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[dreamingdormouse]

Back when Mr. Dormouse was in the Navy, he was for a couple years assigned to Pearl Harbor, as a nuclear mechanic on the submarine engines. (My husband is one of the most brilliant people I know, by the way, that's a very difficult job to get. But also it's hard work, long hours, lots of stress, and not very good pay.)

Shortly before I arrived to join him, his gross-motor twitches became more pronounced. They'd started when he was in training, and gotten stronger over time. He would be thinking about something or working on something, and abruptly his arm would flail out to the side, or his leg would kick like you'd found the right spot to tap with the little reflex hammer.

This was not as dangerous as Gallus's Dad without his glasses and with a gun, but still rather hazardous, as Mr. Dormouse quite often had a wrench in his hand, which was wont to go flying if his arm jerked!

His coworkers teased him about it in the friendly/mean way that is common in the military. He began the process of getting it checked out - the military, for all its flaws, has/had an amazing health care system.

The docs on base ended up deciding that

1) It's not Tourette's (which can manifest physically as well as the more well-known version of accidental cussing)

2) It's very similar, though, but, uh... not actually any of the things in our textbook?

3) Stress makes it worse

4) Sorry, Chief Petty Officer Dormouse, there's nothing else we can do for you

5) But you really shouldn't be in the military anymore

Well that was helpful.

Worse, commanding officers didn't care. Wouldn't hear of discharging him early. On the plus side, the submarine he was assigned to was in drydock for a year or more of preventative maintenance (if it was a car, it would've had an oil change, tires rotated, rust inspection, emissions test, the works), so at least he wasn't underwater like that, on multi-week trips, in a crowded environment 24/7.

The other engineer/mechanics around him knew he wanted to get a medical discharge. They began to joke that they should assign him to stand close to the officers, carrying a knife. Not in a threatening manner, oh no! Just as a tool. It wouldn't be anyone's fault if he just... twitched. And maybe then the officers would get the idea that this guy shouldn't be in the military?

Eventually somebody with some ability to sign papers decided to do so, and Mr. Dormouse was assigned to the equivalent of garden duty - a stint in the quartermaster's office. It took another 6-9 months before he got his discharge, because there wasn't a form for "IDK, I think it's Tourette's-adjacent, should we do another brain scan?" like there is for myopia or a heart murmur.

But at last he got out of the Navy and went to college for nuclear engineering, and it's been more than a decade. Not being in the military took away a lot of the stress, so these days he barely twitches at all. Sometimes it just looks like a full body shiver, and it happens a lot less frequently.

He does tell me that it is quite traditional to get stuck with the pin when a medal is being awarded, so it's possible that Captain Redacted lightly stabbed Gallus's Dad on purpose and as per custom. But it also might've been the whiskey. 🥴

The Hummingbird

The Story of my Father’s Very Brief military career.

Content Warnings: Military, guns, hummingbirds, Profanity, Lots of Profanity, spectacular incompotence, catholicism mention, alcohol mention.

As usual, all names have been changed or redacted to protect people’s privacy.

In the fall of 1969, my Dad was hit by a car and suffered a serious concussion, causing him to miss midterms and put his grade in a hole he wouldn’t be able to recover from, as this was the days before a lot of professorial accountability.  Like a sensible person, he decided to Withdraw for the semester and focus on recovering and maybe take a part-time job to pay for spring tuition, because you could do that back then.

“Son,” My grandfather asked, sitting on the couch with Dad shortly after he was discharged from the hospital. “What about your college deferment? I’m worried about you getting drafted.”

“Dad,” Dad said, filling in job applications. “I’m legally blind without my glasses!  I’d be a danger to anyone around me with a gun.  Even if I get drafted there’s no way in hell I’d pass the medical exam.”

“Don’t swear in my house.” Said Grandpa, under the entirely mistaken impression that the US Military was run with any sort of competence.

Literally a week later my Dad’s draft papers came in, and he reported to his local draft board, driver’s license and doctor’s note in hand to prove He Is Legally Blind Without His Glasses, only to be waved through without so much as a sideways glance by anyone resembling a doctor.

“They must be desperate.”  My dad concluded when he got home that night to pack.

The news was devastating to the family, as both his parents had siblings to WWII.  Grandpa was ready to beg, bribe and otherwise compromise his intensely catholic morals to get Dad out, and Grandma prayed to any available saint that would save her son from the fate of her brothers.  She had quite the collection of saints in her sewing room, some forty figurines and dozens more candles and images, along with some stained glass she’d made herself of saints, landscapes and animals, including a large hummingbird that lived on the sewing room window since they’d moved into the house.

Dad pleaded with them to not do anything they’d regret, and returned to the base for basic training.

Dad’s drill sergeant was a man whose real name was “Ross” but insisted on being called “Bulldog” or “SIR!” by everyone depending on rank.  Dad supposed this might have been a defense mechanism as Bulldog had an intensely jowled and acne-scarred face that did greatly resemble a fighting dog well past their prime.  The image was not helped by the fact that he was constantly smoking rose-flavored tobacco in a pipe that had seen better centuries, and consequently smelled like a terrible combination of trailer park and the women’s perfume counter at Macy’s.

Bulldog was also… not great about following protocol, which is a terrible failing in a Drill sergeant, but Dad supposed at that point in the war Bulldog had become horribly depressed by the sheer numbers of young men he was sending to their deaths and had kind of stopped giving a fuck about their safety and his own.

Which lead to an incident about three weeks into Dad’s training camp when in the middle of a Weapons Qualification lesson, Bulldog pulled Dad’s glasses off and bellowed “YOU WON’T HAVE THOSE COKE BOTTLES WHEN THOSE [incorrect slurs, because there’s no such thing as an informed bigot] BLAST YOUR ASS TO KINGDOM COME.” before stomping off to go change the paper targets, leaving Dad standing there with an M-1, squinting in what he hoped was the general direction of the targets.

To give you an idea of HOW bad my dad’s vision is, I once asked him at what distance things got blurry, and he responded by taking off his glasses, putting his hand up to his face, and slowly moving it back.  He stopped about eight inches from his face and nodded.  

“So I can see my hand from here but I can’t distinguish my fingers.  I think that green blob over there is your mother.”

“I’m in the living room.” called mom. “You’re looking at the blender.”

So it should come as no surprise that as soon as Dad heard someone shouting “Ready! Aim! Fire!” He did precisely that.

Hummingbirds are often mistakenly characterized as Delicate Little Rainbows that are a gift Direct from Heaven when the truth is they’re really Vicious Little Bastards thrown out of Hell for being too Nasty.  

You would be too if you could eat nothing but frappuccinos and the occasional chicken nugget, everything around you was at least the size of a pickup truck and regarded you as a tasty snack, and you were forced to defend your fridge from not only equally vicious rivals but goddamn insects that are bigger than you are.  

Being a hummingbird is awful under normal circumstances, and now there are maniacs with loud machines and projecties as big as you are stomping around and yelling and well-

At that exact moment, one of the nesting hummingbirds, having grown progressively more exasperated with the activity on the base, dive-bombed my father, hurling it’s tiny body directly into his ear and slicing the lobe up, and making him jerk slightly as he fired.

He missed Sergeant Bulldog by mere inches. Dad still isn’t sure if the Hummingbird caused him to miss or put him closer to accidental manslaughter, but it mattered little as Bulldog grabbed him by the head, shrieking in spittle-flying fury-

“ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND?”  He roared.

“YES!!” screamed my father, also hysterical. “SIR THAT’S WHAT THOSE ‘COKE BOTTLES’ ARE FOR SIR!”

Bulldog stopped, suddenly and uncomfortably confronted with the nature of causality.  He only let it stymie him for a moment.  “GET YOUR IDIOT ASS TO THE MEDIC, I’LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER!”

At the medical center, an extremely befuddled doctor dilated Dad’s eyes, took pictures because Dad had the worst case of myopia he’d ever seen and wanted to put him in a medical journal, and asked him:

“What the HELL are you doing here?”

“Very nearly shooting people sir.”

“Well, we can’t have you shooting people while you’re in the army!  I’ll get your medical discharge started.”

Dad decided not to comment on that statement, thanked the doctor, and wandered blindly back to his bunk.

It took them a full thirty days to process Dad’s discharge, perhaps largely due to the fact that actually FINDING the captain was a task for hercules- The man had an almost phobic aversion to his office and a tremendous love of whiskey so actually locating the man and early enough in the day that he was still sober enough to sign anything was a race against time and a battle against the wits of a man determined to get out of work, which is when humanity is at its peak intelligence.

In the meantime, it simply wouldn’t do to let dad bike the five miles back to his home and come back for the paperwork, nor let him sit quietly and not accidentally maim anyone, so he was put on garden duty.  

Supervised by recently-suspended-from-instruction Sergeant “Bulldog” Ross.

By the second day Bulldog had mostly run out of steam, perhaps out of a sense of really, whose fault was that? So He would mostly stand in Dad’s general vicinity, waxing philosophical on the nature of war, government and whatever else he could be crotchety about that day while continuously smoking his rose-flavored tobacco in his pipe.  Dad planted a frankly absurd number of flowers, trying to make a planted display that would spell out the name of the base in eight-foot letters, just in case someone has managed to miss all 824,594,359 signs beforehand.

On day five, perhaps attracted by the bright colors or the stench of artificial rose, the Hummingbirds found the new garden.

At first, it was timid little trips to the edge farthest from Dad and Bulldog, testing this new territory for both risk and bounty, but upon finding it full of sugary goodness, they became bold, getting closer and closer to Dad, zipping in as soon as he got up to get the next flat of flowers, then not waiting for him to finish planting them before they were up in his face, squeaking angrily for him to get out of the way of their lunch.

One male objected to Dad and Bulldog’s presence particularly strongly, dive-bombing and buzzing angrily at them, an ounce and a half of glittery impotent rage.  After a month, he’d gotten quite aggressive, and one day flew directly up to Bulldog’s face to chitter curses at him eye-to-eye, only for Bulldog to take out his pipe and blow a cloud of smoke at him, laughing as the bird tumbled over backwards in midair.

Agitated with the sudden noxious cloud, or perhaps merely a violent psychopath in its own right, the bird flew back, then straight up into the air for a good fifty feet before going into a dive, aimed directly at Bulldog’s face.

Dad doesn’t recall actually moving, only a sense that he ought to do something, and launched himself out of the dirt, arms outstretched to clap and force it off course-

“SHIT! What the hell was that for?”  Demanded Bulldog.

“Well, the hummingbird looked like it was going to attack you, Sir.  So I stopped it.”

“How noble.  What are you standing there like an idiot for?”

“…I think I caught it sir.”  Said Dad, staring at the tiny bill poking out from between his gloves.  The two of them leaned in close as dad very slowly opened his gloves and peered inside.

The hummingbird immediately forced it’s tiny head out to peep furious profanities at them both.

“How is it,”  Bulldog wondered aloud as the hummer continued to curse the both of them for the next seven generations. “That you can’t see to hit the broad side of a barn but can pull a shitty little bird right out of the air?”

“I’m wearing my glasses, Sir.”

Bulldog looked up at him, glaring with such intensity his face ceased to be a face at all and transformed into a dali-esque collection of wrinkles.

“Fuck you. Now go take that damn thing to the other side of the base so it doesn’t come back.”

��Yes sir.”  Dad nodded, nearly saluting out of reflex before remembering that he was holding a live and very angry bird.  It took him several hours to get to the other side of the base, with literally everyone stopping to ask him what the hell he was doing, well I have this bird sir and I was told to release it on the other side of the base- how in hell did your blind ass catch a hummingbird, well I had my glasses on- Fuck you, go ditch that thing already.

At three o'clock on the dot the very next morning, two MPs woke up my dad and told him he needed to report to the front office right away, no time to get dressed, right away right now.

They marched him directly to the main office, barefoot and in his Pajamas to be greeted by not only Sergeant “Bulldog” ross, but nearly every officer on the base, including the lieutenant and the Captain, all of whom were… attempting to stand at attention with varying degrees of success, most weaving slightly, some snorting with poorly-concealed laughter, and the entire room reeking of booze.

“GENTLEMEN!”  hiccuped the lieutenant, before shaking himself and continuing, “WE ARE GATHERED HERE TODAY TO HONOR OUR ‘COMRADE’ -snort, giggle- IN ARMS -louder derisive laughter- FOR HIS BRAVERY AND SERVICE IN THE FACE OF EXTREME DANGER-”

“IN THE BEAK OF EXTREME DANGER!” Howled one of the assembled officers.  

“-AND FOR HIS SERVICE IN DEFENDING AN OFFICER OF THE UNITED STATES ARMY.  I AM ~SO~ PLEASED THAT WE HAVE CAPTAIN [REDACTED] HERE WITH US TO PRESENT THIS MEDAL.”

He turned to the Captain, who took out a small box and motioned Dad forward.  Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a chocolate box from See’s Candies.

“[REDACTED], in honor of your brave and frankly improbable service in the defense of Euge- sorry, Sergeant Ross, and the capture of a dangerous wild animal, we award you this medal-  The Flying Purple Bastard.”

He opened the chocolate box to reveal this*:

(Image Description: A piece of cardboard cut out approximately in the silhouette of a hummingbird, by someone with only a passing familiarity with what hummingbirds look like.  The cardboard has been haphazardly covered in tinfoil and cartoon eyes drawn on.  It’s attached to a scrap of ribbon and a safety Pin.)

Which was then pinned crookedly to Dad’s nightshirt, after accidentally stabbing him a bit, saluted him as someone attempted to play the bugle but made a rather melodious farting noise instead, then slapped Dad in the face with a manilla folder full of papers and shouted. “DISMISSED!”

“Dismissed, sir?”

“Those are your discharge papers.” Said Bulldog. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Yes, Sir!”

At which point Dad biked home in the rain, and thus ends my father’s military career.

*Pictured here is actually The Flying Purple Bastard 2.0, as the original was destroyed when partially eaten and fully regurgitated by one of the cats.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Paypal, as due to health concerns, telling funny stories on the internet is my ONLY means of income.  Thank you!

[esote-rika]

Could I request Spencer with a really socially awkward reader(gn) who has to meet the team for the first time and just sort ends up hiding behind Spencer?

Feel free to ignore this if you're not up for it :)

Anon, thank you so much for this! I’m sorry it took a little long, but I hope you still enjoy it <3 Cute little drabble of Spencer being the best bf ever.

Contents: Mentions of alcohol, but otherwise, it’s just fluff!!! gn!reader.

Your hands are clammy when he takes them, a clear sign of your discomfort. Immediately, Spencer’s face softens, his features dappled pink and blue from the colorful lights of the bar. Neither of you drink, but his team is celebrating a case they successfully closed, and he’d mentioned it would be a good time to introduce you. The atmosphere is relaxed, after all, inhibitions dulled by alcohol and the knowledge of a job well done. 

For them, at least. You are operating under something entirely different. Nerves. Lots of it.

“You made it.” Spencer says brightly, before he wraps an arm around you and ushers you to their table. His team is all bright, welcoming smiles, and teasing remarks when they see you. You recognize them from the pictures, this group of people he’s come to know as his family. The cheeriest woman, Penelope Garcia walks up and gives you a big hug. Not expecting it, you stand there awkwardly, too busy wondering if you should return the gesture, but by the time you make up your mind, she’s already pulling away. 

Oops. You bite back a wince at your social blunder and manage a smile. 

“Spencer has told me all about you.” You say over the loud, thumping music. 

A chorus of replies. He spends all his time talking about you too, and You two are so cute, and I can’t believe Spence didn’t introduce you to us sooner! Lovely platitudes that you nod at. What exactly do you say to them beyond a thank you? Desperately, you wrack your brain for responses. Be witty, you chide yourself, charming. Make them like you.

But your words fail you in this moment, as they so often do. Small talk seems hollow, perfunctory instead of sincere, so you smile and nod politely as the comments continue around you. The more they go on about how it is to meet you, the more you seem to shrink into Spencer, smiling politely in response. You hope, desperately, that it's enough.

Once the initial round of introductions dies down, Spencer pulls you to a quieter table. The back of your neck is warm from all the attention, and you're worried his team may think you're being too clingy or antisocial. Surprisingly, his team doesn’t comment on it, moving on to get drinks and join the dance floor. Other people may have found it rude to retreat like this, but truthfully, you’re glad for the reprieve. 

Spencer’s hand is warm and heavy on your hip, pulling you tightly to his side. “Are you okay?”

You hum, nodding against his shoulder. “Your team’s nice.” 

“They are,” you feel his lips on your forehead, “But they can be a lot.”

You peak over his shoulder to look at the dance floor. Derek is in the middle of it with a few ladies, while JJ, Emily, and Penelope have their own little dance cluster. “They’re nice.” you repeat, “They just seemed excited.”

He chuckles, “Mhm, that’s because they’ve been wanting to meet you for weeks now.” 

You feel him pull back, and you have to fight back the urge to cling to him. He meets your gaze, brown eyes warm and glittering in the dim light. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not too overwhelmed?”

“I’m fine. I’m glad to have met them.”

He smiles, pleased that his reminders for his team had worked. He’d told them of your tendency to be awkward around new people and had asked them to accommodate it when they meet you. He’s just as nervous and eager for your introduction to be nice, but your comfort is of utmost importance to him. 

For a brief moment, he worried it wouldn’t work, but his team is gracious enough (and so excited over the fact that he has a relationship) that they’ve put on their best behavior and backed off immediately once they caught signs of your discomfort. You’re easy enough to read, and they’re highly trained profilers. 

“They already adore you.” he says, nose buried in your hair. 

You laugh, “You sure? I don’t know if I’ve made the best impression.”

“I’m sure.” his lips ghost across your hairline, “You weren’t even that bad. They’re used to so much worse.”

“Is that so?”

He nods, ducking down to press his lips to yours. “Need I remind you that they have to deal with me?”

Even more laughter escapes you, and you’re immediately put at ease, even more so than before. How could you not, when your boyfriend knows exactly what to say? Perhaps not to other people, but he’s so attuned to you and your needs that you just kiss him back in thanks.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

When You're Ready

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: being a single mom, the hard side of being a parent, overstimulation?

Summary: Being a single mother hasn’t always been easy, and life catches up to you whether you want it to or not. You have so much on your plate that you’re not even thinking about being in a relationship. Spencer likes you and he makes it clear that he’ll wait for you no matter how long it takes.

Square Filled: huddle for warmth for @anyfandomgoesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Today could not be any worse than it is right now. You didn’t have time to brush your hair, you barely got your teeth brushed, your clothes are wrinkly because you forgot to iron them last night, the heater is broken in your house so all your daughter does is complain that it’s too cold, and you’re trying to get both her and yourself ready for the day.

“Mama, I’m hungry!” she whines.

“Food is coming, baby,” you say.

As you try not to cry, you plate more breakfast for her and set it on her tray. She immediately digs into the pancakes like she’s never been fed before. The TV is blaring in the living room as it plays yet another episode of Spongebob, her favorite TV show. Right now, that little sponge is giving you a massive headache. The coffee machine beeps for the tenth time, and you have an overwhelming urge to chuck it out the window. The machine has been broken for quite some time now but will make a cup of coffee every once in a while.

Today is not one of those days.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings and you just about stop and cry right there. What now? Who could this possibly be while you’re already running late for work? You leave Casey in the kitchen and walk to the front door. On the way, you almost slip on one of her toys, and you kick it harder than you should have. You open the front door and see your housekeeper standing there. You barely have enough to pay her since you had to downgrade a bunch of stuff since the divorce, but she stayed and accepted the new salary.

You’re honestly not sure what you would do without her.

“Oh, Shelly, it’s you.”

“Rough morning?” Tears well in your eyes at her question because you’re forced to think how this morning has been in a sea of bad ones. “Oh, Y/N, don’t worry about a thing. I’m here now.”

“Thanks,” you whisper and close the door behind her. You turn down the TV so that you don’t have to shout at Shelly. “Um, Casey has a field trip today. I looked at the weather and it’s going to be cold so make sure she packs a jacket. She’ll fight it but make sure she has one, okay?”

“Y/N, how long have I been looking after this little girl? I’ll be okay. Don’t you have work?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Here, let me.”

She fixes your hair until it looks presentable, and you give her a warm smile.

“Thank you. The coffee machine is broken. I’ll pick one up on the way home.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get a new one. I have a few other things to pick up at the store.”

“Okay. Bye, Casey! Mommy is off to work. I love you!”

“I love you!” she sings back.

Despite how hard it’s being a single mom, she always brings a smile to your face. Not only is it hard being a single mom, but you work in the FBI where your job is demanding and requires a lot out of you. It’s why you needed to hire Shelly. Before, she was here because your ex-husband paid to have her clean the house. You both had jobs and weren't home enough to keep up with it. Now with Casey, she’s a blessing in disguise.

Hotch makes it look so easy. Since Haley was killed, he’s been doing a good job at raising his son and being the Unit Chief. He has Beth and Haley’s sister, but it’s just him most of the time. You have no one but Shelly, and she only comes three times a week. Casey’s father fled the second you told him you were pregnant so you had to do this entire thing by yourself. All Casey knows is the team because you have them over ever so often.

She’s more familiar with Hotch since he brings Jack over for playdates because they are around the same age. Though, she loves Spencer more than anyone on the team. You’re only friends with him but he’s expressed interest in you. He’s made it clear that you’re on his mind, but you can’t be dating right now. There’s no time for boyfriends or flings or whatever Spencer would be. Your life is too complicated. Add in a toddler and a lawsuit for child support, and it’s too much for someone else to handle.

You told him this much, and he seems okay with being your friend. You still catch him watching you and blushing when you give him a compliment, but he’s been respectful of your boundaries.

You walk into work and notice everyone inside the briefing room. You practically throw your shit down on your desk and run to the briefing room.

“So sorry I’m late. Traffic,” you white-lie.

“It’s okay. We’re just going over updates on our cases and finishing files,” Hotch says.

The B Team must be out right now, and you sag your shoulders in relief. You need a chill day right now more than anything. After a rundown of the open cases, you take yours back to your desk to get started on them. Spencer does the same but he approaches your desk from the front.

You barely look up at him. “Oh, hey, Spencer.”

“Rough morning?” You scoff but don’t say anything. You don’t want to hurt his feelings. “How is Casey doing?”

“She’s good. She has a field trip today at the aquarium.”

Spencer is about to say a fact when he sees the look on your face. Maybe he shouldn’t be himself right now.

“That should be fun.” Again, you don’t respond. All you want to do is focus on your work and not on the headache you have. Instead of going back to his desk, he sits next to yours. “You know, if you ever need someone to watch Casey, I’m more than happy to do it. Even for an entire weekend. It’ll give you time to yourself.” You stop typing and look at him. “Only if it’s okay with you, of course. Or maybe I can come over and hang with her while you get some sleep or something.”

“What are you doing?”

“What? I’m just trying to help.”

It’s the way he said it that makes your back crack under the pressure. You know he doesn’t deserve this but you’re saying it anyway because he’s here.

“You’re not her father, Spencer!”

“I know, but--”

“Look, that’s nice of you to offer but I have been raising her by myself since she was born. Even before she was born. I didn’t need help then and I don’t need it now. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

You gather your finished files and walk away from your desk. Tears threaten to spill but you won’t let it. Not now.

“Okay,” Spencer says, his voice small.

Yep, you hate yourself now. Truth be told, he kind of scares you. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a man, and that scares you. He’s safe and predictable and dependable, everything you never had, not even with Casey’s father. He messed you up so badly that you learned you can’t depend on anyone for anything.

Not even Spencer.

After putting your files away, you slip into the bathroom and just cry. All this stress shouldn’t be good for you. The bathroom door opens and you immediately wipe the tears away. JJ frowns when she sees the tears, and you splash some water on your face to get the redness to go away.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you could come over to my place at two instead of four. Will is having his boys come at two, and I figured my girls could be there at the same time to get coordinated with them.”

“What?”

“Please don’t tell me you forgot about my wedding. It’s next weekend. You’re my maid of honor.”

Shit. You completely forgot about that. You’ve been so focused on not breaking down that her wedding has completely slipped your mind.

“No, I didn't forget.” You wince at the lie. “Okay, it slipped my mind, but I will be there. Two, not four.” You’re about to leave when you remember Shelly telling you she is going out of town next weekend. You don’t have money for a babysitter. “Would it be okay if I brought Casey? Shelly is going to be out of town.”

“Yes, the more the merrier. I love Casey, and I know Henry does, too.”

“Thank you, JJ,” you sigh.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m just stressed is all. I don’t think I slept more than a few hours each night, my hair needs a cut, I need an everything shower, and I don’t have time to do any of it.”

“Yeah, motherhood can be tough.”

“Tell me about it. Not to mention, I think I might have hurt Spencer’s feelings. I yelled at him. He’s just trying to help.”

“He’s a big boy. He’ll get over it. What did he say?”

“He offered to look after Casey for a weekend.”

“It might be good to take him up on the offer.”

You shrug. “I gotta get back to work.” You leave the bathroom and notice Spencer at his own desk. “Spencer?” He looks up and smiles when he sees you, making you feel even worse than you do. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or said those things.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. You were just trying to help.”

“The offer still stands if and when you want to use it. Think about it.”

The rest of the week is pretty chill since the B Team is still out, giving you and Spencer more time to strengthen your relationship. He shows up to work with an extra coffee, a breakfast sandwich, and a smile just for you. He wants to make sure you eat because that’s the only thing he can do right now to help you.

On the day of the wedding, you know he is going to be right there in the audience. He agreed to look after Casey while you stand next to JJ, so you’re getting her dressed in her pretty pink sparkle dress.

“So, while Mommy is up with Aunt JJ, you’re going to be seated next to Spencer in the audience. Right there in the front.”

“I like Spencer,” she grins.

You smooth down your hair and smile. “Me, too.”

“Are you gonna marry him?”

“No,” you laugh.

“I bet he’d make a great dad.”

You choose not to say anything to that and lead her down the aisle where Spencer is seated. The wedding is located in JJ’s own backyard, but it’s perfect. It’s everything she’s ever wanted and more. Casey has a strict bedtime but the wedding goes past that, so naturally, she gets cranky by the time the reception happens. She’s hungry and restless, two things a toddler should never be at the same time.

“Just another hour and I promise, we can go home. I promised JJ we’d be here.”

“I’m hungry, Mama, and I’m bored.”

“Hey, what’s going on here?”

You look up and see Spencer approaching you two.

“Sorry, she skipped her nap today, and it’s past her bedtime. She’s just bored.”

“May I?” You nod. “Hey, Casey? Would you like to dance? Just one, and then maybe we can get some cake.”

“Okay,” she grins.

Spencer takes her to the dancefloor while you stay seated at one of the tables. He whispers something to her and she eagerly steps onto his shoes. He dances around in circles with her on his shoes, and she giggles happily. It doesn’t matter how much of a shitty week you’ve been having. She’s smiling and laughing and that means you’re doing a pretty damn good job. Spencer picks her up and holds her close so he can dance properly, and she leans her head on his chest.

Would it be so bad to let him in? Maybe not, but you’re clearly not in the headspace for it. Is he willing to wait? You don’t want to keep him from other relationships even though it doesn’t look like he’s rushing to be in one.

After two songs are over, Spencer lets her down. He whispers something to her and she runs off in search of either Henry, Jack, or both. He walks over to you and holds out his hand.

“Care to dance?”

“Yes,” you smile.

You grab his hand and he brings you to the dancefloor. The next song is a slow one, so he pulls you in close to him. One hand in yours and the other low on your back. Has he always smelled this good?

“Thank you for what you did. She likes you a lot.”

“I like her a lot.” He dips his head lower so that his forehead barely touches the top of your head. “I like her mother, too.” Your heart thumps but in a good way. It’s like everyone else around you disappears until it’s only you and Spencer. “I’ll wait however long you need me to.”

You look up at him with tears. “What?”

“If time and space is what you need, I’ll give it to you. Just know that I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“You might be waiting a while,” you whisper.

“I’m a patient man.”

You rest your head on Spencer’s chest and let the music guide you. He runs his hand up and down your back, creating a safe and warm aura about him.

“You make me feel safe,” you whisper.

Whether he hears it or not, he doesn’t respond. He just continues to dance with you long after the song has ended.

x

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[muletia]

miniformers is taking over my brain. I need to cuddle mini Starscream, bumblebee, Megatron, and knockout and kiss their little foreheads, Aghdfbsjfhsb I’m going insane

𝐦𝐢��𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝟑 ༘⋆✿

bumblebee, starscream, knockout

word count: 1250

A little manipulator (affectionate), who has absolutely no objections to using his charm to coax a few kisses or cuddles out of you

Bee knows he's adorable. He’s well aware of the effect his big, puppy-like optics have on you, and if he really wanted to, he could ask for absolutely anything, and you’d agree without hesitation. So it's no surprise that when he gets shrunk down, you find yourself completely incapable of refusing him anything

At first, however, he approaches the idea of using this to his advantage with restraint — at least until he fully accepts that being tiny is his new reality and that he has to learn how to deal with this new perspective. He stays close because he feels most comfortable in your company and can hide behind you whenever Optimus' towering height suddenly becomes overwhelming

Exploiting your bursts of affection comes later when he realizes just how hard it is for you to resist showering his entire face with kisses and scooping him into your arms at every possible opportunity. He enjoys this reversal of roles, especially since he used to be the cuddle-bug in your relationship. Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s going to give up hugging you on his own terms — you often find yourself with a few extra pounds clinging to your leg whenever Bee feels like getting some affection

All it takes is for you to get momentarily distracted — maybe you’re trying to discuss this strange height-changing situation with Ratchet, sharing your observations and thoughts, when Bee is already tightening his servo around the sleeve of your shirt, demanding your attention. It's convenient and much more effective than verbally calling for you because the moment he tugs at your clothing, he’s guaranteed a kiss or a pat on the helm

He follows you everywhere and wants to be a part of all your plans for the day. You could be working, and Bee will still be cuddled up against you, finally able to sit on your lap without worrying about crushing it. I can totally see him crawling under your hoodie too, trying to get even closer to you, to experience a level of closeness he never could before

He won’t mind staying like this forever if it means receiving affection from you at every possible moment <3

He bolts before you can even let out a single coo in his direction

Starscream absolutely despises this new state of affairs. He’s become defenseless, easy to overlook, far too vulnerable to aggression from other bots who, in this form, could wipe him out in a nanoklik. He’s fallen to the very bottom of the food chain, which means that under no circumstances can he let himself be seen

He’d like to hide from you too, and from your untamed need to treat him like a sparkling, but the most he can manage is transforming and flying up to a higher level, where he can observe you safely from above without having to endure your cooing about how "cute" and "adorable" he is

That doesn’t mean he’ll stay silent, oh no. You’re going to hear plenty of complaints and theatrics, dramatic laments about the horror of remaining in this pitiful form forever, and screeching about how humans can possibly function while being tiny all the time. He’ll also expect sympathy, tears even, shed over his misfortune, so don’t think you can just ignore his unproductive, egocentric monologue. The moment you stop paying attention, he’ll call you out for it, accusing you of not caring, of being selfish — do you even want to help him? Or do you secretly hope he’ll stay this pathetic size forever just so you can continue tormenting him?

He just needs some time before he exhausts himself with all the dramatics and the consequences of his sudden size change finally catch up to him. The helplessness, the inability to fend off sudden threats, the need for support, because there’s no one else he can rely on but you. And so, he descends from his safe height and returns to you, warning you that he absolutely refuses to be treated like a sparkling

It’s a shame that his whole independent and self-sufficient facade crumbles the moment you press a kiss to his forehead, right at the base of his red crest, and coo sweetly, murmuring that you just can’t help yourself. Starscream manages one more outburst before another kiss silences him a little. And the next one makes him temporarily abandon all plans of immediately finding a way to return to his normal size

Perhaps he can allow himself to be adored by you for just a little while, can’t he?

That little while seems to stretch into eternity as you pull him close, hugging him tightly, unable to resist with such an adorable mech right in front of you. And maybe, just for a moment, he lets himself feel loved, without having to initiate touch himself, completely absorbed in the affection you pour into the touch-starved void in his spark

Unfortunately, he quickly remembers that while you make him feel safe, he can’t allow himself to stay in this form. No matter how wonderful it is to be wrapped up in your arms, he needs to return to his normal size — not just to match his ego but also to protect you and have any chance at victory

He hates this whole situation just as much as the rest of them — until he realizes you’re much more willing to give him attention in this form

Knockout values compliments from you and absolutely loves receiving them. He relishes every second of your attention, using it to stroke his enormous ego. Especially since, normally, you’re not too eager to spend time with him after he so boldly barged into your life and unilaterally decided that he was the most important part of it

So this sudden shrinking? It’s an unmissable opportunity for him to bask in the attention you now lavish upon him — even if, after a while, your incessant cooing starts to grate on his nerves when it’s not about his attractiveness but rather about how “cute” he is. Could you go back to praising his exquisitely polished finish? He didn’t spend all that time buffing himself to perfection just for you to completely disregard it in favor of fawning over his “adorable” faceplate

And while he drinks in your compliments like the finest energon, your constant, relentless attempts to touch him with your dirty, greasy human hands? Those are much less appreciated. You’re smudging his flawless paint job, leaving fingerprints all over him. Do you really have the patience to keep polishing him over and over again? Surely, at some point, you’ll get bored of trying to hug him and smother his entire faceplate and helm with kisses, right?

But when your wave of affection actually subsides, Knockout suddenly realizes that he appreciates your attention in all its forms. He immediately goes on the offensive, dynamically trying to draw your focus back to him, even if that means sacrificing his freshly polished shine and straddling your stomach just to pin you down and squeeze a few more kisses out of you

Oh, and by the way, he's definitely taking a few selfies with your phone. Just in case he ever needs to blackmail you with his “adorable little face,” as you so fondly called it, should you ever refuse to visit him on the Nemesis

[aventurineswife]

Hii! I hope you're having a nice day :D

Can I please request SAHRS being able to listen to Reader simping over them during gameplay? How would they react to their creator swooning over them?

Anyways, remember to drink water and eat something if you haven't yet! I love your writing style <3

My back... 😔🙏

It starts as a normal day. The Museum of Divinity is quiet, the stars shine as usual, and the characters go about their routines.

And then—

"OH MY GOD, LOOK AT THEM. THEY'RE SO FINE."

A pause.

Everyone stops moving.

Wait.

Was that… you?

The divine, all-powerful Creator… SIMPING???

Chaos erupts.

Welt: Drops his pen. Adjusts his glasses like he misheard something.

Himeko: Chokes on her coffee.

Himeko's smirk is IMMEDIATE. "Oh? You have favorites, dear Creator?"

Welt tries to act composed. But his ears are red.

They both pretend to be unaffected, but inside? SCREAMING.

Blade STOPS FUNCTIONING.

"Did… did they just call me fine?"

He won't admit it, but his grip on his sword tightens.

Dan Heng freezes mid-action.

If you’re swooning over him, his face is burning.

If you’re swooning over Blade, he glances at him with mild betrayal.

They don’t speak about it. But they think about it. A lot.

Aventurine? Smug. So smug.

"Well, well, well… seems like our Creator has excellent taste."

Sunday? LIVING FOR IT.

"Oh? You adore me so? Say more, divine one."

Sunday basks in your words. Aventurine teases relentlessly.

If you simp for someone else?

Aventurine: "A shame. You could have had me, dear Painter."

Sunday: "A tragic oversight, truly. But worry not! You may still admire me."

They’re never letting you live this down.

Kafka smirks immediately.

"Oh, how cute. Do go on, dear."

Black Swan tilts her head, thinking deeply.

"A divine being… capable of adoration? Fascinating."

They start analyzing every word.

How often do you compliment them?

Which characters do you favor the most?

What tone do you use? Flustered? Playful? Devoted?

Kafka savors every second.

Black Swan tries to understand why your affection feels so… real.

Luocha bows slightly. "A rare honor to be admired by divinity."

He’s calm outside. Internally? He’s thinking about it too much.

Jing Yuan chuckles. "You wound me, dear Creator. I had no idea you held such affections."

Lazy smirk, but his heart skips a beat.

If you simp for someone else?

Jing Yuan: "Truly a shame. I thought I was the favorite."

Luocha: "Ah… I see. A tragic fate, indeed."

They’re too smooth about it, but deep down? They’re blushing.

March 7th: SHRIEKS.

"OMG, SAME."

Sparkle: LOSES HER MIND.

"Finally! The Creator speaks the truth!"

They immediately gossip.

If you simp for Jing Yuan? → "I KNEW HE WAS A CREATOR FAVORITE!"

If you simp for Blade? → "Oooo, the dark and broody type, huh?"

They’re so entertained by your reactions. They start listening in more often.

EVERYONE starts listening more carefully.

Characters start acting up more in battle, hoping you’ll say something again.

Some get competitive. ("You called THEM fine? What about me?")

Some get smug. ("You’re completely obsessed with me, aren’t you?")

Some get flustered and pretend they didn’t hear it.

No matter what—

You can NEVER take it back.

Okay guys, no more SAHSRAU anymore. It was fun knowing everyone of you. We shall meet next year 🥰💖

[nylauninterrupted]

CL16 x Reader [The Vampire who Enjoyed Brownies]

before reading: I'm getting back into writing, so this might lack depth, please be patient with me<3 As for requests, you can still send them in, I'm just slow at working through them! Love, Nyla

summary: A handsome man moved in next door. After he introduced himself you two clicked, to the point where you'd often hang out after work. One evening you brought him brownies and came across a teacup with bloody residue in his sink...

content warnings: vampire!Charles, biting, descriptions of anatomy, mentions of blood, blowjob, smut smut smut, unprotected sex, dom!Charles, non proofread

word count: 3672

We've all heard of vampires. Vile, stealthy creatures, lurking in the shadows, craving, yearning for the blood of innocent humans. Their claws are sharp and twisted, making them perfect to ravage the human body. Their teeth are rotten and yellow, their fangs make them unable to close their mouth fully.

They (very conveniently) only come out at night, providing the best solution to children's curiosity, causing them to be scared to come out from under the covers, until dawn. At least in my day it worked, making the girls from the countryside frightened of even taking a step out the door after midnight.

Well, actual vampires are slightly different, from the tales we have been told before bed for centuries. They certainly do come out during the day. Their nails aren't exactly claw-like, most of them actually take care of them very well. Their teeth is like any other, the fangs appearing only when they feel the need to feed.

Vampires are more subtle than stories say, ravaging people's bodies by sinking their hands in their guts is a bit too messy for them. Not every vampire's goal is to kill the victim. Some are actually quite tame, choosing to find a lover that will understand their nature and feeding on them occasionally.

Animal blood is the trend right now, as morality and awareness of human emotion increased over the years.

It's a common misconception that vampires feed on blood only. In reality, they need different kinds of nutrition just like we do, just accompanied by a bit of hemoglobin. My boyfriend for example is a fan of brownies.

When a guy moved into the apartment next to yours, the one that had been empty for at least a couple of months, you didn't think much about it. Why would you, really?

You just got off work when he knocked on your door and introduced himself. His stance was a bit awkward and looked uncomfortable. It took a few minutes of chatting before his shoulders relaxed.

His name was Charles, and he was a bit older. He looked about twenty-seven, dressed in an elegant way, almost old-fashioned; you've only seen him wearing a hoodie once. Otherwise, his casual was most men's elegant. Which you appreciated, really; the turtlenecks, coats, and occasional necklaces complemented his beauty well.

You exchanged numbers, and all was well. The texts you sent to him were always sweet and polite. His responses were always punctuated, yet still quite charming.

Everything worked out fine between the two of you; you were a bit surprised to have a neighbour who took time to get to know you and wanted to spend time with you. You didn't mind really, especially considering your way to destress—whenever you felt on edge, you'd whip up some baked goods or some kind of dish.

It became your routine to send a quick text to Charles, proposing to have a bite. Although now, thinking about it, your choice of words was quite ironic.

So there you were, on a quiet and rainy Tuesday evening, knocking on your now favourite neighbour's door.

"I'll be right there!" His soft voice sounded from behind the door. You smiled to yourself, biting the inside of your lip a little. You found him very charming and felt comfortable around him, to the point where you looked forward to spending some time with him after work.

He opened the door, standing in front of you in some simple jeans paired with a white shirt and a long-sleeve beige polo over it. It looked simple, yet he wore it so well.

"Hi," he spoke, his smile audible in his voice. He enjoyed the evenings spent with you as well. More than you knew.

"Hi," you replied in the same manner, a smile forming on your face. "I made brownies."

His face lit up visibly as he looked at the plate of freshly baked brownies that you were holding. He smiled and looked back at your face, admiring it for a second or two.

"Would you like to come in?" he asked, taking the opportunity to spend more time with you and get to know you better. He grew quite fond of you over these past few weeks.

"I'd really like that." You smiled and walked in. He closed the door behind her while you went to the kitchen and set the brownies down on the counter.

He clearly didn't expect a visit tonight; his apartment was a bit more messy than usual. You didn't mind, though; you smiled a bit at some unfinished work sitting on the table next to his laptop.

Just as Charles walked into the kitchen, you turned towards the sink. Seeing your movement, his eyes widened. He sped up, trying to take your attention away from it.

"No, wait..." he started, his voice filled with sudden desperation, just as you looked down into it. You saw a pretty teacup with some dark residue at the very bottom of it.

"Don't worry, your kitchen is not that messy," you replied reassuringly, thinking that he is just worried that you might judge him for the mess.

Just as he worried, you leaned a bit towards the sink, intending to wash the cup and help him out a little, when a metallic scent hit you. It was weirdly familiar, and something in your mind clicked as your fingertips locked on the teacup's rim.

You looked back at Charles and saw something close to fright in his expression. There was sheer anxiety present in his green eyes, making them seem darker than usual. He didn't try to stop you anymore; it was too late; you both knew that.

You brought the teacup closer to your nose, taking a whiff, to make sure that was the source of the smell. It was easy to identify the remnants of the liquid in it as blood. You couldn't mistake it for anything else.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm down. He half expected you to run by the time he opened them again. He didn't dare to hope for anything besides fear from you. But once he did open them, he found you still there, standing in his kitchen, with a teacup in your hand.

"It's animal blood," he spoke quietly, with a soft pleading to it. "I promise you. I can explain."

You turned around and started washing the teacup for him, without saying anything just yet. You didn't know what to say after all. It was hard to believe that your neighbour would drink blood. He wasn't a psycho, you knew that, which is why there was only one possible explanation for it.

"I'm... I need blood to survive." Charles admitted, watching you as you moved in his kitchen, "I am a vampire. I'm sorry."

You paused and turned back to look at him. You still didn't understand the situation; maybe you just couldn't comprehend it. But despite a reasonable weariness you felt, you also trusted your own instinct. And your instinct was that Charles isn't a bad person.

"Why are you sorry?" You asked, "It's not like it's your fault, no? I mean, I didn't find you sucking someone dry or anything; it's... It's just a teacup. With animal blood."

Charles looked at you with surprise, disbelief almost. He never would have expected this level of understanding from anyone. Anyone. Even though he considered you a friend and a good neighbour, he couldn't even imagine that you would be okay with what he was.

"You're... I didn't expect you to be... Okay with it. Not just like that." He spoke, looking at you with a newfound kind of fondness. Sure, you were cute before and your personality was great, but this... This sort of behaviour just made him like you more.

"So... do you only like blood and accept the brownies out of politeness, or are they actually enjoyable?" you asked, in an attempt to put him at ease

He read your intentions correctly and smirked a little, letting out a breathy, amused laugh, with slight relief in it as well.

"They are absolutely spectacular. I promise." Charles smiled, tilting his head at you, taking in the view. He couldn't get enough of you. Your smiles, words, all of it. To him, you were as beautiful and as important as the sun was to the moon.

"I expected you to run," he admitted, his eyes softening a bit as he kept looking in your eyes, while his shoulders began to relax slowly, the anxiety finally leaving his body.

"I like spending time with you too much to pass up on it just because of vampirism." You made a joke without much thinking, not realising how... intimate your words might have sounded.

"Oh, really?" Charles asked, a smirk appearing on his face once more. "You like me that much?" 

You hesitated, looking away for a moment. You just found out that Charles, your handsome, sweet neighbour who you grew so fond of, also happened to be a vampire. And strangely enough, you didn't mind it.

'To hell with' it'—you thought.

"More than you know," you answered, your voice growing more serious and genuine, as you gazed back into his eyes again. Charles's expression changed in a similar way as yours; he understood what you were getting at.

"Do you have something to tell me?" He asked in a low, soft voice, taking a couple of slow, careful steps towards you, as if testing the waters for now.

"I don't know," you replied, taking a small step towards him as well. "How would you react if I did?"

Charles's eyes never left yours, not even for a second. It was as if you were the only thing that ever existed. Everything else just didn't matter in that moment.

"I'd be thrilled," he responded shamelessly, getting closer, their bodies very close to one another. He was now looking down at you, the height difference being more obvious, as you were in close proximity.

"Would you like to have a proper date with me?" you asked, deciding not to beat around the bush. You wanted him. You wanted him badly. "With the possibility of a relationship in mind."

Charles's face lit up as well as he took one last step closer to you, completely erasing the gap between you. He placed his hands on your arms, looking deep into your eyes.

"I would love that," he answered, smiling at you, "And can I kiss you?"

"Just kiss me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, as you used a hair clip to put your hair up. You gave him a knowing smile, making him a bit surprised. He didn't expect you to be that confident.

"While I would love to have you, I don't have any condoms at hand. I didn't exactly prepare for this." He murmured, walking closer and nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

"I was asking in case you would like to bite me," you laughed quietly, "but I guess sleeping together wouldn't be so bad either. I'm on the pill."

Charles opened his eyes and leaned away to take a closer look at you. His olive skin flushed just slightly; he looked embarrassed.

"Ah. Sorry, I didn't mean to..." He started speaking, not wanting to make you feel like all he wanted with you was sex.

"I know, Charlie," you interrupted him firmly. "I'm not worried about that. Besides... I wouldn't tell you about the pill if I didn't want to entertain your idea."

"Aren't you uncomfortable though? Having sex with a vampire, who could very well only want your body and blood..." Charles spoke, knowing how most people would perceive this situation.

"I know that is not the case. Besides... Even if it was, who says you'd be the only one getting something out of it?" You whispered, smiling faintly as you reached out to touch his arm. You began rubbing small circles on it, your eyes focused on him entirely.

"You're..." he began, eyeing your fingers for a second. "More confident than I imagined. I can't say it isn't a turn-on."

Your eyes were like little firecrackers, shining in the dimly lit kitchen. Your lips had a shade of raspberries from a lip tint you applied right before knocking on his door. You were simply breathtaking.

"Uh-huh." You smirked, getting even closer, almost touching his chest. "What else about me turns you on, then?"

Despite your bold words, your voice remained ever so gentle and soft, melodic almost. It was soothing and comfortable, a stark contrast to what was slowly turning into dirty talk.

"Your eyes are nice." Charles whispered, making the move to finally make your bodies touch. "So pretty... And so deep... I could get lost in them."

His touch grew confident as his fingers slipped under your shirt, and his large warm hands began massaging the slightly cold skin on your back, making you shiver.

"Don't get me started on your face," he continued in a low, husky voice. "Such a pretty little thing... So young, yet it feels like your beauty is eternal... I wonder what it would look like, twisted in pleasure..."

"You could always find out," you replied cheekily, playing with his small silver necklace. "I don't mind." 

Charles eyed your fingers wrapped around the chain around his neck and gently grabbed your wrist before putting it close to his lips. Conveniently, your blouse had bell sleeves, so he had immediate access to your skin. He kept looking at you as he began planting small kisses, from your palm to your arm, getting closer and closer to you. 

As his lips inched closer and closer to your neck, his hands found their way on your back again, only this time Charles swiftly untied your corset blouse before carefully sliding it off you, leaving your torso in only a bra.

"You smell delicious," he murmured, burying his head in your neck again. "So delicious... Is that vanilla I smell?"

"Yeah," she replied, and before she could say anything else, she let out a moan as Charles started leaving small bites on her, being careful not to go too far over her cleavage.

He wasn't about to make you walk around with a bloody neck, not to mention the damage he could potentially cause if he got too excited.

"Why... Why don't you bite me properly?" She whispered breathily, making him look up from her neckline.

"I have never bitten a human before," Charles answered calmly. "It can have some... side effects, you see."

"What... kind of side effects?"

"The kind that will make you beg me to fuck you. If I get too excited, my body will release an aphrodisiac," he replied, looking at you with slightly darkened eyes.

"Well... We did kind of seal the deal already, no? I'm curious how it'd feel, and I am sure you are as well."

"It's... We don't know each other well; I do not want to force you to have sex with me." Charles exhaled.

"Charlie, you have my consent before anything happens. You didn't bite me yet, and I am fully aware of the consequences of it. Don't you want to, just a little bit?"

Charles felt his restraints crumbling. He tried to resist, knowing how powerful the aphrodisiac was. But having your eager consent, thinking about the way it'd feel to sink his fangs into you... It was just too much for him.

He felt your blood calling, whispering to him. Your veins seemed to be pulsing. You didn't only smell delicious; you looked like it. Charles closed his eyes, feeling the faint scent of vanilla again.

Without saying anything else, he got closer to you, gently grabbing your shoulders to keep you in place. You did not move, standing there in anticipation as he examined your neck, pinpointing where your jugular veins were.

If he would bite any of your arteries, his healing saliva would not be able to stop the bleeding, killing you instantly. But he was attached to you and didn't want to cause you any harm, so he focused on finding the veins instead.

Charles took his time, examining your neck, before leaning in more and placing his mouth directly on it. Without holding back anymore, he sinks his teeth into your skin, causing a sharp but pleasant pain to shoot through your body, making you whimper in pleasure.

He took small sips of your blood, careful not to overwhelm you with the amount he is taking. After all, he was feeding on animal blood, and he did not require much more. As the warm liquid filled his mouth, he couldn't help but let out a satisfied hum, gripping your shoulders a bit harder.

With every sip, his fangs releasedthe aphrodisiac directly to your veins. You felt your body gradually get hotter, making you want to take off the rest of your clothes.

Charles thoroughly cleaned your neck from excess blood, healing it partially in the process, with his saliva. He looked at you and immediately noticed the change in your eyes.

"Take off my bra, Charlie," you whispered, looking at him with your slightly widened shiny eyes. "Don't be shy."

"Trust me, darling, I am not being shy," he murmured, unclasping your bra with more ease than you would yourself. "Do you want to do it in the kitchen, or would you prefer my bedroom?"

"We will probably be more comfortable on a bed," you giggled, playing with his shirt. Before you said anything else, Charles gave you a nudge, guiding you to his bedroom. He pushed you on the bed, sliding his polo off his body, followed by the white shirt.

You stared shamelessly at his stomach and bare shoulders, admiring them. He let out a light-hearted scoff and looked at you with a smirk. He unbuttoned your jeans and was about to get his trousers off as well when you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

"Let me," you whispered, unbuttoning his trousers and sliding them off while biting your lip a little at the sight of the prominent bulge in his pants.

You finally took off your unclasped bra completely, letting your breasts out of the squishing undergarment. You did not take your eyes off him while taking his pants off as well, exposing his member entirely.

He watched you as you took it in your hands and examined it. You looked up into his eyes as you began massaging it, making him hiss slightly. You smiled and took it in your mouth, sucking on its tip, making Charles throw his head back in pleasure and grip your hair.

He could not help but push into your mouth, wanting to envelop his cock whole with your warmth. And you let him, relaxing your throat. Before he could come, he pulled out, panting slightly.

"Not yet." Charles whispered, stroking your face, "Should I make you scream, sugar?"

Before you could respond, he pushed you back on the bed and crawled on top of you, looking down at you as if you were his prey. His large hands massaged your sides as he gazed at you tenderly.

"Please, Charlie," you answered quietly, "I need you right now."

"You sound beautiful like that." Charles grinned, "Asking me so nicely..."

His hands reached down and grabbed your panties, snatching them off you, though he was careful enough not to rip them.

He began rubbing the outside of your pussy, building up the tension in your whole body. You started to whine, which was a sign for him to put his finger in.

Finally, he dipped it inside, massaging your clit, before adding another one. He brought you to a climax in a couple of moments with his skilled fingers.

You panted, looking up at him, as he loomed over your shaking body. Charles smirked again and leaned in, kissing your lips, nibbling on your lip a bit.

"Do you enjoy this?" he whispered. "The thought of a blood-drinking monster, ravaging you, taking whatever he wants?"

You whined breathily, squirming underneath him, desperate for more of the bliss he could provide her.

"Use your words, Sugar," he whispered. "What is it that you crave?"

"You," you whined, trying to catch your breath. "Only you. I need you to make me feel good."

Charles kept looking you in the eye, his orbs practically gleaming with satisfaction.

"I'll make you feel good." he spoke "I can't bear seeing you beg for too long. You're just such a sweet little thing..."

His voice trailed off as he positioned himself directly at your entrance. You shut your eyes, bracing yourself for the sensation you were about to experience. You did not doubt his ability to make you feel good. In fact, a part of you was wondering if you could even take it.

You found your answer when he began thrusting into you, before he picked up on the speed, practically pounding into your clit.

Your whimpers got louder; he let out a couple of breathy moans as well. You couldn't help but enjoy the way his low, melodic voice could twist into such pretty sounds.

As the last moan escaped his mouth and you both finished, Charles pulled out of you, looking down at you tiredly. Before he could say anything, you pulled him down on top of you, burying your head in his neck.

You both remained silent for a while, simply enjoying each other's presence.

"Did you try the brownies?" you whispered, making him grin.

"That's a funny question to ask, right after we've had sex." Charles responded, looking down at you with his little grin, "I did; they were delicious. Maybe we could have some for breakfast tomorrow?"

"You want me to stay?" you asked, almost surprised.

"Darling, if I could, I would never let you go," he responded, pulling you into a warm hug, as he buried his face in your hair and breathed in your scent once more.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hello! I want to participate in the CBC Black History Month Challenge but im a tad bit overwhelmed and not sure where to start with any piece I do

I know you said qoutes but theres so many qoutes i could choose that im a bit stumped

I was considering doing studies of diffrent hair styles or diffrent hair coverings since i haven't practiced those in a while but im not sure if it would count?

I want to get to actual pieces but again way too overwhelmed with choice to

I'm glad you're finding this difficult, because that gives you the opportunity to intentionally work through it to create a good Black character design!

Let's walk through this with everyone, then, since other folks might be on the same page:

1) Think of this project as a gift. Even though the practice is important, it's not about your benefit- it's about what would make Black viewers of your work know that they are valued by this creator, that they aren't just tools of storytelling or an alien species!

2) You don't have to do a whole bunch poorly, when you can do one well. One well done sketch > 1000 racist pieces. You have 27 more days of this challenge (and really, every day after that!) Practice! Recognize that the effort you're putting in is something many creators might not even consider doing! Take the time to find references and work at it- that's part of practicing good Black character design!

You said you want to do a hair study- there are plenty of quotes, poems, and media on the joy and uplift of Black hair. You're gonna have to take your time to read some of them, and find what expresses the way you feel most connected to what you wanna do. I took thirty minutes today to skim through poems. Do you want to deliver something fast, or something genuine? Which leads to my last and important point:

3) What are you trying to say?

I've said it a few times, but you can often tell when someone creates Black characters or designs to satisfy themselves, and not Black viewers. So: what do you want to say to your Black viewers with this piece? What do you want them to walk away with?

Do you want to say that you value the effort that goes into Black hair (thus your effort into practicing?) Find poems or quotes related to the effort and beauty of Black hair. Do you want them to know that you recognize their value in fan media? You can also just say some nice things outright (don't be weird with it, just be respectful).

This is me trying to make y'all practice purposeful intent with Black character design, with the goal of a Black audience. You can do it! It can be done!

[utilitycaster]

1. My biggest isssue (as a POC) is when is a character POC or otherized? Do we use IRL or in world? Beau is Human, brown woman. At no point in C2 is the fact that she is brown comes up other than discriptions. Her humaness is what matters especially in the COB. She is treated the same aa Caleb. Fjord, Nott and Molly havs far more in text displays of racism towards them. Ppl dismiss jester as being "white" but insist dorian is poc. When in world they are the same colour.

2. And teiflings would be more discriminated against. I know robbie is poc and dorian is blue but hes a genasi. In the world of exandria i view him and ashton as the same race. So i see these weird arguments online and its always a cross steam trying to use both in world races and irl to prove a point. Since i am examining the world of exandria i use the races displayed there and no attention to what the people look like irl. Also it avoids unintentional sterotyping down the road

3. An example ppl drawing drow and ashton with black racial features (my own) and then someone else complaing that the fandom made the asshole and the would be villian into black men. This fanon has unintended consequences once the story is fully fleshed out. Saying Orym is non white (despite Liams art direction) is bad because people to this day are mad Marisha made beau dark. It cant be both way. This way ppl can headcanon stuff so they dont have 2 go looking for other ips for representation.

----

So this is a really good point and I am, as said, an ethnic/religious minority but not a racial one and so this is how I tend to interpret this stuff in fantasy works, especially ones that have multiple species (humans, elves, etc) as it's not limited to Critical Role (ie, happens in Dragon Age too), which I think is what you're saying here but feel free to let me know if I'm wrong:

There's "is this character treated, in-world, as racialized" (which is often more contextual in a lot of fictional works in a way it is not IRL due to patterns of colonialism in our world, which is a long conversation I'm probably not equipped to articulate well, but just as an example, Fjord is racialized as a half-orc on the Menagerie Coast, but half-orcs in Yios, for example would have a very different experience). In other words, do people within the work of fiction discriminate against them on the basis of race? Anyway, as you said, Fjord, Molly, Jester, and Veth in her goblin form are treated as The Other; Fjord (and Molly, though his memory is only a few years long) grew up with this experience whereas Jester and Veth grew up, for different reasons, sheltered from or unaffected by that discrimination. Beau didn't experience racism in-world, nor did Veth in her halfling form, despite both of them being visibly nonwhite. For a Dragon Age example, Bellara, Davrin, and Antoine grew up with racism as elves, but Neve did not (and indeed comments on using her privilege as a human mage among human mages) despite being visibly nonwhite (and despite Antoine being white).

There's then "is this character treated out of world as racialized", or in other words, do fans treat them as nonwhite. This is also complicated, and this is something I can speak to as Jewish people who are not also POC experience 'conditional whiteness', ie, when right-wing people want to hate Jews we are the nonwhite infiltrator and when left-wing (and often themselves white) people want to hate them they are the white oppressor. So racist fans will hate characters who are nonwhite (like Beau) and fans trying to prove their blorbo cannot be criticized on the basis of oppression. In this case, Beau and Veth are nonwhite; Fjord and Jester often vary depending on what argument the person wants to make; Molly, as opposed to Jester, is almost NEVER drawn with nonwhite features (which frankly says a LOT of unflattering things about the white queer centering, now that I think about it); etc.

And then there's "is the actor/creator racialized in real life," ie, Robbie, Aabria, Anjali, Utkarsh, Aimee, Christian, Mica, Khary, etc are all POC and the main cast are not. Most of their characters are nonwhite, but few are racialized - Shakaste, Deanna, Bor'Dor, Opal, Deni$e, and Reani do not experience racism within this setting. Genasi (as played by Anjali, Robbie, and Taliesin) are a complicated case of being tokenized/model minority within the Empire, and the Silken Squall being inspired by native culture but their role within the world only slightly touched upon such that it's hard to draw a definitive conclusion.

And, since I referenced it in the tags elsewhere, for an NPC case: Essek is racialized by the people of the Empire (as a drow) along with the rest of the Dynasty; he is not racialized within the Dynasty and is indeed in a privileged position there; and whether or not he's treated as nonwhite by the fandom depends on whether someone wants to hate on him or defend him on the basis of identity. He is an NPC, and Matt's white, but in theory could be controlled by a nonwhite GM such as Aabria, or a nonwhite player in the way that Robbie played Cerkonos.

Anyway: completely agree that a lot of people do this in the end so that they don't have to seek out like, Desiquest or Rivals of Waterdeep or Into the Motherlands or other APs run by actual real nonwhite people either because of parasocial connections to the cast, the fact that CR has a larger fandom and they want the attention, or the fact that often they are here for white queer characters and bring in nonwhite characters (and headcanons of white characters) as some kind of armor against criticism.

I think in terms of character interpretation you do need to consider both in-world (Fjord is textually treated as the racial other to the point of self-harming to fit in; you cannot treat him as The Racial Majority in the world without being noncanonical) and out-of-world (irl people are racist towards Beau) but yeah a lot of people really want to have it both ways.

This happens a lot with queerness too - one of the big backlashes I experienced during this campaign is when I pointed out that Exandria is not, in fact, a setting with systemic homophobia and Imogen's experience of being othered in Gelvaan is an extremely bad metaphor for queerness given that she can read people's minds and almost killed two people, but it is true that people irl may be homophobic towards Imogen as a character. But again, you need to be consistent in those arguments - if you are talking about in-world racism or homophobia, you cannot bring up Imogen or Beau, who do not experience these things. If you are talking about fandom racism, you can bring up Beau. And if your issue is racism and representation in the real world, you can and should push back on (for example) people being racist towards Utkarsh for daring to exist and not know every rule of D&D when Emily Axford is onscreen but also we are watching a show of 8 white people when there are other actual plays with a more diverse cast. And yeah, fanon isn't canon and if the character is only nonwhite in your mind, it is not racist of people to disagree or to not vibe with them and it's also worth checking, if you are headcanoning someone with an identity you do not personally have, to see if you're falling into harmful stereotypes. Why are you headcanoning Orym, a character who doesn't experience in-world discrimination, played by a white man, as nonwhite, instead of seeking out works with textually nonwhite or racialized characters? And why are you incapable of accepting that sometimes you'll like a character who is not on every single axis of oppression and it's like, fine, provided you work against oppression in your real world life? If your faves are always white or always men (or, frankly, always demographically like you) then maybe take a look at yourself and who you are capable of relating to, but if you have a mixture of diverse favorite characters it's fine if not every one of them checks every single box.

[xinganhao]

some notes on to all the boys i've loved before!svt (hyung and maknae) | 💌 est. release dates for special chapters -> feb. 13, thurs (hyung) & feb. 15, sat (maknae), gmt+8.

(1) in the smau, cheol is 'your best friend's brother', but it was originally supposed to be something else: 'your [older] brother's best friend'! i brought it up in conversation with someone (chugging-antiseptic-dye, i think) and was convinced to do a switcheroo at the last minute.

it's acknowledged in the first line of the letter ("this is the cliche of all cliches...") but something about cheol just slots into the trope all too well. i've seen people joke that he's a strong start, and i blame myself for squeezing the 'pretty girl' and 'gorgeous' pet names in one screenshot. lmao.

(2) jeonghan being an upperclassman at the school play was a call made by diamonddaze01, with respect to jeonghan having attended an acting institute for a short while. initially, the 'main lead' trope was supposed to be seokmin's— but i was convinced that jeonghan's acting background is way too underutilized in fic. [linking jeonghan's acting stint in KIGGEN(키겐) ((PHANTOM)(팬텀)) _ PLAYBACK(다시보기) for funsies!]

the little letter is so jeonghan as well, particularly "you didn't have to be so nice to us." i think it's very telling of hannie, to crack jokes and give words of encouragement even to the 'smallest' role in a production.

(3) i have zero shame in admitting that this trope came way too easily to me. guitar teacher!shua? sign me the fuck up. it's a blend of all his little passions— the guitar, other people, etc.— and so it was a bit of a no-brainer. couple that with his politeness over the letter and you have something that is just so shua-coded.

i have visions of fingers with embeddings of the strings, of shua's eyes crinkling in quiet laughs as he teaches you to play. it's all in the letter, and i'm just amused at the thought of MC being so distracted over her crush on shua that she didn't learn anything past the most basic song to play on guitar.

(4) nothing like a good rivals to ...? trope to get the blood pumping! i will be honest: if i had a say, my hyung line vote would go to junhui. the ending line in his letter ("wen junhui, if i didn't know any better— i'd say that you liked me a little bit, too") was my absolute favorite for the hyung ver.

this one has a healthy dose of emotional constipation/tsundere!jun/etc., although here is also a small confession: the trope was initially soonyoung's. i switched it out after staring a little too long at his exclusive fairytale photos.

(5) among the hyung line, this was the one i settled on last, if only because i had to pull that switch. this was prior to soonyoung admitting he knows how to get latte to stop kissing him ([sighs heavily]). i was thoroughly amused by MC falling for the owner of the pet she sits often.

i like the line "you care deeply for all loving things, big and small" in the letter, if only because i think it's characteristic of how soonyoung is as a person. latte is technically a plot device (lol) in this story, although i can just imagine how part-lovable/part-insufferable soonyoung would be as a client.

(6) this is not the first gamer!wonwoo trope you will see. it will not be the last. this was also a relatively easy trope to assign, although a expounds on it by referring to wonwoo as "the guy you meet/play with on the League of Legends forums." i make a passing LoL reference in the letter, because that's the foundation of the crush: the bespectacled guy on the other side of the screen who will beg and borrow for one more game with you.

i tend to make my gamer!wonwoo's a little more on the awkward/'loser' side, so the cockiness in the texts are certainly new. i didn't want to get too nsfw on the main (lmaooo) so the jab of "i didn't know you liked my fingers that much, though" is up to your imagination. (:

(7) in her reblog of the hyung post, heartepub says something to the extent of "i can imagine jihoon's fingers shaking as he types out 'if you want'" and it endeared me to no end, because of course. anicon-goer jihoon is another stroke of brilliance for a. in hindsight, i think it's just a little too niche to hit the right marks, but i wanted to do something that was characteristic to the members.

this almost became something akin to jihoon falling for a cosplayer/being a cosplayer himself; i don't think i had enough room to worldbuild that much, though. overall, this is adjacent to a more tsundere jihoon/a jihoon that reciprocates but cannot confess.

(8) on a technical end, i'd written mingyu's letter first buuut i rewrote it... and so i consider seokmin's the first that i really wrote for the maknae line. immediately, i was worried i'd be screwed and everybody would be able to tell that i am madly in love with this man. anyway. we ball.

for the maknae line, my vote admittedly goes to seok! one part i really enjoy is the parallels between "everything good about the summers… the hot days, the crackle of campfires, the chirping of cicadas" -> "you're the sun, seokmin. you're the fire; you're the song", which is really just MC's roundabout way of confessing that seokmin is everything good about her summers.

(9) it took several consultations with maplegyu to nail gyu's trope. she's eventually the one who came up with the prospect of him being that handsome constant on public transportation. the letter says a lot about mingyu's more caring attributes, and there's also a bit of a parallel to hannie's.

mingyu doesn't have to be nice, to be sweet, and yet he wants to. <- this was a concept i'd wanted to integrate in the texts, but since the texts come first, i didn't know how to make it seamless. the vague idea here is "is mingyu sweet to you because he likes you, or is he like that to everybody?"

(10) combining the two things i love (bookstores + minghao) is, unfortunately, a cheap shot on my end. bookstore cashier!minghao sliding in with a pickup line alluding letters to milena just had me shaking my head at myself, honestly.

i couldn't resist sliding in a small poetry reference. his letter ends with "xu minghao, you could sell me the world" -> which is a shameless allusion to maggie smith's good bones, namely the part where it goes "i am trying / to sell them the world. any decent realtor, / walking you through a real shithole, chirps on / about good bones."

(11) the idea of 'weekend warrior' seungkwan entails some backstory-telling, since i feel like it doesn't translate too well in text/letter: seungkwan is a guy you run into a lot at your weekend markets. the two of you exchanged numbers, mostly for convenience, to discuss produce and essentially find somebody to go with! for my fellow filipinos, the scene i have in mind is comparable to the salcedo saturday market hehe.

i've gotten a number of reactions to seungkwan's 'mrs. boo' quote, which, you know what? completely valid. MC x seungkwan bicker like an old couple, and the thought of a seungkwan on the flirtier end is just a little too good to pass up on.

(12) 'friend of a friend' vernon is a very specific trope wherein you find your acquaintance/etc. attractive and desirable. there's a joke constantly made that a crush is only a crush until you find out more about them, and i feel like that's the vibe of this particular verse. vernon is ~mysterious~ and [seemingly] unattainable, making him the guy of your dreams.

the letter is vague enough. the texts are a little more in character, in what (i hope 🤞) reads like actual textspeak you might expect from this Man.

(13) i do think it's worth clarifying that chan is not blood-related to MC; 'auntie's son' had a longer title ('the son of your mother's friend') that didn't quite roll off the tongue lol. this one has two lines i enjoyed writing ("i think i'm supposed to fall in love with you" + "i don't want to have you, because then i stand the chance of losing you"), and overall just slots right into the childhood friends to ...? trope.

i've grown quite fond of the more sunshine-y aspects of chan's personality, hence the excitability and sarcasm in the texts. it's a bit of a puppy love situation, admittedly, and it's a question of whether that's enough for something real.

thank you for receiving this little project so well! :") whenever i do annotations, i always say "this story is yours now"— but the choose-your-own adventureness of it all makes it all the more true.

see you all for the special chapter! xo linking one final time for those who want to cast votes/reread:

[bibookdemon]

Chat. Gay chicken(?) with Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan.

Warning for some nsfw aspects further down ;3

-Started out as SQH writing LBH as bi in PIDW, he was catering to the fans so suddenly LBH discovers he's also into men lmfao, so he writes a smut scene between LBH and another man and it is so much worse than any of the other smut. Bro did not do any of his fucking research. He has no fucking clue.

-Some of the fans eat it up but SY is like NUH UH THIS IS SHIT. And of course he writes that it's shit.

-For once, SQH writes back: 'Like YOU would know, you rich fucking asshole!' (He's gathered that SY has enough money he can sit around all day and leave bad reviews on his story.)

-SY is all 'Of course I know, idiot! Literally everyone knows how to write gay smut!!'

-And SQH is too deep in his rage to think about what he's saying so: 'Prove it then.'

-SY is also too deep. 'Come to XX on XX day.'

-They meet at a bustling coffeeshop that's super cute and geared towards couples. SY's first impression of SQH is 'wow he's short' and SQH's first impression of SY is 'yeah he looks fucking gay.' And he's pretty sure he's gonna eat his words.

-They go on a fucking coffee date. SY buys him coffee, they get a cute table in a semi-private corner, they actually get to talking and everything is kinda chill.

-SQH eventually remembers that hey, this guy is the jerk who leaves shitty comments on his story. So he tells him to man tf up and prove he knows about gay smut.

-SY is now scrambling to figure it out. He does not, in fact, know how to write gay smut. He does not, in fact, know how to prove it. So, now that he's panicking, he does the unexpected to divert SQH's attention: He slides a hand over SQH's, leans it, and kisses him right on the lips. 'How's this for gay?'

-SQH is absolutely surprised and flustered and also holy fuck that was like a really good kiss and low-key he wants to be kissed like that again but- 'still doesn't prove anything - unless you're unable to prove it'

-SY is in this too deep and has too much pride to give in. So he decides to go for another shock factor. He gets out his phone and he calls his favorite hotel. And he books a room. And SQH is just thinking to himself 'what the fuck have I gotten myself into' but of course he's not gonna back out! He has too much pride as well, and hey, a hotel room is better than his dingy little place, and maybe he also wants some more of those kisses.

-They go to the hotel in SY's car (SQH took the bus to get to the coffee shop) and then they're at the hotel and then SY is initiating a quick, sloppy kiss in the parking lot and SQH is feeling a little turned on and then- they have to go inside

-He figured SY was rich, but he didn't realize just HOW rich the bastard was. Bro got a fucking suite. It's huge, the bed is nice, the moment they're inside the room, SY's tongue is down his throat.

-After that, they both sorta stumble through the steps, SQH is too busy being turned on and wanting more kissing to recognize that SY is fumbling with everything and is sweating buckets and trembling cause he's so nervous. When it was time to put the condom on SY was so worried he was gonna rip it lmfao

-And they fuck, and it's awkward but also good, and SQH afterwards is just like 'you should prove you know how to write gay smut more often. To me.'

-SY is just like 'yeah, yeah,' he's tired and he wants to sleep and he just grabs SQH and snuggles him cause it feels right.

-Morning rolls around and they both realize what they just did + what they said they'd do in the future. And they're both looking at each other wide-eyed. And finally, SQH is all, 'Look Cucumber-bro, I don't know about you, but I had a fun time, and fuck all the stupid shit about writing gay smut, I want to BE the gay smut.'

-And SY is just like 'Ok,' because he has nothing better to say but he doesn't mind SQH's reasoning and he liked the sex.

-They'd be fucking hilarious. Poor SY doesn't know what he signed up for, SQH ends up having this endless stamina + an endless torrent of new ideas for them to try. 'I have to know how it works for the story!!! The fans are eating up my writing lately!!!!' - And SY has come to find SQH absolutely adorable and he can't say no to that cute face.

-They're just fuck-buddies at first, but they eventually develop a crush on each other, have a whole dramatic situation over that, and then start dating. (SY starts showering SQH in rich gifts lmao - some of them are useful some art, SQH loves all of them cause omg his boyfriend loves him and gift-giving is part of his love language.)

[fandom-susceptible]

I know people have already talked about this scene before but I wanted to break it down myself because I love it so much. Little Lira yells "Rayla! Callum wants to have ten babies with you!" and everyone's reactions just kill me

Poor Callum has been doing so well with these kids, he's gonna be such a good dad one day, and he knows EXACTLY where he went wrong that produced this result and he also knows there's NOTHING he can do to stop it

Ethari is clearly the first of the elves to start to process what she said. Rayla's so distracted. Runaan frankly just looks tired.

:3 Rayla doesn't look upset at the concept though, just surprised. And Stella is literally just the :o meme.

Lira looks so pleased with herself. This little girl lives for chaos. She has done this on purpose. The smallest child here is convinced they're about to die (figuratively). The middle child is just trying to figure out what the big deal is. Callum is going for damage control.

He also knows this little girl did this to him on purpose. Ezran has absolutely said shit like that out of context to get him in trouble.

Rayla's recovering, has to blink to process what just happened. Runaan is like I barely signed up for one child, I'm not babysitting grandchildren yet. He's reconsidering whether being alive is a good thing. Ethari is connecting the dots between Lira's mischievous nature and Callum's frantic reaction.

He's the first elf adult to fully grasp what's just happened, and this is fucking hilarious. He brought this on the poor boy by unleashing Lira on him without warning him.

Runaan and Rayla have a strong like father like daughter moment as Ethari just loses it laughing. What was this household like when Rayla was growing up? How often did this happen? Ethari is the dad with all the puns that make them both groan and Runaan threaten his life, you can just tell

The laughter sinks in and Runaan visibly remembers why he likes being alive. Rayla is more concerned about how funny Ethari finds this than the statement itself. You can see her thinking Moon help me, Dad, please no.

Lira is so proud of herself. She made Pride Papa Ethari cackle. Callum isn't sure what to do but is fairly certain he's not in trouble. Runaan is vaguely amused at how much this hit his husband in the funny bone. We can no longer see Rayla's expression.

god I love the Moonfam parts of this episode. Runaan is so fucking done with having guests, Callum is a good partner and is gonna be such a great dad one day, and Ethari and Rayla are both just so happy to be home and together again

[velvetvexations]

Here's a thing that personally really gets me about the whole "transmascs pass so easy and have no issues post transition, virtually cis male privileges" thing is that ... You see, I am stealth and do pass as cis fairly well. But even as a "cis" man, I am a failed man. I am too short, I am too thin, my beard isn't thick enough, my voice a little too high, my face too young. Except that towards me, because I "am cis", it's socially acceptable to make fun of that. It's not insensitive, as it would be towards a trans guy, instead people are "allowed" to poke fun at my failed masculinity because "cis men need to take a bit of poking haha. What, is your masculinity that frail? Typical man lol." Even without any intended malice, people seldomly consider that what they're saying might actually hit a sore spot -- Not like I don't know that I am the way I am, and have heard these things a hundred times. And that's not even getting into "Well, not like you would know, as a man," when people are talking about issues I, too, experienced my whole life or still do experience today, and I just have to nod.

I prefer being stealth. Because I dislike the way people treat you differently when they find out you aren't. But being seen as a "failed cis man" sure as hell feels bad, too. (And I bet it doesn't really feel good for actual cis men who "aren't masculine enough", either. I don't think it's a coincidence that I get this kind of thing much more often from women than from men.)

You shouldn't be having your problems minimized by people who don't actually know what you experience. I'm sorry anon. <3

[brokebonewritings]

The Moon’s Petal

Steven Grant x Fem! Reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Falling in Love, Regency Era

Summary: The most interesting match of the season has caught the eye of the ton. The story of Steven Grant falling in love with the Diamond of the Season.

Word Count: 8.2K

A/N: You may notice of shift in writing styles in this piece and it's because I initially wrote this almost 3 years ago haha this is just a warning for that. Also, I think this might be my longest piece to date...I hope you all enjoy! xx

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Dearest Readers,

Even my most dedicated readers will know that this author is prompt to deliver the latest news of society. For those wondering what is in store for this edition, I have the most delightful surprise for you.

Mr. Grant has finally sparked a conversation with several ladies of the ton. One, in which this author believes would be a most auspicious match, was none other than the Diamond of the Season. Although this gentleman has failed to spark any sort of conversation in the past, the laughter heard from the crowd was a delight to any matchmaking mama.

This author wonders if this social season will be much different for the gentleman. One can only assume that Mr. Steven Grant has had a change of mind, and is finally in need of companionship. For now, I shall watch closely to see if any relationship shall develop between this gentleman and one of our most beautiful ladies.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers,

30 March 1815

“My God,” Steven gawked as he read the rest of the paper. He was never one for such gossip, however this edition made the man more interested than most. It seemed that one conversation had sparked so much gossip between the ladies of the ton.

Looking over at his reflection, he sees Marc shake his head.

You’re an absolute idiot for reading that shit. He could hear Marc say. 

“Well I think it is absolutely interesting how we could be the spark of any sort of scandal.” Steven quipped back.

Scandal? Talking to a lady is hardly a scandal. How about when they find out there are three of us in one body. Marc’s comment made Steven sit back in his chair. He never considered having to actually tell someone of their predicament. Not even the most lovely lady he met at the ball the night before.

Her eyes dazzled as he spoke to her about his travels, and his silly nonsense. When she had finally asked him to dance, he happily gave her his arm. Though, their walk through the garden that same evening ended with hushed goodbyes.

Steven dazed about the rest of the day, wondering if he would ever see his lady again. As interested as he was in her, he never quite asked for her name. A mistake he regretted instantly.

Only a few blocks down, you sat in your drawing room with your family and chatted happily about the night before. Your mama seemed most pleased with the amount of calls you were receiving. However, there was one you wanted most of all.

“Darling, you mustn’t stare off like that. It could be seen as impolite.” Your mother stated as she took another sip of her tea.

“Yes, mama.” You replied, though you couldn't help but wonder if that was something he would find impolite. Even as the both of you spoke the prior evening he often stared into the night sky as if he was in a trance.

You could never forget it though, surely he would find you at the next event, and surely he would be the one to ask you to dance. Of course it was never a guarantee, but the feeling in your stomach told you otherwise.

Continuing on with your day, you attended to the gentlemen calls that intrigued your mother. Most of these men just spoke of their interests and what they would want to see in you. This bored you to death. Of course you were a fantastic listener, but it was feeling just a bit tedious at this point.

Toward midday, when there were no more calls, you made your way to the center of town to enjoy the sights of the people passing by. You were escorted by your family, however it was nice to get some fresh air. You often brought your notebook to study other people’s characteristics. Knowing every sort by name.

While strolling with your family, you notice a man on the other side of the street walking briskly. It wasn’t that you were intentionally staring, but you were a bit curious at the hurried behavior of this gentleman. At closer glance you notice it was him. The man you had been swooning and dreaming about the night before.

As he disappears into a small shop, you tug at your father’s sleeve.

“Papa, What is that shop over there?” You ask, with the motive of manipulating your father to go inside and see. He turns his head in the direction you are pointing and chuckles a bit.

“My darling, that is just a stationary shop. I believe it had just opened up about a week ago. Are you in need of new quills?” He asked.

You nod your head when, in fact, you do not need any more stationary items. All you wanted was to see and perhaps speak to the man you strolled with the night before. Your father tasked your oldest brother to escort you into the shop. 

Marc hurried into the shop, checking his whereabouts before stepping inside. They had just received word earlier that day that a special visitor would be arriving later that week. Not that his parents were that special of visitors, it was just that he hated having to share his home with others. Even if it was for an afternoon.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he hears the bells on the door chime. Usually he’s not too curious about who comes in and out, but something compelled him to look around the stand he was staring at. A gentleman and a young woman step inside the shop. He knew the man, but he couldn’t quite remember where he saw the woman.

Turning his head, he catches a glimpse of Steven in the glass. He’s gawking at her in awe. Oh shit. 

“Steven, is that the girl from last night?” Marc said quietly.

She’s a Benette?

Marc looks back quickly to confirm she was indeed standing with Lord Howard Benette, the oldest son of the Benette family.

“What’s the big problem? You’ve hunted with Howard multiple times.”

Yes, but…  I didn’t know that was his sister

“I’m gonna go talk to him” Marc said, quickly turning his attention towards the man and his supposed sister. Steven did have a point. He danced with the girl all night anyways. There should be no problem talking him up to the brother. 

The two were looking at quills when Marc approached them, the girl seemed surprised but the man was delighted to see the other gentleman.

“Mr. Grant! How delightful to see you. What are you doing here in town?” Howard shook his hand as Marc tried to collect his thoughts.

“I could ask you the same, Benette. It’s not everyday you see the Lord walking around.” Marc tried to mimic Steven’s accent, but it was not very good.

“Yes, well, a family outing is long overdue. Speaking of, Mr. Grant, please meet my sister, y/n.” He brings his attention to the girl standing on his side. When Marc looks over he notices you staring at him with the most wonderstruck eyes.

“Good Afternoon Miss Benette.” Marc smiles softly at you, taking a small bow. You giggle and nod back at him.

“Hello Mr. Grant. Lovely to make your acquaintance.” As you spoke, Marc realized what Steven had seen in you. Why he had fallen head over heels. You really were a lovely sight to behold. Your skin looked soft, your hair was long and pinned up in curls, and you had the sweetest smile.

I know what you’re thinking, and I will accept an apology later. 

This comment made Marc smirk. There were times he wished he couldn’t hear Steven (Or Jake for that matter) rambling in their head.

“Lord Benette, I do believe I met your sister last night at the ball. I must insist on a call tomorrow.” Marc said with a smile on his face.

Wait. What? He heard Steven scream in his head. He did exactly what he knew Steven wouldn’t, and now the other had to deal with that.

“Oh that would be a wonderful thing, don’t you agree?” Howard turned his attention towards you and Marc saw the smile spread across your face widen.

“That sounds like a wonderful time. I look forward to your call, Mr. Grant.” With that last comment, you turned and walked out the store. Howard said his goodbye and followed behind you. 

A warning would have been nice, yeah? Steven grunted

Marc rushed to buy the stationary he needed and left the store. He couldn’t help giving Steven that small nudge. He needed it anyway. Hopefully, Steven doesn’t fuck it up this time.

Dearest Readers,

It has come to my attention that a flame has been set ablaze. Mister Steven Grant may have begun his courtship with our beloved diamond! How exhilarating this romance must seem, however to the other suitors this will be a very sad moment. It seems that this match, in which I predicted to be the very best, has been the gossip of almost every household of the ton. May we be seeing the bloom of a beautiful proposal, or the raging of a fire that will be sadly blown out by a storm? The answer, dear reader, may surprise you. My watchful eye has been and will always be trained to spot each rise and downfall. That being said, I will continue to watch this romance and update you with the latest thread.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers,

1 April, 1815

“Ugh, that woman makes me want to tear my hair out!” You hear your mother say as she sets the paper on the table in front of her.

“What do you mean, Mama?” You hear your older sister say. Looking up from your tea you see your mother waving the paper around.

“This Whistledown woman is exasperating! She either loves this match or she doesn’t! She must make up her mind.” Hearing this comment makes you stand up immediately. Doing so makes everyone in the room turn in your direction.

“I- I must be getting ready. I do believe Mr. Grant said he would call on me around noon.” You turn and leave the room. Once you turned the corner of the hall, you backed against the wall taking a deep breath.

You couldn’t believe that this was finally happening. All thanks to your brother officially introducing him to you. The butterflies you felt in your stomach were very much real. However, you could only hope that he would court you properly.

Making it to your room finally, your lady maid, Emma, helped you pick out a very pretty lavender dress. Your hair was done in curls and pinned up to the latest fashion. When you were fully ready, you had to do the hardest thing of all. Wait.

Not that you were an impatient girl, you were just too excited for Mr. Grant to call on you. Dancing with him at the Masquerade had been the highlight of your evening, and you didn’t want to dance with anyone else after.

You walked back down to the parlor room to show your mother the dress you and Emma had picked out for the gentleman’s call. She looked absolutely delighted when you did a full turn.

“Oh blessed, You truly are the Diamond of the Season.” She raved. “Look how beautiful you are.”

“I truly cannot wait another minute, mama.” You said.

“Patience, my dear, He shall be here soon.” She glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. “Your brother shall also be here any minute to chaperone you both.”

You blushed lightly, the rose dusting on your cheeks only enhanced this. This was actually about to happen. You really couldn’t believe it. Sitting down, you waited quietly until your brother came and gave you a talk of what was about to happen.

On the other side of town, Steven paced his office in nervousness. He had never courted a woman before, let alone talked to the most beautiful person he has seen in his life. 

Would you stop with the pacing for five minutes? It was Marc, and he sounded very annoyed.

“I just don’t think I can do this” He quivered. “Why did you get me into this mess?” 

Because you need to find a wife before we die alone. Marc spat. Or would you rather we never find love?

Steven shook his head. Of course he didn’t want to die alone, without any kids or family of his own.

“What if she doesn’t take the news of all of us well though?” Steven looked in the mirror. He could see Marc’s reflection looking back at him. It wasn’t his usual hard look. Steven could tell he was deep in thought.

He took a look at the golden plate sitting on the shelf and saw Jake staring back at him.

How about we take turns courting her? Jake stated. This made Steven perk up a bit. That could actually work, and Jake never really stepped in unless both he and Marc were having trouble with their thoughts.

Looking back at the plate, Steven saw Marc shrug and nod his head.

“Yeah alright, then, that sounds like it could actually work!” Steven said excitedly. “I could go first and Marc could give it a go, and Jake can if he really feels like it!”

Steven. The time. Marc got his attention.

Steven looked at his pocket watch and realized he needed to get going. He took a deep breath, and left his office. He alerted the staff that he was going out and he would be back later that evening.

As he approached the Benette residence, he could feel the pit of his stomach be set ablaze by the pure excitement of officially courting you.

Once the carriage stopped, he stepped out into the crisp spring air, and made his way towards the door. Stopping to take a deep breath, he knocked three times and waited for the butler to answer. 

The door opened and there stood a stout older gentleman awaiting his arrival.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Grant. I believe Lord and Lady Benette have been expecting you.” The old man stepped aside to let Steven in.

Once inside, the older man led him to the entrance of the parlor where everyone had been waiting for his arrival.

“May I introduce, Mr. Steven Grant, here for Miss Benette.” He announced to the room and left hurriedly.

Steven stepped into the door and bowed to everyone in the room.

“Good Morning, Lord and Lady Benette.” He stutterd lightly. “Happy to make your acquaintance.”

Lord Benette stood from his seat and walked over to Steven extending his hand. Steven took and shook his hand firmly.

“Very nice! Very nice handshake, young man!” The gray haired man said. “I admire that about another man, a nice firm handshake shows promise!”

Then Lady Benette stood and walked over to Steven. She smiled at him as he bowed to her and gently grabbed her hand.

“What a gentleman indeed.” She quipped. “You must tell me where you learned such excellent manners.”

“My Governess was one of a kind, my lady.” He chuckled. 

Great charm, Steven. Keep it up. Steven could hear Marc say. This really began to boost his confidence. 

“Let me go fetch our daughter, she has been waiting all morning for you.” She laughed.

As she left the room, Howard entered and his face brightened at the sight of Steven.

“Grant! Good to see you this morning!” He said then turned to his father. “Father, Steven Grant and I were schoolmates in Brighton!”

“Is that so? Tell me, young man, what did you study and what do you do?” Lord Benette inquired.

“I studied Archaeology, My Lord. I find it absolutely fascinating discovering ancient relics and cities.” He said truthfully. “I am currently a curator at the British Museum in London, sir”

Lord Benette seemed pleased by his answer. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. They all continued to talk while they awaited the young lady to arrive.

Once you had entered the room, Steven noticed immediately. He turned fully to face and bowed to you. You curtsied back to him as he made his way towards you. Extending your hand to him and he happily took it and kissed your knuckles.

“Good Afternoon, Miss Benette.” Steven said awfully quiet. He was just taken aback by your beauty.

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Grant.” You replied, a light blush spreading across your face.

After a brief moment of staring at each other. Howard stepped in and cleared his throat.

“We should probably get a move on if we want to catch the Hot Air Balloons taking off.” He stated.

“Ah yes, we probably shall then.” Steven agreed and turned to Lord Benette once more. “It was an honor to meet you sir.”

“Please, this was a pleasure! I shall see you soon, my boy!” He chuckled happily.

Steven held his hand out to you, which you happily took. He helped her into the carriage following after your brother. This was turning out to be an excellent call. Something he never thought once would happen.

The carriage pulled up to the airfield and once Steven had exited the car, he helped you out onto the grassy area. It wasn’t too hot outside, but you definitely feel the sun blazing your skin. Though seeing all the large balloons getting ready to fly took your mind off of the heat.

Your brother and Steven chatted for a bit, and then Howard left to chat with another one of his friends leaving both you and Steven alone for a brief moment.

“Miss Benette, if I may ask, were you excited for this visit today?” Steven asked bluntly. You were honestly a little surprised by the question.

“Yes, very. I did rather fancy being able to see you again after the last ball.” You blushed. You could see him smile at your comment. 

“I was eager to see you again, but not knowing your name put me in a very hard predicament.” He replied. What an idiot you were. Of course you forgot to tell this man your name. However, no sense of dwelling on that now.

“Now let me ask you something, Mr. Grant.” You started. “What are things you like to do for fun?”

Now it was finally your turn to learn about him and his background. This excited you. Learning how he was an archaeologist, and how he talked about the ancient Egyptians and Egyptian gods. He was very fascinating.

Once he was done, he asked about you in return. You told him of your hobbies, how many languages you spoke, and how you had always wanted to travel. When the conversation seemed to falter, you saw the gleam in his eyes change slightly.

“Do you speak any other languages?” You ask out of curiosity.

He nodded and cleared his throat.

“I know Spanish, French, and Arabic. It is something I am passionate about.” He said, though you noticed his accent had changed just a bit. It wasn’t enough to concern you though. 

You both talked more about his travels and education. You even learned that he had been to Africa on an expedition to find an ancient temple.

“Would you ever take me on an expedition, Mr. Grant?” You asked him and grabbed onto his arm. Once again, his eyes changed at a moment's notice.

“If it is not too dangerous, we can discuss the option to.” He stared and smiled slightly at you.

This was exhilarating to talk about. The potential to travel the world with someone who could very much fall in love with and marry. You glance over and notice that he is staring at you intensely. When he notices you looking back, he smiles and holds out his arm.

You both begin to walk around the field, speaking to the pilots of the Hot Air Balloons. This was the highlight of your day. After a few hours, you both head back to the viewing area to watch them lift off. Howard is there waiting for the both of you, with a big smile spread across his face.

He and Steven spoke about the mechanics on the Balloons and you stood and listened to their conversation. All you could feel at the moment was absolute joy. When it was finally time to go you all headed back to the carriage and went on your way.

You all made it back to your residence, and you began to realize this was the end of your visit. It made you sad to think about. When you all had exited the carriage, it was time to say goodbye. Steven chatted with your brother a bit before turning to you.

“Miss Benette, if I may ask, would you accompany me to the next ball?” He asked. “If that is acceptable with your older brother?”

Howard smiled brightly, “Indeed it is! What do you say to Mr. Grant’s request?” Your brother turned to you questioningly.

“It would be an absolute pleasure, Mr. Grant.” You say as you smile at him. He smiles warmly back at you. And with a tip of his hat, he was gone. It was sad watching him leave, however, now you were truly excited for the ball coming in two days time. 

Once you and your brother got back inside, he began to question how the visit went while he was away.

“So! Tell me! You like him, do you not?” He asked playfully.

“Howard! Shh!” You giggled. “It is true. I do have quite a fondness for him.”

“Then it is settled. I will not allow any other man to come between the two of you.” He stated. “I will go speak with him tomorrow about it.”

You smile.”And what of mama and papa?”

“I believe that they already approve of this match.” He said matter of factly.

“Is that so?” You wondered.

You walk back to the parlor, daydreaming of your future with Mr. Steven Grant.

The next few days flew by in the blink of an eye. Before he knew it Steven was standing in a crowded room of people he had barely met, waiting for you to arrive. To say that he was excited was very much an understatement.

Everything was going smoothly. He had spoken to a few of his colleagues and dodged hopeless mamas in search of any man to hand their daughters off to.

Then you finally arrived. Your brother was the one who found him first. Giving Steven a firm pat on the back.

“Good to see you again, Old Friend!” He shouted happily. “How are you feeling tonight?”

“A bit nervous, but I am excited to see where tonight takes us.” Steven replied. “I’m glad we spoke the other day.”

Howard bowed his head. Steven knew that his old friend wanted nothing but the best for them. His sister finally joined them as they were speaking in hushed voices.

“Mr. Grant, lovely to see you again.” You curtsied at him and he bowed back in response.

“Miss Benette, you look absolutely beautiful.” He said in awe, earning a blush that was slowly creeping onto the apples of your cheeks. “Would you care for a dance?”

“I would be delighted.” You reply quickly.

The music started to play softly as Steven took you to the dance floor. In a moment, Marc took over since he was the more coordinating dancer of the lot. He tried to keep their expression soft to mimic Stevens. He concentrated on you as they waltzed around the dance floor with the other patrons of the ball.

He was indeed having fun with you. For the first time, in a very long time, he genuinely smiled. This sparked a flame within Marc as such as the first time you danced with Steven. Now there were two of them falling deeply in love with the woman in front of them.

Once the song ended, they both bowed to each other and smiled. There was definitely a connection between the two people. Marc extended his hand and took you to the balcony. It was quiet and there were barely any people around. She rested her head against his shoulder as they stared at the stars together.

Are you ready for this, mate?  Marc heard Steven ask. He took a deep breath and nodded slightly before letting Steven take back over.

Don’t fuck this up.  Marc said before Steven began to talk.

“Miss Benette?” Steven asked before pulling away from you. “There is something I need to discuss with you.”

She turned to look at him, a bit confused. 

“You can tell me anything, Mr. Grant.” She smiled.

“Well, the truth is, I came out here with you to propose.” He stated. He saw her face light up instantly. “But I do need to tell you the truth about something rather serious.”

He could tell you were confused by the way your eyebrows knitted together. Marc did the same thing when he was confused.

“It’s not the easiest thing to speak of, but I have been going through this ever since I was a child.”

“Steven.” You said softly. This made him look up at you. “Please tell me everything.”

So that’s where he began. He told you about his brother, and his mother. The trauma that he had experienced as a child. And now the moment of truth.

“Oh Steven, that sounds awful, I am so sorry.” You rubbed his arm.

“I just, there is one more thing about it all.” He took a deep breath. “I have two other separate personalities inside of me.”

Now you definitely looked confused.

“I do not understand, what do you mean by that?” You asked.

“I mean, There are two other people inside of this one mind.” He explained softly. “There are technically three of us.”

“You must be jesting.” You giggled.

“Miss Benette, I am being quite serious.” It was Marc who took over. You saw the gleam change in his eyes and then you finally understood.

“Wait, so then if there are three of you in one mind, then are they all called Steven Grant?” You asked quite seriously. You were trying to understand the whole situation, which they understood completely. 

“No, Steven Grant is just the main one.” Marc spoke, turning towards you. “My name is Marc, Marc Spector. We just danced in the ballroom together.”

Your mouth was gaped open. You really couldn’t believe what you were witnessing.

“I knew there was something off about your dancing.” You stated. “It didn’t seem like Steven at all.”

“You would be correct about that statement, mi corazón.” The sudden change of voice made you jump.

“And now are you the third one?” You looked at him puzzled.

“Si, the third and final one. Jake Lockely, at your service, princesa.” He bowed at you.

This was all so much for you to take in. You didn’t know where to begin. 

“Can I.. Can I speak to Steven?” You asked softly. He nodded and then in a flash you saw Steven’s eyes brighten back into himself.

As he looked into your eyes, he saw the glimpse of tears beginning to form. Without thinking, he brought a hand up to cup your cheek.

“Hey there, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, but you needed to know.” He tried soothing you. “I didn’t want you to say yes and it be hidden for our entire lives.”

You sniffled as he explained. It did make a lot more sense. Something you always valued was honesty, just like you saw between your own mother and father.

“I accept then.” You announce.

“Pardon?” Steven looked to you in confusion.

“I accept your proposal.” You respond a little more clearly.

“You do?” He asks and you nod. “You do! Oh blessed!”

He takes you by the waist and lifts you into a spin. You giggle in delight as he sets you down.

“On one condition.”

“Anything.” He agrees.

“This must be kept between only us, and you must announce who is speaking until I can figure you all out”

“We accept this condition.”

Dearest Readers,

It seems that my trained eyes were correct. An engagement between this season’s Diamond and Mr. Steven Grant has been officially announced. Though this news comes two weeks later, I am delighted to say this marriage will be held tomorrow in the beautiful garden of the Benette Residency. Those with invitations will be sure to witness a beautiful ceremony, and reception.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers

4 May, 1815

You stood on the pedestal as the seamstress added the finishing touches to your wedding dress. The day you had waited for finally arrived. As you took in the intricate details of your gown, a knock on the door interrupted the quiet room. It swung open to reveal your brother, Howard, with a warm smile on his face.

"You look radiant, dear sister," Howard praised as he stepped into the room. "Are you ready for this momentous occasion?"

Turning to him, your eyes glistened with joyful tears. “It still feels like a dream.”

Your brother chuckled softly and approached you, adjusting a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, this dream is about to become a beautiful reality. Steven is a good man, and I have no doubt that he will make you happy.”

As Howard's words sank in, a sense of calm washed over you. You were grateful for your brother's support and understanding. The journey to this moment had been filled with unexpected twists and turns, but here you were, on the brink of a new chapter in your life.

"Yes, he is a good man," you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. "And I am ready to embark on this new adventure with him."

Howard's eyes gleamed with pride as he took your hands in his. "Remember, no matter what challenges may come your way, you have the strength and resilience to overcome them. And you will always have family who loves you unconditionally."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you embraced your brother. His unwavering support meant the world to you, especially on a day as significant as this. As you pulled away, a knock at the door. You both look up to see your mother standing there.

With a soft smile, your mother entered the room, her eyes filled with tears of joy at the sight of her daughter in her wedding dress. She walked towards you, her steps deliberate yet filled with love and pride.

"My dearest child," she began, her voice trembling. "You look absolutely stunning. I cannot believe how quickly time has passed, and now you are about to start this new chapter of your life."

You embraced your mother, feeling her warmth and love enveloping you. The three of you stood there in a moment of shared happiness and anticipation for the future.

"Mama, Howard," you said, your voice filled with gratitude. "I am so thankful to have both of you by my side today. Your love and support mean everything to me."

As the three of you shared a tender embrace, the sound of distant music and muffled chatter reached your ears. The realization that the ceremony was about to begin spread a wave of excitement through the room.

With a deep breath, you straighten your posture and met the loving gazes of your mother and brother. They offered you reassuring smiles, filling you with a sense of calm.

"It's time," your mother said softly. "Let's make our way to the garden.”

Taking your brother’s arm, you made your way through the corridors of your home. The soft rustle of your gown against the marble floors seemed to echo your heartbeat as it quickened with each step.

As you approached the double doors leading to the garden, they swung open, revealing a breathtaking scene. 

The garden was transformed into a fairytale setting, with an array of colorful flowers adorning every corner. The soft scent of roses and lilies mingled in the air, creating an ambiance of pure enchantment. Guests were seated in white chairs, their eyes eagerly awaiting the arrival of the bride.

As you stepped out into the sunlight, a hush fell over the audience. All eyes were on you, the vision of beauty and grace walking down the aisle. Your heart swelled as you locked eyes with Steven at the altar. His eyes filled with love, and for the first time you knew for sure it was Steven.

The gentle melody of a string quartet filled the air as you made your way towards your beloved. Every step felt like a dream, and time seemed to stand still as you reached the end of the aisle.

He looked at you with such tenderness and adoration that tears welled up in your eyes.

Steven extended his hand towards you, a wide smile spreading across his face. Taking his hand in yours, you could barely hear his whisper over the pounding of your heart. “You look absolutely stunning.” His soft voice reaching your ears. “I am the luckiest man in the world to have you as my bride.”

You smile gently to him and whisper back, “And I am the luckiest bride in the world to have you become my husband.”

The officiant began the ceremony, the sounds of nature seemed to join in as well. Birds sang in harmony as you both exchanged vows. The words spoken were filled with love and promises for a future together, a future you and Steven both dreamed of.

When the time came to exchange rings, Steven took your hand in his, his touch sending a wave of warmth through you. The ring slid easily onto your finger, a symbol of his commitment and love for you. Then came your turn to place the ring on his finger, sealing your own vows with a promise of forever.

As the officiant pronounced you husband and wife, cheers erupted from your guests, filling the garden with jubilant energy. Steven pulled you close, his lips meeting yours in a sweet and tender kiss. The electricity of the kiss sent a shiver down your spine. You were disappointed when he finally pulled away.

“Later, my love.” The change in his voice didn’t startle you. Just like you had recognized Steven earlier, you knew this was Marc. You smiled shyly at your husband and nodded.

The reception was a celebration of love and joy, with guests laughing and dancing under the twinkling lights that adorned the garden. You and Steven danced together, your heart overflowing with happiness at the realization of your love for each other.

Nearby, Howard raised his glass for a toast, his voice clear and filled with emotion. "To my dear sister and her charming husband, Steven. May your love continue to grow stronger with each passing day, and may your days be filled with laughter and joy."

The guests echoed their approval with heartfelt cheers, and you felt a surge of gratitude for the love and support that surrounded you. As the evening progressed, you found yourself stealing glances at Steven who seemed to navigate the crowd effortlessly.

He caught your eye from across the room and smiled warmly at you. Making your way through the throng of well-wishers, you finally stood face to face with your new husband.

“We should announce our leave, darling.” He said softly.

You nodded in agreement, feeling a tinge of nervousness about what the future of the night held. As Steven led you through the crowd towards the center of the garden, the guests gradually quieted down, turning their attention towards you both.

Steven raised his glass, the tinkling sound cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. "Friends and family," he began, his voice carrying with warmth. "We want to thank each and every one of you for being here today to witness our union. Your presence has made this day even more special, and we are truly grateful."

You watched as Steven's eyes nervously scanned the faces before him, his gaze finally settling on you with a look that spoke volumes. Clearing his throat lightly, he continued, "As we embark on this journey together as husband and wife, we are filled with hope for a future filled with love, laughter, and shared dreams. We are incredibly blessed to have such wonderful people in our lives.”

There was a round of applause from the guests, their faces beaming with happiness for you and Steven. You felt a swell of emotion in your chest, overwhelmed by the love and support surrounding you on this magical day.

Within those few short moments of saying goodbye to your family, you felt the nerves of traveling across town to your new home to melt away as you and Steven climbed into the carriage.

The carriage ride was a quiet one, with only the sounds of the horses' hooves against the cobblestone streets breaking the silence. You sat close to Steven, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as if to reassure you.

You couldn't help but steal glances at your husband. The dim light of the lanterns cast a soft glow on his features, highlighting the contours of his face. Steven caught your gaze and offered you a tender smile, his eyes reflecting the love and affection he held for you.

“Is there something on my face, love?” He asks as you continued to stare.

“Oh!” You blush, and look away quickly. “No, nothing of the sort.”

“Were you just admiring?” His voice changed slightly causing you to look back.

You smile, “Of course.”

This caused Marc to chuckle, and reach out to take your hand. Bringing your knuckles to his lips he kisses them softly. There is a small gap of your lips as he does so.

“Will I be spending our first night with you, Marc?”

He seemed a bit surprised that you said his name. However his shock was replaced with a hint of a dark tint in his eyes. “No, my dear, not unless that is your request.”

You giggle, “Maybe another time. I would very much like Steven to be the consummator of this marriage.”

“As you wish.” He smiles, and the softness returns to Steven’s eyes.

“There you are, darling.” You say softly.

The carriage rolls to a stop in front of an elegant townhouse adorned with ivy climbing up its brick exterior. As you step out onto the cobblestone path, Steven's hand reaches out and you take it instinctively.

The door opens, revealing a warmly lit foyer with flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows on the walls. Steven guides you inside, his presence a comforting anchor to your oncoming nerves. In the hallway of the home, a few servants stand and Steven introduces you to each of them. Your new lady’s maid is a small older woman with a gentle smile.

After the brief introductions, he leads you up the staircase to the bedroom you both will be sharing. You felt a slight shake in your hands as you realized what was about to happen. Your mother had explained how the marriage will be sealed on your first night alone. You didn’t want to admit how nervous it made you feel.

As you entered the bedroom, you saw the warm glow of the fireplace. The soft colors and flowers on the bedside table put a bit of ease over you. Steven led you to the edge of the bed, his eyes filled with tenderness and understanding. He could sense your apprehension and paused, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Darling, there is no need to rush anything tonight,” he said softly, his voice soothing you. “We have all the time in the world to explore this new chapter of our lives.”

His words eased some of your tension, and you felt a sense of gratitude for his patience and understanding. Steven moved to stand in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as he looked into your eyes with unwavering affection.

“You are my partner in every sense of the word,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “I want nothing more than for us to build our relationship on a foundation of love and trust.”

“I…” You begin, but your words fall short.

“What is it, my love?”

“I want to…”

“You want to have me tonight?”

You blush and nod as he finishes what you had been wanting to say. Steven's eyes softened with understanding as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Then it shall be as you wish,” he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.

He takes your hand and helps you stand. Slowly removing his jacket and vest. You watch as his eyes darkened with lust as he stares at you. A blush forming on your cheeks.

Once he removes his vest, he steps towards you and kisses you softly. Gently cupping your cheeks as if to ground you into the kiss. His touch sent a wave of warmth through you, easing the last of your reservations.

The kiss deepens, igniting a fire within you as Steven’s hands roam your body with a gentle yet possessive urgency. Your heart races as you feel his fingers begin to unbutton the top layer of your dress. As he unbuttons the last part, the soft fabric of your dress falls and pools around your feet.

Steven’s lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of tingling warmth in their wake. With each layer of clothing shed between you, you feel the urgency of wanting to be closer to him.

Finally, in the flickering light of the fireplace, you stand before each other in all your vulnerability and desire. He stares at you, his eyes roaming your now naked form.

“So beautiful.” He whispers. “A goddess amongst men, and she is in my wake.”

The blush on your cheeks deepen, and he steps closer to you. His hands grab onto your waist and lift you onto the edge of the bed.

“Lay back against the pillows, my love.” He instructs softly.

As you lay back against the soft pillows, Steven’s gaze never leaves yours. His eyes are dark with desire, it was nothing like you had seen before. He leans in to press a trail of kisses along your collarbone, his hands tracing patterns on your skin.

Every touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire deep within your core. Steven’s hands move with purpose, exploring every curve and dip of your body as if committing it to memory. His lips find yours once more in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

The heat between the both of you is intoxicating. You feel something hard against your thigh and you look down. A blush begins to creep up his face.

“Sorry, I’m a bit too excited.” He mumbles and you smile softly.

“It’s quite alright,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach down to run your hand along his length.

Steven’s breath hitches at your touch, a low groan escaping his lips as he slowly thrusts against your hand. His eyes search yours, seeking permission and reassurance. You meet his gaze with unwavering trust and desire, silently giving him the consent he seeks.

Without breaking eye contact, Steven positions himself above you and presses the tip of his member against your entrance.

“This might feel a bit uncomfortable, love. I promise to stop if you do not like it.”

You nod and look deep into his eyes. He slowly guides himself inside you, the heat and tightness wrapping around him like a warm embrace. A gasp escapes your lips at the feeling of being joined so intimately with him, a mixture of pleasure and slight discomfort washing over you.

Steven’s movements are slow and gentle, his hands holding onto yours as if to anchor himself in this moment. He whispers sweet words of adoration and reassurance, his eyes never leaving yours as he moves with a careful rhythm that soon becomes a dance of shared passion.

As the initial discomfort fades, waves of pleasure begin to build within you, each thrust sending sparks of ecstasy through your body. The room is filled with the sounds of your mingled gasps and moans.

“Such a good girl.” He praises, causing you to let out a soft moan.

You had never been spoken to like this. It sent waves of pleasure down your spine as he continued to whisper praises into your ear. In this intimate moment, there is only you and Steven, bodies moving together in a sacred union of love and desire.

As the intensity builds, you arch your back and wrap your legs around Steven, pulling him closer. His eyes meet yours, filled with passion and devotion.

"I love you," he hisses, and the words send a shockwave of pleasure through you.

Each word, each thrust, brings you closer to the edge. The pleasure builds and builds until it's almost too much to bear.

“I feel funny.” You moan out.

“I know, darling, let go for me.” He responds quickly.

You don’t understand what he means until the pressure in your lower stomach explodes. You grip Steven’s shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as you cry out his name. Your body shaking with intense pleasure. Steven groans and thrusts one last time as he finds his release, filling you with his warmth and completing the bond between you.

His breath is ragged and heavy against your skin. You are still pulsing around his semi-hard length, causing him to groan. As he pulls out, you gasp at the sudden emptiness within you.

“Are you alright, love?” he asks, concern in his voice.

You smile weakly and nod. “Yes, I am. That was… more intense than I anticipated.”

Steven smiles down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m glad.” He gently kisses your forehead.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow, Steven's hand strokes your hair while his other arm holds you close to him. For a moment, all is still and calm.

“This is… different.” you murmur, thinking about all that just happened.

“Different” He repeats “A good different, I hope.”

“Of course.”

Silence envelopes the both of you.

“I have never felt this way before.” He admits. “I never thought I would find love like this.”

You turn your head to look up at him. “Because of… your condition?”

He nods, and kisses your forehead. You snuggle closer to him, feeling content and safe in his arms.

“Marc and I were always too scared, too cautious…but then I saw you.” He says softly, ”And you changed our entire perspective.”

You smile, feeling warmed by his words. "I'm glad I could do that for you."

"I love you," Steven whispers into your ear, holding you tighter.

You smile and whisper back, "I love you too."

Both of you doze off to sleep, cradled in each other's arms, content in the knowledge that no matter what the world throws your way, you have each other to lean on. And with that comforting thought, sleep claims you both.

Epilogue

You sit in the large garden of your family’s summer home and watch as your brother and husband play cricket with the rest of the young men on your side of the family. Your hand rests on the swell of your pregnant belly, your first child, which Steven was delighted to find out about.

The sun was setting, casting a warm golden hue over the scene. Your thoughts drifted back to the night you first shared together. The feelings of love and vulnerability still lingered in your heart, wrapping you in a cocoon of cherished memories. But more than that, you felt a sense of gratitude for finding someone who understood and accepted you just as you were.

Steven looked up and caught your gaze, his eyes locking onto yours across the distance. A smile spread across his face as he raised his hand in a silent greeting. You returned the gesture with a warm smile of your own, feeling an intense surge of love for him.

As the men finished up, you waited for Steven to run over to you and help you out of your seat. You both walked back to the house slowly.

“Did you ever think life would come to be like this?” you ask softly.

“Never in a million years, my darling.”

You both stop walking and turn towards each other. “I am excited for the future.” you say.

“So are we.” He says gently and places a hand on your bump. You place your hand gently on top of his, smiling up at him.

Steven leans down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I will love you till the end of time, love.”

“My moon.”

“My star.”

And with those sweet words, you both continue walking back to the house. The sun set behind you, casting long shadows on the path ahead as your shared journey continued filled with love and hope.

join my taglist! | taglist: @alexxavicry @emma23

[hannahbarberra162]

Victoria Punk Breeding Farm Part 2 (Dark, NON CON, Hybrid Kid Pirates x Reader)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3 | First Part

Hybrid Bull AU, NON CON, DARK

Reader x Kid, Killer, Heat & Wire

Happy birthday Killer!! For your birthday present you are not in this chapter :3

A continued thank you to - @don-mellow for your incredible Bullstass art that inspired me. Thank you to @gouraminnow and @quinloki for beta'ing this for me as I whined about it.

Wire POV

The little heifer was a touch more clever than most, Wire conceded as he watched you from afar. He’d been following you for about fifteen minutes as you attempted your escape. You hadn’t made it very far in terms of distance, taking your time to ensure you were undetected. Well, you thought you were undetected. You didn't know but the crew was still watching you in their den on CCTV and Wire was observing you downwind where you wouldn’t be able to smell him as easily.

You had quickly determined which direction you wanted to set off in, you probably saw the river when you came in that shitty van earlier in the day. Before heading north, you tried taking off the cowbell but found it was locked. Instead of holding the hammer with one hand to prevent it from making noise like some of the other cows had, you stuffed the bell with dirt and grass, which left both your hands free. It wasn’t that the other cows were stupid or anything, but they often let their nerves get the better of them and made foolish mistakes. You also tried rubbing dirt all over your body to dull your scent and the smell of Kid and Killer, another wise move. Kid had mentioned they weren’t your first or second farm and that you’d been sold off for bratty behavior so he wasn’t all that surprised to see you try to take off. In fact, it made his night. 

You were now carefully passing through an open field. If you had stopped to read the sign in the light of the moon, you might have noticed the warning to watch out for bulls in rut. But instead you passed right by, scurrying along in the dim light while trying to remain as quiet and unnoticed as possible. Wire had tracked you from the fence until you hit the middle of the field where there wasn’t any cover. Deciding he had enough chasing for the night, Wire got up from his own concealed position and walked straight towards you.

“Killer warned you little cow,” Wire taunted loudly, swishing his long tail as he spoke his first words to you. “You were told to stay in your pen and be a good little heifer, that running wouldn’t help ya. And now you’re about to find out why. You can come with me now and things can end the easy way or take your chances and things will end the fun way,” he continued, smiling widely. Wire loved this part of his job the most. Sure, he liked everything about working for Kid - the fucking, the fighting, the booze, his friends - but chasing down runaway cows was his favorite part of the job. His cock had been hard since Kid turned on the TV and now it was twitching in anticipation of your imminent capture. He really hoped you went the fun route. 

Your eyes were wide as you remained in your crouched position and Wire smelled fear wafting his direction. It only made his cock harder as he imagined you thinking through all your current options. He hoped you chose to run, it was always better that way. Telegraphing your plans, you braced yourself against the ground as Wire continued casually strolling towards you. He made sure he wasn’t all that close, maybe 50 or so feet away. It was enough for you to think that you had a chance to get away, that you might be able to outrun him. You wouldn’t, but you didn’t know that. You'd find out soon.

He stopped and let the gravity of the situation hit you. And just like Wire predicted, you bolted. His laugh resounded loudly through the empty field making you run even faster as he pulled the lariat off his belt. Wire made his loop and began swinging it overhead, laughing all the while.

Your POV

You stopped as you heard the bull speaking to you. You didn’t know how he’d found you so quickly, you had tried your best to conceal your path, your footprints and your scent. In the light of the moon he looked like a devil sent from hell to drag you back down. His horns were the longest you’d ever seen and they seemed to glow from within. He was wearing some kind of black flowing robe that accentuated his muscles as he walked leisurely towards you. He almost seemed indifferent to the fact that he was chasing you down but for his tail twitching with excitement. You remained frozen until the bull’s hearty laugh had you running as fast as your sore legs could carry you. 

You didn’t want to look back and determine if he was chasing you down as you ran through the open field. Any second that was spent not running would be wasted against a bull that size. You could only hear your blood rushing through your veins as you raced towards the forest at the far end of the clearing. If you made it there maybe you’d be able to lose him among the trees or at least you’d have a better chance than being in the wide open field. Your legs burned with exhaustion as your breath was coming in short spurts but you forced your body to continue onward. Just as you approached the tree line, you felt something tighten around your ankle. It was like you hit an invisible wall as you landed hard on the ground with a thud. You attempted to scramble up again but realized your ankle was caught in a lasso. Turning over onto your butt you tried to get the loop off your leg but it was being pulled tight by the now too close bull. He was practically dragging you to him with how taut he was pulling the rope.

“Looks like you want the fun way, hm? Fun for me anyways,” he drawled as you kept trying to get the rope off. You hadn’t realized how tall he was until he was looming over you, his incredible horns further accentuating your fear.

“D-don’t want ngh any kind of way,” you grunted, still trying to make your escape. The bull laughed again as he squatted down by your torso, the rest of the rope now coiled again in his hand. He pushed you onto your back, putting you at a disadvantage. You could still figure out something to escape if you thought quickly enough.

“Too bad,” he said with mock sympathy, reaching for you. You put up your hands to stop him from touching your body, the two of yours fitting into one of his own. “Never had a heifer assist in her own hogtie before,” he said with a laugh. He captured your wrists in his hand and sunk his knee into your hamstrings, forcing your calves in the air. Faster than your next breath, he’d tied your wrists together and bound them to your ankles. The speed and expertise with which he bound you told you this wasn’t his first rodeo. The ropes were tight and you were unable to dislodge them but they weren’t painful or cutting off your circulation. 

“Let me go!” you screamed, thrashing as much as you could. There was no sense in being quiet or sneaky anymore, your attempt had been discovered. 

“Nah,” he said, sitting down on the grass by you. He pulled you into his lap so that your cunt was inches from his face, your wrists and legs now dangling backwards over your head. One of his hands was on your inner thigh, easing your legs apart while the other was on your hip, keeping you steady. You felt like a crab that had been flipped over to reveal your soft underbelly. “Oh, looks like Kid was here already, yeah? Good thing for you,” he said, a thick finger suddenly stroking your wet slit. You knew you were wet from earlier but you hoped he couldn’t tell not all of it was old. Your body was responding to the bull even as you still wanted to get away.

“Yeah, you probably get off on hurting hybrids smaller than you. Making defenseless cows bleed and cry,” you hissed, unsuccessfully trying to close your legs. Your position, gravity, and his large hand were all working against you as you felt his hot breath on your thighs and bare cunt. You squirmed and tried to reposition yourself farther from his mouth. There had only been one time before where a bull had licked you there and you hadn’t enjoyed it at all. It felt wrong and weird and you’d kicked the bull in the face to get him away.  

“Nah, I’m not gonna hurt ‘cha. At least, not in ways you won’t like,” he said, his eyes no longer on your face but on your cunt. He removed his hand from your hip and used his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips for his inspection.

“I d-don’t like th-this,” you stammered as he hiked you up further onto your back.

“You will. I watched ya moan and cream all over Kid’s cock earlier, I know what kind of cow you are,” he said in a low voice, his aquiline nose now grazing your folds. You shuddered and fisted your hands tightly, your fingernails digging into the skin of your palms. You tried to mentally prepare for what was coming but your nerves were already shot.

“Wh-hat kind of cow am I?” you asked, hoping the venom in your voice would convey self assurance that you didn’t feel.

“A nasty one. The kind of cow who wants nothing more than to be put in her place and bred by bulls until she cries. The kind of cow whose messy, sloppy pussy is telling me she’s glad she got run down and tied up. The kind of cow who’s going to come on the tongue of some bull she’s never met before over and over again. That kind of cow,” he said, his fingers spreading your lips even wider. You couldn’t see him but you were sure he wore a large grin. You kept your mouth shut as his warm, flat tongue licked you from your hole to the top of your clit. It didn’t hurt, like he said, but it felt foreign and strange. 

“Nice pussy you got,” he said, smacking your lips. If you opened your mouth you were going to squeak or scream so you ignored his stupid ass comment and kept your jaw clenched tight. “You can try to keep yourself quiet if you want, there’s no sound on the cams anyway,” he said offhandedly. You really wanted to know more about the cameras but didn’t take the bait to answer. 

It seemed like the bull took your silence as acceptance as he began licking your cunt like it was a lollipop. You tried to shake him off a few times but all it got you was a nip to your inner thigh before he turned his attention back to your pussy. He teased you by laving the point of his tongue against your clit repeatedly until your legs shook, alternating with dipping his tongue into your hole. You couldn’t imagine what his cock was like if just his tongue was delving so deeply into you. His head bobbed as he ate at you, your teeth grinding against each other to keep them clenched tight. You desperately wanted to grab his horns and pull him closer if only to end the torment that much sooner. 

“Still quiet, eh? Let’s see if we can get you to say somethin’” he said, picking his head up momentarily from your folds. He was taking your silence for what it was - a challenge. He changed the angle he was holding you, setting you against his bent legs. Now you were at a 45 degree angle as one of his arms wrapped around your torso to hold you securely. You didn’t know exactly what he was doing until you felt his fingertips prodding at your seeping cunt. 

“ Y’can take two,” he said, stuffing them into you slowly. You rocked your hips back at the intrusion but soon he was working the digits in and out of you with ease. The lewd squelching of your dripping cunt was making you flush even as you wanted to keen from his attention. You could take it, you thought, you’d be able to bear it without making noises. 

Until.

His mouth descended back to slurp you while his fingers curled on something deep within you. It was like an electric shock - not the bad kind you’d gotten at your previous farm - but like your whole body was a live wire. The bull’s fingers roamed until he found some spot within you and pressed on it. You didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help it, it just slipped out - you moaned.

“There’s my good little heifer,” the bull laughed as his fingers prodded and rubbed within you. “You tried real hard, kept it up a while,” he said, pushing at that special spot. The pressure was doing something unfamiliar to you, making you feel like you were wound too tight like something was going to burst in you.

“N-no, don’t - don’t do that,” you whined. You wanted to stretch your hands over your head but weren’t able to move them farther without opening yourself up to the bull more. 

“Or else what?” the bull taunted from between your legs. He worked you quickly into a fervor, licking and finger fucking you until your toes were curling. You would never admit it but he was right - you did enjoy the sensation of his mouth on your pussy, the strong muscle bringing you closer and closer to coming.

You figured you’d already broken your silent streak and you needed an outlet for the feeling rising within you. “ Oh my gods I’m guh-gonna cuh -” you moaned out, ready for your imminent climax. You were so close to coming over this bull’s face, you wanted to with every fiber in your being. All he had to do was keep going, keep licking and fingering you…but he stopped right before your precipice.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” you cried out, your frustration escaping as anger. You wanted to kick or stamp your feet but they were still bound to your ankles. It wouldn’t do well to provoke the bull who was giving you pleasure but it hadn’t stopped your hot temper before.

“Nah, you say my name when you come or you don’t come at all. Got it?” 

“Wh-what’s your na-name?” you asked, your knees trying to close around his head.

“Oh oops, didn’t tell ya. Wire,” he said with a shrug before leaning back down into you. He started again, his jaw working hard to lick at you like you were a delicious meal. His strong fingers prodded and stroked your sensitive spot and you were panting just moments later. 

“Good cows get to come, yeah? Say my name or I’ll ruin it for ya,” Wire demanded. You nodded, unable to string together a coherent thought as he pistoned his fingers in and out of you. Resuming his previous position, Wire licked his way from his fingers to suck your clit gently in his mouth. One moment of the pressure you came screaming his name into the night. He continued to suck softly as you rode his face as best you could, humping his fingers and nose. Finally you began to come down off your high, your chest heaving as Wire removed his fingers and licked them clean.

You were still panting as he untied your ankles from your wrists and you let your limbs splay outwards and your arms rest over your head. Wire was rubbing your ankles now that they were unbound, checking the ankle he’d yanked with nimble fingers. You didn’t give a shit what he did right now, you felt boneless and could see why some cows begged their bulls for such an act. Not that you would ever beg for anything from these assholes but you could see the appeal. 

“Your ankle’s fine,” he told you, setting your leg down more gently than you expected.

“Like you give a shit”, you snapped. You weren’t fooled, he just didn’t want their investment to be destroyed. Kid would probably take it out of his paycheck - or hide- if he seriously hurt you. Wire grunted but rolled you onto your stomach and pulled you to elbows and knees since your wrists were still bound.

“Nothing’s injured there either, asshole,” you hissed at him, unable to push yourself to your hands. Wire didn’t answer but you heard the sound of fabric swishing and a zipper being undone. Wire’s heavy cloak hit the ground as he threw it behind him. 

“H-hey, wait -” you said, trying to move your legs under you and get out of position. You were tired, sore, and didn’t want to be used by any other bulls. All you wanted to do was pass out and plan your next escape, not get fucked yet again.

“I don’t want - no, please -” you pleaded as Wire lined himself up, his fat tip pressing against your core. There was something metal on his cockhead pressing against you, making you arch your back up. You felt him pause momentarily but continue to move forward as a hand pressed on your lower back to lower it back into position.

“Won’t hurt, loosened you up first,” he grunted, holding up your slim tail in one huge hand as he eased his way inside. His left hand found its way to your horn, gripping it as he mounted you from behind. He was gentle with your horn, holding but not squeezing as he used it as leverage to insert himself into you slowly. Even though you’d been under Kid earlier in the day the stretch was still intense. You whined in your throat as he bottomed out in you. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant but still uncomfortable as your body struggled to accommodate his huge cock. 

Wire started a slow rhythm moving forward inch by inch and retreating just as slowly. Soon the discomfort was replaced by pleasure as he worked himself in and out of you.

“See? Doesn’t ngh hurt,” he murmured, now grabbing both of your horns and leaving your tail to swish by itself. He used the roughened pads of his fingers to rub where they sprouted from your head. It felt too good, too euphoric so you shook your head to get him off. Wire simply held on tighter and pointed your head forward as he fucked you faster, never stopping his movements. 

“Pussy’s so fuck tight, can’t believe this is your third farm. Can’t wait hah to breed this pussy full, have you dripping with my come shit from this nasty little slit,” Wire babbled to you, his pace increasing. It felt vulgar to have him holding you by the horns to fuck you like you were some lowly animal but you couldn’t deny it was turning you on just a little. Wire reached down and grabbed one of your dangling breasts, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“G’na make milk for us, yeah? G’na be nnnn good little cow let us milk hah hah you? G’na have me suckin’ on these sweet titties, drinkin’ like a king while you come on my cock,” Wire started pulling on your nipple with his index and middle finger while the other fingers massaged your breast, like he was milking you already.

You could tell yourself a lot of things. You could tell yourself that you were overwhelmed, that you were tired and aching, that you were angry, upset, that you just wanted to go home. But as it stood Wire was rubbing your horn, pulling on your nipple and pounding you from behind with his pulsing cock and talking dirty into your ear. You couldn't keep it all together, you…-

You mooed. 

Wire paused for a moment then barked out a cruel laugh that had you ducking your head. “Is that so little cow? Fucked so good you moo for me? Kid's g’na be so fuckin’ mad it wasn't him that got it out of you first,” he snickered like this was something funny for him. Cows were known to moo when overstimulated but it had never happened to you before.

“Good little heifer, mooin’ on our first go. I wasn’t gonna shit hah let you come again but how can I refuse such a unggh sweet moo? Usually nnnh takes a few more ungh fuck shit g’na fuckin..’” Wire let go of your horn and reached under you to rub at your clit with three of his fingers. You clenched down hard on his cock as he brought your sensations to a crescendo. He was playing your body like an instrument, making you senseless with sensation as his pace increased faster and faster. He was pushing you rapidly towards another unwanted orgasm as pounded into you, his thighs slapping against your own as the coil in your stomach wound tighter until you could hardly bear it. You were moaning softly as you climbed higher in your pleasure but needing something to tip you over the edge.

Wire leaned down over you and bit your horn hard. Without warning the coil in you snapped as you came for him a second time, this time shrieking from the intensity. He rode you hard while you came pushing himself towards his own release. Finally you felt him shoot his come inside you, the hot white ropes splashing out of your overstuffed cunt. You collapsed onto your stomach as Wire pulled out, your bound arms trapped underneath your body. This time you didn’t open your eyes after your orgasm ended because there was nothing left of you. You had no more energy or fight, you couldn’t do anything but lay on the soft grass as the night wind chilled your skin. 

Wire rolled you to your side and untied your wrists, rubbing them like he had your ankles. You didn’t resist or try to escape, that would have to wait for another time. After untying you he rolled you onto your back and began kissing your sore tits. You began crying in earnest now, you couldn’t do another session with Wire, you just couldn’t -

“Alright, get off her. She’s done, I’m taking her back,” a blue haired bull said gruffly as Wire picked his head up from your body. The new bull scooped you up easily from the ground, your limbs dangling like a ragdoll from his strong arms. Wire grumbled but moved to a sitting position. What did they put in the water to make all the bulls here so large? 

“Only went one round Heat, I didn’t even get ta -”

“Your dick’s not gonna fall off, you can have ‘er later,” the blue haired bull said dismissively, already turning back towards the barn. He was strange looking and had been branded all over his face and arms but you didn’t even bother staring as you sagged in his arms. Sighing, he grabbed Wire’s cloak off the ground from where he threw it and wrapped it over you before resuming walking. Now you had to straighten up again - the last time that you let your guard down you’d ended up over Killer’s lap with his fingers up your ass. The new bull glanced down at you and grunted.

“Yer alright, nothing else’s gonna happen tonight,” he said quietly. You didn’t reply, not trusting his word. He shifted you in his arms so your head was resting against his shoulder as he carried you back to the lit barn. You let yourself rest just for the moment, it wasn't like you'd be doing anything in the next few minutes anyway. The walk was shorter than you remembered and soon he undid the simple gate lock and entered the warm, cosy barn. Entering your stall, he sat down on the same large chair Killer had before. You tried to get out of his hold but he easily kept you on his lap as he clipped your collar back to your line. Frowning, he turned your bell over and saw the debris you’d put there earlier.

“Smart,” he remarked, digging out the dirt and leaves. Once he was done the hammer could hit the bell once again, leaving you exactly where you started. Well, not exactly. You were exhausted, had more bruises and aches and now had Wire’s come dripping down your legs. Tears beaded on your lash line as you waited for whatever else Heat was going to do to you. You couldn’t take much more, at least not tonight. Heat pulled you close to his chest and sat with you in silence. 

It was wrong on so many levels but Heat was warm, calm, and smelled faintly of peppermint. You buried your head into his chest under Wire’s robe and avoided his gaze as he sat with you on his lap, stroking your skin gently. He didn’t say anything as an errant sniffle turned into a sob which turned into a long cry. Heat held you as you bawled, snot and tears running down your face in equal measure. You were crying for your family, for your freedom, for your future, for anything and everything. No other farm had ever made you feel a loss of control like this one and you didn’t know what your next steps would be. Through it all Heat held you and stroked your flank as you cried into his chest, rubbing your face on his healed wounds. Eventually your cries petered out and turned into hiccups as you calmed yourself down. Heat moved you off his chest and took a look at your red face, brushing some of your tears away with his thumb.

“You can be strong and resist again tomorrow, little cow. We’ll like you just the same,” Heat said as he stood up and placed you on your cot. You laid down obediently and he  covered you with the heavy wool blanket. 

“Good night, little cow,” he said, turning off the lights overhead. You were asleep before he’d left the barn.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff

[lu-is-not-ok]

As a follow-up to the "What's Hong Lu's WAW on the Battlepass going to be?" question: Who do you think it'll be paired with? You know, like Sunshower Outis with the Yi Sang version, Blind Obsession Ryoshu with the Ishmael version, Binds Outis with the Heathcliff version, and Mircalla Meursault with the Don Quixote version?

Are you defaulting to Sinclair owing to him also not having a WAW yet? Or do you have personal ideas for each individual choice of options you have?

My take is that Sinclair would either get a WAW during the Sweeper Intervallo (reminder we got Faust Everlasting during TKT, so it's not impossible for us to get an Event WAW), or he will be the one paired up with Hong Lu in the Battle Pass.

That being said, my earlier choices for Hong Lu's WAWs didn't really take Sinclair into consideration. Mainly because Sinclair is a character I don't tend to read into as often since Canto 3 is my least fave Canto. (before you stake me to a nail, I do like it, I just find it being in this weird spot of not being as efficient as Cantos 1 and 2 but also not really comparing well to the Cantos that came after it leaves it feeling kind of mid to me)

Now, if I were to assign other Sinners to the Abnos I picked for Hong Lu...

Spider of Marriage - Don Quixote (though she's unlikely to get another WAW so soon after her own BP), Faust, or Heathcliff.

Children in the Flask - Faust or Meursault (again, unlikely due to getting a WAW this season).

Wandering Mind - Yi Sang, Outis, and Faust.

...Ok so I didn't make that former list with Faust in mind, but she kinda fits all of them surprisingly well?????? I don't know what to do about that information.

Also, for Yin/Yang the other one I'd see recieving this E.G.O is Rodya for many many reasons.

[venacavaflora]

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ Dad who keeps his aggression a secret. he’s always quiet, always stoic, yet it never seems like it. to you at least. all his attention, effort, worry, and focus is on you. conversing with friends about weekend plans or shopping trips, and somehow not having to ask him to ever change his schedule for you.

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ he adores you, and adores everyone knowing you’re the biggest Daddy’s girl. so when he sits you on his lap and explains how you’re always such a good girl for him, how you always take instruction so well, how much he adores his kind little girl, it's not unusual to you.

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ when his hands start to massage your thighs and the knots out your lower back, it’s normal for you. hearing him ask you to trust him, however, was new. feeling his fingers graze higher and higher, such caution in his touch gave you goosebumps.

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ when his palm finds its way sliding over your collarbone, feeling you swallow and the rush of your carotid, you’re not scared, but curious. “you know Daddy would never hurt you, not unless you wanted me to, isn’t that right sweet girl? you know i’d only ever make you feel good, hm?”

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ you nod as much as you can with his hand on your neck, flustered as thoughts of after-school drives, late-night talks, and cuddle sessions fill your head. “Dad wants to try something new, kiddo. can you take a slow, deep breath, and hold still for me?”

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ he lets you get about halfway through the breath before his fingers tighten. the feeling of your air seeping slower and slower into your lungs, the pressure of his thigh pushing into your panties, time feels like it’s slowing down. “just breathe, princess. thatsss it, just breathe, and relax for Daddy.”

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ he knew the added security of him holding onto your waist was all it would take to feel your body soaking into his, and soak you did. your vision was starting to blur, his whispers of praise sounded further away, and your heartbeat getting closer. “i want you __ ____ no matter what ___ _______ my perfect toy.”

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ you whimpered and grabbed his arm, clawing as he chuckled. he couldn’t help but pull you closer, looking down at your nail with his initial on it being the cherry on top, and giving you one last squeeze. your sight is fading before you feel air finally able to flood your lungs again, feeling the weight of one hand still on your throat and another rubbing your back.

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻“breathe, slowly, there you go. such a good girl, i’m so proud of you kiddo. you trusted Daddy completely and fully, so proud!” coughing with your eyes welling up, taking deep breaths whilst being handed a cup of water. the wet spot in your panties almost made you feel like it wasn’t needed.

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ the sight in front of him could convince him you were an angel. turning you around to drink every detail in, “my beautiful girl. i want you to be prepared for that to happen often. think of it as a really deep kiss from Dad, to show how much i love my darling little princess. to remind you your daddy will always be here, needing, and wanting you.” bear hugging you and kissing your sweat-sheened forehead <3