#tried to list some new interaction ideas

[circlebuttons]

Simon Riley as a father

-father!simonriley who returns home from deployment to his toddler son wanting nothing to do with him

Simon Riley doesn't just want a wife and kids. He wants to be a husband and father, so when your toddler starts to velcro himself to you Simon tries very hard not to take it personally. It was merely just a coincidence that your toddler developed this new obsession with you during Simon’s last deployment, but that doesn’t make him feel any less guilty. Your son is in a phase where he just wants to be under you twenty four seven, even having meltdowns in Simon’s arms some days when you have to leave home without him. It's endearing how he follows you around like a little duckling and gives you the sweetest little hugs and kisses just because, but the issue arises the more he starts giving Simon glares for even daring to try to join the two of you in hand holding or wedging his little footie covered body between the two of you in bed. Your son meets Simon with rejection just about any chance he gets no matter how many times you try to remind him to be kind to his father, and you can tell by Simon’s expressions and body language that it stings a lot of the time. You make sure to love on him extra when you have moments alone, assuring him often that in a few days this new phase will be over, your hand lightly massaging his shoulder, reaching across said toddler who's sound asleep with his arms and legs strewn across the two of you.

It isn't until Simon saves the day with his remarkable dad strength that he's no longer on your toddlers shit list. You're in the kitchen making lunch for both of them when your son appears at your side with a juice he's pulled from the pantry with your permission. He hands it to you to open but the character head attached to the nozzle always makes the bottle hard to grip and open, especially when your nails are done. You grunt softly after trying to open it a few times, an idea popping into your head after your last failed attempt. You crouch down slightly to be on his level before flitting your eyes over to Simon sitting quietly at the kitchen island, eyes glued to the screen of his laptop and by the way he quickly typed and furrows his eyebrow you can tell he's answering last minute work emails. You nod to him and quietly suggest that, "Maybe if you go ask daddy nicely and give him a big kiss he'll open it."

He thinks it over for a few seconds before pattering over to Simon, determination in his eyes as he pulls at his pant leg. You watch as his eyebrows shoot high up, surprised at the interaction before he effortlessly opens the bottle with a smile. His eyes catch yours when he leans down to receive his "thank you" and cheek kiss, mouthing an excited "You see this?"

You nod excitedly at him, happy that your boys are loving on each other again, what more could you want?

[brettanomycroft]

Sam fumbled Gwen’s Bonzo reveal… but he’d been primed to do so

I suspect that there's going to be a LOT of conversation around Sam after this episode, and since this episode was so good that I couldn't think of a meme or shitpost, I decided I'd throw my hat into the ring and do some character analysis instead. CW: Spoilers for The Magnus Protocol episode 18, "Solo Work" under the cut.

Episode 18 finally gave us the Sam and Gwen interaction I (and I think a lot of others) have been so desperate to finally see, and boy oh boy do I have Thoughts… none of which are new per se, but Sam’s reaction to Gwen dropping the Bonzo Bomb seems to have reinforced  the way I’ve been reading (and projecting in fanfiction oops) Sam, his personality, and his motivations.

Out of everyone new we’ve been introduced to so far, Sam has by far gotten the most explicit development and conversation around his personality. Even before episode 1, folks who participated in the ARG got a preview of our favorite baby shrimp’s personality through access to the child database spreadsheet that was, presumably, used to document the results of the experiments run on children participating in The Magnus Institute’s “gifted and talented program.” From this spreadsheet, we can gather that Baby Sam is logical, empathetic, works towards the benefit of others (prosocial), and fair… but also a rule follower and highly willing to follow the lead of an authority figure, even if it is in conflict with his personal views. The picture this information paints is an interesting one, but when taken in a vacuum leaves us with an impression of Sam as someone who is kind but lacking in backbone.

This idea of Sam as “kind but lacking in backbone” is further reinforced in canon, as Alice of multiple occasions rags on him for being “noodly” and “ickle fawn” and a “baby shrimp,” all seeming to highlight that Sam has the sort of helplessness about him typically ascribed to sopping wet kittens and baby birds. And I think that if we view Sam’s outburst when Gwen brings up Bonzo through this lens alone, it’s going to seem WAY out of character for him and a downright cruel response.

Now while I do believe that Sam is empathetic and fair and, sometimes, a little helpless, I’ve been inclined to believe from early on that much of Sam’s affable self-deprecation is a way to cover or soften what can be, at times, a tendency to be hard-headed, temperamental, a little manipulative, and petty (and I’m totally not just saying that as a people-pleaser-and-gifted-kid-in-recovery who has been projecting hard on Sam since Day 1). And it’s this second batch of personality traits, the ones that make Sam so real and interesting to me, that I think set up the disaster of a conversation between Sam and Gwen.

We have definitely seen hints of Sam’s hard-headedness and manipulative leanings in previous episodes: it comes out most often around Alice, showing his stubbornness in the form of refusing to give up his lines of questioning and curiosity about what is happening in the cases and at the OIAR; and revealing his willingness to manipulate a situation the form of subtly redirecting Alice’s focus away from prying into his crush on Celia and during the mocha incident (I have, of course, already explored Sam’s manipulative tendencies in my totally comprehensive shitpost).

And we’ve even been shown at times before episode 18 where Sam can be petty, his buzzed insistence that Alice try and keep things “professional” at work after his date with Celia being at the top of the list. The case headers filed for “Putting Down Roots” and “Pet Project” also suggest to me Sam’s ability to be stubborn and petty: in both instances, Alice and Gwen suggest a different classification than the one that Sam ultimately files. In the case of Gwen in “Pet Project,” she’s dismissive of him when he tries to ask if she’s all right.

While there’s no way to know for sure, I interpret this interaction as part of the reason why Sam ultimately disregarded Gwen’s suggestion for how to file the case—she shut him down and shut him out, and the petty part of his heart couldn’t resist ignoring her recommendation out of spite. This scene also begins to lay the foundations for Sam and Gwen’s interactions in episode 18 and, I suspect, the rest of the season.

So with all of this in mind, let’s look at episode 18. When Gwen emerges from Lena’s office, Alice has just finished shutting Sam down, again. Throughout most of this season, Sam has been desperate for some validation that the cases they are listening to are real, that whatever happened to him at The Magnus Institute was real, and that him pursuing this line of questioning and wanting to find answers isn’t a waste of his time. Alice has, of course, been not-so-gently nudging him away from this line of thinking for most of the season, while Gwen has been icing him out about it up until this point. Just about the only one who has given his questioning any air has been Celia who is, conveniently, not there. Even after Alice has her very own supernatural experience that is reaffirmed in the case Sam receives, she strongly pushes back on his idea that they should investigate and pursue this further. He understands why she doesn’t want to learn more, but it’s clear that he’s still frustrated at the end of the conversation.

Enter Gwen. Here, for the first time, it seems like she’s opening up about what is going on at the OIAR, and Sam is immediately hooked, even dropping his softer and sympathetic side when Alice tries to redirect with one of her classic barbs.

After being shut down time and time again, Sam is so eager for confirmation that there is more to all of this than meets the eye. And then Gwen says the B-word, and Sam loses it.

Sam is laughing here, but honestly? I think he’s angry, and his reaction is one of complete disbelief that Gwen would set him up like this just to, in his mind, take the piss out of him. He thinks that, at best, Gwen is having a breakdown and he’s once again being shut out or, at worst, Gwen is making a joke at his expense. Now, he’s used to being the butt of a joke thanks to being friends with Alice, but despite that we’ve never heard him call her an asshole the way he does Gwen. Temperamental and petty, turning around his hurt and anger over being stonewalled again and again to lash out at Gwen with his joke.

And honestly, can you blame him? (I can’t.)

Of course this wasn’t the ideal reaction. I have been waiting for Sam and Gwen to have a serious heart-to-heart about what’s going on forever, and Sam pretty much blew that chance without even realizing it. And I would be surprised if we get an apology out of him anytime soon, not only because this interaction is likely to push Gwen away from wanting to even be around Sam, but also because he’s not going to believe that Gwen wasn’t making fun of him or that Gwen isn’t having a delusional breakdown until he sees Mr. Bonzo with his own two eyes.

I also think this conversation would have gone very differently had Celia been there instead of Alice. Sam’s slew of psychological testing suggests he’s willing to follow the leader, and in this case he doesn’t seem immune to Alice’s general dismissiveness of Gwen. He may have even been primed to lash out at Gwen in this moment because Alice is constantly ragging on her; chameleon-like, he’ll take on the shade of the strongest personality when he’s on uncertain or dangerous footing. It’s almost a guarantee that Celia would have taken Gwen seriously, not only because she’s likely from or connected to the TMA-verse of horrors, but also because it was Celia who received the first Mr. Bonzo case. And had Celia been there to temper the disbelief, Sam would have absolutely been ready to hear Gwen out in full. I honestly cannot wait for Celia to be back in office; she’s going to walk in to these new, rancid office vibes like Troy from Community walking into the whole room on fire while casually carrying the pizza.

So, what do I think this means for the rest of the season? Well, the title of this episode seems telling: Solo Work. Gwen and Sam’s respective desires for their experiences to be validated and their goals to be taken seriously paired with the seeming dismissiveness of those around them are going to push them along their separate paths, dangerously alone. And I suspect that it is only going to be Celia or, more likely, an encounter with Bonzo, that is going to put them back on the same path—if it happens at all. Good luck, babes!

[decaying-church]

Kinktober Day 4: Hate Sex + Patrick Bateman

Patrick Bateman x male!reader

Kinktober 2023 List | Day 1 | Day 5 | Ao3

(a/n: shout out to the people that sent request for today yall came in clutch. )

Summary: Working for Patrick Bateman was hell. A hell that seemed to improve after he tried to kill you

Warning: rough sex, these bitches hate each other, reader has a thing for bloody men, Patrick tries to kill reader, then they fuck, fucking on desk, slight voyeurism, unprotected sex, unsafe sex, fucked over a desk, reader gets his dick sucked, reader being a bad Dom (cuz they hate eachother), not beta reader, not even a little bit, errors that will be fixed tomorrow cuz I'm sleepy.

Words: 1968

It wasn’t hard to hate Patrick Bateman, he was an entitled asshole to the misfortune of both you and him, you were his new secretary.

Well “new” as in most recent, as his last one had good missing, while you didn't like the idea of becoming the secretary of a rich man whose secretaries consistently went missing, you didn't really have a choice, rent was due and they offered to pay you on a biweekly basis, which you really needed, so you joined the team.

But god, Patrick was the most insufferable prick you’ve ever met. So demanding and so fucking needy and impatient and selfish and cruel and inappropriate with every word he spoke to you.

You hated him, and he hated you.

He resented you because he wasn’t attracted to you, you weren’t the pretty, female secretary he was used to. You could tell he liked having that power over women from the way he treated other people secretaries, kind and flirtatious before some kind of switch seemed to flip in his mind mid interaction and he was suddenly he was his true self, a needy, perverted asshole.

You never got the nice side, from day one he’s always been your asshole boss, you do half of his work and barely even get a thank you, it’s truly and honestly ridiculous.

You made sure to tell him how much you hated him every chance you got, your contract made it so you had to be employed under Patrick for at least 5 months before you could quit or be fired. So instead of wallowing in your hate, you let it flow freely. Letting it fill every interaction you had with him. Public, private, it didn’t matter, your disrespect was constant.

You didn’t think today was going to be any different, the morning was perfectly ordinary, making copies, sighing Patrick’s papers, getting on his nerves, he was quieter today, less likely to retort your remarks than he usually was. You’d been working for him for four and a half months now, you figured he was getting ready to fire you.

But as the night drew closer and you were getting ready to clock out, when he asked you to stay late, not told, asked.

He must have hit rock bottom, finally.

You stayed, even as the rest of the office went dark. Your desk had its own lamp so you didn’t mind the main lights being shut off. What you did mind was Patrick repeatedly calling your intercom without saying anything, then hanging up. It was annoying, and after the fifth time, you decided to go yell at him about it.

He wasn’t at his desk when you walked in, without a lick of hesitation in your body, you turned around to head out the door, only to find Patrick standing in front of it, pulling white gloves onto his hands, an unreadable expression on his. Before you could open your mouth to question him, his hands were around your throat, squeezing hard.

It was a short lived attempt on your life, as you pulled your foot back and kicked him in the knee as hard as you could. He dragged you down with him as he fell, with you landing on top of him you had the upper hand, punching him square in the face, again and again until your knuckles and his nose and mouth bled. The moment you felt his hands weaken around your throat you jerked back, simultaneously yanking his hands from around your neck, pinning them on either side of his head.

With no real plan on where to go from here, and Patrick having not expected himself to fail, the two of you sat there making intense eye contact for well over a minute.

You didn’t know what to do, Patrick had tried to kill you, failed, and is now pinned helplessly beneath you, looking just as confused as you did.

Oddly enough, Patrick was…experiencing a few new things at this moment. Deflation was one he was familiar with, but complete and utter submission was new for him.

He tried to kill you, but he couldn’t, and you were still alive, holding him down, staring at him with so much pure emotion on your face that he nearly felt overwhelmed by it. He didn’t even try to fight back, instead breaking eye contact to stare at your body above him. It was easy to say he was an admirer of yours, but you are too disrespectful, too mean, and entirely too unflattered by him for him to make a move.

Here you were, though, above him, he was powerless beneath you, anything could happen, he pressed his thighs together, anything could happen.

You were having similar problems. You loved a man covered in blood, particularly his own blood. And that is exactly what Patrick was, looking so pathetic beneath you, staring at you, and your body, wantonly. And you let him.

“What the fuck?” you said, with no real conviction in your voice.

He breathed out hard but said nothing. Just staring down at himself for a long moment, then back up at you. You followed where his gaze had been, your eyes meeting the obvious bulge in his perfectly fit slacks.

You breathed out a short laugh.

“You get off on trying to kill people, Batemen?”

He shook his head at your allegations.

“So it's just me?”

He breathed in hard, avoiding your eyes.

“You like it when I hold you down Bateman, ‘cause that's what it seems like..”

“I'm sorry-” he gasped out, but you interrupted him.

“No, you're not, you're not sorry for trying to kill me, you're horny and want me to fuck you.”

A moment passed

“-please?” his gasp of a word was ever so slightly painful, that, and the blood still free flowing from his nose, made you jump into action. Dragging both hands above his head, then keeping them pinned with just one of yours, using your now free hand to undo your belt, Patrick watched intently as you unfastened the buckle and pulled the belt off in one hard tug.

He watched as you made a makeshift pair of handcuffs, using your teeth as an extra hand while your other was occupied.

“Turn over.” he didn't move.

Letting his hands go for a second you forcefully put the man on his stomach, slamming him on the ground a bit harder than you would anyone else. You regathered his hands and pushed them into the cuffs, pulling to tighten them until the skin around them began to bruise.

Letting his hands rest on his lower back you leaned in close to his ear.

“If you want me to do this you're going to have to listen, understand?”

He nodded rapidly.

“Good.”

You stood up, appreciating the sight of the man lying on the floor between your legs for a moment before picking him up and dragging him over to his desk, you nearly slammed him down over it, he didn't say anything about it, actually, based on the moan he let out and the way he was already spreading his legs and was wiggling his hips in anticipation, you figured he liked it.

You didn't prep him, he'll you didn't even warn him, his pants were off and pooling around his ankles so quickly that he’d barely had time to process it, then, after taking a short moment to appreciate how beautiful and pristine Patrick's ass was, pressing your finger against his hole to see how tight it was, never actually penetrating him though, only stopping when you were satisfied with the answer, very, and his reaction. watching his thighs twitch in response. Then fully and with an utter lack of any hesitation, you pulled your pants and underwear down just below your hip, taking your already hard cock in your hand and giving it a few hard pumps before pressing it against Patrick's hole. He froze up, but his knees still shook, nervous and excited and impatient all at the same time. Then, without saying a word or giving a sign, you pressed in fully, starting at a pace that burned him from the inside out, and you were right, he was very tight, almost hard to push into, but you made it work.

You nearly zoned out his squeals, screams, and moans as you fucked him, unable to move, his insides stretched wider than they'd ever been- he's never done this before and the pain of it was unignorable. He tried to focus on you, your cock, making him feel so good and so bad at the exact same time.

The desk beneath him creaked with every rapid thrust, his stomach pressed uncomfortably against his own nameplate, and with his arms tied, and you being his near ruthlessly fucker for the night he didn't dare ask you.

It wasn't hard to get lost in Patrick, he was beautiful, he felt amazing around your cock, and his voice was more than perfect as he screamed and moaned your name into the empty building.

Then, an idea popped into your mind, the building wasn't completely empty, security was roaming around, checking the doors, the cameras. Looking around the room you spotted it, the blinking red light a clear sign that someone was watching. Grabbing Bateman by the hair you hoisted him up, ignoring his pained yell in favor of showing him the camera.

“Look at that, who's on camera duty tonight, Bateman?”

He blabbered and whined before saying he didn't know. You let go of his hair, and he fell back down to the desk with a bang, gasping out in pain, which soon merged with the pleasured moans that fell from his mouth constantly.

“You think they want a turn? Huh? Maybe they want to fuck you over the desk too, or maybe on the floor. I'd let them use you, I'd let them pass your ass around all night long.”

“No-” he gasped, “just you, just you please-”

He hurried his face in the sheets of paper covering his desk, embarrassed. He's never belonged to anybody, and he surely doesn't belong to you, but the more you fucked him and the fuzzier his mind got, the more he considered, then accepted It.

His back arched hard, his chest still pressed against the desk as he tried to keep his footing, his legs shakey and sore from you kicking him and everything that came after.

“Y/n~im so close, so fucking close, mhh Ah- Ah, ah-”

And he was, his body tensed hard, cum dripping down his cock before shooting out the tip, making a mess of his desk and the floor.

“Fuck, Bateman-” you gasped, just as close as he was a second ago, “you're fucking pathetic.”

You made the splint second session to pull out, much to Patricks, who was actively experiencing sexual overstimulation for the first time and was completely unprepared, relief.

That was until you dragged him off the desk and onto the floor, making him kneel in front of you. Grabbing his jaw and forcing it open, shoving your cock into his unexpected mouth, but that was fine, you used his mouth just as roughly as you'd used his hole.

You didn't last long after that, between Patrick's warm mouth and tongue being used like your personal toy, and his complete and utter submission to you, it was all just too beautiful.

With a final hard thrust into his mouth, your cum shot down his throat, making him choke and gag, and eventually swallow.

Then, staring down at him, you stuffed yourself back into your pants, forcing Patrick to the round, took your belt, and left. Leaving behind a confused, exhausted, and fucking satisfied Patrick Bateman.

[storiesofsvu]

Love You Always

Rafael Barba x reader warnings: language maybe? it's pure fluff y'all. This was a request that I took a little bit of a spin on but the end result is the same and the prompt still fits and works lol Quick reminder: as Barba has over 50 ppl on his taglist and that is tumblr's max, if you do not interact with this/other barba post you will be removed for someone who is on the wait list who actually does want to read and interact.

When you’d made the move from a small town in Pennsylvania out to New York you really had no idea what was in store for you. Getting the opportunity to live in the city was a huge enough thrill on its own, delicious food, incredible night life, easy enough to get around and a plethora of places to meet people. Work was consistent, busy enough to keep you stimulated and making money but never overwhelming, you always had weekends off and were reminded you never had to take work home unless you really wanted to.

The level of freedom you felt was an incredibly good thing, especially considering your boyfriend seemed to never stop working. You were free to swing by on your lunch, making sure he ate something other than chocolate covered espresso beans and would happily be the one to drag him out of the office at the end of a long day. Though you had no complaints about the matter, you loved him no matter what and knew that what he did was important, not to mention incredibly admirable.

The two of you had moved in together a couple of years ago, a nice two bedroom apartment smack in the middle of your commutes. Rafael had turned the second bedroom into a home office but hadn’t completely taken it over, leaving half of it for you to outfit however you’d like. He never wanted it to just be his space, wanted to make sure you always felt welcomed and wanted even if the most you normally did was curl up with a book in the arm chair beside his desk. He utterly adored having you around, the quality time beside another human was more than enough for both of you, you were able to communicate without words by now. There were moments where Rafael wouldn’t even realize he’d been letting his work stress him out until your gentle hands were on his shoulders, massaging out the knots. There were other moments where you were so sucked into your novel you had no idea how much time had gone by until he was pressing a kiss to the top of your head, mentioning you’d both missed dinner.

There had been talks of the future of course, some of them happening before you bought the apartment, making sure you were making the right investment, but there had never really been a talk about marriage. You’d talked about where in the city you wanted to live, decided on kids or no kids, if you wanted to stay in the same career path, what you’d like to do after retiring and while you knew you were in each other’s stories, a ring never came up. You loved your romantic movies and Rafael knew that, often watching them with you, a small smile on his face as you tried to hide your happy tears or blamed your sniffling on allergies. He knew you were a hopeless romantic and did his best on a regular basis to show you how much he loved you, flowers, treats, fancy date nights and the like.

The first time marriage truly came up was when you were out for dinner and witnessed a very public proposal that you immediately turned your nose up at. Rafael raised a brow and you let out a small laugh, explaining that not only were they incredibly tacky, nearly forcing the person answering to say yes, but this one in particular was going to end in a fight once they were home. Never ask a question like that if you don’t know the definite answer. On the other end of the spectrum, the two of you had a fantastic date night and you were certain it ended better than the not so happy couple.

The second time it technically came up Rafael was coming home entirely too late and while you didn’t have particular plans, you had happened to fall asleep on the couch waiting for him. He felt a pang of guilt wash through him when he found you, half full glass of wine on the coffee table with an empty one meant for him. When he woke you up to get you to bed he apologized, promising that it wouldn’t happen again. You let out a soft giggle, still half asleep and mentioned something about it not being a problem, you knew you were his side chick, he was married to his job after all, it was his wife and you were okay with that.

The third time it came up when your cousin’s wedding invitation came in the mail and you asked if he wanted to come with you. He laughed, saying of course he did and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, he was your plus one forever after all. You returned the laugh, letting him know it was back in Pennsylvania, it would be a minimum of a three day trip out there, you’d have to leave midday Friday and likely return late on Sunday, if not Monday. He simply shrugged, saying he’d make absolutely sure that his schedule was cleared, this was something that was important to you and he didn’t want to miss any of those.

Rafael had been expecting the usual wedding festivities, friends new and old reuniting between a couple of smaller hotels or bars around the town. Some whom had kept in touch, some who hadn’t spoken since graduation. There was plenty of catching up, questions asked and answered about careers, families, kids. He was prepared for all of that, prepared to whisk you away the second anyone started nagging a little too hard about getting married or starting a family of your own. Instead he was met with you laughing, winding your arm in his and saying that the two of you were your own family.

What he definitely wasn’t expecting was to be hit with a brick wall of emotions when the actual wedding started. Everything was so incredibly beautiful, the church lit up perfectly, stunning bridesmaids dresses that correlated with the groomsmen pocket squares, ties and socks. The flower arrangements were gorgeous, the music matched the vibe immaculately, every single detail you could imagine was well thought through and executed amazingly. His hand in yours as the ceremony started, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as the bride stepped into the room and he knew you would be teary eyed in a matter of seconds.

He couldn’t help but watch you throughout the ceremony, a small smile on his face, one that you caught and smiled back to every time you looked over at him. You loved love, and you loved him and that made him feel so incredibly warm inside, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your eyes glistened in the sunlight, a glimmering of happy tears in them as the couple began their vows and it became very obvious you weren’t the only hopeless romantic in the room. They told stories of their childhood, how they’d been best friends at such a young age, how through time they had went their different ways but always seemed to find their way back to each other. How they’d gone to different colleges, lived on opposite sides of the country and even when they didn’t stay in touch, life had a way to keep their invisible string intact. How she’d been smitten from the moment they reconnected, how he surprised her on their first anniversary with a plot of land where she’d always dreamed of living, and how he was going to build their dream home. How much they meant to each other, that they wanted to spend the rest of their days and then some together, how much they believed in destiny and how thankful they were that they were brought back together and realized what true love was because it was so often sitting right in front of your nose.

Rafael didn’t think he was a sap, but the misting in his eyes would prove otherwise.

The way your hand was softly squeezing at his thigh whenever something particularly romantic or emotional certainly wasn’t helping either. And the look of complete love, awe, hope and longing reflecting from your eyes was enough to drive him wild. He found his heart beating faster in his chest, butterflies racing in his stomach, he wanted to be the one on the receiving end of that kind of a look. He was utterly lost in his romantic thoughts until the couple kissed, the church erupting in applause and you were tugging him to stand, cheering to celebrate their new union.

He managed to keep his cool throughout dinner, though he got a little misty eyed when the speeches started. Out of pure instinct you were cuddled into his side, the more intimate and loving the stories and speeches got, the closer the two of you got to each other. There was nothing either of you wanted than to be with each other and this celebration of love was solidifying it.

The two of you were up on the dance floor, encouraging your nieces and nephews to burn off all the sugar from the cake dancing around as wildly as they could before having to leave. A slow song started and you thought for a moment you were leaving the dance floor until Rafael grabbed your hand, a sparkle in his eye as he twirled you under his arm and then his other hand slid around your waist, leading you in a slow rhythm around the dance floor. A blooming of happiness started in your chest as your cheek rested next to his, small smile on both of your cheeks as you danced.

“You’ve been quiet,” you murmured, “not having any fun?”

“Quite the opposite.” He chuckled, his lips brushing your cheek.

“Then what’s going on in that brain of yours, hmm?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” You asked, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“You.” He replied, his hand rubbing at the small of your back, “love. This.” You felt his hand come off your back, gesturing to the room, “How beautiful it is. How beautiful you are. How happy I am with you, and that I want that kind of happiness forever. That I want this. With you.”

“Careful Rafael, this is starting to sound like a proposal.” You teased from your spot on his shoulder, feeling his chest rumble as he chuckled.

“Never. That would be incredibly inappropriate, I’m not one to steal someone’s moment.”

“Sure.” You laughed and he playfully rolled your eyes as you lifted your head up. The hand he had holding yours moved to cup your face as you stepped even closer together. His eyes gazed into yours with nothing but absolute adoration.

“But believe me when I say this, I’m going to marry you one day and one day soon.” His thumb brushed over your cheek and you felt a dopey smile take over your lips, “our own special day where I get to tell everyone just how much I love you, how I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, how you deserve the entire world and I got so incredibly lucky because you chose me.”

“And I would a million times over.” Leaning in you pressed your lips to his, a small sigh relaxing both of you into the kiss as you continued to sway. Your cheek came to rest against his once more, his hand briefly cupping the back of your head before moving back to your waist. “Because I love you Rafael, more than anyone in the world. I’m lucky to have you to love.”

“I love you too.”

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, continuing to guide you around the dance floor until the song came to an end. For the third time today he found a misting of happy tears in his eyes, the same ones reflecting in yours except this time it was because of your own love, your own little secret that no one else in the room knew quite yet. That not only did you have a future together but he was going to be able to call you his wife, and that meant the entire world to him.

____________

@fandom-princess-forevermore @bisexualcrowley @detective-giggles @plaidbooks @averyhotchner @beccabarba @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @prurientpuddlejumper @letsdisneythings @neely1177 @mrsrafaelbarba @lv7867 @bisexual-dreamer02 @skittle479 @amelia-song-pond @madamsnape921 @altsvu @svulife-rl @caracalwithchips @mysticfalls01 @ssaic-jareau @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @michael-rooker @rafivadafreddy @darkheart-brightsmile @australiancarisi @tinyboxxtink @ex-uallyactive @lawandorderuswnt @lustvolle-liebe @sia2raw @narvaldetierra @dxtery @lannister-slings-and-arrows @poisonedcrowns @anlin2058 @xoxabs88xox @momlifebehard @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @godard-muse @somethingimaginative17 @alexxavicry @dextur @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @valentinesfrog @silversprings-mp3 @wittygutsy @gamma-rae-bursts @int4n @just-moondust @deanwinchestersgirl87 @bubbleswrld

[windvexer]

dealing with a nonthreatening entity in your home, if you can't easily communicate with spirits

just how I'd do it, the flowchart I'd personally work with, UPG ahead, etc; take what you like and leave the rest behind.

Nonthreatening: An entity which hasn't harmed you or tried to harm you, or isn't an active threat to you or your household, even if they may have acted in unpleasant or disruptive ways.

Dealing with: Sorting out the situation so that you feel comfortable with what's going on.

This post is about resolving a spirit situation in your home that you're uncomfortable with. It's not a general guide on spirit work, and it's not a recommendation for how to treat all spirits in all situations.

Banishing should probably not be a first step when dealing with an unwanted/surprise/unexpected spirit, or learning that a spirit exists where you didn't expect to be one.

Ideally, for the diplomatic spirit worker who wants to be regarded well by the otherworlds, several other steps come first.

Decide what you'd ideally like to do

Ideally, do you want the spirit to leave completely?

Never interact with you or make its presence known?

Hang around as long as it doesn't bother room mates or pets?

Integrate into the household and be a spirit room mate?

Become a part of your spirit family?

Etc!

Not saying you'll get your wish but it's a good idea to sit down and figure yourself out before you go and start moderating the life of an entity.

Like if your actual feeling is, "I do not want this guy here and I won't be comfortable in my home unless he leaves," then don't set out on purpose to make the guy a spirit home and give him house rules. Skip to the endgame step of asking him to leave.

Check on wards and protections before you take action

Not trying to be an alarmist but every now and then a random guy ends up being a big jerk, and in that situation the preferable option is to have just checked up on what tools you have on hand.

If you can communicate with spirits

Talk it out 👍 you may have to make compromises, especially if you're working with Big Guys who have a say in things, but by and large I find that if you can make the spirit a nice little house in a place they like and some solid house rules, a lot of situations are going to be resolved real fast.

If things go tits up, banishing.

If you can't easily perceive/2-way communicate with spirits

When perception isn't easy/possible, take reasonable steps and wait to see what happens.

If the stuff that was bothering you is resolved, count that as a win 👍

If you're still encountering problems, take the next step; do this until you've exhausted all options, and then move to banishing.

When you take actions, clearly affirm your intentions and expectations. Do not invite open-ended conversations that you can't participate in.

🛑 "If this spirit house isn't suitable for you, please try to let me know. I'll see what I can do to change it."

✅ "I've made this spirit house for you. Please make use of it according to your desires, but move on to another property if it isn't to your liking."

Set or review house rules

This isn't a comprehensive guide, but all you've really got to do is write down a list of rules, ritually read it off, and then stick the list somewhere you won't lose it.

A lot of spirit problems can be resolved by establishing solid house rules

A lot of panic about powerful spirits and faulty wards can be resolved by fixing accidental loopholes

Get your rules lawyer friend to help troubleshoot

E.g., "uninvited spirits aren't welcome here." Is a spirit still uninvited if you carry it in while it's inside of an object? It can get a bit tedious but it's a miracle spirits can understand human language at all, much less the miles between what you actually desire to occur versus what gets codified.

If a new spirit arrives or behavior occurs that you think is against your house rules, review your rules to see if there could be a loophole. Then, 'set' them again by re-reading them in a ritual setting. During that time, specifically ask the spirit to stop its bothersome behavior.

Divination or consulting with other practitioner friends can really help troubleshoot house rules.

Popular house rules include things like:

Don't mess with my dreams or sleep

Don't scare or make yourself known to house members or pets

Never go into my bedroom

Don't interfere with my spells or ritual workings, even if you're trying to help or protect me

Wait for a little while and see if that resolves things.

Make the guy his own little house

A spirit bothering someone isn't always them just being mischievous. Active spirits who roam around the house bored as hell can accidentally make themselves known. And ordering a bored guy to never do anything fun isn't necessarily a recipe for a happy household.

Make the guy a nice little area with some things to enjoy, especially little fidget toys and shiny stuff, and invite him to dwell in that area and make use of the enjoyable things.

This doesn't need to be in the shape of an actual miniature house.

Crochet basket, thermos with the lid popped open, desk organizer, pile of little cloths, small box with or without a lid, old jar, plastic tub, books stacked to make a nice private corner, etc.

Include a soft bed, which can take the form of comfortable cloths or a nice little pillow you crochet, etc.

Include things the spirit might like or use, such as coins, a fidget spinner, a mini rubix cube, a sun catcher, etc.

Spice it up by decorating it all nicely and including pretty things, like a nice printed silk scarf, a paint job or facade on the container, or lovely objects placed nearby.

Focus on privacy - give the guy somewhere to go so he can relax and unwind, and not constantly be bothered by people.

Most vitally, ensure that the spirit house won't be disrupted. Don't place or design it so that children or unwitting partners might "tidy it up" or take it down and play with it.

You don't have to do a big ritual cleansing or consecration or whatever.

Invite the guy to dwell there. Enter magical headspace or initiate ritual communication in whatever method you prefer.

"My guy, I see you are a part of the household. I've made you this house to use if you want to. Either way, bothering my partner has got to stop. If I need to talk to you for anything, I'll come back to this location. Anything I leave right next to the house is for you."

If the guy is stuck to an object, take that object somewhere nice

Learning how to bind a spirit to an object is a valuable skill for a witch. Sometimes nature does the job for you and the spirit is bound to an object on arrival.

Move that bad boy to a nice location, possibly to a spirit house you build, or maybe outside, even at a faraway location (I've left a few spirit vessels up the mountain, myself).

Make sure to positively affirm that you are taking this action to help the spirit, and your goal is to put it in a nice location.

Sit down with the dude and tell him to knock that shit off regardless of house rules

Presumably we're at this point because the spirit is still around, you don't want to actually tell him to get out, but something is happening that isn't working for you.

Despite the sarcastic section header, it's actually probably wise for you to own up to your own role in the situation.

Most spirits aren't jerks or stupid. They may be trying their best to interpret your words and behaviors.

You may be being unintentionally confusing or contradictory.

You may be laying down rapidfire changes that's making the spirit nervous or confused.

Your own magic may be creating barriers or impossibilities in the spirit world that prevent them from doing what you're asking.

They may be reacting to unseen situations you're completely unaware of.

A little humility goes a long way in soothing the waters.

Go to the guy's spirit house, if he has one, or otherwise go to where he's known to dwell; or, go to your usual working area. Enter magical headspace or initiate ritual communication.

Say something like,

"Hey, I need these very specific things to change. I don't mind you staying here, but it's my responsibility to care for this household, and I can't have this happening. If you are unable to stop doing this, I must politely request that you leave this household and find a new place to dwell."

(Note: If you're trying to cultivate psychism and want to be a spirit worker and so on, this is a great juncture to actually invite communication in whatever form might come - even if that communication comes slowly over days or weeks. But if that's not your jam for the present situation, you don't have to.)

(Maybe a controversial take, but you have a responsibility to do your best to do right by the spirits. We all have our limits and you also have a duty to your household, but if the reality is "I can't perceive or get input from spirits," you're limited in what you can do. Acting fairly and taking reasonable, diplomatic steps can sometimes be the best you can do.)

Ask the guy to leave

Enter magical headspace or initiate ritual communication.

"I'm sorry, but this isn't working out. I hold no ill-will towards you, but you must now depart and find a new dwelling outside of this property and this home.

It might be a good idea to invite him into a little vessel and then take that somewhere nice, but far away.

You can cleanse and bless a river rock and invite the guy to move in there, and then go take that somewhere you think is nice, or even just near a new apartment complex where he could find other residences, etc. I often find the vibes when transporting a spirit vessel to be very strong and they can be very opinionated about where they want to be left.

If you transport a spirit vessel to a new location, consider bringing a small offering (like a pinch of tobacco, or some bottled water) and pouring them out near the vessel in dedication to the spirit.

Announce that you're parting ways in good faith, and if you should ever meet again, that it will be in peace.

If all that fails, banishing is next

[petday]

I make fandom art I make porn I make stuff that makes me miserable and I make stuff that makes me happy and I follow all the advice online but still nobody likes my art. I know it's good art and im not insecure about my talent level but no matter what I post or where I post it, nobody wants to like or interact with my art at all. I know people see it I know people are scrolling past without acknowledging what I make and it fucking sucks. I don't have friends to share stuff I make with and nobody online cares clearly. What do you do when nobody likes you or what you offer.

Good question. This response involves some of my history. I try to talk about my experiences at a comfortable distance. But please skip to the 'Solutions' part if you're bored.

My thoughts below:

It's painful. I have a lot of memories of high intensity pain due to no one engaging with me, at school and online. 'If I live in the same world as others, but it still feels like I am in a world with just myself, what is the point of trying to make things? Sure, I will feel better about myself as I grow, but I've still got no one to grow with, so I am just talking to myself. Amusing myself is fine, but I want to reach a level of fun above amusement, a level that others seem to reach so naturally.' 

In fact, maybe you are less 'outward' with your emotions, but as a child and teenager and young adult, there was a lot of screaming and crying and thrashing about 'not being granted the ability to make things others will seriously engage with me about.' 

(The pain remained after making a few friends during teenage years. The pain's attitude shifted slightly to accommodate this new life change of gaining friends. Much later, even after I became an artist with a large visible number of 'followers/people interested in something you make', the pain shifted its shape around this life change again. "People make bad assumptions of me because I have a big visible number in my profile and most websites do not give me the ability to hide that number." Summary: If your pain/frustration still remains after you gain a friend or find people who engage you, don't beat yourself up. Emotions don't work in such a way that the outcomes you desire are only guaranteed to make you happy and no other emotions will rise.)

Although I loved to look at art on websites since I was a child, one may assume I enjoyed the community aspect. I did, but only as a spectator for the vast majority of the time, since age restrictions and the harsh attitudes that exist to 'prevent the weak from touching the strong' was present in many of the sites I visited. Similar to how children get frustrated when another child cannot keep up with their play, but the child that is 'left out' can still enjoy watching other kids play from afar. It makes perfect sense to me these feelings will always exist in the world no matter what 'social media' websites people invent.

Anyway, two solution attempts in succession I tried over long-term:

1. My first attempt at a solution was immersing myself in a fantasy world I created in my mind and I held my imagination in high esteem. "I know my imagination takes influence from the things I read and admire, so it's not such a lonely world anyway." Creating episode lists of imaginary cartoon episodes and such, so dedicated to something I hardly told anyone about. It felt good. But my friends had original characters too, and they could describe their personalities and dynamics to others naturally and quickly, likely due to their earlier experiences with 'communicating ideas to others.' I was quiet and envious. Although it was fun to play with the imaginary characters in my head, I decided to take another step. Of course I could not simply go back in time to gain the similar social experiences my friends had. But I could use that desire to 'go back in time' to 'go forward in time' and gain the experience.

2. Engage in others first. Because I spent a long time in my imagination, I felt more secure about myself, so I wanted to extend the feeling of 'caring about my own work' to 'caring about others' work on an equal level.' The internet allows you to assess people before engaging to see if your compatibility might be okay. If someone had posts that resonated with me, I tried to say 'hello, I like what you posted/I like your drawing because [...]' Even if the contact ended there, it was a good practice. Gently communicate with people over time. Especially since I am sure there are people who rarely receive questions about their artworks who would love someone to engage with them as well. Of course do not do this in a 'pity' sense – you have to genuinely find something that 'touches your heart' and if the artist seems to not get much curiosity in regards to their art, you can go ahead and try to express your curiosity to them. Keep posting whatever you like, but if you engage with others, you may find someone engaging with you without even expecting it, and that is fun.

(I think society should practice finding genuine value in things they like even if they see nobody has touched it. Not pity, but removing the "does anyone else like this? If I see no one else liking this, it must be a bad thing to like, so I won't engage" attitude. Some of my favourite artwork has maybe 5 visible 'bookmarks/favorites' on an art-focused website.)

[babyjakes]

flamingo pink.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | pet play

pairing | daddy!ari levinson x puppy!reader

warnings | ddlg and pet play elements (daddy!ari and sort of little? puppy!reader.) brief mentions of ownership; reader wears a collar. unprotected sex- vaginal and anal penetration. mild clit play (mild for me anyway lol.) nipple play for like one (1) second. finger sucking. squirting (and he comes in her ass!) a little bit of crying. teasing. some mocking/humiliation. some dumbification. lots of praise/encouragement. beginnings of aftercare.

word count | 1,006

an | hi sluts, welcome to kinkmas 2023!! i'm so super excited to be running this event, i've already put in a lot of work on these pieces and i'm really hoping you'll all enjoy them <3 as a quick note, if you haven't already, make sure to check out the event masterlist (linked above) to see the list of prompts i'll be writing for this month! i tried to pick mostly new ideas and concepts, hopefully there'll be something to fit everyone's taste!! hope you all like day 1 with big strong daddy!ari and his little baby puppy! also yes there are 1989tv references bc this is MY kinkmas and I MAKE THE RULES hehe :))

Clink clink.

The rattling sound of your custom-fit collar's tiny tag could barely be heard over your and your daddy's mix of heavy breathing. Large hands gripping your ankles, Ari had your legs bent up at an obscene angle as you lay on your back against the soft white bedding below. "Fuck, puppy. Look so pretty, takin' all of me like this. What a good girl," you were melting into the towering man's touch as he brought up a few rough fingers to caress your cheek, warm with wanting.

Ari's gaze traveled over your glistening body, spread out perfectly before him like a feast to be devoured. The glimmering shine of your gold tag caught his eye, eliciting a deep groan from within him as he brought his hand down to gently turn over the small, heart-shaped plate against your neck. "All fuckin' mine," he all but growled as the pads of his fingers traced over the letters that spelled out his initials. It was more than a symbol of love; it carried a heavier weight- ownership.

He rutted up harder into you, his punishing pace drawing tears from your eyes as his gaze settled back on your precious features. "Baby," he murmured, softening slightly at the sight of your tears. "Bein' such a good little pup for me, c'mon- show me you can take it. Are you gonna be good and take Daddy's dick?"

You were gasping as he thrust up against your sweet spot repeatedly, the sensation of him stretching you open causing goosebumps to prickle up along the back of your neck. You shivered, trying to construct an acceptable response. Smiling at the sight of you being fucked stupid, your loving daddy helped you by bringing his hand back up to cup your cheek and jaw, his thumb slipping in between your glossy pink lips as he forced out a nod from you. "Good girl," he crooned as you mindlessly nursed his thick digit, your tongue rolling sloppily around its tip as he tightened his grip on you. "That's it, baby. Just let Daddy do all the thinkin'. Nothin' but a dumb little puppy for Daddy to play with- isn't that right? You're my pretty little puppy?"

You didn't need his help to nod this time, your eyelashes batting so sweetly as his grin spread further across his face. When he slowed the movement of his hips, you were a bit confused as Ari pulled out of you, bringing his hands down to guide the tip of his massive length to trail cruelly over your messy folds. You let out the cutest little whine, your thighs flailing weakly as he bumped himself right up against your puffy button.

"I know baby, I know," your daddy hummed, wanting to draw out his teasing as much as he could force himself to. "Just wanna take my time with you, sweetheart. You're such a pretty little puppy, you know that?" He brought a hungry hand up to paw at one of your breasts as it sat so perfectly beneath the flimsy fuchsia lace he had dressed you up in. Pinching and rolling your hardened nipple through the sheer fabric, he chuckled as you squirmed softly under his touch. "My perfect little pup, so pretty in pink. Makin' it hard for me to control myself, baby. S'hard to be gentle with you when you're this fuckin' cute."

When you felt his smooth tip nudging up against your smaller hole, you let out a squeak in surprise; being the good daddy he was, Ari was quick to reassure you. "Don't worry, pretty girl. Daddy won't make it hurt, just relax..." His fingers collected plenty of your wetness, dragging it down to prep his length for you. "Deep breath, angel. There," he gasped along with you as the head of his member pushed past your tight ring of flesh, the intrusion burning deep in your tummy.

"That's my good girl," Ari kept praising you proudly as he gradually worked you open, only giving you as much as you could handle. One of his thumbs came up to brush over your swollen clit, the pad of his skilled finger tracing circles over the hardened nub as a way to soothe the heat of the stretch. "You gonna be a good little pup and take all of me, princess? Gonna let me ruin this tight little bottom? Fuck-"

"D-Daddy," you mumbled, your gaze growing hazy as the pressure in your tummy expanded. Nearing the brink himself, Ari knew the signs of your impending orgasm like the back of his hand.

"C'mon, puppy. Give it to me." Forehead drenched in sweat, the man furrowed his brow harshly in concentration as he flicked his thumb faster over your aching button. "Come for Daddy, baby. Come for me, shit, that's it-" Like waves colliding, your climaxes both hit at once, glorious and gruesome in the way they made your bodies explode in tandem. As your high squirted out forcefully against the large man's front, his heavy release was shooting up into you, filling you with an indescribable warmth.

Seconds passed that felt like minutes. When your eyes finally fluttered open again, your legs were trembling uselessly off to either side of you as your chest rose and fell sporadically. You felt something leaving you, the harsh tug on your sensitive walls pulling a diminished cry from your hoarse throat.

"Shhh," your daddy's familiar voice soothed, a gentle hand rubbing careful circles on your knee. "I'm here, baby. Daddy's here. You did so well." In an instant, he was collecting you in his arms. He moved you away from the edge of the bed, propping you up against a few pillows as his lips came down to press against your dampened forehead.

"Now you just wait here, sweetheart. Daddy's gonna go get a rag to clean you up. Just close your eyes, baby. There," seeing your exhaustion, he didn't want to make you lift a single finger. "Daddy's here, angel. Daddy'll take care of you."

[goodqueenaly]

I posted about it a few days ago, but if you haven’t seen, Steven Attewell, perhaps better known on here as @racefortheironthrone, just passed away.

Steven Attewell wasn’t just a great writer and analyst (though he obviously was), nor just a great podcaster (though he was that too), nor just a great academic mind (though he was that as well). Attewell was a supremely kind, thoughtful, funny, and upstanding human being, someone I was very fortunate to call my dear friend. Hardly a day or two went by without one of us bouncing ideas for an essay or post off the other, or swapping some historical trivia, or sharing thoughts about the latest MCU project. When I got engaged, he was one of the first people I told, and whenever I, say, read a book about New York’s gilded age, or listened to a podcast episode about Reginald Pole, or learned that some Americans were still using hand crank phones into the 80s (no, really), I often thought “Attewell would appreciate that”. 

Even now, it seems utterly surreal to think of him as passed. Just a week before he died, I had been telling him how much my fiancé adored his X-Men ‘97 podcast. A few days before, he and I had been joking about the recent east coast earthquake. I knew how excited he was about his “Tyrion IX” ASOS CBC essay, since he and I had been discussing it in the weeks before he died, and his Tumblr posts right to the end displayed that same high quality you could always expect from him. I keep waiting for my messenger app to pop up with his name again, or his familiar avatar to appear at the top of my Tumblr feed with another ask from him. 

We have lost a giant of the ASOIAF community, but far more importantly, we have lost a very good person. Read some of Attewell’s works - “Who Stole Westeros” is a seminal piece IMO, as is his CBC analysis of “Eddard XI”, but you can’t go wrong with anything he wrote, and if I tried to list every piece I could recommend from him it would be a novel in itself. Listen to some of his podcasts or vlogs - his excitement over X-Men ‘97 is infectious. Keep reading and writing, just as he was doing. Miss him and grieve, by all means, but know that for the many people, myself included, he inspired and touched and interacted with, his memory and impact won’t be forgotten. 

[heatherholloways]

PSA

Hi RPC. About a year ago, I recalled seeing some PSA's about a roleplayer that was making female writers in the RPC very uncomfortable and s*xually harassing them. He is unfortunately back and actively searching for new people to write with.

His current alias is Deco, but he's been known to go by MJ, Omar, Duncan, and many other names. His past known URLS are apache-gold, overrridewrites, wineandwisdom, and thesevenking (there may be more.) His most current URL is fullofmuses (I would advise you block him and report him.) Long story short:

This user will approach you to plot, supposedly looking for romantic plots. He will only reach out to you if you are a female mun. Once he gains your trust, he will ask for your Discord. He will push your boundaries and try to force you into plots that you may not be comfortable with. He comes off in a way that's very approachable and friendly but will quickly turn sour, even violent, if you do not agree to plot with him on his terms.

He has a history of flirting with/making unwanted advances towards RPers even if they have not given any impression that they're interested in it, discusses plots and tries to push his ideas on you even if you are not comfortable with them, and ultimately tries to set up you up (mostly women in their 20s) to plot with his "father" or "other friend."

He has a few major plot points he is interested, but they almost always revolve around 1. a couple with infertility issues and the female seeking out getting pregnant by someone else 2. a relationship where the female character cheats on the male character 3. inc*stual plots, often times with a female character cheating on her significant other with a father figure. It is always the female OC cheating on his male OC, a third party being needed to help with conceiving, and will usually have infertility, breeding, and inc*st as common themes within.

Please do not fall victim to this person. He is extremely manipulative and does not care about your writing. He uses roleplaying as a way to find and harass women, and if he finds out any information about you OOC, he will not hesitate to continue harassing you outside of the RPC/Tumblr. He found Tumblr after following a roleplayer that he'd been harassing and chasing her off the original platform they were on.

Red flags, patterns and signs that it is him that you are interacting with:

He only writes male OCs.

He is very interested in Marvel/DC and Game of Thrones/HoTD.

His plot/genre interests include a variety, "slice of life" and "dramedy" being some of the main ones.

His rules are always the same/mention being interested in writing "unorthodox" plots.

He messages or DM's you seemingly out of nowhere to ask if you're looking to plot.

He claims he works at an airport to some capacity (either handling luggage, doing security, sometimes even as a pilot.)

He says he's in his late 20's, usually 28 or 29.

He says to be based in either Colorado and/or California.

He constantly talks about himself, his physical appearance, and/or his personal hygiene.

After he settles a plot (if he doesn't get blocked or ghosted first), he asks roleplayers if they are willing to plot romance and/or smut with either his father or his friend.

His likes and following list are always public.

He makes himself out to be the victim if he is blocked by other writers to try and gain your sympathy.

He talks in a way that makes it sound like he is supportive of your plot ideas but always tries to spin it to fit what he wants, even if you've stated you are not comfortable with it.

This person's known Discord accounts:

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐎𝐒𝐒 #9647

intrepid thoughts. #2115 (his "dad")

underscorebluff.#5950

lektro.#9073 (his "friend")

ruggedblade (most recent as of June 2024)

I have confirmed the above facts and all the information with multiple people who have talked to him, have experience writing/plotting with him and/or have been harassed by him OOC.

Please keep yourself safe from this person, as he's been harassing women in this space for years.

[weirdsht]

What if i have an idea and it's orv's "incarnation kim dokja will be killed at the hands of the person he loves most" BUT it's reader and cale

May Our Fates Intertwine Once More - Cale/Reader

notes: 1. Anon I'm sorry for taking so long to write your req; and 2. I'm sorry to everyone who saw the small preview I posted before and thought it was fluff.

tags: fluff, no gender specified for reader, novel spoiler (sealed god's test), hurt no comfort, angst, death, canon divergence from 620

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

One moment you were next to Cale then the next second you’re standing in the middle of an unknown place with this weird half-transparent blue screen in front of you.

[Quest List:]

[1. Pass the tutorial

2. Launch a widescale attack on the safe zones during the eclipse 

3. Die after fighting a magnificent battle at the hands of the person who loves you the most]

“What the fuck…”

You cursed as you read what the screen says. You tried to see if you could touch it but something else popped up as soon as your finger made contact with it.

[WARNING!! WARNING!!]

[All injuries sustained in this body will be mirrored in your real body!]

“This isn’t my real body? But it looks the same.”

It really does. The only thing that has changed is your clothes. You’re wearing something that fits the image of a deity.

Still confused, you look around you. There’s nothing you recognized. But it does look like you’re somewhere abandoned.

[A message has arrived! Tap here to read!]

You tapped the new overlay that popped up and it instantly brought you to the message.

[Are you enjoying your lover’s original world?]

The anonymous message said. Immediately, you had an inkling as to who it could be.

“What the fuck? You must be that stupid god presence we felt back there.”

[Such brash words while talking to a god… Anyway, are you aware of where your lover is?]

“His around here too right? What the hell did you do to him?”

[Nothing much. His just under my test to overcome his despair. I’m waiting for him to be consumed by it so he can take my hand.]

“Knowing Cale, I'm sure he’ll overcome it. He’d rather die than work with you.”

[That’s where you come in dear.]

You feel like you can hear the god’s vile laughter even through the screen. But you wondered how you’d help meet Cale’s demise. Unless a demon possesses you to the point where you can’t control yourself, you won't do it.

Then it dawned on you.

The mission.

[3. Die after fighting a magnificent battle at the hands of the person who loves you the most]

“HAHAHAHAHAHA! You’re quite witty, aren’t you? On the bright side, I found out Cale loves me the most thanks to you.”

[It’s great, isn’t it? If you don’t do your missions you’ll be stuck here forever. If you do them you’ll die. Whatever you do you love must say goodbye. An instant recipe for despair.]

“We’ll see about that. You might be underestimating me too much.”

You pointed your middle finger towards the screen with messages before closing it.

Getting past the tutorial was easy. Turns out you have an inventory that contains countless supplies of food and other necessities. You also have the ability to summon monsters.

The same monsters your lover told you he fought in his previous life before becoming Cale Henituse.

“Ho? This is interesting. It feels like I’m playing a game of some sort.”

You said no one in particular as you read the descriptions of the monsters at your disposal. You spend the whole day navigating the screen that calls itself the “status window”. According to it, you have the whole day free today as the eclipse will happen tomorrow.

As you take yourself on a tour of your inventory one particular item catches your attention.

[Sword of Liubi Duplicate]

It was your sword. Well, a duplicate of it. It was given to you by Cale after you first met. Clicking on the sword, you read what properties would its copy have.

[A sword replicated from your world. It’s strong, probably one of the strongest swords on Earth 2 despite being nerfed. However, since it’s a duplicate it will only have half of its original prowess. It is still a remarkable weapon nonetheless.]

Some of the terms used like “nerfed” you don’t understand as they don’t exist in your world. But it still gave you a general idea as to what the status of your sword is.

Well, it’s better than nothing.

Plus you think the only time you’d have to use it is when you fight Cale so it’s better that it’s not as strong as before.

“Either way I die huh…”

You mumbled as you stared up at the ceiling of the abandoned house you found. Usually, a person would not be able to stay in such a place so leisurely. However, since the monsters won’t touch you it's a different story.

“What am I getting sad for? I was supposed to die way back! I’m just fulfilling it now…”

It’s the truth. If it wasn’t for your lover and his friends you would’ve died a long time ago. You guess someone bound to die early will die early.

You dismissed the thoughts of your death out of your head. Instead, you focused your energy on thinking about how you would get Cale to fight you so he could complete his mission.

With those thoughts in mind, you slowly fell asleep. 

“Okay, this is kind of fun… but I feel bad since Cale and the others are fighting the things I summoned.”

You’re on top of a building. A good distance away from Cale– no Kim Rok Soo’s safe zone but still near enough to be able to observe what’s happening.

“Is that Choi Han? At first I felt bad for them, but now I feel bad for myself. They’ll finish my babies in no time!”

Observing Choi Han and the others fighting, you kept summoning more monsters. The monsters you summon are regulated by the status window but you still find some joy in doing it.

It is getting tiring though.

You can’t believe you have to keep doing this for 24 hours straight. You’re not even getting paid…

[Alert!]

[One (1) of your “Grade 1 Taster Monsters” have broken from the pack]

[Alert!]

[Two (2) of your “Grade 1 Taster Monsters” have broken from the pack]

“What the hell? I swear my dearest must have an ancient power that allows him to gather powerful beings. His even stealing away my babies.”

You huffed in frustration as you watched two of your summons go over to Kim Rok Soo’s side.

“Isn’t this whole thing too good for me though? Everything I need to survive is free… And summoning monsters doesn’t cost anything.”

[It's the least I could do for someone bound to die either way]

That pesky god messaged you again.

“Well look at you being Mr. Nice. Are you flirting with me? Sorry, I’m taken.”

For emphasis, you brought up your ring finger that contained your engagement ring. As if flipping the god off.

[Blasphemous as ever. It tempts me to take you as one of my children. Too bad you won’t be able to take in the despair that comes as a price.]

“Yeah yeah. Just shut up. It’s not like I have any plans teaming up with a god.”

Sealed God shut up and you lived the next days in peace.

You have the monsters at your disposal that can do whatever you need them to do. And you have no quest assigned to you aside from that dying one. Your mind has also been at ease as you have a general plan as to how you’ll get your love to fight you one-on-one.

[New Mission Alert!]

[Summon one (1) Electric Eel in Gwangalli Beach]

Gwangalli Beach where is that? You have absolutely no idea. In fact, you’re tired of your status window acting as if you were from this world.

“I’m sure the monster will know where it is…”

Convincing yourself that your summons will know where it is you summoned a flying monster to take you to that place.

Luckily, your assumption was correct. In no time you were where you need to be.

“Status window summon one Electric Eel… Who named this thing? I mean it’s a snake that will be summoned from the sea, and has electricity as one of its powers. But Electric Eel? Seriously?”

After bashing the monster’s name a little, you summoned it.

“I’m sure you already know what to do…”

You mumbled to the monster before going away to hide before someone saw you.

All that’s left for you to do is watch and wait for your entrance.

3 days. That’s how many days it took for them to defeat the Electric Eel.

While everyone was doing that you were watching on top of the building. Your robed dress flows freely in the wind as you do so. There were a lot of instances you wanted to intervene. Wanted to go help the love of your life and the man you considered your brother.

But alas you couldn’t.

The status window with only one quest left reminded you of that every time.

[Are you ready for the final act?]

Sealed God messaged you again. As if laughing at your inevitable demise.

“Just watch my performance. It’ll be spectacular.”

For a moment you were tempted to curse him out as you usually would. However, you decided that if you’re gonna go out today, you’re going out with grace and elegance. It's only fitting as the fiance of a duke’s son.

[Player _____ will be killed at the hands of the person that loves them the most]

[The last arc of the game…]

[Starts Now]

Ignoring the status window, you ride the flying monster waiting for you. It’s the same monster that brought you to the beach before.

“I worked so hard just for you to defeat my baby.”

You gently spoke as you gracefully descended from the monster's back and onto the dead Electric Eel. 

“...That’s your baby?”

Kim Rok Soo mumbled quite mournfully. He was supposed to be your baby after all.

“Wait how are you even here?”

He asked. Looking at you curiously. 

“Oh, I’m the one summoning all the monsters you’ve been fighting. Was it fun? Ah, don’t ask me where they come from though. I have no idea where they came from. I can only summon them.”

You spoke as if there was nothing wrong. As if you guys aren't standing on the opposite sides of the battlefield.

“_____-nim…”

Choi Han, the man you have come to consider your brother, slowly called out to you.

“What are you doing?”

He asks, not minding the whispers from the people around you three.

“So that’s what happened to my Dark Tiger… Asking permission to borrow my things would have been appreciated, Your Highness.”

You addressed Alberu first before answering the swordmaster’s question.

“Don’t you still get it? Every play must end with the hero defeating the evil mastermind! And you Kim Rok Soo…”

The sword you summoned on the way here pointed towards your lover.

“You shall be the one who strikes the final blow.”

Kim Rok Soo’s brain connected the pieces. You smile while observing him. And that smile pissed him off.

Because you were smiling as if everything was okay.

As if you hadn’t just announced your death.

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll be stuck here and die. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

“So I just have to kill you here?”

‘And then you’ll return to my arms in our world?’

You knew the silent question that lingered in the commander’s reddish-brown eyes.

“Yes.”

Yet you ignored it. Letting him believe that everything will be fine. That you will only die in this world. That nothing will happen to you in your world and all shall be well.

It was for his own good.

The only way for him to not fall into despair once more.

Drawing your sword once again, you beckoned for your lover to fight you.

“Everyone else stay back. I’ll summon another unranked monster if you interfere.”

“Follow what they say and just watch.”

You and Kim Rok Soo said before your powers clashed with each other.

Lightning after lightning struck you. However, your sword blocked most of them. Dodging the ones you couldn’t block.

When it was your turn to attack, you struck your sword towards Cale. Each slash either landed on the Indestructible Shield or was blocked by the Fire of Destruction.

“Your sword is stronger than this. I did not give you such a flimsy thing.”

Cale spoke as you failed to cut through his shield once more.

“Don’t worry this isn’t the one you gave– Ugh!”

A lightning struck you. Cale used it as an opportunity to land more hits.

“I was talking you know? You’re as rude as ever. Anyway, this one is a duplicate.”

Your sword managed to land a cut on the commander’s arm. Everyone else watched the two of you. People who don’t know you were wondering how can the two of you fight while bantering as if your lives aren’t on the line.

But not everyone in the audience didn’t know you. Two people in there knew you very well. 

“I’m going back first. Something about this feels off.”

Alberu told Choi Han who was gripping his scabbard tightly.

“His Majesty is going first?”

“Seems like it.”

You can Cale continued talking as you fight. It reminded you of the small talks he would engage you in as you train.

It reminded you that this is probably the last time you will be able to talk to him like this.

“Ow! That hurts you know!”

A particular attack from the Sky Eating Water rendered you unable to pick up the sword. Cale took this as an opportunity to hold you down using the trees summoned earlier to fight the Electric Eel.

You watch as Cale turns off his Sound of the Wind. He walks towards you at a leisurely pace, picking up your sword on the way. 

“I’m sorry.”

He said and you noticed his hand tremble ever so slightly.

“Don’t be. I’m happy that it’s you. Do you want to know what’s the prerequisite of my death?”

Cale did not answer but you said it anyway.

“I shall die by the hands of the one that loves me the most. That’s what it said.”

The commander’s eyes shook along with his hand.

“That’s why I’m glad…”

Blood spilt from your mouth as your sword stabbed your heart. From the corner of your eye, you could see Choi Han running towards where you are.

“_____-nim!”

Your brother called out to you as Cale let go of his control on the trees in favour of holding you instead. 

There’s still blood spilling from your mouth but that didn’t stop you from smiling at him. Your smile was weak and tired, but it was the best you could do at the moment.

“I’m fine…”

You assured Cale squeezing your hand.

“I’ll be waiting for you in our world. So don’t be sad okay? Remember you have to overcome despair.”

“Promise?”

Cale asked you as he cradled your body in his chest.

“I promise.”

You left out the part that you’ll probably be dead or dying when he sees you. 

Weakly, but full of determination you raised your left hand to link your pinkies together. The diamond in your engagement ring shone as you did. Meanwhile, your right hand is being held by Choi Han.

They said that your life will flash in your eyes at your last moments. No such thing happened to you. But you did remember a conversation that you and your lover had prior to this whole thing.

“So you’re birthday is on November 8th? Why are you only telling me this now? There’s so little time to prepare a gift for you!”

“What are you talking about it’s still so far away?”

“No, it’s not! It’s not enough time for me to prepare the perfect gift for you.”

That’s right, today is November 8 in this world. It’s Cale’s birthday…

“In Raon’s castle… My gift is there. He should know about it…”

“You can just give it to me yourself when we get back.”

Cale answered and you almost laughed at his cluelessness.

“...Happy birthday my love. May you always find happiness.”

Those were your last words before you took your last breath. Before your body slowly turned into dust in Cale’s hold.

But Cale wasn’t in despair even as you die.

He may be sad, but he wasn’t in despair.

It was because he was holding onto your words that you’d meet him back home.

That’s how Cale was able to pass the Sealed God’s test.

But why…

“MOVE ASIDE, LET PENDRICK AND SAINT-NIM HANDLE IT!”

Why was the first thing he heard as soon as he came back Alberu’s shouting when he was supposed to be in his castle making preparations?

“CALL FOR MORE HEALERS WE’RE LOSING _____-NIM!”

“_____ wake up. Please wake up.”

Alberu and Raon’s voice rang on his head. 

At that moment. Rosalyn and Eruhaben noticed that he was back. They quickly greeted him before calling over Raon and Sherrit to remove the barrier that surrounded him.

“What’s happening?”

Cale asks as he enters the room where the shouts are coming from.

The sight made him stop in his tracks.

Laying on a grass bed that’s similar to where he was just a few minutes ago was his lover. His fiance.

They were lying there. Bleeding.

On the heart.

Exactly where Cale had stabbed them back on Earth.

A realisation dawned on him at the moment.

You just promised that you would meet him back home.

You did not promise that you would meet him alive.

Cale, the fool, had only assumed you would.

[itgetzweird08]

SECOND VARIATION LETS GO!! Again, this was inspired by this TikTok sound! Here is the link to the first version, so check that out too!

Prince! Bakugo x Reader

Okay so my second idea was Prince! Bakugo and Lower Status! Reader. Now, Bakugo has seen you at court for years. You grew up in the higher part of society, your parents’ names holding a bit of weight. This means Bakugo would see you at balls and teas and even on promenade. And every time he saw you, it was like his head would fill with static and his heart would damn near tumble out of his chest.

Everytime he spoke with you, it was all he could think about for weeks. You often spoke of recent books you’ve read, or a new play you’ve seen, or you would listen as he recounted his latest adventure. But you never really spoke past casual conversation.

However, we all know with Katsuki, it’s all about the little things. He would notice how you would tap your feet in time to the music being played at the ball, yet would claim that you had no rhythm when someone tried to dance with you. He noticed during high teas how you would always put two cubes of sugar in your cup, then secretly pop in between your lips when your mother wasn’t looking. He even noticed the way you always thanked the horse that pulled your carriage. This list of little things continued to grow, and slowly he began to hear your voice when you weren’t there, and would long to hear you laugh. Despite your few interactions, he was absolutely smitten. And as subtle as he tried to be, wanting to keep his pride and ego safe, it wasn’t subtle enough as his parents had noted his liking toward you.

The great general All Might seemed to bless him when his mother spoke to him about his arranged marriage. He was furious at first, panicked even, at the thought of marrying anyone but you. But at some point, your family had fallen on hard times, and your parents needed a saving grace. So they gave you away to the highest bidder, and no one bid higher than the King and Queen. Plus, not only would the marriage repair your parent’s name and status, but the Bakugo line was now sure to live on. It was a win win for everyone.

With white satin gloves smoothing over your clothes, you walked into the tea room where Prince Bakugo, your new fiancé, awaited you. His smile was gentle, a bit crooked even, and you thought to yourself “Maybe this won’t be so bad”

“I could never choose to love another”

“Maybe one day I could learn to love you…too”

[give-grian-rights]

Hermitcraft - Basic History of Teams!

Alright. Buckle in.

Only a few days from now, and Hermitcraft 10 will begin! If you're new, I hope this helps!

Hermitcraft has existed for over ELEVEN YEARS now! While very few have been here for every single season, with the exception of our lovely Tumblr Resident, and official Tumblr Sexy Man Joe Hills, and our derp Xisumavoid.

You are under NO obligation to watch every season. There are probably few, if any, active users in this community who have. It's just not possible to watch it all. You don't need to watch the previous seasons to enjoy our community space! While there are a lot of back-references, for MOST people, it doesn't extend to lore and actions any older than season 6.

Most of the Hermits are associated with specific other members, despite ALL OF THEM taking turns collaborating, interacting, and sometimes building whole new dynamics and factions in the process. Some of the team-ups that you'll see referred to in fandom-spaces and the occasional one-off mention from our creators, include:

(Season 5) NHO, New Hermit Order - Docm77, Ethoslab, Bdoubleo100, and VintageBeef. Living in a jungle while having "fights" with others. Attempts to tax those who enter their jungle, had traps around it, and criticized the then-popular AFK Fishing Farms. Bdoubleo100, or Bdubs, especially enjoyed stealing from these. (Season 5-6) Convex, or ConCorp - GoodTimesWithScar and Cubfan135. One group I am the least familiar with unfortunately. They built a brand around the Vexes, with their business having pretty extreme low-morals that includes pollution and war profiteering.

(Season 6) ArciTects - Very close to be naming "BuildStone", it was proposed by and founded by Grian to Mumbo, later giving an invite to Iskall85. The purpose of this alliance was for builders to help redstoners, and redstoner to help builders. It accumulated in the ATTEMPT of founding the "greatest shop in the history of Hermitcraft", Sahara. It was, hilariously, a very large failure. Grian miraculously managed to entirely ruin the system with a single baked potato. No, I don't know how.

(Season 6) G-Team & Team STAR (Superior Tactical Alliance for Retaliation) - The Hermitcraft Civil War, consisted of a long list of minor conflicts in which various members of Hermitcraft blamed other people for pranks they committed, eventually spiraling into the confusion that was The Civil War! G-Team: Grian, TangoTek, Iskall85, Joe Hills, ZombieCleo, StressMonster101, and iJevin. Team STAR: Docm77, WelsKnight, FalseSymmetry, ImpulseSV Xisuma, RenDog

Mumbo Jumbo acted as a mole in Team Star, for the G-Team. He created this commercial for Team STAR. Team STAR made a very iconic diss track, which was soon remixed. It is a...Very iconic piece of Hermitcraft fandom. The result was Joe Hill's Response, in his short video also remixed by the same creator. Albeit missing the additions of the totally real voices of the other G-Team members

(Season 6) Area 77 & The Hippies - (I didn't finish Hippies POV and i didn't watch anything of Doc or Scar's POV of this unfortunately) Area 77 was founded by (unsurprisingly) Docm77, and GoodTimesWithScar, where they were doing experiments and studying abonomalies. SOmehow, this lead into Grian, once again, turning against them and forming The Hippies with the help of Ren, with Impulse soon joining. The conflict primarily consisted of them griefing Area 77 with flowers.

(Season 7) Boomers Demolition - Early game business formed by TangoTek, Bdoubleo100, and ImpulseSV which consistedo f almost exclusively non-duped TnT demolition, and was very fun!!

(Season 7) The Mycellium Resistance/HEP (Hermitcraft Environmental Protection) Hermicraft 7 saw Grian introduce the Hermitcraft Mayoral Election, created with the idea of putting Mumbo in as a puppet-government. If I had a nickel for every time Grian tried to start a puppet government (at this point) I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice. Grian and Mumbo lost. In it's place was GoodTimesWIthScar. As Mayor, they had further control over the shopping district. Scar's promise was to replace the shopping district's Mycellium with grass. Despite very happily admitting that grass looked better, Grian, in a moment of nostalgia, decided to replace some Mycellium. Scar proceeded by putting caution tape around the area. This spiraled into The Turf War

Mycellium Resistance: Grian (Mother Spore), ImpulseSV, RenDog, XBCrafted, iJevin, Ethoslab, StressMonster101, Docm77, and Mumbo Jumbo HEP/Mayor Scar: Scar, Bdoubleo100, Keralis, Xisumavoid, TangoTek, Cubfan135, FalseSymmetry, Mumbo Jumbo, who joined due to them having the better vault. Etho had intended on being a double-agent, selling information to Scar. His information, however, was useless on purpose and decided to pledge full loyalty to The Resistance.

(Season 8) Boatem Hole - Grian, Mumbo Jumbo, GoodTimesWithScar, ImpulseSV and PearlescentMoon more or less stumbled and tripped into forming a group after innocently stacking boats and crafting tables and crystals on a pole, dubbed Boatem Poll. They then proceeded to create a hole down to bedrock, and eventually into the void, called the Boatem Hole. It was a large plains biome which was turned into varying mountain terraforming and the like from all of them and was connected in some small ways.

(Season 8) The Big Eyed Crew - Bdoubleo100, Keralis, and TangoTek. Tango did not, in fact, have big eyes and instead wore sunglasses to compensate. They had a town and shopping area and was occasionally dragged into pranks by the Boatem Crew.

(Season 8) Octogon/Goatem - Docm77 and RenDog! Main rivals with Boatem (thus the Goatem - pole of goats) had a mega business, game-breaking creations, and jaw-dropping spidery teal-and-deepslate creations. Weird Science!

(Season 9) Soup Crew - ImpulseSV, PearlescentMoon, GeminiTay. Made the CRAZIEST combo-base where all their different themes blended into a cohesive build

(Season 9) Buttercups - Grian, MumboJumbo, and GoodTimesWithScar. What's up, Buttercup? They formed after an incient where Scar and Grian blew up a massive, complex tunnel bomber in Doc's base. They could not understand how to repair it, and left a few diamond blocks before conflict started. They dragged Mumbo in, and had a robot fight with...

(Season 9) The Perimeter - Docm77 and RenDog. Doc's base, known as The Perimeter, teamed with Ren to attack the Buttercups using walking redstone creations to do a robot fight. Due to an issue with one of the server's plugins, they all re-logged, breaking one of the bots and ending with Buttercup's bot to do more harm to itself than the Perimeter's, but ultimately the destruction did prevent Doc and Ren from getting any further. Ren and Doc then launched flying TnT dupers, which looked like butterflies, towards all of the Buttercups' bases and camp. They stopped them both, with one butterfly destroying The Perimeter's own bot even further.

I am so sure that I'm missing some, but I am losing my mind with all this trying to remember them all!! I hope this could give people an idea of who they might enjoy watching!

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 5 - Confrontation~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: While out for a walk, you run into everyone’s ‘favorite’ Overlord, resulting in a brutal altercation. Recognizing the danger you put yourself in, Alastor is all too willing to offer another deal. 

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, Valentino so yeah, mentions of blood and bodily harm, eventual smut (it will return), actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+ MDNI

3.7k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 (You're on it!) Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

When you asked Alastor to prove himself to you, you half expected him to just continue ignoring you around the hotel. He seemed like the type to keep any personal interaction behind closed doors. Keeping some privacy isn’t a bad thing. Before the deal, he stuck to doing his job around the hotel, helping Charlie with whatever new idea or ask she had, and broadcasting his evening radio show. Every so often he might have a drink at the bar, making small talk with Husk and Nifty, otherwise he kept to himself in the shadows.

These last few weeks were slightly different. If he grabbed a coffee, he also poured one for you (always using one of his mugs). He made a point of being at every group activity, standing practically on top of you with a hand on the small of your back. He often offered to accompany you into town if you were going for a walk. “I just enjoy your company dear” he would reason. You’re far from complaining, however, the other residents were starting to notice.

“Alright what’s the deal?” Husk thumps your drink on the bar, his aggressive tone catching you off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“You and Al – what the fuck is going on there? I thought you had more common sense than associating yourself with his sorts.”

Fuckin ouch.

“I have plenty of sense Husker,” you hissed with irritation at what he was insinuating. Vaggie and Angel silently take their seats next to you, feeling the tension of the conversation. “– and if you must know we discovered we have more in common than we thought. You of all people should know keeping someone of his sorts on good terms is wise. Thank you for your concern though.” You throw back your drink, slamming the empty glass into the bar as you stand up.  

Husk tries to smooth over your venom, “Listen kid, you’re still pretty new to Hell…I’m just –“

“Thank you again Husk! Talking with you is always a pleasure.” You cut him off, putting on your jacket and walking towards the hotel doors.

Footsteps trail behind you - followed by a hand on your shoulder, “Hey doll, don’t be too upset with him. We all just….we worry is all. Smiles is still Mr. Mystery pants. Charlie seems to be the only one not worried about his intentions.” Angel offers you a cautious grin. His smile always seems to brighten your mood.

You place your hand on top of his, “Thank you hun. I’m not mad and I understand everyone’s… apprehension…. But I need you guys to trust that I know what I’m doing. You all have enough to worry about around here.” R̵͚̀ŭ̴͓l̷̥̓ȩ̷͒ ̷̢́#̵̧͌3̶̫̈́ ̴̬̾N̶̬͊e̷͇͂v̵̞̚ę̴̿ŕ̵̖ ̵̟̈́ḅ̶͂r̷̤̔í̸͜n̴̳͌g̴̫͐ ̶̢͠a̸̳͝n̶͕̐y̴̓ͅo̸͎̐n̷̚͜ȩ̷̇ ̸̪̑ẗ̶͈́ő̴͜o̷̺̊ ̵̛̬c̴̘̀ľ̴̹o̶͇͗s̸̠̾e̴͇͝

Needing some time to yourself, you decide to take a stroll through Pentagram City. The streets could be dangerous when traveling alone, but Carmilla was kind enough to let you leave with some…equipment. Like a nervous tick, you palm the carmine knife sheathed on your waist. You always hope there isn’t a need to use it but can never be too careful.

Heaven’s embassy clock ticked down, showing less than 100 days until the next extermination. You sigh at the thought, taking notes as you walk. Every year you mapped out places you would be needed most, where you could hide sinners, alleys you could use to corner or escape the Exorcists. Maybe Alastor could help me this time? He did say together we would be more powerful.

Lost in your plans, you don’t realize you’ve started pacing the streets of the V’s territory. It isn’t until you hear someone yelling down an alley that you become aware of your surroundings.

“Listen here, you little fuck – you’re our lowest earner this month and I’m in a bad mood so…” a large demon pins a rabbit-like sinner to the alley wall, pulling a pink and white gun from his hip. “I figured you could help me BLOW off some steam. Now, now, baby - hold still for me and don’t make too much of a mess hmm?”

You look closer and recognize the tall moth demon.

Fucking Valentino.

You see red and make your way down the alley. Hearing your footsteps he turns but not before you blindside him, body slamming him to the ground. The sound of metal echoes as his gun slides across the pavement. The poor sinner runs off without a word. You’re welcome, I guess. You bend over the disoriented Valentino.

“Tough luck being out here today Val – Coincidentally I’m also in a bad mood so let’s have a chat.”

With a gust of his wings Val pushes himself off the ground and towers over you. “Ohhhhh aren’t you CUTE. Ya know people would pay good money to see a spicy chiquita like you fucked into her place, however that little stunt just sealed a different fate for you.” Smoke floods around you, wrapping tightly around your body. Your feet leave the ground as he pulls you close enough to run his tongue across your cheek. “Hmmm…tasty. Maybe I shouldn’t kill you. I could do quite a bit with this body of yours.”

A cynical laugh erupts from your chest. “Oh please – set me down. Save us both the embarrassment.” He cocks an eyebrow at your demand and tightens his smoke’s grip.

Feeling the crack of your ribs almost knocks all the air out of your lungs, but your rage is stronger than any pain. I’ve watched him hurt Angel one too many times. 

“Wrong answer Val.” You concentrate your power, hands aglow as they conjure tiny, razor-sharp needles. With a swift flick of your wrists, they pierce and slice through Val's wings. “Cool thing about needles, they can help pull you together or tear...you…apart.” He howls from the pain, loosening his grip on you. With a little more room to move, you pull yourself back and headbutt him with so much force his glasses shatter. The blow makes his smoke disappear and you drop back to the ground. Time for some fun.

Unable to see clearly - Val frantically feels around for his gun. Pathetic. Crushing his hand with one foot, you use the other to deliver a full force kick to his chin, sending his gold tooth down the alley. “You little BITCH! Who the fuck do you think you are!?” he growls as blood pours from his mouth. You climb on top of him, pinning him down with a knee slowly crushing his dick. Screams of pure agony echo off the surrounding walls.    

You grab his face with one hand and pull the knife from your waist, digging the point into Val’s cheek, “You lay your hands on any of your employees again, I’ll make sure this knife gets buried into your chest. Now be a good boy and let me decorate that pretty little face.” You turn his head and hastily carve “spurc” into his cheek. He cries out with each attempt to move, feeling your knee dig deeper into him. “Shhhh you can take it baby, come on, we’re almost done. That’s what you tell them, right? NOW HOLD STILL.” Mocking his pain you turn his head the other way, slicing “issime” into his other cheek. Blood pours from his face, staining your hands and wrists. “Spurcissime – complete filth. Quite fitting I think.”

You stand up to admire your work and release the demon writhing on the ground. Time to go. Turning to leave, you hear Val call out to someone. What is he crying about now? Without warning you’re hurled against the brick wall - your head taking the worst of the impact. As you struggle to pull your body off the ground, a large, blue claw wraps around your neck to pick you up. Between the blow to your head and your now rapidly declining oxygen, your strength dwindles.

“Are you fucking kidding me Val –You got your ass beat by Carmilla Carmine’s secretary!?”

How the fuck does he remember me?

“No she’s not –“ Val tries to warn but is ultimately ignored.

“It’s okay sweetheart. She can replace you. Sucks though. I always enjoyed staring at that ass. Made the meetings less insufferable.” Vox’s grip tightens around your neck and his other hand slides up your thigh, starting to grope every inch of you. Your vision begins to tunnel as your body goes limp, his grasp controlled and unforgiving.

Just before complete darkness takes over, a familiar voice booms in your ears, “ENOUGH!” The hand around your neck releases and the world around you spins, fading out then back in. You pull yourself to your hands and knees and try to gasp. A stabbing pain rips across your sides with every attempt to collect the air around you. Any adrenaline your body had was long gone now. Oh yeah, cracked ribs. Ouch.

Looking up you realize you’re in Alastor’s room. Any other day you would have inhaled the soft musk filling the air, but right now you can barely take a breath. “Alastor?” you whimper, throat hoarse from being nearly crushed. “Hello? Alastor?” Still silence. You lay back on the floor to try to steady your breathing and wait for the Radio Demon to make an appearance.

It only takes a few minutes to see his shadow appear, followed by Alastor himself. The initial relief you feel is quickly replaced by concern. His jacket was ripped up, and blood trailed across his mouth. “Shit are you okay? What happened?” you try to move to him but double over.

He huffs wiping the blood from his face. “No, you don’t get to ask the questions right now.” His words were near inaudible over the static. He was livid. “I want to know what the FUCK you were doing out in V territory ALONE!?” He rather unkindly picks you up, prompting throaty cries of pain and protest.

Alastor brings you to the bathroom and sits you up on the counter while he digs through his medical kit. You finally gather enough breath to speak, “Last I checked, I don’t need permission to walk around the city. Have you forgotten who I am? I am not some stupid -”

“Well apparently you are.” He bites at you without making eye contact – continuing to pull apart the kit.

Tears well up in your eyes. Too tired to fight them back you let their warmth coat your face. They steadily stream down and drop into your blood-soaked hands. You try to squeak out an explanation, “He…he just hurts so many people. He almost killed Angel. If you ask – “

“I didn’t.” he cuts in.

“I didn’t know he would get Vox in –“

“I don’t care.”

“FUCK Alastor what is your problem!?” you snap, tears burning as they run down your cheeks.

He slams his hands on either side of your legs, caging in your body and leaning right down to your face. If he wasn’t pissed right now, this would be so attractive.

“My problem? What is my problem?” Alastor’s antlers expand and a red ‘x’ glows on his forehead. His body grows and looms over you as his grip starts to crack the countertop, “Do you forget who they are? Of course Vox got involved! And if I hadn’t stepped in, he would have done who knows what to you! His hands already started to defile you - Is that what you wanted? To die at the hand of a perverted, unscrupulous Overlord?” His words were like knives, and you despised every slice he made.

His outburst ignites your own rage, making your demon form flare, “No, Damnit, you don’t get it! Down here you’ve only ever lived for yourself! You’ve never watched someone you care about almost die because of some piece of shit! You’ve never felt the need to tear that person limb from limb for what they did! I wanted to make him suffer and I DID!“ you scream at him until your voice gives out and your body gives up. A deafening silence falls over the bathroom. The only sounds reverberating off the walls are your stifled sobs. Some from anger, some from pain. Ṟ̸̂u̸̫͂l̴̟̈e̷̩͛ ̸͖̽#̷̹̀4̴̎͜ ̴̰̇Ṉ̷̀e̸̲͌v̴̻̈́e̵̥͘ṛ̸͛ ̵̗̑l̴͍̃ė̶̠t̶͈̾ ̴̣̒y̷̬͋ò̵̭u̸̩̽ŕ̶̼ ̴̪̾ẉ̵̑ȅ̴̩ą̴̕k̵̗̐n̶̻̅ȇ̷̳s̸̢͋s̸͖͂e̷̡͛s̶̘̍ ̴͍̏š̴̢h̶̼̐ǫ̴͊w̷͉͝

 Alastor shrinks back to normal. He cups your face gently to clean off the dirt and blood – tending to the few scrapes across your cheeks. You keep your eyes down to avoid his stare. The last thing you want to see is pity from the demon, at least not right now.

As he kneels to clean your hands, his buttery voice finally breaks the quiet, “You know, had you said all of that yesterday, you would have been absolutely right.” He looks up, noticing your head tilt in confusion. “Seeing his hands on you triggered something in me, and I wanted nothing more than to rip apart that piece of shit for….trying to take you away from me. So yes, I do understand. But that doesn’t mean I’m still not cross with you for going by yourself. You’re lucky I had my shadow follow you.” A sly smile flashes up at you. In that moment a gnawing thought crosses your mind. Does he actually care for me? Or is he only afraid to lose the power I can give him?

Either way, he did save you, so you conjure enough strength in your voice to whisper, “Thank you Alastor,” and place a kiss on his forehead.

Once he finishes cleaning the cuts on your hands, he stands and hooks a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His red eyes dart back and forth between yours as if trying to read every thought you could have. A smile paints his face but you can see something more. Worry? Sadness? Regret? You want to question him but the intensity of his stare has you frozen.

“I want to make another deal.” he finally says in a whisper, holding his gaze. Your stomach drops. This is what you’ve been worried about. That he was going to try to break down your walls until you willingly promise him your soul, bounding everything you have to him. R̴̤͑u̵͓̒l̷͊ͅḛ̸̒ ̸̉͜#̴͉̓1̶͇̔ ̸̟͑Ṋ̸͋e̷̮̎v̷̼̾e̸̪͌r̴̥̈́ ̵̳̽t̴̩͐r̶̻͊u̷̘͝ș̴͒t̶͙̂ ̶̝͑â̵̩n̴̙̿o̸̡͗t̸͚̒h̴̯̓ë̸͓́r̶͎̂ ̸̙̎O̸̺͌v̷̧͠è̴̼r̸̹̓l̵͊ͅo̸̜͒r̵̠̂d̸͓̽ . 

“Wh-what?”

“I want to make another deal - you promise to let me accompany you every time you leave these hotel walls and, in exchange, I will teach you how to grow your strength and power so this never happens again.” Well that is not the deal I was expecting.

Relief replaces anxiety. You lean in and give a cheeky smile, “You do realize both of those things can happen without a deal - unless you’re just looking for an excuse to kiss me again.”

“Bold of you to assume I need an excuse, “ he purred, closing the last bit of space between your bodies, lips hovering over yours, ‘but do we have a deal?”

You can barely breathe out “Deal.” before his lips gently press into yours. A glow fills the room but you don’t even notice this time, too lost in his touch to care. 

He reluctantly pulls away, “You should probably stay here tonight. I don’t think it’s wise for you to be alone in this condition.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I got it –“ hopping off the counter, you almost crumple to your knees. Alastor catches you with a smug chuckle. “I had a feeling you would fight me on that. It is completely up to you of course. However I will warn you I am willing to go to extreme lengths to convince you of the right choice.”

Once again, you’re lifted up and out of the bathroom. “Don’t threaten me with a good time -” You try to tease but lose your breath. A low laugh leaves his chest, “I believe we’ve had enough fun today my dear.” Every muscle in your body welcomes the soft bed as he lays you down on his silk sheets. 

Your eyes flutter heavily as you hear him move about the room, leaving briefly. Am I really going to stay here with him? Guess not too much of a choice now. I know he won’t hurt me, not tonight anyway. The door opens and you feel him climb into the bed with you. 

Turning to face him, you watch him lean back against the headboard, book in hand. “I thought you didn’t sleep.” you joke drowsily. 

“I don't need much but that just means I can keep you company while you rest.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to…but maybe you could tell me some stories about when you were alive? You can be my personal radio show for the night.”

A pleased hum leaves his chest, “As you wish, ma chère.” He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer. Time might as well have stopped as he begins telling you about his life, his mom, his home, the old radio show. You practically melt into his chest while drinking in every drop of his sweet voice. It was nice to peel back a few layers of who the Radio Demon was.

You wake up in a panic the next morning. Sitting up, your tired brain takes a moment to catch up with your surroundings and you relax remembering the previous night’s events. The mirror across the room catches your eye, showing purple and blue bruises painted across your skin. “Uhhg I look rough.” you whisper to yourself. 

“Still beautiful as ever, my dear.” a voice cut in, making your heart jump into your throat. You didn’t even notice his shadow or him fading into the room while you tried to collect yourself. “Good morning Alastor, and thank you but these marks are not very flattering.” 

He sits on the edge of the bed and lightly traces his hand around your face and throat. His smile almost falters. “I loathe seeing the marks he’s left on you…but I take pride in knowing he won’t ever lay a hand on you again.” a snide grin crosses his face. That’s probably why he took so long to get back to the hotel. I don’t even want to know what he did to Vox in that alley.

“Now! You stay here, I will go grab us some coffee!” Alastor jumps up to rush out the door but you stop him. “No, wait – I want to come with you.” He nods and leans against the doorway, waiting for you to put yourself together. You only bother to run a comb through your hair. No use in trying to cover up anything.

He wraps his arm around your waist while walking down to the lobby. Plopping yourself on the couch, you look up to see Husk staring over a newspaper, eyebrow cocked. A gruff “Hmpf” comes from behind the paper as Alastor walks by into the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, “Don’t even start Husk.” 

He slams the paper down on the bar, “I ain’t startin nothin! But it sure looks like he tried to finish –“ “He didn’t touch me. I wouldn’t even be sitting here if it wasn’t for him – “

Angel bursts through the hotel doors roaring with excitement, abruptly ending your conversation with Husk. “Oh good you guys are here – you will not BELIEVE what happened last night and holy shit what happened to you!?“

He looks mortified at the marks across your face. “Tripped. Please continue.” you say dryly.

Alastor finally returns with coffee, taking his seat right next to you as Angel finishes talking about his shift and how bad of a condition Val was in.

“It’s crazy someone was powerful enough…or ballsy enough…to do something like that to him. He’s pissed and from what I heard, Vox wasn’t looking too hot either.” You shoot a look over to Alastor who huffs smugly, looking away as he takes a sip of his coffee. I fucking knew it.

You turn your attention back to Angel, “If someone knocked him around that much, he’s bound to want to take it out on someone. Are - are things going to get worse for you?” Anxiety grips your chest at the realization you may have only aggravated Angel’s situation rather than helped.

“Eh it’ll be weeks before he even gets back to working the studio, besides no one is going to take him seriously with those words on his face. Whoever got ahold of him CARVED into his cheeks. Fuckin deep too. Heard it was a carmine knife, so Satan knows it’s gonna scar.” The enthusiasm in his voice helps ease your worries.

Husk finally chimes into the conversation, “hmm and uh – what exactly was written on his face?” his eyes look straight through Angel and settle on you. There’s no way he thinks –

“I don’t know some Latin shit I can’t pronounce. I overheard some older demons say it ‘labeled him as dirty’ or something like that.” Angel shrugs it off and continues joking about how great the next few weeks were going to be for him.

You finish your coffee and stand to get more, wincing at how sore you still feel.

“You could have asked me, dear. I was about to get up for more as well.” Alastor motions for you to sit back down while taking your cup. When he walks away, Angel comes over and sits on the floor next to you.

“Soooo…you gonna to tell me who actually gave you those bruises? Did you get freaky with Smiles? I just knew he was into that kinda –“

“He didn’t do this Angel.” Your words are soft but stern. He looks up with worry in his eyes. “Don’t take pity on me like that. I am FINE…” you peek up to see Husk’s back turned. Leaning over Angel’s ear, you drop your voice to a whisper, “and uh, between you and me – the word is spurcissime. Roughly translates to ‘complete filth’.” R̴̗͠ǔ̷̮l̸͍͘ẽ̴̘ ̴̩͑#̴̙͆2̸̥̎ ̴̲͌N̸̰̒e̵͔͝v̴̯̆ë̸͙́r̴̬̀ ̸̩̏t̶̳̍ḙ̵̑l̴̥͝l̵̹̍ ̴͎͆ă̴̤ ̷͖̉s̴͕̕o̸̼͊ǔ̶̡l̶̝̿ ̷̺̓ẅ̵̟́ĥ̵̞a̶͖̿ṱ̵̏ ̸̢̕(̵͉̽ŏ̵̢r̵͚͛ ̷̘̈h̷̯̾ò̴̺w̵͉̑ ̸͔̀m̷̡̈́ủ̷̞c̶͂ͅh̷͇̋)̶̻̂ ̵͖̈p̵͍͒o̶̤̽ẉ̶́e̷̤̚ȑ̵̪ ̸̣̚ÿ̴̥ö̶́͜ù̸͎ ̸͇̑ĥ̸̤ä̷̙v̶͖͒e̶̥͛

You sit back on the couch haughtily, taking pleasure in the absolutely dumbfounded look on his face.  

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp 

[brights-place]

I don't know if you're taking requests rn but can you do a brozone x sister reader where the bros find out she has a family of her own?

Brozone bro's X Younger sister with a family!

Pairing: Brozone X Younger sister (platonic)

Warnings: fluff, family, MORE FLUFF

A/N: YIPPEEEEE! Another Younger sister request! I hope this is good enough for you all!

- Your brothers had no idea that you had a family of your own like bruce! it was a surprise to them when they saw you with your family after saving floyd together. - At first they were surprised but then they accepted you not telling them yet they were a bit disappointed that they didn't know about your family before but they understood that you wanted to keep it private! - Your older brothers did feel a bit hurt that you didn't trust them enough to tell them but they understood that it was your decision and they respected that well because they all separated when you and branch were young - Though bruce was cheering that he wasn't the only family man! - Brandy and your partner got along SO WELL! along with Viva and Poppy all four of them bonding about how they all are dating someone who was apart of brozone well while your partner was cooing how they were dating someone as amazing as you! - They were curious to know more about your family and to see how your life had turned out! - They loved to see how happy and content you seemed in her new family and they were happy and supported your new life! - You introduced your kids to their uncles which made your brothers cheer as the kids went to talk to the other kids and the adults get to talk to the adults! - You and your siblings had spent some time getting to know each other and sharing stories about their experiences while they were apart - Bruce and you would exchange tips while John dory told the kids embarrassing stories about you and showed baby photos - Branch was sweat dropping when one of the kids tried to talk to him about things until the child brought up about inventions and then your child and Branch got into making blueprints on the floor.... - Floyd was helping your partner and giving them well emotional advice if the kids brought stress while Clay was surprisingly tossing the kids around being goofy like he was when he was younger without force... - The others would tease the reader and their partner about how they first met and fell in love, with some exaggerating stories to make them seem more dramatic and comedic. - you all agreed to be closer and more open with each other from now on! and your kids always begged to see their uncles! which always made you laugh!

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[writeforfandoms]

Born for Greatness 6

Find the series masterlist

You may have noticed this is now chapter 6 of 9! There are 8 official chapters and then there will be one bonus chapter with the 141 pack and Logan interacting.

This chapter, you have a very hard time. But not everything is bad.

Warnings: Swearing, attachment issues, John Price is his own warning, more world building and shifter behavior, pack cuddles definitely need their own warning. Discussion of reader's past and issues. Bodily throwing reader into a cold pond.

John Price x f!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Something shifted after that movie night. Suddenly, Price was everywhere - checking up on you, watching you while he worked with rookies, ensuring you ate. 

And as much as Logan liked to tease you that you were wilfully blind, you knew what this kind of behavior meant, especially coming from him. 

He was treating you as pack. 

You weren’t sure what surprised you more - the treatment, or the lack of protest from Logan. Logan did watch Price any time they were in the same room, but he was being oddly calm about everything. 

Which just meant you were mentally braced for something to blow up. 

But you finally got the make-up class for the last group of soldiers scheduled. You ignored the fact that Logan followed you to class, taking a seat back behind you. 

That class went off without a hitch, which… was good. It was. It was a good thing.

Even if the continued good behavior of the soldiers meant you were that much closer to being done with your job here. Really, there were just a few things left on your to-do list.

You tried hard not to feel disappointed about that.

Especially when the order from LoveSac arrived. That was a big item off your list. You mostly watched as the pack (plus Logan) got the pieces set up in the rec room, although you did smile when Soap threw himself onto the finished product with a low groan. 

“Ye were right,” he mumbled, just barely audible to you. “This is great.”

You laughed quietly. “I’m glad you approve.” But the pang of your heart must not have been as concealed as you’d hoped - three heads swiveled to look at you: Ghost, Price, and Logan. “You lot should get comfortable, make it feel more like home,” you said, quickly looking away from the shifters. “Soap’s got the right idea, take a nap.” 

Your phone ringing gave you the perfect excuse to escape, which you took. Your feet moved on autopilot as you listened to the woman on the other end of the call, making the appropriate noises at the appropriate times. 

You weren’t even surprised when you found yourself outside. It was just that kind of day, clearly. It couldn’t just be one thing, it had to be multiple things at once. You thanked the woman softly and hung up. 

Briefly, you debated climbing up onto the roof of the barracks again. But you dismissed the thought. Not this time. You needed to actually start tackling this problem. 

“Bad news?”

You yelped, fumbling your phone as you whirled to face Price. “I swear I’m going to put a fucking bell on you.” 

“Sorry.” This time he actually sounded like he meant it, hands out at his sides, eyes very blue before you yanked your gaze back down to your phone. 

“It’s fine.” You blew out a breath, leaning over to grab your phone and wipe it off, avoiding looking at him. 

“What happened?” He shifted closer, slowly, carefully. 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” You shrugged off his concern with a little smile. “Don’t worry about it.” 

He chuckled quietly, taking another step closer to you. “I’m the alpha,” he rumbled, “which means it’s my job to worry.”

You huffed something almost a laugh. “I suppose so.” You rubbed one hand over your face, pressing your thumb and forefinger into your eyes until stars burst in the darkness under your eyelids. “Apparently, there was a fire in my apartment complex and the whole thing is closed off pending investigation. There was some damage to my apartment, but I have no idea how much.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Price murmured, low and gentle and closer than you expected. “Do you need to go?”

“No, won’t do me any good.” You let your hand drop back to your side, blinking a few times to get rid of the last few spots in your vision. “Besides, I’m almost done here.”

“That so?” He tipped his head at you.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “The LoveSac was the last big thing. Just need to do another day or two of observing everyone, and then I can sign off on everything.” 

“So you’re a day or two away from being done with this job.” He crossed his arms loosely over his chest. 

“Yes.”

“Stay here.”

You blinked up at him, sure you’d misheard him. “...What?” 

“Stay here,” he offered again, watching you closely. “For as long as you want.”

“But I’m not military,” was the first thing out of your mouth. You were still a little bit in shock.

“I’ll take care of that.” One big hand settled over the back of your neck, warm and soothing. “Think about it, hm? All you have to do is tell me yes or no.” 

“Okay,” you agreed quietly, a little bewildered still. “I will… let you know.” 

He nodded, squeezing gently. You could have melted. Your eyes fluttered closed and you had to force them back open again, holding steady against him. “Call me John.” 

You blinked, eyes blowing wide. “Okay. John.” 

“Come back inside,” he suggested, ever so gently tugging you forward. “Join the boys. Relax a bit, eh?” 

You thought about resisting, about writing up the report that you really should be working on, about the half-dozen other little things you could do. Thought about the big things that needed doing too, like finding a new apartment.

And then you gave in with a sigh. “Yeah, alright,” you agreed, allowing the comforting warmth of his hand at the nape of your neck to guide you forward. “For a little while.” 

Price - John - didn’t relinquish his grip on you until you were back in the rec room. Logan was gone, but you didn’t have time to ask where he’d gone, because Soap got up from the LoveSac to grab you from John. 

“Ye alright?” he asked, tucking you under his arm easily as he guided you to the napping spot. 

“Getting there.” You shrugged, unwilling to go into things again. You were busy shoving your feelings down. 

Soap nodded, searching your expression, before he grinned. “Hey, LT. Incoming.” 

You had approximately a second to think oh shit before Soap tumbled you over the back of the couch, somehow avoiding Gaz. 

And landing you right in front of the cheetah.

Ghost simply blinked at you languidly, nose twitching as he sniffed you. You blinked back at him, holding very still. Not that you really thought he’d do anything to hurt you, but still. 

You did startle when he laid half-across you, purring. Oh. Oh that was really kind of nice, actually. The purring was soothing, and the weight of him was nice (since he wasn’t fully laying on you), and it was all too easy to go lax. 

“Ye never purr like that at me,” Soap grumbled, pout clear in his voice. 

“Hush.” That was John, soft but still in charge. 

There was a little grumble and then Soap flopped over around you, his head near yours and his body curled to fit into the free space around you. Which you noticed when you opened one eye to look at him, curious. 

“Alpha-mandated nap time,” Soap murmured with faux-gravitas, eyes twinkling. “Ghost reinforced.”

You snorted and closed your eye again. “Guess so,” you agreed softly. You felt the couch dip near your feet and someone tugged your shoes off. But you didn’t bother checking this time. Didn’t matter if it was Gaz or John - either way you were safe and warm, and still had a purring cheetah laying on you. 

Really, there was nothing for you to do but relax, soothed to sleep by the gentle rumbling. 

You had no idea how long you slept, but you woke to gentle nudging, and blinked blearily. You were still surrounded by warmth, although Ghost was no longer laying on you. 

“Time to get up,” John murmured, low and rumbling. 

You wrinkled your nose, sitting up slowly. “Time ‘s it?” 

“Almost dinner time.” John gave you a bit of space, watching as you cracked your neck and blinked several times. 

“Right.” You puffed out a breath. Ghost blinked at you from his spot on top of Soap, ears flicking towards you. “If you ever want an alternate career, I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever fallen asleep,” you joked. 

Ghost snorted at you, one paw batting at you, slowly, playfully. He was even being careful of his claws. Aw, he did like you! 

John offered you a hand up to get off the couch, which you accepted. Gaz handed over your shoes, and you left with the two of them, giving Soap and Ghost time. 

Somehow, you were still surprised when the two shifters coordinated to seat you between them. 

At some point, you were going to have a massive freak out about this. You could tell. 

But not today.

You did beg off after dinner, though, going to take a shower and do a bit of actual work. That report wasn’t going to write itself.

Not that you were using work as an excuse not to think about what you wanted. Of course not. You’d never. 

But when your vision blurred and the words ran together on the screen, you finally gave up, pressing your palms against your eyes. 

Maybe you should take a vacation. Maybe you should finish up here and go back to Canada with Logan for a little while. Get some space to clear your head, examine everything objectively. Take some space to decide if this was really a good idea. Logan would let you stay with him, he always did. 

Plus that would give you a chance to get your living situation figured out, since your current apartment was no longer viable. 

You groaned softly, pushing your palms harder into your face. No. No more thinking about this tonight. You needed sleep, not an anxiety spiral. 

Even so, it took you a while to fall asleep, schedule knocked out of whack from the nap earlier and your own stress.

So of course someone pounding on your door far too early in the morning had you jolting out of bed, bleary-eyed, head pounding angrily with the lack of sleep. You yanked the door open, teeth bared, ready to rip a new hole into whoever woke you up.

Only to be rudely pushed past as Logan made his way into your room, uninvited. 

“Get dressed,” he ordered, giving you a quick once over. “We’re going out.”

“Where?” The word was still grouchy but you were already closing the door, aware this was not an argument you would win. 

“Outside.” 

You flashed your teeth at him, thoroughly unimpressed, but got dressed anyway. 

Logan didn’t speak again until the two of you were outside, starting a patrol of the perimeter. It was completely unnecessary, considering this was an active base, but clearly Logan needed it. 

“Are you staying?”

You nearly stopped out of surprise, blinking at him. “What?” 

Logan shot you a look that said all kinds of derogatory things about your intelligence. “He offered you a place here. Are you going to stay?” 

“I don’t–” You sighed, short and sharp. “I haven’t decided.” 

“You’re being stubborn.”

“It’s more complicated than that and you know it.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Is it?” Logan shook his head, steering you along. “You like them. You trust them. You’ve been given an offer to stay.”

“I still have things back home to take care of,” you shot back. “It would make doing my job more difficult. They’re gone I don’t even know how much.” 

“People make it work all the time.” Logan shrugged. “If you want it, you’ll make it work. If you don’t, let ‘em down easy and come back with me.” 

“I was thinking of taking a bit of time off to think about it.”

“Nope.” Logan snorted, shaking his head. “You’ll use the space to procrastinate on making an actual decision and run away.”

You narrowed your eyes at Logan. “Rude,” you growled. But he wasn’t exactly wrong, was the thing. 

"So. Do you want it?" Logan stopped the two of you beside a pond, looking out over the water. He at least gave you a bit of space by not looking at you. 

You blew out a hard breath. Did you want it? Yes. But you didn't know if it was the right call, if it was a good call. You could probably think of a thousand reasons why you shouldn't. 

A hand in your pocket jerked you out of your musings, and you had just enough time to look at Logan in outrage before he shoved you. Hard. 

You shrieked as you fell. Straight into the pond. Cold water enveloped you, briefly filling your mouth until you touched the bottom and failed your way back up to the surface. And spat out the water. 

"FUCK!" You whipped your head around to glare at Logan, dripping and cold. "LOGAN!" 

“It’s a simple yes or no question, kid.” Logan stood above you, your phone safely in his hands.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You started up the bank and out of the pond… only to halt when Logan got in your way.

“No snowbanks here,” he drawled. “You gonna answer the question?” 

“No, I don’t think I will.” You stepped to the side, intending to go around him.

And ended up falling straight back into the water. 

This time, Logan started talking while you were wiping the water from your eyes, ignoring the chill seeping through your skin. 

“They’re not like your foster parents, kid. You know that.”

You froze half-way through trying to climb out. Shouted words and slamming doors echoed in your head, and for a moment you felt very small. Then you shook yourself, lips twisting in a grimace. “I know that,” you spat. “Also, which fucking foster parents?”

“All of them.” Logan tucked your phone in his pocket so he could cross his arms over his chest. “They’re not gonna get sick of you and give up on you, kid.”

Your heart ached at that. The water was looking very tempting again, suddenly. You could just walk away from this absolute train wreck of a conversation. 

“What are you doing?” You looked at Logan, hands clenched into fists to hide the trembling. 

“Knocking you outta your own stubborn head.” Logan kept his gaze steady on you. “I can do this all day, kid.”

And he could. You knew because you’d tested him only once as a teen. 

Guess you were having a conversation about your traumas this morning. 

“You know I’m no good at this.”

“No shit.” Logan snorted. “You never have been.”

You glowered at him. “This kind of shit doesn’t just go away because you keep throwing me in the pond.”

“Nope. Gotta work at it.” Logan finally glanced away from you, smirking. “Figured you’d have some help with that.”

You turned slowly, a horrible sinking feeling in your gut. 

And locked eyes with John.

[fictionalwh0ree]

bodyguard x billie?

tinted windows- billie eilish

summary: you get hired as billie’s bodyguard, but an extreme situation leads to a steamy meeting in her car.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none

billie eilish masterlist | main masterlist

by the age of 20, billie eilish had become one of the most successful people in the music industry, with millions of fans and billions of streams. she posts on social media frequently and loves interacting with her fans. from the outside looking in, she had a perfect life. however, this was not the case. as with any celebrity, she had haters. these haters would spend hours tweeting and commenting terrible things about her, threatenening her, even going so far as to try and find her favourite spots and home address. she had maintaned her home address a secret and although she had to be careful, she had managed to live at home alone safely.

however, this all changed when she received a text message, directly to her phone, listing her home address, her brother’s address and a couple other personal things, topped off with a disgusting hate comment. the one time phone number used was untraceable, leaving billie vulnerable. that’s where you came in.

billie hated the idea of a full-time bodyguard. ‘i don’t need babysitting,’ she would say. she had bodyguards with her when she was at events and concerts and she was fine with that. but at home? she hated the idea. she begged her family to let her move in with them or to just buy another house, but no one budged. so monday morning at 9 am sharp, there was a knock on her door.

from the other side, billie looked at her parents reluctantly but they pushed her to go open it. she pulled open the door, immediately greeted with two tall bulky men dressed in all black. they stepped inside but said no words. once they had moved, you stepped into sight. your hair was down and you wore a tight black tank top with black pants, cinched at the waist by a black belt. you stood firmly, not meant to say anything yet.

unknown to you, billie was shocked. when you walked inside her house she coudn’t help but stare, eyes trailing over your body and thoughts going wild.

“ms. eilish, this is y/n y/l/n, your new full time bodyguard. she is to be with you at all times,” one of the bodguards spoke, voice deep and monotone.

“even when i’m getting dressed? or in the bathroom?” billie said defiantly but jokingly, earning a slap on the arm from her mother and met with absolute silence from the bodyguards.

“we’ll go over some ground rules,” he said finally.

for the next four minuted and seventeen seconds, he droned on and on about the tiny technicalities, the ones that had been ingrained in your memory from training.

“lastly, to the public eye, she is to present herself as your friend. keep it that way,” the bodyguard warned before leaving the house.

billie’s cheeks flushed red as she tried to figure out if it that was procedure to say or if it was that obvious that she found her bodyguard attractive. the more she thought about it, the more she hated herself for it.

god, what a cliche, she said to herself.

you shook hands with her parents, brother and brothers girlfriend before going to billie. you offered her a smile and she returned it, shaking your hand as well. your eyes locked and you held the eye contact, only interrupted by two loud thuds. you turned to see what it was and were met with the face of one of the bodyguards who dropped your two duffel bags on the ground.

billie sprung back to life, offering to grab your bags, but you politely declined, picking them up and waiting for directions.

“here, let me show you your room,” she said.

you nodded politely, following her through the large house, billies dogs at her feet. soon, you arrived in an empty guest bedroom. it wasn’t overly large but was spacious, decorated in a minimalistic and clean way, pops of colour coming from the paintings on the wall and the plants that sat on the dresser and bedside tables.

you set the bags down and billie excused herself, letting you unpack. you put all your clothes and toiletries in place and just as you finished, you heard a knock on the door. you opened the door to see maggie and billie standing there.

“hi,” maggie smiled.

“billie’s going to the grocery store and…” she began, nudging billie and looking at her expectantly.

“well, you need to come… right?” she said awkwardly after clearing her throat, her eyes avoiding yours.

“yes, let me just get dressed,” you answered.

they closed the door again and you changed into a more comfortable outfit. you grabbed a bag before going back down the stairs. you saw billie sitting on the couch

maggie shut the door and you heard their footsteps as they went down the stairs. you changed into a more casual outfit, making yourself look more like someone billie would actually hang around. once you were ready, you went downstairs, spotting billie sitting on the couch. you cleared your throat as you approached her, causing her to jump slightly before getting up to grab her keys. you followed her to her car before getting in the passenger seat. the drive was short and silent, and just as she got out of the car she put a pair of sunglasses on and put her hood up, an attempt at a disguise. you put on your own pair of sunglasses and followed her into the store.

you followed her around the store for about fifteen minutes, watching her check each grocery off her list. the conversation between you two came naturally, but it was mostly small talk as you were trying to keep up the appearance of being friends, despite only having met a couple hours prior. everything was going smoothly, the store was practically empty since it was a tuesday morning. however, everything began to go downhill when you received a call.

you reached into your pocket to pull out the phone that was buzzing incessantly, the call coming from one of the other people working for billies security. he relayed the message that someone had snapped a picture of her and posted it on twitter, a crowd had begun to form outside the store. you let billie finish her groceries, keeping your eye out for anyone who was staring for a little too long. she reached the cash and the cashier began to scan her stuff.

“excuse me,” you said abruptly, your eyes flickering between the middle aged employee and the fast growing crowd of people outside, “can i speak to your manager?”

billie gave you a confused look, clearly not having noticed the fans. she watched you carefully as you explained the situation to the manager, quickly catching onto what was going on. she clicked her tongue and sighed, letting her head fall back in frustration. the manager, who thankfully was very understanding, lead you towards the back door, billie in between the two of you. as you approached the door, the manager smiled and said goodbye. you switched spots with billie so she would be behind you and slowly opened the door. you looked both ways before giving her a slight tug. the two of you stood there for a moment before billie broke the silence.

“how are we supposed to get to my car?” billie asked.

“there’s backup on the way. we just have to wait,” you said.

billie clicked her tongue in annoyance, groaning loudly.

“i’m so tired of this,” she said, “i just wanna get to my fucking house.”

you stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. a moment later she muttered something under her breath.

“fuck this.”

in a second, she started sprinting into the parking lot. you ran straight after her, but she quickly became lost in the sea of people. they had begun to crowd around her, her short stature not helping you. you called her name over and over as you searched the crowd, walking in the direction of her car, but the sound was just blending with that of her fans as they did the same thing.

you remained calm and vigilant. as you looked over the crowd, you finally saw her bright red roots shining through. you got close to her.

“billie,” you shouted.

her eyes shot up in your direction and you could sense the regret, her eyes pleading for help. you reached out to her and she grabbed your hand. the fan that had been closest to her was enraged. her eyes locked with yours and you could see the anger in them, she probably thought you were another fan. you had become competition.

“NO,” she yelled, grabbing billies other arm.

she yanked billie hard towards her, but your grip was tight and you were stronger than her. you gave billie a firm tug back, her arm slipping from the fans grip and sending billie straight into your chest. she wrapped her arms around you, her head hidden. you put an arm around her and lowered your head to her ear.

“give me your keys,” you said.

for a moment, you both stood there, unable to do anything. your free arm was extended outwards, keeping people from getting too close. she handed you her keys, her eyes looking up and locking with yours. a pinkish tint had covered her cheeks and she looked away quickly, accidentally tucking her head right back into your chest. she quickly realized what she had done and her once pink cheeks were now flushed red. her eyes avoided yours at all costs. suddenly, you remembered what you were supposed to be doing. you let your arm fall from her body but grabbed her wrist instead, beginning to walk towards her car. you pushed your way through the crowd, finally reaching the car. you unlocked it and opened the door ever so slightly.

“get in,” you said, still shoving other people away.

you pulled the door open a bit more but someone behind you shoved you in before you had the chance to let her in. you sat in the drivers seat, your hand still holding billies wrist. the crowd was getting more and more rowdy, the people all worried they wouldn’t be getting their photo with the star. you didn’t have time to get out of the car and walk her to the other side so you did the only thing you could. you have billie a hard pull and she almost fell onto the floor, but landed on your lap as well. you slammed the car door shut and locked it. your breathing was laboured and you ran your hands through your hair, your eyes shut as you tried to catch your breath.

your eyes fluttered open seconds later and that’s when you realized billie was still on your lap. her legs were on either side of yours, straddling you. she was looking down at you, you couldn’t avoid her eyes. they held such a different kind of power than they did when she was looking up at you in the crowd. now they looked assertive, dominant. she knew what she wanted. what she wanted was you, and she was ready to do anything to get you.

“billie,” you muttered, only then realizing how close your faces were.

she smiled shyly, leaning in a bit, but not closing the gap. you could feel her lip brushing against yours ever so slightly. you leaned forward hesitantly, kissing her gently, and all you could think was

thank god for tinted windows.

—

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