to be related. You adjusted the hem of your own blazer and turned to grab a glass of champagne. 

There was no point in fantasizing over the unattainable. 

He was way out of your league anyway. 

You join in on the dancing, spinning away with dance partners as the hours pass, and you search for an opening. However, a wrench in your plans is apparent when you are twirled into the arms of the handsome young man you had spotted earlier. 

He’s even more handsome up close, and you can smell his expensive cologne. His sunglasses are nowhere to be found, probably folded away inside the inside pocket of his tux. 

But that’s not what throws a wrench in your plans. Instead, it’s the moment you meet his eyes. They’re a steely blueish-gray and all the more alluring. Fireworks erupt in your belly, and you almost trip over your feet. However, you are quick to recover without him noticing. 

You knew this feeling. It was the feeling of falling in love. You had felt it before, with your first love, who has long gone and left with your heart in pieces. It had taken years to heal yourself, and now you were scared of it breaking again. You couldn’t fall in love! You simply couldn’t!

But as you watch the man’s eyes widen almost inconspicuously, you realize he feels it too and quickly decide to break this off. 

“Sorry, I’ve forgotten something.” You quickly excuse yourself and head toward a side door. But, before you shut the door behind you, you look behind and catch his gaze once again. The door hurriedly closes behind you, and you are locked in a dead sprint. 

It doesn’t take long to find the host’s computer. But someone is already there. The woman who was with the man earlier (you really had to learn their names, this was getting exhausting). She was bent over a keyboard, tapping rapidly and lines of code appeared across the screen. The lights were off, save for the computer monitors (obviously), so you were bathed in blue light. 

The door slams shut behind you, and you jump, the woman does as well, turning, and her gaze flashes with surprise as you meet her eyes. Then you whip around to see who had shut the door, and you spot the man. 

He’s as good-looking as ever. That’s the infuriating part. 

“Do you have what you need?” His voice is deep, alluring, and smooth as honey. Damn it. He just keeps getting more attractive. But never mind that you have things to focus on! The woman unplugs and tosses a flash drive stick to him that he catches without looking. His eyes are trained on you as he slips it into his inside tuxedo pocket.  

“Just who are you?” You say, portraying an air of confidence. After all, you might as well put on a show, right? Throw them off your tracks, and don’t let them see how nervous you are, right?

“Kambe Daisuke. Who are you?” He says—more like demands—and you oblige. Equivalent exchange is polite, right? There’s no need to be rude. He says your name, and you shiver at the sound of it coming from his mouth. It sounded so sexy you couldn’t help but want to hear more. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Daisuke, but I must be going now, so if you’ll excuse me—” His hand catches your wrist and yanks you back as you try to leave. You stumble, looking up into his eyes as your noses brush.

Your lips brush the corner of his own, and you are slipping away before he even registers what’s happening. His eyes are wide and uncharacteristically shocked. The woman behind you chokes on her own saliva as she stands, shocked. 

You’re gone before he realizes the flash drive is gone. You twirl it between your fingers, slip it into your inside pocket, and sprint down the hall. Finally, you make it to your car and peel out of the gala roundabout just as he bursts through the doors. 

His eyes are locked on your disappearing vehicle the entire time. 

Mission accomplished.

[wereah]

Finally decided to be brave and post some work from the WIP of @zombie-eats-world's fic Lost Like a Fox

( if you follow any of my work on @chimeraacademy-comic you know that I tend to finish pages with just background/scene setting before anything else haaaaaa HELP )

I'm gonna rant about this under the cut!

Here be spoilers for Lost Like a Fox! I'm gonna assume you've read the original fic!

Funny story, I've had this fic rotating in my head for almost a year now-- but I only read the rest of the series recently. But.

By then I had already constructed an entire AU of this AU. So. It's different, but not that different and frankly for Lost Like a Fox? The only difference for the audience is going to be Sanji's motivations.

He is A LOT hornier than I think the original authorial intent.

I got the impression in the original that Sanji's trying to arrange a 'meet cute' here in his own messed up way. So I'm taking that and turning it up to 11. Of course, Zoro's . . . Zoroness keep throwing small wrenches into his plans.

His motivations in my comic are similar enough to the original I don't think it matters unless I start doing other stuff with this AU. It's just the mechanics work a little differently.

Which I'm gonna assume that you wanna hear so you've read this far!

Okay so! Dragon is the King of Hell in this one-- Crocodad is still Crocodad, because I genuinely like that premise. And human. I'm still hedging on whether Crocodad raised ASL or not, because I know they're in the AU ( they are who Luffy is taking his weekend trip with instead of Law, like the original )

Why the change?

Because Luffy's dream is to be the King of Hell. Nobody, his entire life, has known wtf this kid is talking about. Ace and Sabo KINDA get it, because they know that Luffy's Different and they keep a pretty good wrap on just HOW different. *insert that gif from the Omen of the nanny in the window*

Anyway, long story short he's gotta defeat the Demonic Warlords to achieve that dream~ In my AU there are no Emperors, which I know sucks, but I'm using this story as practice for 'killing your darlings' and general storycraft. We'll see how far I take it?

Hehehehehhehehehehe

( btw Shanks is a demon hunter I think? )

But like I said, none of this matters for the purposes of this fan comic. It's, other than stuff under the hood, functionally an adaptation of a fanfic that I really, really, really, really, really, enjoyed. So! Um. Yeah. Hi.