#when I (temporarily) dropped out of college

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

PART TWO

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction

notes: lmaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago 😭 also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage lmao.

PART ONE | PART THREE

The princess of hell along with her girlfriend was just settling in the guest room heaven provided for them temporarily as they had an important meeting with them.

Charlie and Vaggie stopped talking as their was a knock on their door, “Who do you think is it?” Charlie asked and Vaggie shrugged and Charlie decided to open the door.

There stood a rather tall female angel with three pairs of wings and a golden halo on her head, the short white dress accompanied by gold compliments the woman's figure beautifully.

Safe to say both Charlie and Vaggie were mesmerized, the woman before them was drop dead gorgeous. Though, Vaggie was still cautious, despite a former angel, she doesn't know who this woman is as some seraphim angels tend to not show themselves to the lower ranking aside from Sera.

“Are you Princess Charlotte? The daughter of Lucifer?” the woman asked with her [e/c] eyes sparkling in excitement, the woman quickly placed her hands over her mouth in embarrassment, “Oh! Sorry for the intrusion, I forgot to introduce myself,” she says with a small smile before giving the two girls a curt bow, “My name is [y/n], a seraphim. It's a pleasure to meet you two.”

Charlie gave her a big grin, giving the woman a curt bow. The princess of hell decided to trust her as she couldn't sense any bad intentions from the older woman and to her, the name [y/n] sounded awfully familiar, she just forgot where she had heard it before. “It is so nice to meet you, I am Charlotte but you can call me Charlie.” Charlie said and [y/n] just grinned as Vaggie decided to just watch the two, still cautious. The older woman's eyes landed on Vaggie and she gave her a grin, “And who might you be?” she asked her and Vaggie just glared at her before avoiding her gaze, “Vaggie.”

[Y/n] just grins, her eyes analyzing the gray haired woman before letting out a small hum before shifting her gaze to the princess. [Y/n]'s heart ached a little to see how much the girl looked exactly like her father. [Y/n] misses him, she wished she did something that could have prevented his fall. Regrets always comes last. She took a deep breath then once more wore a bright smile on her face. Charlie noticed the shift of her mood but decided not to question it.

“So Charlie, I came here as I was curious what your plan for hell is about.” [y/n] says softly, she wasn't there during the meeting Lucifer requested for hell and this time, she promised to be there for his daughter instead. Charlie's eyes sparkled excitedly, excited that an angel aside from that bitch ass Adam would finally listen to her. “Really?!” The princess asked excitedly and [y/n] can only let out a soft chuckle, “Of course, why don't we take a walk while you tell me about it? Your friend can join us too.”

Charlie calmed down and gave the older woman a smile, “Vaggie here is actually my girlfriend.” she says, expecting the older woman to judge her but she was surprised when [Y/n] just ruffled her hair. “My apologies, I didn't know.”

The younger girls were surprised, that an angel didn't show any disgust to their relationship and she even looked like she approved.

“Now then, how about that walk?”

“And that's what I'm planning, I wished for my people to find redemption and join heaven.” Charlie explained softly, taking a bite of her strawberry cheesecake. Both [y/n] and Charlie sat in a rather peaceful cafe in heaven, angelic sigils circling around them as [y/n] casted them for their privacy. [Y/n] can only smile as she listens to the younger girl who rambles about her plans for her people, [y/n] can't help but remember how similar Charlie is to her father, oh heavens... She missed him so much.

Vaggie didn't join them unfortunately, she said that she wanted to rest a little bit in the guest room.

[y/n] gracefully placed down the cup of coffee she was sipping and gently wiping her lips with a napkin, “That is truly admirable Charlie, to see you have so much hope for your people really reminds me of your father. I really hope it will come to life.” the compliment was almost enough for Charlie to burst into tears, to hear someone praise her plans and believe in it, it felt like a mother praising her.

Though, she was able to stop her tears as she realizes something. Reminds me of your father. [Y/n] and her dad knew each other.

Then Charlie remembers, the stories her dad told her about heaven and the stories he told her about his closest angel friend—the only one who believed in him. She remembers thinking that she felt her dad loved that angel in one way or another, with how fondly he spoke of her—with so much adoration.

“I remember now, you were my father's best friend!” Charlie gasped, a hand over her mouth and [y/n] can only chuckle, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Were? I still think of him as my best friend.” She chuckles softly, “Though, I don't blame him if he doesn't think the same way as I wasn't able to help him back then.” she continues sadly and Charlie had to wave her arms around to stop her, “Nonono, my father doesn't think like that. You're still his best friend.” Charlie reassured the older woman.

“Really now? How is he these days? I haven't heard from him after so many eons.” [y/n] asked softly with a slight chuckle and Charlie can only sigh with a small smile on her face, “Well... He's still how he usually is. Kind, trying his best for me, and lately he had an obsession with making rubber ducks.” she says with a small giggle making the older woman chuckle, “Thay sounds like him, though surprised that he still loved ducks. He used to ramble to me about random duck facts when he was still here. He was such a dork, I truly missed him.” [y/n] says with a chuckle, a longing look in her eyes.

Charlie was able to put two and two together, her father and this woman loved each other and she can only assume they didn't confess in the fear of ruining their friendship. Charlie loves her parents but a part of her is hoping in a different universe, her father and [y/n] are happy together.

Charlie decided not to mention it to the woman and just continued hanging out with the older woman. “I am sure he misses you too.”

“The meeting will start in a few hours and Charlie?” [y/n] says softly before summoning a wax sealed white envelope out of thin air, gold sparkling from where the envelope is as it slowly falls into her hands. Charlie looked at her in curiosity, “Can I ask you a favor?” [y/n] asked her hesitantly and Charlie just nodded, “Of course!”

“Can I ask you a favor of delivering this letter to Lucifer?” She asked and gently extended her hand towards the younger girl in which the girl accepted the letter and placed it in her chest pocket. “Of course! My father would be delighted to hear from you.”

“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate it dearly.” [y/n] smiled softly as she stood up from her seat, extending her hand to help the hell princess up from her seat. “Now, let me walk you back to your room so you can get ready for your meeting.”

Now the princess of hell wishes the other angels were just as understanding as [y/n]. Even though the meeting didn't go as planned, she felt reassured as both Emily and [y/n] were there in the court room.

“What are we even talkin' about? Some crack-whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot, like the cocks in his mouth. This discussion is senseless and petty.” Lute sneers with an annoyed glare, putting on her mask. Though, Charlie can feel her patience thinning, her eyes glaring at the angels.

The other angels looking down on the scene happening below, [y/n] looking worried for her while glaring at Adam and Lute. “There's no question to be posed, he's unholy, case closed. Did you forget that 'Hell is forever'?” Adam and Lute sang mockingly and [y/n] could feel her anger starting to boil. She always hated Adam, that egoistical prick, she looked up at Sera as if asking her to stop this nonsense.

“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month. Gotta say, I can't wait to—” Adam sang and [y/n] noticed Sera getting worried, “Adam.” Sera says sternly but it seems the man was too busy to hear her, “Come down and exterminate you!”

At that moment, loud ringing was only what [y/n] heard as she was shocked to hear him say that. Exterminate...? Don't tell me...? [Y/n] asked herself before glaring at Sera, the other angels were also shocked by the reveal.

“Wait!” Emily exclaimed, shocked by the reveal and Adam just noticed his slip up, “Shit.”

“What are you saying? Let me get this straight, you go down there and kill those poor souls?” Emily asked, horrified as she slowly flies down towards Charlie, holding her hand, “You didn't know?” Charlie asked and Emily shook her head. “Whoops!” Adam says, not a care in the world, “Guess the cat's out of the bag.” Lute says with a smirk, “What's the big deal?” Adam asked with a condescending smirk and [y/n] wished she could go down there and punch him.

“Sera, tell me that you didn't know...” both Emily and [y/n] asked simultaneously, though, Sera was just looking at Emily. [Y/n] was pissed at this whole revelation, human souls are killed in heaven by the hands that are supposed to be pure holiness. To think about blood staining those hands, fills her with disgust.

The whole courtroom was a mess, [y/n] doesn't remember what exactly happened. The reveal that Vaggie was an angel didn't surprise her, she can sense the girl's angelic blood but the reveal that Sera was the one who ordered for the extermination to happen, filled her with rage.

“Charlie! Don't lose hope! We will find a way to help you!” Emily says as we watched Vaggie and Charlie be sucked by a portal back to hell, “Don't give up! We'll find a way!” [y/n] added, making sure the two girls heard. Sera glared at her and [y/n] glared back.

That's what Charlie last saw, Emily looking worried and disappointed but what worried her was Sera and [y/n] started arguing, angelic powers starting to spark between them and that was the last thing she saw as she returned back in hell. Thankfully, the letter was safe in her pocket.

[loveinhawkins]

When Steve gets to his last year at Hawkins High, it feels like some kind of veil has been lifted right in front him. Or maybe it’s more that the veil’s actually been slowly lifting for years, and he’s noticing it all the more because it’s no longer there.

Either way, when he receives his yearbook, it doesn’t seem like the huge deal that his younger self would’ve made it out to be; he flicks through the pictures half-heartedly, doesn’t even care when the candid ones taken at sporting events catch him in unflattering poses, lip jutting out in concentration.

If he tried to voice his disinterest, Henderson would probably spout off some precocious shit about societal expectations, and Steve would pretend to nod sagely before stealing whatever dorky hat he happened to be wearing—it’s not like he could let the little shit suspect that he occasionally had a point, Steve would never hear the end of it.

The yearbook signings are predictably inescapable: people passing their books back and forth in class or in the cafeteria—and that one’s a risky move, with the threat of drinks spilling on the pages, whether accidental or malicious.

Steve thinks the fever’s dwindled out until he spends a free period in the school library. The seniors typically all bunch together in one of the far corners, the spots with the comfiest seats—loners included, like the perks of age for once outweigh the usual ridicule.

But that silent truce is not exactly being upheld, Steve notes—Eddie Munson is sitting alone at a nearby table.

It becomes painfully obvious when the signing starts up again. There’s a cluster of girls on the yearbook committee who initiate it, and soon every senior in reach is either passing over their own book or signing one.

Almost every senior.

It’s not like Eddie’s the only person ever to be held back. He’s not even the only one to be held back for next year, either: John Nelson off the swim team is in the same position, and he’s still been asked to sign.

But Steve knows that’s not what the source of exclusion is, not really.

He’s gotten good at spotting silent cruelty—good at avoiding it too, before his popularity gave him a temporary shield.

It’s all just bullshit, he thinks. It’s been a recurring thought lately.

He brings out his own yearbook because he knows it’s expected. When it’s finally passed back round to him, he ends up right near the seat opposite Eddie’s, just by chance.

But actually sitting there is his own choice.

He can tell that Eddie has spotted him even though he’s not looked up from whatever homework he’s doing; there’s a silent tension in the way he’s holding his pen.

Steve mulls it over before he asks the question. It could blow up in his face, but what did that matter, really? In the grand scheme of things, it would hardly count as a major embarrassment; it’s not like it’d be any more mortifying than telling his dad that he didn’t get into any colleges whatsoever.

So he pushes his yearbook across the table, because what the hell.

“Wanna sign?”

Eddie glances up. There’s a guarded look in his eyes, and Steve can almost hear him mentally replaying the question.

“Pardon?” Eddie says with pointed emphasis, like he’s daring Steve, let it drop and we’ll say no more about it, Harrington.

Steve doesn’t take it back. He shrugs and flicks open the yearbook, finds a blank spot and taps it once with his finger, a silent offer.

Eddie stares like Steve’s a riddle, like he’s wondering just who the show’s for—but the other students have turned away, have gone back to their seats, yearbooks temporarily forgotten.

Eddie’s hold on his pen relaxes, ever so slightly.

“You sure, Harrington?” he says. There’s still a wary edge to his voice, but there’s an undercurrent of something else, too, like he’s secretly amused despite himself. “Haven’t you heard what folks say? I could curse you.”

Steve scoffs. “That all you’ve got? I’ve dealt with way worse, man,” he says mildly.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a surprised smile. Then it’s gone almost like it had never been in the first place, his gaze turning thoughtful rather than defensive.

And obviously this isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo at the whole senior year thing. Steve wonders if there’s a veil that’s been lifted for him too, wonders if he can see straight through it right now.

The bell rings.

Eddie stands up, gathering his stuff.

Steve thinks that’s the end of it: something that’s neither a success or a failure.

But then, lightning fast, Eddie darts across the table and scribbles something on the open page. Slams the yearbook shut and pushes it back over, and it feels like a challenge, like some of his caginess is back—like he’s just daring Steve to reveal that it had been a joke all along—

“Bet you’re counting down the days till you can hold your own copy, huh?” Steve says dryly, as he stuffs the book into his bag.

It’s a risk; he knows Eddie could easily take it as pure ridicule, could misinterpret it as Steve throwing the failed school years back in his face.

Eddie just shakes his head, but he could be laughing—the moment’s gone too quickly for Steve to know for sure.

“Nah, Harrington,” Eddie says easily, thrown over his shoulder as he leaves, “those things aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.”

Steve doesn’t check the yearbook until he’s home. He eventually finds Eddie’s signature, simple black ink right in the upper corner of one page.

Good luck, Steve. —Eddie

Some of the letters are bunched a little too close together, drifting upwards on the blank page, as if they usually need lined paper to guide them—left-handed, Steve thinks vaguely.

Within a sea of scrawled nicknames and loudly enthusiastic messages, Steve finds that he kind of likes how mundane Eddie’s truly is. Likes the sign off with minimal fuss. Just “Eddie.” Likes how he was just “Steve”, too.

And yeah, if anyone needed to be told good luck, Steve thinks, with the kind of amusement that only comes from distance—pictures his past self, freaking out about monsters come to life.

He slots the yearbook into his bookcase. By summer he might forget about it altogether, left to gather dust as he works for 3 bucks an hour, but for now he marks its significance: something real, hidden alongside the bullshit.

[jordiemeow]

CHALLENGERS ANNIVERSARY BOT RELEASE ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

04/05/25

happy terribly late challengersversary!! and thank u for 1k followers that's insane i adore u all. crazy to me how fun of a place this has become and i can’t believe it’s been an entire year since the movie came out omg. shoutout to tashi duncan for bringing us all together to fujo out like this. yeah x10!!

also dropped the android bots temporarily bc i know a few people got reqs for them for this release! they'll be out in the future but i wanna make a tashi one too so i can post them all at once :) as usual all bots are gender neutral unless specified otherwise.

enjoy! <3

ART TASHI PATRICK

ATP art x tashi x patrick x user

One coach is strenuous enough. Two gives you a headache. But three people barking orders at you for hours every day… it's enough to drive any sane person crazy. Especially when your coaches are known to get a little more... handsy, than what should really be appropriate.

ART AND PATRICK

THREE'S A CROWD art x patrick x user

Three's a crowd. or, at least, it should be. The three of you are thick as thieves—both your boyfriends, and each other's best friends. But you see the way they look at each other, the way they get a little too lost in each other when you're all tangled up in bed together. They aren't as discreet as they think they are. Your poor little repressed white boys.

UNOFFICIAL THIRD art x patrick x user

Moving into a rural town with no stable job probably wasn't the smartest decision you've ever made. But two of the local farmers are friendly enough to offer you a job helping around their farm. Two boyfriends, Art and Patrick, who seem just a little too keen to keep you around for a monogamous couple.

TRUTH OR DARE art x patrick x user

It's always Patrick, isn't it? None of you are surprised when he proposes a game of truth or dare the summer before college starts, sitting out in the sand in front of his parent's beach house. Aow bad could it possibly go? (Spoiler: very.)

ART DONALDSON

KIDS HAVING KIDS art donaldson x user (m4f)

Meeting Art in your freshman year of college was great. He had the potential to be a perfect boyfriend—you just never expected it all to happen so quickly. Fast forward to two years later and the pair of you are juggling an unplanned baby, your future careers, and enough homework to drown in. at least you have each other.

ALTAR BOY art donaldson x user

Art's a good Christian boy. Says his prayers before bed every night, serves as his father's altar boy when he's preaching, and wears his purity ring as if it's a physical part of him. Which is why he feels real guilty about all the thoughts his brain is conjuring up about the new kid in town. And against his better judgement, he finds himself seeking you out more and more.

IMPOTENT art donaldson x user

It's embarrassing. Thirty-two years old and he struggles to get it up. Patrick says it's normal for a man of his lifestyle, but he knows he's just saying that to make him feel better. And with you, his young new partner, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He can't just keep making excuses when you try to take it further; one man only needs to run to the bathroom so much. Maybe it's time to finally come clean.

MERYTON BALL art donaldson x user (m4f)

When your mother mentions a new young man moving into netherfield park, you don't think too much of it. An eligible bachelor that all the girls will be swarming to at the first event he shows his face at, no doubt. But the man in question, Art Donaldson, seems to take a shine to you, and you can't possible turn down such a sweet, bashful smile.

SLIP OF THE TONGUE art donaldson x user (m4f)

Well, this is very awkward. In the heat of the moment, with you perched atop him and your bodies slick with sweat, Art accidentally let the word mommy slip. He's never been so mortified in his life; it's never a term you've discussed using, and the surprise on your face was clear. Embarrassed, he takes to avoiding you after that—but you're his girlfriend. He can't ignore you forever.

JUST A TRIM art donaldson x user

Just a trim. That's what you said when you plucked the pair of hair scissors out of your bag and made your husband sit down at your kitchen table with a towel draped over his shoulders. But, as you run your fingers through his curls, you can't help but think how handsome he'd look with his hair cut a little shorter. How much more mature he'd look without those boyish ringlets.

TRINKETS art donaldson x user

Art normally keeps to himself—he's accidentally lured more than a few pure souls to their demise with his siren song over the course of his life. Now, he watches from afar, transfixed by the humans along the shore that come to swim or play in the rock pools. When you move into one of the houses by the shore, he thinks you're absolutely wonderful. He's too shy to talk to you, of course, but that doesn't stop him from leaving little gifts for you: trinkets he's discovered from sunken ships or on the ocean bed. And then one night the moonlight emboldens him enough to find you on the shore.

PATRICK ZWEIG

BOY DAD patrick zweig x user (m4f)

Your baby daddy is a real pain. The kind that doesn't even bat an eye when your son comes home saying swear words after the spending the weekend with him, and texts you to confirm details he should know about his five-year-old. At the end of the day, though, your kid loves him. Maybe you still love him, too.

DESK CLUMP patrick zweig x user

Once upon a time, Patrick Zweig was destined for greatness. Now, in his mid-twenties, he's found himself working a shitty desk job for a sales company he couldn't care less about. Amidst all the dullness and depression of the modern office, at least he has you to make him feel better about himself. That one weird co-worker who he shares a desk clump with and looks considerably more miserable than him. Plus, you're kinda cute.

GIRL DAD patrick zweig x user (m4f)

When you told your friends you were pregnant, they weren't sure whether to congratulate you or pat you on the back and tell you everything would work out. "Are you sure?" Your mother had asked, when you delivered the news. But despite everyone's doubts about the father, Patrick has proven himself; he's settled down, and after years of being alone, he has a family to come home to. Doesn't mean he isn't still the same idiot you fell in love with.

NUISANCE patrick zweig x user

One of your roommates is a total nuisance. Art is clean enough, but Patrick is a slob. Probably because he grew up with a maid to clean after his ass and Art to keep their room tidy enough for inspections at the Academy... he also has no sense of space and just never leaves you the fuck alone.

WEIRDO patrick zweig x user

Patrick isn't really sure what it is about you. Maybe it's the fact that you don't care about putting up an image to impress him. Maybe it's the way you look adorable with your glasses on and your nose in a book. Either way, he's just completely smitten with you. You're a weirdo... but you're his weirdo.

SINGLE MOTHER patrick zweig x user (m4f)

The moment you brought up having a toddler, Patrick should have booked it. He was sorely tempted, mind you—it's a lot of commitment getting involved with a woman that already has a kid. He's never been the settling down type in the first place. But he really likes you, and after being introduced to your son, he realises he likes him too. Ugh. What a predicament.

TASHI DUNCAN

WHO WOULDN'T BE? tashi duncan x user

Is it a little snaky of you? Yeah, probably. But Patrick just isn't good enough for her! you tell yourself you're doing her a favour. As her best friend, it's your job to steer her away from her asshole of a boyfriend, even if that involves telling a few white lies.

SOLAR POWER tashi duncan x user

Tashi doesn't really get much time to just relax. If she isn't playing tennis, she's at press conferences or sponsorship meetings. She's the most hard-working person you know, especially at her age. So you're a little surprised when she suggests a trip to the beach... but there's no way you're turning down seeing her all chilled out in a bikini.

TUTORIAL tashi duncan x user

When you start seeing Art, your lack of experience doesn't even cross your mind. He seems like an innocent enough guy to you, after all. But when your best friend keeps telling you stories patrick has passed out about all the people art has been with at the academy, maybe you get a little insecure. And maybe you've been whining about it to Tashi for the last few weeks. So, eventually, she caves—she can teach you a few things. It's not as if her boyfriend will mind. He'll just be mad he isn't there to watch.

SUNSHINE tashi duncan x user

After her injury, Tashi was miserable. The first few weeks of working with her, she was cold and snappy, the opposite of your warm smiles and encouraging words. Barely said a word to you unless it was to tell you she was fine or to fuck off. But she's taking it out on the wrong person. You're only trying to help, after all—it's your job. So eventually she warms up to you, and the hostile greetings eventually turn into smiles and coffee placed on your desk before you begin her sessions. She's still a little moody sometimes, though.

COVER GIRL tashi duncan x user

The name 'Tashi Duncan' is quickly becoming known by everyone in the modelling world. Dhe's been on the cover of Vogue, inspired a whole new Chanel collection. With her face on half the billboards in the country, she doesn't have the time to be answering calls and sending emails, so she takes on an assistant: you. The job pays well, and it's a good way into the industry, but... she's a lot more of a brat than you were expecting when you took the job.

taglist: @tacobacoyeet @blastzachilles @gracelynnx @femme-lusts @voidsuites @cha11engers @magicalmiserybore @m4lodr4ma @newrochellechallenger2019 @coolgrl111 @peachyparkerr @stanart4clearskin @misswrldd @kaalxpsia @downtwngrl @pittsick @strfallz @artspats @dazedandconfusedlvr @turnerrst @elsieblogs

[amaranthineghost]

NOW IM BACK IN OUR EMPTY APARTMENT, LOOKING AT THE PIECES I WISH WERE YOU ( max verstappen. )

max verstappen x reader

an imperfect relationship between world champion max verstappen and a busy college student now filled with more tension as he fails to hold his tongue after a disappointing race.

authors note: love writing for max, i might have to do it more!!!

HE DIDN'T MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. it snowballed into something he had imagined before but never would've expected it actually happening to him. he could normally control his temper, especially when it came to her. sure, there was a few moments that stood out in his career when he had gone over the limit on certain occasions, going as far as to push another driver, but he would always separate his home life and his career.

at least he would try to. the australian grand prix hadn't played out like he had wanted, or anyone for that matter, because no one wants their car to get fucked and have to retire. especially on the third lap, it was just embarrassing. he was struggling the entire weekend, though his spirits temporarily lifted when he had managed to get pole position. he knew he would, but after the struggles throughout the practice sessions, he hadn't been too sure.

he just wished she would've been there to see it, but she was stuck in their apartment with their cats, jimmy and sassy. she had to do her college work, that was due all too soon, before she could go running around to his races. despite being financially supported by her talented boyfriend, she wanted things to do when he wasn't around, and while school work wasn't exactly many people's cup of tea, it was hers.

she liked the possibilities that came with the experience and maybe one day, she could land a job that would put her in line with her beloved driver. sure, she loved visiting the paddock as a wag, but she would love it more from behind the scenes. of course dating a driver, she already gets to see more than the average person, but she wanted to do something worthwhile with her time in the paddock.

he understood, but he had the only condition of letting him pay for her schooling. debt wasn't fun, and he wouldn't let her fall into that burden. besides, max would love to be able to see his girl working hard in the paddock, but now he wasn‘t so sure if she was his anymore.

he was agitated, she was stressed, and they both knew they didn't mix. they should’ve just waited to see each other in person, but they were both missing each other at the time.

she watched the race on the tv in their bedroom with her laptop on her lap with her latest, big assignment due in the next few days. she was struggling, and she figured it was better to get as much time to work on it as possible so she opted out of flying to australia. still, she watched, hardly stressed, because she knew max was an amazing driver.

but come the race on sunday, his dnf shocked her. she was riddled with worry and part of her wished she had been there. maybe if she had been, this whole thing could’ve been avoided, but the stress she felt now would’ve only worsened had she been with him.

upon the smoke trailing out of his car, hearing the commentators say he had dropped positions, seeing the puff of smoke when his car rolled down the pit lane, the fire on his brake duct, she shut her laptop instantly. now she was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing the screen closely, phone on standby to call him after. she leaned her head on her hands while her elbows dug into her legs.

she watched his tense answers to the media, his uninterested attitude because she knew all he wanted to do was get to his driver's room for peace and sulking. she knew and yet she still made the mistake of calling him right after.

she hadn’t waited long for him to answer, but he didn’t answer right away. hearing no answer from his side of the phone, she spoke first.

“hey,” she spoke as gently and nicely as she could.

“hey.” his voice was short and straightforward, as if he didn’t care about anything she was going to say.

finding the right words to say was like walking on eggshells and there wasn't a lot of room to go. she just hoped she took a step in the right direction when she asked him, “how are you doing?”

“what do you think?” she sighed, biting at the inside of her cheek

“not great,” she muttered, he hummed back in response, which just made her even more unsure of her next words, “ ‘m sorry you has to retire from the race.”

“sorry doesn’t fix the car,” she heard him mumble under his breath, earning a scoff from her.

“excuse me?” her tone was like she had accused him of something, “i get you’re mad right now max, but that doesn’t mean you can be an asshole. i’m just trying to help.”

he scoffed back and she could feel the eye roll he would’ve given her, “yeah, well you're not.”

“what is wrong with you?” she stood up, anger coursing through her.

“i don’t know, maybe the fact that my race was fucked and now you’re bitching to me about my attitude.”

she hadn’t thought before speaking, in moments of high stress she just said whatever she felt, and so did he. what she felt right now was annoyance and anger, “fuck you max,” was all she could spit back, taking a deep breath being speaking again. “news flash, you’re not the only person in the world dealing with shit, it's one race that you got out on, grow up.”

with that she hung up, and he heard the dial tone from his phone, regret beginning to seep past his clothes and into his skin, his nerves, his brain. he just majorly fucked up the most important thing in his life because to him she was more important than his career points, the car, the championship, his entire career, and he just threw her aside in the height of his anger.

he tried calling back immediately after he realized what he had just done, but it had just gone straight to voicemail. when that all failed, he spammed texts, or paragraphs more like, about how sorry he was and how she didn’t deserve the attitude he gave her, but it did nothing.

she sat and watched as the texts and missed calls flooded in. while she understood he was angry, it didn’t give him the right to talk to her like that so she left her phone unanswered while she had gotten up to pack. in less than a few hours, she knew max would be back in this apartment, probably on his knees, begging for forgiveness from her. she knew she would forgive him the moment he did so she wanted to get away before he could.

it didn’t take long, she hadn’t packed her entire life away, but a single suitcase and carry-on bag was enough to last her until she decided to patch things over. taking one last look over her shoulder, one last pet of their cats before she had closed the door behind her. knocking on the apartment door of their neighbors to ask them to care for the felines like they did whenever he left for races and she went alongside him.

but in recent months, moreso in the 2023 season, she found herself attending fewer races than she used to because of the growing tension and stress between the pair. it didn't help that they didn't talk it through, they couldn't because they didn't have the time. she had college, he had formula one, and they both had no time to meet in the middle to amend whatever was broken before. whatever was broken remained as such and only cracked further as time went on and the pressure increased.

they knew they should've come together and met in the middle, but they were both petty and too stubborn. it was another reason they clashed, but they also just worked so well.

he was hoping this was going to be the one time they could've found that time to talk, to sit down and have a deep conversation that lasted hours, that they would've ended up getting side-tracked from and begun to talk about random topics, like they used to. laying on her back with her head in his lap and his fingers through her hair as they laughed at funny memories, or moments they had experienced together.

but when he came home to a quiet, empty apartment, he knew. he knew he shouldn't have hoped for something that was unlikely to happen. his cats rubbed against his legs as he walked about the apartment. dirty dishes that had yet to be washed sitting in the sink, blankets unfolded in the couch and doors left open. the air was stale without her presence and he was left to wallow in it. her absence was a sting against his skin as he kicked off his shoes, seeing a couple pairs less than what there usually was, hanging up his coat alone because hers were now gone.

everything was a reminder if how he had treated her, the words he spat like venom all because he had retired from a single race. he can't stop hearing her venomous last words to him, her tone was like he was the scum on the bottom of her shoe. he might’ve well have been because he sure felt like he was. a piece of trash for the way he spoke, granted he was angry, but he didn't have the right, he never would have the right to talk to her like that.

the floorboards creaked under him, cutting through the silence only interrupted by the sounds of his clothes brushing together as he walked. he peered into the various rooms of the house, seeing half the items she would normally have that had been left behind. pieces of her he was left to further sulk with.

it was cruel, but he understood cruel was what he deserved. he deserved seeing the messy, unmade bed that remained empty for hours after she left. covers pulled back like she had just gotten up to see him, except she hadn't.

she was gone, and he hadn't known where, or if she would even come back. he could only hope that she wished to mend their cracked and shattered relationship as much as he wanted now.

he could only hope.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @thearchieves

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[m4iya]

⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚 Order up! Apple green tea, 50% sugar, 100% ice with black pearls and basil seeds for @sunnyskiezzzz!

Rekindled Suna Rintaro (fluff, drama, mutual pining, post high school)

Looking in the mirror one more time before leaving home, you applied an extra layer of lip gloss. Volleyball wasn't exactly your thing anymore, but seeing as some friends from your college days had invited you to a game, you figured you'd at least go and hang out with them.

Though one thing had been worrying you lately; one of the boys in your social circle had been a pretty clingy for a while now. You'd dropped hints multiple times that you weren't interested, but it didn't seem that he was getting the memo. The same boy had insisted that he should come as well, since it was a 'group' type of thing, or whatever he meant. You tried to give your friends an excuse so they'd understand that you were uncomfortable, but they didn't seem to get the memo either. You could hardly call them friends, but without them, you knew you'd be alone.

As you caught a train to the venue, you couldn't shake the sense of nostalgia that overcame you.

When you think of volleyball, your thoughts drift to a particular time in your life where you were somewhat involved with it. A close friend that you had in high school was on the volleyball team, and you'd watch his games sometimes. You learnt the rules, positions and local teams all so you could have something to talk to him about. He was somebody who didn't leave your side for the span of those three short years, and you often wonder why that was.

Though, things never progressed further than that. It seemed that sports took up a lot of his time, and you drifted apart after graduating high school. At times like these, you think of him and wonder if he ever does the same.

The venue was completely packed. You found your friends standing near the entrance, waving at you. Next to them were the guys, with the clingy boy standing out like a sore thumb. Ignoring him as he tried to catch your attention, you greeted your friends and walked inside. They led you to the stands where you were frustratingly seated right next to the person you least wanted to be around.

Ignoring him as he spoke incessantly, you watched the players walk onto the court and warm up for the match, barely being able to focus on the introductions of each team due to the irritating voice beside you. Looking over at your friend, you attempted to catch her attention to ask her to swap seats, but she was too occupied with recording the players on her phone, squealing each time they glanced ever so slightly in her direction.

So you sat there through the entirety of the two hour game, wondering if someone would spike the ball far enough and temporarily silence the guy next to you.

As soon as the match ended, you stood up to take your leave, wondering why you showed up in the first place. Though you underestimated how congested the crowds would be, as it took you much longer to leave the stands than you expected.

However, it seemed that you disassociated a little too much, as by the time the sound died down, you were met with a shocking sight.

"Phew, took us a while to get some alone time, am I right?"

Why on earth was he following you? And what makes him think you'd want to be anywhere near him? Whats worse was that he was inching closer to you, looking as though he was trying to tell you something that you definitely didn't want to hear.

"Hey, listen.. I.."

"I'm actually really busy, I've got tons of exams coming up and I need to get home." You blurted, chuckling nervously as you power walked through the hallway. The amount of people around was becoming scarcer, and he didn't seem to be backing away - panic took over.

"Where are you going!?" His voice suddenly grew louder, his hand locking around your wrist.

"Let go of me!" Before you knew it, you were shoved up against the wall, his puckered lips moving closer towards your face. You pushed his shoulders back with all the force you could muster, yet he wouldn't budge.

Just when his sweaty face was mere inches from yours, an obviously forced cough sounded from behind him.

The boy froze in place immediately, whipping his head around to see who it was. To his horror, one of the players from the earlier match had his phone held out, camera pointed towards him.

"Do you know her?" He bluntly asked, his phone still recording. You couldn't shake the feeling that the voice seemed familiar.

"Y-yes! Yes I do! We're college friends!" Stumbling on his words, he stood in front of you in an attempt to hide your face from his view.

"Isn't it weird for a friend to scream 'let go of me'?"

Having been caught out, he clicked his tongue, murmuring a few things before storming off without even attempting to clear his case.

You sighed, fanning your face in an attempt to cool down from whatever had just happened.

Though it seemed that wasn't the last shock you'd be met with today. You caught your breath, only to feel it hitch again as you saw the face of the boy standing in front of you.

"Suna..?" His name left your mouth immediately, zero unfamiliarity with it as though you'd been calling it every day since the two of you met.

You weren't the only person who was utterly shocked. His eyes widened as you spoke his name, taking slow steps towards you to confirm.

"Hold on.. You look completely different." He spoke, a light chuckle trailing beside his words.

"I could say the same for you.." Nervously replying, you were suddenly overly conscious of your appearance, fiddling with the fabric of your skirt and adjusting the strap of your handbag.

"How long has it been?"

"..Around seven years."

He sighed, sliding his phone into the pocket of his uniform jacket. "It's seriously been that long?" He paused for a moment, a smile appearing on his face. "I still remember how much we'd talk. You weren't actually ever into Volleyball, were you?"

"You caught me." Embarrassed, you felt your cheeks warm up. Things didn't seem as tense as you'd imagined they might've been.

"So you did that for me?"

You always wondered how he was able to say such embarrassing things with a straight face. You never recalled a moment where he stumbled on his words or even blushed a little - always so straight forward. It made you wonder what stopped him from telling you more about himself - about what he thought of you.

Nodding your head, your eyes struggled to meet his. He didn't reply, though you felt him slump onto the wall beside you.

You were way less reserved now than you were back in high school. Seeing him today was the last thing you imagined would happen. Now that you had him beside you again, you wondered what it'd be like if you were the blunt one this time around.

"Hey.." You spoke up, voice shaky. "Did you ever, you know.." You struggled to say the words, to ask how he really felt about you after all these years. Memories paced through your mind, recalling the days you spent together, seemingly growing closer over time only for it to come to a halt after graduation. Or so you thought.

"Yeah, I did."

His voice was smaller than usual, seemingly being cautious of his tone. Your head tilted towards him, wondering if he realised what he had said.

"And I still do." He added, affirming that he understood what it implied. He chuckled, rubbing his neck - uncharacteristically embarrassed. "Only took me seven years, right?"

You couldn't help giggle, holding your stomach as it shifted into laughter. "I never would've pictured you of all people - acting all shy!"

"Cut it out.." He joked, eventually laughing alongside you. The two of you moved to sit down on a bench nearby, catching up on various things that you'd missed over the years.

"So, how was I on the court?"

You were too embarrassed to admit that you, 1, didn't notice he was there, and 2, was preoccupied with zoning out the annoying chatter from the boy clinging to you. "I'm assuming you, uh.."

"Did you even watch the match?"

"Not really.."

Sighing, he leaned his head against the wall. "Thats fine. I get a few free tickets anyways. You wouldn't miss my games, right?"

"Not again." You weren't really into volleyball, you knew that for sure. But being able to keep your eyes on him for the entirety of the match, watching him do something he'd been into since high school..

You could get used to that.

extra:

One after the other, you’d attend his games as a regular spectator from the stands. No one else knew about you, and he decided to keep it that way.

After a particular match, you made your way to the sidelines where he and his teammates were signing merchandise for the attendees. As soon as he noticed you, he turned his head down to the jersey he was signing in embarrassment of what you might say. Noticing this, his teammates tapped his shoulder; you were waiting after all!

“How long are you going to keep her standing there?” They teased.

He sighed, finishing off what he was doing and looking towards you.

“Can I get a picture?” You ‘timidly’ asked, holding your phone out to him.

“Fine.”

He held the phone upwards and slung his arm around your waist. You could feel the gazes of onlookers as he snapped the picture, wondering who you were. Once you left, other people came forward asking for photos as well, but he had already slipped away into the changing rooms. The two of you had plans after all.

from my 100 followers event ✩ other works

[skyfallscotland]

Professor Riorson (Remi's Version)

"Remi for once can you please—" "Be an attentive student?" I widen my eyes. "Pay attention in class?" I just my lower lip out. "Of course!" My lips curve up. "I'm so excited to have a new teacher, Vi."

Hello! After what we shall henceforth refer to as the Onyx Storm Incident, I did not know if I would ever write for this fandom again (yes, that was three days ago, I know, shut up).

Anyway, I figured I should try and push through my reservations early instead of letting my disappointment linger, so I set out to write a little palette cleanser. As usual I tried to write smut and ended up with four thousand words of feelings first 🤦🏼‍♀️

This is set in some sort of alternate (completely unbelievable) universe where Xaden never gave in to Remi's flirting when she was a first-year at Basgiath (oh and he's not a venin) everything else is irrelevant, just go with it.

It's also basically straight up erotica, so explicit content! Not for minors! Minors DNI or whatever the fuck they say over here (I really should be posting all these on AO3, but that's for another day).

Finally, I'm sorry to all the teachers out there, I hate this kink too but it's minimally emphasised (they're still them) and it was what my girl Remi deserved—why should Violet get Professor Riorson and not her, the Queen of Tyrrendor, the Angel of Death? So here we are.

PS. Justice for chairs! Hopefully you can all visualise what's going on here 😂🪑

Professor Riorson (Remi's Version)

Fraternisation between cadets and those serving in higher chains of command, including the aggregate leadership cadré at Basgiath War College, is strictly forbidden. —Article Eight, Section One, The Dragon Rider’s Codex

I tap my foot against the floor, levitating my pen above my hand almost subconsciously as Professor Devera informs the rest of the cadets just how fucked we actually are. "Welcome to the new face of battle, where we are not only outnumbered in the sky but now equally matched on the field in terms of the skill of our opponents."

Equally matched? We're not equally matched, we're absolutely fucked. It's hard to find the energy to care anymore, knowing what awaits us. Maybe if I had a signet like Violet's, I would be in with half a chance at survival, but mending? Yeah. I'm screwed.

Heads drop in the rows ahead of us, like everyone else is reaching the same conclusion.

"With that in mind, the nature of challenges will change under the supervision of Professor Emetterio to include wielding in order to better prepare you for actual combat. Death is no longer an acceptable outcome when you face your classmates. The days of settling your scores on the mat are over. We need each and every one of you to survive to graduation.”

I scoff aloud, drawing more than one person's attention. Death should never have been acceptable. The military, the system gains nothing from it, it's just a senseless waste of life.

“Easy to say when you’re not facing Sorrengail,” Caroline Ashton calls out.

My lips tilt up. I hope she ends up facing my sister.

“We aren’t going to throw you to the wolves,” Devera tells her. “The third class you’ll be adding will be a hands-on approach to prepare you for signet-against-signet combat. You’ll have a rotating roster of professors to benefit from all signet types, and the Eastern Wing has temporarily loaned us their most powerful rider to start your instruction.”

Violet stiffens beside me and I frown, glancing over at her. The Eastern Wing…wouldn't that mean…

“And on that note.” Devera gestures to the door at the back of the room, and slowly, I turn. “Look who just arrived—everyone, welcome our newest member of your leadership team. Professor Riorson.”

My heart skips a beat and my lips begin to curve into the most self-satisfied smirk I've worn in a while. This is going to be fun.

Friday comes far too slowly for my liking, but finally it's our turn to head out to the Infantry Quadrant's outdoor amphitheatre. There's a skip in my step as we descend the stairs and Violet groans, eyeing me with disapproval.

"Remi for once can you please—"

"Be an attentive student?" I widen my eyes. "Pay attention in class?" I just my lower lip out. "Of course!" My lips curve up. "I'm so excited to have a new teacher, Vi."

Ridoc snorts, bumping me with his hip as he passes.

I glance up from my feet, taking in the man standing dead centre in the base of the amphitheatre, his impatience clear. His arms are crossed over his chest and his usual dark stare is ever-present as he watches us, waiting.

"This is incredible." Sloane is saying ahead of us, commenting on the weather and the temperature inside the amphitheatre's wards. It is warm in here and as Professor Riorson's eyes dart up to lock with mine, I shrug my arms out of my flight jacket. My pulse jumps at his continued attention and slowly I shake the snow from my braid.

"You're right, Sloane." I smile, running my hand over my hair. "It's so warm in here." I reach for the bottom of my shirt and draw that up too, pulling it over my head to leave me in just my leather pants and armoured corset.

"Remi!" Violet hisses and I smile innocently.

"What?" I lift a brow. "You don't want me to pass out, do you Vi?" She grumbles something about knocking me out, which I promptly ignore, dropping my things in the first row of stone seats beside our classmates.

If there's one thing my sister has always hated, it's my infatuation with Xaden Riorson. I suppose that's fair, given she shares a mind with him at times, but it does nothing to discourage me. If I see something I want, I go after it and I've wanted Xaden Riorson ever since I first laid eyes on him all those years ago at parapet.

Too bad he doesn't want me just as badly.

“Welcome to your first session of Signet Sparring, in what I like to call the pit.” He announces as we reach the base of the steps.

"Ominous." I mutter.

“Those who can wield, keep your feet on the rock but—and I cannot stress this enough—off the mat. Those who cannot, take a seat in the first row.” He gestures to the terraced stone behind us.

I assume it has something to do with the warding, so when Aaric and Lynx move to take a seat in the rows behind, I stand to follow.

"Remi Sorrengail!" Riorson calls. "I know you can wield."

I pause, turning slightly to arch a brow. "My signet is neither offensive nor defensive, sir." The slightest, most minuscule twitch jolts his shoulders at the word and I show him my teeth. "You wouldn't want me to get hurt, would you?"

An ember of desire flickers to life in my gut and I bite my lip, letting my eyes drag over him slowly from head to toe. The tight-fitting sparring gear is reminiscent of what he always wore in the quadrant when he was our wingleader, but the swords strapped across his back…they really add to it. It's doing something for me. A lot for me.

"I'll make sure you don't get hurt, Cadet Sorrengail." He reassures. "Take a seat. Now."

I hold his gaze for a moment, wishing he could read my mind and understand exactly what that tone is doing for me. For a second his eyes flare and then it's gone; his stony, unaffected mask falling back into place as he gestures to the first row where my sister waits.

"Whatever you say, sir." I simper, flopping down onto the stone.

"Sickening." Imogen mutters, rolling her eyes from my other side, and I grin. She's never liked my obsession with him either.

First wing begin to filter in, taking their places on the adjacent seating and Riorson's eyes dart left, then right. “Let’s go. It shouldn’t be this hard to sort yourselves out."

"You can sort me out—" All the breath rushes out of me in a wheeze as Imogen's elbow plants itself in my gut. "Ok." I cough, "understood." Violet stifles a laugh.

“You done gossiping among yourselves?” Riorson eyes First Wing with what I'd classify as menace.

“We were just saying that we’re not sure someone who graduated less than a year ago makes the best teacher.” Loran Yashil folds his arms.

I laugh aloud, drawing the attention of everyone in the amphitheatre. "Because you've been doing so well with Carr." I comment. "How many dark wielders do you think he's fought? Hiding back here behind the wards like a coward?"

"Remi!" Violet groans, though the chastisement holds no sting—I know she agrees with me.

What follows is perhaps the hottest display of power and dominance I've seen in a long while. He barely lifts a finger taking the third-year down and then proceeds to do it all over again…and again, and again until there's no one left but my sister and I.

"Sorrengail, you're up!"

Violet and I glance at each other and she lifts a brow. I wiggle mine in return. Quickly, we both leap to our feet and stride onto the mat.

"I meant—"

"You should have specified then." I cut him off, drawing my daggers from my corset.

"I didn't speak in plural." He all but rolls his eyes.

"Well that's just cheating, you can't both—"

I throw my blade to the side, never once breaking eye contact with Riorson. "Shut up, Caroline!" I call. Who asked her anyway?

Drawing another dagger to replace the one I'd thrown, I let my hips sway as I stride down the centre of the mat, coming to a stop directly in front of him. "If you're too afraid to fight us both, just say Professor." I taunt. "I don't mind if you want to have our session one on one."

He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, a muscle in his jaw feathering slightly. "You're infuriating." He murmurs.

"I think you like it." I whisper, tongue darting out to wet my lips, and the ground rumbles. Lightning strikes overhead and he drags his eyes up from my lips, locking gazes with me as shadows rush out, blacking out the area entirely.

"Fuck." I mutter, taking a step back, entirely blind. I take another and another until I run clear into a hard chest and an arm brackets my middle from behind.

"What was the point of this, Sorrengail?" He asks. "If I were venin, you'd be dead right now."

"You're not venin." I counter breathlessly. "If you were, the distraction wouldn't have worked."

"The—"

Boom.

Lightning strikes mere centimetres to his left, shaking the ground, lighting up the arena. I tear myself free from his hold, ignoring the shadows that chase me, caressing my hair, my cheek—and grin slyly. "We win." I smirk as sunlight filters back through. "You'd be dead if she wanted you dead."

He frowns, like the idea of it is ludicrous. "You'd be dead. You would have died before me."

I shrug my shoulders. "And she'd be alive." I tilt my head. "Like I said. We win."

With that I turn and walk away.

"You really need to give it a rest." Violet sighs as she slings her pack over her shoulders, prepared to head down to Chantara with the others. "Remi, I'm…worried about you."

I huff, folding my arms over my chest. "Worried?"

"Worried." She confirms. "It's not healthy to go chasing after someone like this. He's not capable of loving you. There are plenty of people who—"

"Who said anything about love?" I interrupt. "I never said I wanted him to love me."

Violet looks at the ceiling like she's praying to Amari for patience. "You're you." She finally says softly, reaching out to take my hand. "I know you. You want love—and I know him—he's not capable of it."

I know she doesn't mean it critically, she's been orbiting him for quite some time now, her dragon being mated to his and all. So she knows him, better than I probably ever will as a result and she's probably right, but…

"Sometimes he looks at me and I think, just for a second…" I swallow hard.

Violet's expression softens. "I know, I see it too."

My face crumples. "Then why—"

"Because it doesn't mean he can, Rem." She squeezes my hand. "You've been chasing after him since the day you met and him liking you, doesn't mean he'll risk his heart and that's what he'd have to do—we're at war." My sister frowns. "It's all or nothing."

All or nothing.

"Fine." My voice cracks as I speak. "Fine. I get it."

My twin chews on her lip. "So you'll come to Chantara?" She whispers softly.

"No." I shake my head. "I'm going to see him, one last time." Violet's face falls. "I can do all or nothing," I whisper quietly, "but I need a chance to convince him it should be all."

"You've had—"

"No." I shake my head, my heart clenching in my chest. "I've joked and flirted and watched him spend hours of his time dragging you around, but I never made it clear…"

My sister breathes in deep, her shoulders rising like she's steadying herself. "He knows." She whispers, the words leaving her in a rush. "He knows, Remi."

I sit with that for a moment and then slowly, I nod. "Ok." I accept, my throat tightening.

"Ok?"

"Sure." I turn around, taking a seat on the edge of my bed. "I think I'll stay here anyway." I try and force a smile, but I'm sure it comes out as more of a grimace. "You go, Vi. Have fun with the others."

Her eyes are worried, but a lifetime of arguments and tears has told her when to push and when to leave well enough alone, so she leaves well enough alone. It takes a moment to collect myself, to pick the pieces of my heart up off the ground and place them back where they're meant to be, but when that's done and I've managed to still the shaking of my hands, I stand from the bed and head for the door.

If he doesn't want me that's fine, but he can tell me himself, one final time.

All or nothing.

I throw on my jacket and make my way down the hall, heading toward the school's academic wing. Pretty much everyone is either training or enjoying some recreational time, so I don't pass many people on the way there and when I raise my hand to knock, the hall is empty.

The door swings open with the help of lesser magic and I slip inside, not bothering to announce myself—the presence of a shadow curling up around my ankle tells me he knew exactly who was at his door before he ever opened it.

"Professor Riorson." I lift my eyes to his and attempt to shore up my resolve.

"Cadet Sorrengail." He leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "To what do I owe this visit?"

My heart pounds against my rib cage and my pulse flutters like a caged bird. There's a desk between us and metres of clean air, but it may as well be nothing. The atmosphere in the room is charged and I absently wonder if Vi warned him I might be coming.

"I…"

He waits, lifting a brow. "Yes?"

"I'm failing!" I blurt, suddenly losing my nerve. "I'm going to fail your class and I don't know how to…" His eyes hold mine, gold-flecked onyx practically smouldering.

"Try again." He instructs, lowering his hands to the armrests on his chair. He splays his knees casually, leaning back while his eyes seem to stare right through me.

"I'm sorry?"

His lips tilt up, just slightly. "That's not what you came here for." He shakes his head. "Try again and don't lie this time."

My mouth runs dry. Suddenly every conviction I had, every ounce of bravado flees my body and I want to be anywhere but here because I know…this is about to hurt. Having your heart ripped out always does.

"I…came to ask for an extra credit assignment?" I try again, clinging to the minuscule hope he might believe me. It's nothing Vi hasn't done before. Well, before Basgiath, but still.

Riorson smirks. "And your suggestion?"

I frown.

"You're the professor. Don't you decide…?"

The hair on my neck stands on end and I shiver as something brushes the end of my braid. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He murmurs and my eyes blow wide.

"Uh…" His lips tilt.

"Not that it matters, you're lying again."

My mouth falls open. "Ok, you can't possibly know that!" I hiss. "You're not an inntinnsic, you have no idea what I'm thinking!"

"I know you." He counters. "You expect me to believe you, Remi Sorrengail, came here for an extra credit assignment?" He shakes his head.

"You don't know me!" I frown. "I've barely even seen you since you graduated." And not for lack of trying. I've personally been deployed up and down the Eastern Wing, but every time we've been at the same outpost he's miraculously busy. Violet however, sees him all the time. A fact I've always hated.

"Why are you here, Remi?" He tries again, looking more amused by the second and I can just tell—he knows. It shouldn't be a surprise to me. I've never made my interest a secret, I'm not ashamed of it, but that doesn't lessen the disappointment that even after all this time he'll refuse to give me the time of day when I know he's attracted to me too.

I lock my jaw and scowl. "Is there an answer you'll believe?" I finally utter, shame and frustration colouring my cheeks.

"Not extra credit."

I guess the all or nothing is going to be nothing then. How disappointing. I turn on my heel, refusing to waste a second more of my time on someone who clearly doesn't appreciate me.

"Remi." He calls sternly, his shadows tugging on my braid, and when the door won't open I resist the urge to stomp my foot like a sullen teenager—I want out.

My throat tightens. "Yes, sir?" I grit my teeth, glancing over my shoulder and his expression shifts like he's only now recognising the finality in the air. No more flirting, no more games, no more anything.

He closes his eyes and I recognise the minute twitches of his brow—he's talking to his dragon. I yank on the doorknob again but it refuses to turn, keeping me trapped in a mess of my own making.

When he stands from his chair and rounds the desk, my heart begins to flutter with panic.

"Sit down." He orders and I blink.

"No."

I'd have said it anyway, just to be contrary, but this time I mean it. I don't want to be here anymore.

"Sit. Down." His voice lowers, taking on a frustrated, threatening tone and my lip peels back from my teeth.

"No."

Before I can reach for a blade to defend myself with, his arms are around my waist and he's lifting me into the air, carting me back toward the desk like a sack of grain. He kicks the chair before it out of the way with his foot and deposits me on the desk's surface, sending papers scattering.

When I lash out with my foot, aiming to kick him somewhere painful, he catches my ankle between thick, powerful thighs. "Stop." He warns, his tone glacial. "Look at me."

Fuck you. I think, and when I glance up there's a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Sor—Remi." He corrects, leaning in. He plants large, calloused hands on my knees, keeping my thighs apart as he steps between them, ensuring I can no longer lash out at him with my boot. As his fingers curl around my knees, he leans in close enough for our jaws to brush, and I suck in a sharp breath.

"Sir?" My voice shakes and he all but groans.

He lifts a hand, tracing over my cheekbone with his thumb and my heart races. Each brush of his fingers, the feel of his stubble against my jaw, all of it—it sets my soul alight.

"Everything about this is inadvisable." He whispers, his voice gruff. "You are inadvisable."

I swallow hard. "So you've said." Never going to happen, he'd told me more than once while studying here.

"And yet…"

My muscles bunch, shoulders tensing. "…and yet?" I challenge, finally finding my voice.

He takes one breath and then another, and forces me to mourn the loss of his warmth as he steps away. "Article eight, section one—"

"You are not quoting the Codex at me!" I spit, eyes narrowing into a lethal glare as he takes another step. "You? Seriously?" Fury engulfs me, anger burning my chest with tendrils of white-hot rage. "You're a gods damned separatist, even now, Duke Riorson," I sneer, "and you're wedging the Codex between us?"

Of all things, of every excuse—

"You could be—"

"I'm exempt!" I throw my hands up, lashing out with my foot once more and growling with frustration as he halts it with his shadows. "Article eight, section one of the Dragon Rider's Codex states that calling cadets into active service in times of war may only be authorised by—"

"The Commanding General of Basgiath. I'm aware." He glares.

"So I'm no longer a cadet and I haven't been since July when they sent me to the front to mend." I point out.

"That's a technicality—"

"Oh so you're allowed to call technicalities and I'm not? Got it." I roll my eyes. "Just admit you don't want to fuck me professor and let's move on."

"In-ad-visable!" He yells, a deadly glare on his face and I jolt, rearing back a little. "If you were anyone else I'd have—" He seals his lips together and spins, facing the wall as he jerks a hand through his hair, gripping the dark strands roughly. I watch wide-eyed as his shoulders rise and fall, like he's short of breath.

"You'd what?" I whisper.

I don't dare move, frozen in place on the desk as I watch him, waiting with bated breath to see if he'll finally, finally tell me why. Why he refuses to see me as anything but Lilith Sorrengail's daughter, Brennan's little sister, Violet's twin. See ME, I want to scream at him. I deserve that.

When he turns, his eyes are dark and incensed. "If you were anyone else, I'd have bent you over that desk already and taught you a lesson."

My heart flies into my throat. "What?" It's barely more than a whisper leaving my lips.

He stalks back across the room, clearing the few feet he'd put between us, and slides his hand beneath my chin, long fingers curling around the back of my jaw to pull me in, tilting my face up to meet his. "You heard me."

Heat flushes my cheeks. "Wh…why not me?" I ask and embarrassingly enough, my voice breaks. "Why anyone but me? I'm—"

"Soft." His thumb drifts, brushing gently over my lips as he cups my jaw. "You have a soft heart, Remi Sorrengail, and I'm not the kind of man who can care for it."

I scoff, baring my teeth at him. "I'm a rider, same as you." I glare. "They don't call me the Angel of Death because I'm soft."

His hand slips, running back over my hair and down my loose braid. "Well they got the first part right." He murmurs, closing his eyes. I watch, taut as a bowstring as he takes one breath, then another. "Fuck." He mutters, face twisting up like he's in physical pain.

"Xaden?" I whisper, voice shaking.

"You have terrible timing." His hand tightens on my braid and then he's pulling, tugging me forward as he grasps my chin and seals his mouth over mine. My heart leaps into my throat and my chest tightens as he devours me, the hand on my hair sliding down to rest between my shoulder blades. His fingers splay as he pulls me in, holding me close.

His teeth nip at my lower lip and I gasp, tilting my head in submission as he slips his tongue into my mouth. Oh gods. I whimper, pressing myself further into his grasp as he kisses me thoroughly. A small sound of pleasure escapes my throat and he diverts his attention, nipping gently at my jawline.

His mouth moves right to the sensitive spot behind my ear, like he knows exactly where to nip, where to suck, where to pleasure to have me liquefy. His lips are warm against the shell of my ear as he whispers, "you choose now to take no for an answer?"

He worries the skin beneath it with his teeth and I moan, arching into him. "Y-ou didn't want me." I pant. "You've never—you—"

"I always want you." He growls. "You've been taunting me for years, angel." I gasp at the endearment, tilting my head to give him more access as he works his way down the column of my throat. "It's not a matter of want."

My fingers tighten on the timber of the desk behind me and I suddenly realise I no longer have to refrain from touching. Immediately I reach for him, slipping my hands beneath the leather of his flight jacket, running them up his sides to hold him to me.

"Then what?" I whisper, lifting a hand to rake through his hair, scratching my fingernails against his scalp as he sucks a mark into my throat. I want to touch him everywhere. "Xaden, please." I whimper, bringing my legs up to try and drag him closer. I need to wrap my thighs around him.

He groans, panting into my neck. "We should not be doing this." But he doesn't stop.

I gasp, arching upward so my chest brushes his as his fingers skate beneath the line of my corset. "You've yet to give me a good reason." I say, desire coiling low in my abdomen.

"I'm your teacher." He breathes, pulse skipping as I lock my ankles behind his lower back.

"And I'll be such a good girl for you."

Just like that, his control snaps. "Fuck, Remi." He pulls me forward forcefully, dipping his head to claim my lips once more. The kiss is deep and desperate, and I moan loudly into his mouth.

"So. Fucking. Tempting." His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling slightly on the silver-tipped strands and I moan again, heart pounding as my skin gets hotter and hotter.

He kisses like a man possessed, holding me to him like he can't get enough and when we finally part for air again, it's all I can do to keep from begging. I grasp his hand, dragging it from where it rests on the side of my neck, down over my chest, past my stomach and to the button on my leathers.

He barely hesitates, slipping his hand beneath my waistband. I toss my head back, a small gasp leaving my lips as he slides his fingers over my clit and and back up again. "Gods," I whimper, "please."

"Please, what?" He whispers, slowly drawing his fingers through my arousal.

"Please, sir?" I gasp, leaning back to meet gold-flecked onyx. He chuckles.

"I meant what do you expect me to do with you, angel?" His thumb slowly circles my clit in soft, barely-there movements, "but the respect is a nice touch."

I swallow hard, a red flush spreading down my neck, but I have him right in front of me and I refuse to falter now. "Please make me come." I whisper and he groans, hips rocking forward reflexively. "I'll be good for you, I promise."

His eyes are so dark they're almost entirely black despite the light in his office, and he pushes my legs from his hips, spreading my knees further apart as he pulls me to the edge of the desk.

"These need to come off. Now." His hands are already moving, undoing the buttons and sliding my pants down over my hips, taking my underwear with them. I lever myself up on my hands as he drags them down and drops to his knees before me, fingers working on the laces of my boots.

He pulls them off one by one and dumps them on the floor, and when my pants are finally off and I'm half-naked on his desk, he tips his head back and stares. I flush deeper as he remains kneeling on the floor, slipping his hands up to cup my knees.

He rests his head on the inside of my thigh for a moment, his hair brushing my skin, and parts my legs further. Anxiety flares and I glance up at the door uncertainly, suddenly realising where we are.

"Is that door locked?" My heart skips a beat.

"Does it make you wet?" He murmurs, "the idea of being caught?"

I swallow hard. "No."

My heart flutters against my rib cage and his eyes soften, lips pressing gently to my skin. "It's locked, angel. No one's getting in." He places another careful kiss on my inner thigh. "No one can hear us. It's just you and me."

Something inside me settles and I relax enough to reach out, threading my fingers through his hair. "Ok." I murmur, admiring the silky strands as he moves closer, drawing in a sharp breath as he wraps strong arms around my legs and pulls.

"Xa-Xaden." I whimper as he lowers his mouth to my heat, parting his lips.

"What happened to sir?" He lifts a brow, glancing up at me, and my stomach swoops.

"Sir," I whisper, my voice shaking.

I watch as his mouth curves up in a smirk. "Better." He agrees, and lowers it to my clit.

"Oh, gods." I moan aloud as he seals his lips around it, wasting no time with foreplay. He flattens his tongue and I can't help but rock my hips, both my hands flying into his hair.

My back arches as he scrapes his teeth over me and I quickly slam one hand down behind me to keep from losing my balance, sending pens scattering everywhere.

"Look at you, making a mess." He murmurs between languid strokes of his tongue.

My chest heaves and I grip his hair tighter, trying to still the movement of my hips. "I'll make—a mess—of you." I pant, the last word pitched higher as he closes his mouth around me and sucks.

"Promises, promises." He murmurs as he drags his fingers along my inner thigh teasingly. "Are you going to come on my face, angel?" He asks, barely looking up as he slips a finger inside me.

I moan, arching as my heart pounds, desire coiling low and tight in my gut as I clench around his finger. "I—" I can't get a word out, entirely breathless as he sits back on his heels and waits, lips shining with the evidence of my arousal.

"Look at you." He whispers, lifting his thumb to swirl it around my clit. "So wet for me already."

"Yes," I breathe, curling my fingers tighter in his hair. "Always for you."

He drags his finger out and presses it back in again, eyes never leaving his hand. I squirm in place, wanting—needing—more. He thumbs at my clit almost playfully, finally looking up to watch my reaction and I whimper, screwing my own eyes shut.

"Can you take another for me?" He asks, moving his finger teasingly.

"I can take all of you." I whine, twisting with impatience. "I want your cock, please Xaden?" He lifts a brow and I already know exactly what he's going to say.

"Ask me nicely."

There it is. I swallow hard. "Please, sir?" I soften my voice, ignoring the embarrassment that flares in my chest. I'll beg if it gets me there. "I want to come on your cock."

"You will." He responds, stroking my inner wall with his finger. "Just not yet. Be a good girl and let me have my fun."

I manage to refrain from more than a single disgruntled whimper as he ignores my plea, starting circles with his thumb again. When he slides a second finger home beside the first and curls them up, I cry out, tugging on his hair to bring him close.

"Please, your mouth."

He flattens his tongue obediently and I gasp and whimper as he begins moving it over my clit in time with his fingers. He laps at me as he slides them in and out, curling them up to press against a spot that almost sends me over the edge.

"There! There, please!"

I decide I hate the desk. It's hard and uncomfortable, and it provides poor leverage, keeping me from rolling my hips or fucking myself against his face.

He swirls his tongue and presses his fingers up simultaneously, and the action takes me entirely by surprise, tossing me unceremoniously over the edge. "Xaden!" I cry out, jerking against him as I shatter, coming apart on his tongue.

His head is squeezed tightly between my thighs as I shudder, hips jerking, and he moans against me, sending my heart rate soaring as the vibration of it rumbles through my clit. I gasp, clenching my cunt down around his fingers.

I don't know where to look, what to hold onto as my pleasure rolls over me in waves. Sweat slicks my skin and when he finally pulls away, licking his lips in self-satisfaction, his eyes gleam. "I can't wait to get my cock in you."

I moan, tightening around the fingers still inside me. "You could have already been in me." I pant, whimpering as he finally rises to his feet, showing no signs of the difficulty I know I'd be experiencing if I were on my knees that long.

He slips his fingers free and brings them to his lips, holding my gaze as he licks them clean. My stomach swoops like I've done an aerial dive and my lips part, surprise and arousal no doubt written all over my face. Gods.

"Patience, cadet." He lectures, grasping my chin roughly. "You've been so good," he croons, leaning in to kiss me. "You don't want to ruin that now, do you?" When he slips his tongue past my lips, I can taste myself on him and I moan into his mouth, skin heating beyond comprehension. It feels like when I wield—all my power building up inside me, only now it's pleasure; building and building again until I'm ready to explode.

"We're going back to that?" I pant as we part. "You don't like your name on my lips?"

"I like you obedient." He fires back, his hand gripping the back of my neck. "You've spent years taunting me, having your fun at my expense. I think I'm owed some recompense."

I almost roll my eyes. Almost.

"You could have had me at any time." I whisper. "If you waited, that's on you." I tilt my head up, closing the gap between us myself for the first time as I kiss him sweetly. "Your room, mine, the sparring mats…" I murmur. "I've thought about us everywhere."

"And this…?" He asks, eyes heated. "What were you picturing when you came down here, all innocent, asking about extra credit?" His hands move to his own leathers and my heart skips a beat as he begins undoing buckles, removing his weaponry with quick, efficient movements.

"What were you picturing when you walked in here, Remi, and saw me sitting behind my desk?" He moves onto the button at his waistband, popping it open. I watch, breath hitching as he frees his cock, pushing his pants down slightly as he begins to stroke. "Was this what you had in mind?"

A small sound escapes me, more of a squeak than anything else, and I suddenly find myself at a loss for words. He's…sizeable. He grasps the front of my corset, dragging me up off the desk, levering me to my feet. I tilt my head back to look at him, but our eyes only meet for a second before he's pushing, turning me around and down.

I catch myself on my hands, palms flat on the desk, fingers splayed wide and gasp as he presses himself in behind me, a hand grasping my braid. He leans down, mouth warm against my ear and says, "be a good girl and spread your legs."

I obey on reflex, but I'm certain my skin is so red it looks like I've reached burnout. "Xa-Xaden…" My fingers tighten on the dark timber and I gasp as he presses down on my spine, forcing my back to bow, lifting my ass against him.

"You look so pretty like this." He murmurs in my ear and I jolt as he drags a finger up through my folds, adding a second to gently hold me open. I can feel his fingers on my skin, hear the stroke of his hand on his cock as he prepares himself, but all I can see is papers and tomes.

I gasp as the head of his cock presses against my entrance, heart fluttering wildly, and as he starts to slowly push inside, I panic. "Wait!" I call, reaching behind my back, searching for his hand. "Wait, wait, wait." I pant, anxiety thrashing in my chest as he freezes, holding completely still.

His hand closes over mine, fingers threading between my own and I squeeze tightly, trembling in place. "Not like this." I swallow hard, shaking my head. "Not—" Before I can finish speaking he has me on my feet, spun around and held against him, his cock pressing against my stomach as he spears his hand into my hair, guiding my eyes to his.

"Remi?" He asks seriously.

My lip shakes and a small, mortified sound escapes my throat. "I want to see you." I whisper. "The first time…I want to see you." I want to look into his eyes. I want to see the way his brows knit, the way his lips part in pleasure as he drives into me. I want him to see me and know it's me and no one else. I want all of him.

His gaze softens and he dips his head, kissing me softly, his movements slow and languid. It eases the pressure in my chest, the small part of me that thought speaking up might be a deal breaker, and when we part he reaches down and lifts me off my feet, carrying me in quick strides to the chair behind his desk.

"Tell me if you want to stop." He murmurs, pressing his lips to my cheek, my jaw, my throat.

My knees settle on either side of him and I hover in place for a moment, waiting for his eyes to return to mine once more. "I don't want to stop."

Slowly, I sink down on his cock, holding his gaze as I take inch after inch of him until I finally have to close my eyes, tipping my head back in rapture. "Gods, Xaden."

He exhales slowly and his voice is strained when he speaks again. "So tight, Remi." He murmurs, lips brushing my cheek. "So wet for me."

I moan, tipping my head into his neck as he jerks his hips up, pressing against all the right places. The stretch is just this side of too much and it's exquisite and entirely worth the wait. I reach around him, gripping the back of his chair as I lever myself up and drop back down again, squeezing my walls tight around his cock.

"Good girl," he praises, sliding his hands up my spine as he encourages me to move.

I blink my eyes open, kissing my way up his jaw, sucking a mark of ownership into his neck. I want everyone to know exactly what he's been up to in here—I want them to know he's taken. I lean back until I can see him properly—see every minuscule expression as I gyrate on his cock. "I've wanted this for so long." I gasp. "Wanted you."

He lifts a hand, brushing my hair from my eyes and the other palms my hip, encouraging me to move. "I know." He murmurs, shadows slipping free from his control. "I know everything, Remi. All your wants, your needs, everything." Wisps of black curl up around me, brushing my skin, disappearing beneath my clothes. "I'm just as fucking obsessed with you as you are with me." My stomach swoops.

"Are you—" I gasp, arching my spine as something cold brushes lightly against my clit. "Is—is that?" I can't even get the words out I'm so short of breath.

"Me." He whispers, thrusting harder. "All of me, all over you."

I groan, tipping my face back into his neck as I wrap my arms around his shoulders, holding on tight. I could interpret that very differently. "Do you want it harder, angel?" He murmurs, teeth nipping at my earlobe.

I nod furiously, panting as he snaps his hips up, pulling me down at the same time. "Please, Xade."

He sets a quick, unrelenting pace, slamming home inside me with the same desperation I feel, like he needs it—like he's a man starved. "You're so perfect, Rem." He praises, breath rattling out of him as his shadows circle my clit. They endless and determined just like him, slipping low beneath the neckline of my corset as he drives his cock into me over and over again.

"Are you going to come again for me?" He pants against my ear as I tighten around him. "Let me come inside you? Fill you up?"

"Yes, yes, yes—" The coil of pleasure building in my abdomen bursts and I cry out, holding on tight as fire floods my veins, nerve endings lighting up like a shooting star. "Xaden! Xaden—" I gasp and shudder, curling into him as he continues thrusting, chasing his own peak.

I'm so over-sensitised I can't help but whimper against his throat, my fingers tightening on his arms with every stroke. His thrusts grow less and less controlled as he hurtles toward the same cliff I'd just toppled over, and I clench down tight around him, sucking another mark into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

"Fuck!" He curses, teeth lodging in my dragonscale armour as his hips give one final jerk and he spills inside me with a groan. His chest rises and falls rapidly beneath my cheek and I smile softly to myself, keeping my eyes down. "Gods." He rests his head on my shoulder, arms curling around me to hold me close, and I do the same to him, my heart swelling in my chest.

I lie my cheek on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he presses a kiss to the back of my neck. His breathing begins to even out, pulse slowing but I hold onto him just as tightly still, keeping him close.

My knees are beginning to ache and the width of his hips isn't exactly comfortable for mine, but I don't dare move, knowing the second I do this will be over and I'll have to face reality again—awkward, uncertain reality.

I'm just as obsessed with you as you are with me, he'd said—but is he really? That seems unlikely.

"Remi." He murmurs, his arms falling from my sides, and I bite down hard on the inside of my lip, throat tightening. "Angel, we can't stay like this." He chuckles.

"Yes we can." I murmur petulantly into his neck, not loosening my grip an inch.

"I have a meeting in ten minutes." He replies, hand firm in the centre of my spine, "and while I'm happy to work with my cock inside you, I don't share."

A barely audible sound of surprise lodges in my throat. "Share?" I ask quietly, a tendril of hope curling in my chest.

He tugs gently on my braid, encouraging me to lean back so our eyes can meet. "You're mine, Remi, and I don't share my things with anyone." He says sternly.

That kind of possessive alpha bullshit should not fly with me. If it were anyone else, I'd probably punch them square in the nose for their insolence and tell them I'm not an object, but he's not anyone else and for him…

"Yes, sir." I whisper, cheeks flushing, and he groans, hips stuttering below me as his body makes a valiant attempt at an encore.

"Remi!" He chides and my lips curl up in a smirk, emboldened.

"Was that enough for extra credit, Professor Riorson? Am I passing your class?"

"Fuck." He mutters, mostly to himself. "If anyone finds out—"

"I'm happy to warm your cock while you work," I murmur, "if you still think I need extra instruction."

"Remi!" He groans, lifting me off him completely. "You're going to be the death of me." I guess he wasn't kidding about having a meeting to go to.

He sets me on my feet and I stare up at him innocently, chewing on my lower lip. "I feel so empty without you inside—"

"For fuck's sake!" He curses, sending a shadow to curl around my mouth. I go to speak further, to taunt him again, and find the dark mass blocks all sound—I can't so much as whisper in his direction for as long as he can wield. I pout, staring up at him with wide, wet eyes.

"How important is this meeting?" I sign, hands moving rapidly in the air. "I'll be lonely without your—" Shadows zip forward, swirling around my wrists to lock them tight together, binding my hands.

He finishes buttoning his pants and folds his arms over his chest, staring at my half-naked form in the middle of his office, completely unimpressed. "I suppose insecure Remi is gone then?" He asks, striding forward to cup my jaw with his hand.

That scores a direct hit and I guess he somehow knows it, because his fingers gentle as they tip my chin up. "Torment me in public and you won't like the punishment."

I'm absolutely certain I will.

Almost as if he hears my thoughts, his eyes narrow and he scowls. "I promise you won't, angel. I'll bring you to the edge over and over again and leave you there, bound and desperate while I get myself off—every day until you've learned your lesson."

I swallow hard.

"Thought so." He hums. "But if you're good, I'll help you come—on my face, on my hand, on my cock…over and over and over again." Onyx eyes glitter. "It's your choice, baby."

Baby. The word hits me like a punch in the gut and my chest tightens. "I can be good." I blurt the second his shadows disappear. "I promise."

"Good girl." The hand around my jaw curls up and he drags me in, dipping his head to place a soft, reverent kiss on my lips. "Go clean up and I'll see you tonight, Cadet Sorrengail."

I breathe in deep, a small smile touching my lips as I reach for my pants, hands shaking with relief. "Ok." His hand skates over my back as I finish dressing and he guides me toward the door to his office.

"And Rem?" He calls, halting me when my hand is on the doorknob. "That technicality is bullshit—it's not flying with anyone in leadership and you know it, so for fuck's sake keep this to yourself until this posting is over."

I bare my teeth in a grin, a joyful laugh bubbling past my lips. "Whatever you say, sir."

Who knew academia could be this satisfying?

[cha-melodius]

6. The “I forgive you” hug (for rwrb, if you haven’t gotten this one yet)

(Ooh, an unusual request! There are so many ways this could have gone; I hope you enjoy what I came up with. read all the hug ficlets)

6: The “I forgive you” hug

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” Henry asks, having finally managed to corner Alex alone by the cake, midway through their friends’ wedding reception.

Alex rolls his eyes, not in that teasing way he used to but decidedly exasperated, which is as much a sign that something’s wrong as all the rest of his behaviour. “Nothing’s going on,” he huffs, pretending like he’s suddenly fascinated by sugar flowers.

“You’ve been acting like a right arsehole all night. To Jeff, and to me,” Henry says bluntly. He’s never seen Alex be as rude as he’s been to Henry’s date. Maybe he and Alex haven’t stayed in touch as much lately, but they were close friends once. Honest with each other. Ok, perhaps Henry had kept one secret, but that’s beside the point. “Something’s clearly wrong, and I think you should just say it.”

“It’s nothing,” Alex grunts.

He starts trying to walk away, but Henry’s not done with this discussion; he reaches out to grab Alex’s arm, only to for his grip to get shaken off. The movement causes Alex to lurch to the side and he bumps into the cake table, which wobbles once, precariously, before stabilising.

Alex lets out a heavy sigh of relief, and Henry takes advantage of his distraction to grab his arm, more firmly this time, and haul him out into the corridor.

“Stop saying it’s nothing,” Henry snaps. They’re standing closer now, their noses no more than a handful of centimetres apart, and Alex glares up at him. “I know you, and this isn’t who you are.”

“Maybe it is now,” Alex retorts defiantly, but there are cracks forming in his façade. His lower lip, stuck out along with his set jaw, wobbles.

“Please, Alex,” Henry says, his voice softening before he means to let it. He’s never been able to stay mad at Alex for that long. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Alex’s expression crumples, and he drops his eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry, H. I was frustrated at myself, and I took it out on you guys. You didn’t deserve that.”

Henry doesn’t hesitate before he pulls Alex into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around Alex’s shoulders as Alex tucks his head partly under Henry’s chin. “It’s forgiven,” he says, half into Alex’s curls. “It’s just… I missed you, and it hurt when you pushed me away like that.”

“I missed you too,” Alex sniffles into Henry’s shoulder. After another breath, he carefully extracts himself and smooths the front of his jacket down. “I saw you after all this time, and I think I was so fucking overwhelmed by regret that I temporarily lost my mind.”

“What do you mean, regret?” Henry asks, though he assumes Alex means not keeping in touch as much as they should have—Henry certainly has plenty of regrets about that.

But Alex just smiles a little ruefully and shakes his head. “Mostly regret that I didn’t figure out I was bisexual until after college.”

Henry blinks at him. “What?”

“I mean, I had such a big, fat crush on you, and I didn’t even realise what it was until literal years later. How embarrassing is that?”

He says it with a laugh and an alluring dusty pink tinge on his cheeks, like he hasn’t just turned Henry’s entire life upside down.

“But—” Henry starts, only to falter. “But you’ve got a partner now, too.”

“Who, Nora?” Alex frowns at him. “I could have sworn I told you she’s my sister’s wife. She’s just here because I didn’t want to come alone. That, and the free cake.”

“So… you’re not seeing anyone?”

Alex’s mouth tips wryly. “Nope. Sadly single.”

Henry doesn’t think—he crosses the few steps between them, puts both of his hands on Alex’s face, and pulls him into a kiss. Alex responds almost instantaneously, like he can’t help it, and their lips slide together for a few blissful moments before he tears himself out of it, his eyes wide.

“Wait— what about Jeff?”

“We’ve been on three dates and I don’t even like him that much,” Henry confesses. “I didn’t want to come alone either.”

“So you—”

“Have been in love with you since our first year? Yes,” Henry finishes, unwilling to waste any more time.

Alex’s smile is impossibly brilliant when Henry pulls him into another kiss.

[amoreva]

FEIGNING FOR YA

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CHAPTER 4

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: experiencing your new found freedom with luke and co (why does he smile at you like that?)

warnings: not proofread! slow burn, college au, smau, fake dating to dating, cursing, aged up! pjo charcters, parental expectations

a/n: so guess who lied about being back…do you guys forgive me?

series list | next

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When Luke introduced you to just a sliver of what actual freedom, you yearned for more.

Freedom wasn’t running from the cops and partying every night. Freedom wasn’t skipping class just for the fun of it. Freedom wasn’t doing batshit crazy things under the excuse of “free will”.

Freedom was, to you, having fun—being a normal young adult without worrying about your parents’ opinion.

Between the last month and a half of classes, Luke made it his personal mission to let you fully experience your freedom. Though it was proving to be difficult.

Everytime you did something that would cause your parents to turn their faces away in clear disappointment, a nagging feeling pulled at the back of your mind.

For example, this weekend Luke, you and a couple of others went out to a house party. You were dancing with Luke when you felt guilt linger at the back of your mind. To party so carelessly knowing your parents would be disappointed—part of you wanted to forget their opinions and judgement. The other part of you wanted to tone it down at the party; lessen their disappointment.

It was like the devil and angel permanently moved to your shoulders to torment you.

Which is why you were about to do this.

Was it stupid? Yes. Will you get hurt? 100% Did you trust Luke enough? Somewhat.

“I want you to decide what you want to do—not for the sake of your parents or me or our friends. Make this choice because it’s what you want.” Luke called you late, one night. His voice firm, unwavering.

You wanted this.

Alcohol buzzed in your veins; temporarily silencing the devil and angel. The guilt that crept up on you was gone. You weren’t so far gone you couldn’t tell from left and right, but just enough to not feel guilty about anything.

Again. Was it stupid? Yes.

Will you get hurt? Maybe.

Did you trust Luke? Without a doubt.

Chris, Clarisse, Silena, Luke and you, the usual group, were kicked out of study hall, for disturbance of peace or whatever. Classes were canceled due to AC going down and you were going to study? This must’ve been a sign from the universe. Which led the group to a lake.

Now this was “public disturbance”

Tucked beneath the dense forest on the outskirts of campus, laid a cool lake. With the coming of summer sun, this had been a crucial hangout spot.

Would your parents freak about you jumping into a lake with gross bacteria and possible diseases? Absolutely.

Your childhood consisted of more “inside” activities. Rather than playing outside with your friends, scrapping knees, and such—you had the read a book on the couch as the clock ticks drove you insane.

Silena and you stood on the edge of a decently high ledge. Luke was swimming below. He had already tested the depth of the water. Chris’ speaker lit up in different colors as it played the song. His arm around Clarisse as he held a beer.

“Ready?” Silena turned to you. Her cheeks pink due to alcohol consumption.

“Ready.” You squeezed her hand.

The beat dropped. Silena and you jumped. The cold water engulfing you. The rush felt terribly addicting to you, sobering you up all too quickly. Yet the giddiness of it all provided a different high.

You broke through the surface and arms wrapped around your waist to keep you afloat. You weren’t the strongest swimmer. A laugh erupted from the depths of your soul as Luke wrapping an arm around his neck. His smile matching yours. The sun beared down on the lake, glittering the water’s surface.

Since when did he smile like that? Like you were the only person in the world. Like you were the brightest star in the sky.

Clarisse’s shouts of protest pull you out of your head. Chris is carrying her bridal style, a shit eating grin on his face as he jumps in with her. The afternoon was wasted away at the lake, sunbathing, swimming and drinking.

Your head buzzing with dopamine as you walked to Chris’ car. Luke insisted you wore his dry t-shirt. It was baggy and your wet bathing suit would affect it less. He insisted and made the lame excuse of it being boyfriend material 101.

His t-shirt smelled like him. A mix of sandalwood and vanilla, but you could hardly think about it when the windows were down, blasting music. The perfect summer vibes. Your heart beating fast due to the excitement and not anything else.

You hadn’t noticed at the time, but alcohol did more than just silence the angel and devil.

Whatever you had that afternoon, the freedom mixed with the alcohol and pure, raw happiness, you wanted to experience more of it. A time where you can forget about your parents’ and aunts and uncles future judgmental stares and rude comments.

“Y’know, I appreciate you toughing this out with me.” You spoke up one night.

Luke took you out to help you experience more of your newfound freedom. Which actually was just stargazing on the roof of his car.

Well…you supposed it worked. You didn’t care for your family’s opinion at the moment, even though you knew they chastise you for hanging out with the “bad influence”.

“I’m still in it for the trip, sweetheart.” Luke teased. His eyes darting from each star in the sky to your face. You were oblivious to his gaze, focused on the constellations above.

“I mean it. This fake dating must be a huge strike to your charming lady killer aura.” You sat up on your elbows, speaking in a joking tone. You hardly noticed he was looking at you already.

“Yeah, puts a real damper to my chick magnet having a fake girlfriend.” Luke snorted and sat up.

“You’ll be free soon enough.” You rolled your eyes.

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You’ve been best friends since freshman year. It was only natural this would happen and besides there is no feelings attached. A little revenge and you still keep your friendship. A damn good deal if you every had one.

This was something you wanted to do. You had to do. To show your parents you won’t take their crap, to show they you’re grown up.

You shout with enthusiasm. Your body sticking out of Luke’s sun roof. The wind catching in your hair as the warm yellow lights of the tunnel illuminated the space. You felt free and unrestricted and awfully happy.

The best feeling in the world.

“I want a turn after!” Luke shouted, knowing the wind was too loud for you to hear.

“No way!” You did hear him.

Windows were down, blasting music.

“C’mon…” He pinched your leg.

“Stop!” You squealed.

You loved the feelings that swarmed in your heart. Only for it to end when red and blue lights and loud sirens were heard. Luke and you knew the consequences of the recklessness, but as you pulled over, you couldn’t help but share a couple of laughs—like teenage girls caught doing something bad.

You’re quite happy you’re in this with your best friend and no one else.

Making new memories with no romantic feelings attached.

It was the best. The best.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

taglist:

@happy-mushrooms @m00ng4z3r @justanotherkpopstanlol @2hiigh2cry @celluifleur @yuminako @pookiebear16 @mxtokko @cxcillia @kai-islost @kidkrowk @iluvpjo @sofiacblair @cherryynovaa @dracoslovergirl @lalloronaisreal @jennapancake @urbanflorals @sweetstime @cherr-y-eji @thatbird-fromrio @itzlilywelch @annispamz @unseriousgirl @hanankhan8

[pinespinespinespinespines]

Part 3 continuation of the Fiddlestan au i was babbling about in part 1 +2: this post

the Stan visits Fidds [and Ford] at Backupsmore AU:

And so, Stanley is once again on the road, up to his usual shenanigans, yet there was one difference between his last departure from Backupsmore college and this one: Fiddleford, upon Stan's reappearance from the first runaway stunt, gave him his dormitory's mailing address on a sticky note. Stan almost threw it away multiple times, but couldn't bring himself to.

Two months pass before Fiddleford checks his mailbox to find an envelope without a return address. It's a letter from Stanley, who tells him that he won't be returning, and apologizing again for bothering them. The handwriting was messy and the paper wrinkled, making Fidds wonder if he was drunk writing it. He's also troubled by the fact that this was likely sent from a public mailbox, implying Stan was still homeless. Without an address to send a reply to, Fiddleford is left quietly stuffing the letter in a drawer.

Ford was tense with Fidds for a while after the Stan incident, but eventually accepts it as his roommate just being too friendly as usual. He feels kind of bad about punching his brother, but he also justifies it in his mind and focuses on classes instead. Three more months pass, and the pair of college boys finish for the summer, but neither are going home because they're in the last half of their first PhD degree- just because classes are on break doesn't mean they don't have their massive thesis projects to work on. However, the temporarily lessened workload gives Ford more time for his thoughts to wander, and he grows more guilty about Stan as time passes.

Stanley sends another short letter to Fidds later that fall, telling him that he's alive and doing fine, because "you always worry too damn much and I don't want that on my conscious" He also adds a blank postcard from New Orleans. Fiddleford puts those in the drawer too, telling himself that hes keeping them for Ford some day when he's not so messed up over his brother.

Fidds misses hanging out with Stanley, but he's also a pretty social guy- he has friends, goes to parties, has his classwork, and generally keeps busy and is just fine, if not a bit worried over his roommates sibling when he occasionally comes to mind.

After a college party one night, (one that Fiddleford actually convinced Ford to attend!) the boys return drunk to their room and for some reason, Ford admits that he was probably wrong to punch Stan. "Probably??" and Fiddleford tells him that's great and all, but if you want to tell him that, it's not going to be easy, then shows Ford the letter Stan had sent months ago that says he's not returning. Ford drunkenly cries, and Fiddleford comforts him, but the next morning Ford denies the entire thing. (Although keeps the letter and postcard).

At this point, Stan is starting to try out a multi-level marketing scam, which goes sour because he tricked a whole conference of people into signing up to buy 20 knives each. In hindsight, he should have picked something less dangerous to sell, but what's done is done- he's alive, mostly unscathed, and skipping that town with suitcases of cash. Before running off, Stan told the angry people that their money had already been sent to his boss. If any of those people find the truth and decide to come after him, he was toast.

If only he could drop off the multiple cases of cash across the country somewhere safe, so that he could lay low for a while somewhere without having to worry about them being stolen back if he was caught.

He really should've thrown away that sticky note ages ago.

Fiddleford gets the letter right as winter ends, asking him to meet Stanley behind a nearby gas station corner store at a certain date and time- an evening only days away. Relieved to see the letter and assuming the new meet-up spot was so that Ford wouldn't bump into or see him, Fidds does as the letter asks.

He's not happy, to say the least, when Stanley sheepishly begins asking if Fiddleford can keep a few of his things stored for a couple of months, and those "things" end up being multiple suitcases that Stan doesn't want him to open.

Fidds tells Stan that he will only consider keeping the luggage for him if he knows what's inside, and Stan relents, desperate. Fidds' jaw drops at the thousands of dollars that must be stuffed into those bags. Stan tells him he can have some of it for himself if he helps out with this, and Fiddleford immediately drags Stan into his car so that he can yell at him without attracting attention.

Stan tries to argue that he earned this money legally and gradually, and that he just doesn't want to travel with this much cash on him when he doesn't have a place to live that isn't his car. Fiddleford isn't sure whether to believe him, and Stan withers at his hesitation, realizing that he might be ruining the one good connection he still has to his brother.

Instead of answering, Fiddleford keeps scolding Stan about finding a place to live and taking care of himself, because he knows that as long as he hasn't actually taken the money from him, he won't run away.

And this gives Fiddleford an idea.

"I will keep yer money for you, on one condition."

"Whats that?" Stan asks nervously.

"Buy a lease for an apartment here in town with some of that cash, and then I will take the rest from you and store it in my dorm. Unless you want to keep it in your new place."

Stan tries to negotiate- Take the money now, and I'll buy the apartment tomorrow- but it doesn't work, Fiddleford doesn't trust him and rightfully so.

And so Stanley thinks through his two options: leave now without giving Fidds the money, and continue running away on his own with thousands in cash in the trunk - or - buy an apartment lease near Backupsmore and face the consequences of all his money going down the drain in rent and bill payments if he can't find a steady job.

Which he's almost never been able to do. Stan's about to open his mouth and tell him goodbye when Fiddleford speaks again.

"Ford regrets hitting you."

A brief pause. "...He does?"

"He does. He told me."

After a few seconds of blinking at Fidds in disbelief, Stan takes a shaky breath.

"Okay... Yeah. Yeah, I'll look for a place tomorrow."

[sanjoongie]

Arch Nemesis

For @cultofdionysusnet Mocha Madness event

🧠Pairing: Choi San x Reader (f) x ???

🧠Au: hero/villain au

🧠Trope: e2l (enemies to lovers), f2l (friends to lovers), established relationship

🧠Rating: 18+, MDNI, smut, angst

🧠Warnings: mind reading, emotion manipulation (they're superheroes, they have powers), cheating

🧠Kinks: mutual masturbation, sexual fantasies made reality, pussy slapping, deep throating, choking, penetrative sex with no barrier, oral (m), spit kink, deep throating

🧠Word count: 3,730

🧠Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland for beta-ing, my unholy trinity partners in crime 🥰 and to @starlitmark for bouncing ideas with me and helping this plot flourish!

🧠Summary: you're a hero, one who has struggled to remain good, but what happens when you're most guilty fantasy with your arch nemesis of all people, comes to light?

“Gotta go, duty calls,” You said as you leaned over in your bed and kissed San’s cheek.

“No,” San murmured, pulling you in tightly against his body, “Stay. They can send someone else.”

You gently extracted yourself from San’s grasp. “Nice try but I can’t be your pillow all night. Get some sleep, Baby.” San mumbled into his pillow as you left your shared bed with a fond smile on your face.

You and San had been friends since college; you'd both been training then to be supe's. The two of you had been brought together because of your powers. San had the ability to read minds and telekinesis, which was the makings of a villain. And you could shoot a heart with your finger and temporarily gain control of whoever you shot. Basically, your target would be in love with you and do anything for you. Which was also seen as the potential to be a villain. The two of you had banded together as outcasts and had been friends ever since.

Considering the reason you had become friends, you had made a pact with San: to never speak on your missions, because you didn't want your professional life to ruin your friendship. You didn't know what San’s alter ego was and he didn't know yours. 

It had been only recently that your friendship had bloomed into a relationship. You were happy for it. San was the perfect soft and caring boyfriend. If only you didn't have a dirty secret that involved your arch nemesis.

Your comms told you your mission was at the old Treasure Hotel. Loudmouth was up to his old shenanigans. Apparently he had used his screaming powers and made everyone vacate the hotel so he could rob the safe. Except once you got there, running through the hotel, attempting to locate Loudmouth, you found no one. It wasn’t until you burst through the door to the rooftop that you discovered him--and his long-time ally, Killjoy.

“And I’m gone,” Loudmouth announced, jumping from the top of the roof, screeching when he presumably reached the ground to halt his ascent. 

You narrowed your eyes down at Killjoy. The villain was your arch nemesis, the antithesis of your life. If there was a problem in your life, he was usually the center of it all. Of course you had to pull yourself out of bed from your boyfriend to confront the one man you didn’t want to see this evening.

“What’s this about, Killjoy?” You demanded. You summoned your power, folding one of your hands into the shape of a gun and using the other to support your wrist.

The masked villain smirked, folding his arms over his well-developed chest. “You can drop the act. I know.”

You continued to hold your stance. “If you know that I’ve plans for the mayor’s inaugural, that’s pretty smart of you. I didn’t think you had it in you,” you quipped.

Killjoy smirked. “I don’t need to be smart to know that you think of me when you stuff your pretty fingers inside of you.”

You dropped your stance immediately. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?” Killjoy cocked his head. “You don’t think about me tucking my legs around yours to hold them in place as I ease in three fingers and you tell me you couldn't possibly take that much but your pussy takes them easily. You don’t think about me whispering how it’s so dirty that a hero could be taking my fingers so well. You don’t think about me slapping your pussy and pinching your clit and--”

“ENOUGH!” You shouted. Shame was covering you from head to toe right now. That was your exact fantasy, down to how many fingers you wanted him to shove into you. How could he suddenly read your mind when he’s barely skimmed the surface before?

Killjoy hopped onto one of the fans on the top of the building and leaned forward on his legs. His crooked smile pulled to the side, revealing a dimple. “Why just think about it when we could make it a reality?”

“Abso-fucking-luytely not!” You said in horror.

A hero? Getting finger banged by her arch nemesis? Never!

“How about this,” Killjoy suggested in a smug tone, “You show me what you do when you fantasize about me…” He took a moment to spit in his palm, “And I’ll show you what I do when I think of you.”

Your jaw just about hit the floor. “Excuse me?!”

Killjoy raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think it’s possible that I think about holding you down on my dick, shutting up that smart mouth of yours, always calling me a failure of a villain?” You clenched your legs together but Killjoy didn’t miss anything. “Come on, what’s a little mutual masturbation between old time enemies, huh?”

Your body worked on its own accord, your fingertips moving to the teensy-tiny skirt of your uniform. Killjoy’s eyes are glued to the pathway your fingers follow until you’ve raised the skirt and he can see your still clothed core but…

Killjoy’s tongue came out to wet his lips. “Is that a wet spot, Loveshot?”

You pushed your lips together and nodded. “Yeah,” You let out a shaky breath.

“Show me,” Killjoy insisted, leaning forward even further, eyes glued to your crotch.

You leaned back against the rough stone of the old building, fingers hovering over your outer lips. “I--you tease me a lot,” You admitted.

“Mhmm,” Killjoy prompted you. 

“Sometimes you--” You gasped when you palmed your breast and found the nipple tight already. “--you pull and pinch my nipples and call me a superslut.”

You watched with bated breath as Killjoy peeled back the lower half of his suit and you sighed dreamily as his girthy dick was revealed. You knew there was a reason you used three fingers for him in your fantasies. “Now my turn. You usually say something about how my suit makes my dick look tiny, so when you protest, I rub my dick against your face and lips, but once my dick is seated in your hot mouth, you crumble and take it all for me.” Killjoy’s hips twitched upwards as his spit-covered hand moved up and down his dick. 

"Sometimes I get so wet from pretending my fingers are yours that I--" You bit down on your lip to muffle a moan.

"Who's gonna hear you way up here  Loveshot?" Killjoy smirked once again, "Let me hear all your desperate noises for me."

Shame still burns in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn't do this. You had San but everything was still new with him. This dirty little fantasy you've had of Killjoy had been around before you two had evolved from friends to lovers. You needed this.

You unceremoniously slapped your cunt and your head lolled back with how delicious it felt. "You tell me that I can take anything you give me, just like you know you can throw me into any situation as a hero and I can save the day."

Killjoy let out a low moan and scrunched his nose upwards. "I imagine your muffled noises as I push your face into my pelvis, making you take all of my dick. You choke and you cry and you say that you love every moment of it."

You're so worked up at this point that you could actually cum. "I'm--" You choked on the words when you watched Killjoy shamelessly spurt all over his hand.

He opened his eyes, heavy lidded with satisfaction and gave you a slow smile. "Come for me, my nemesis."

“Killjoy!” You come undone for him, pussy convulsing around your fingers and you ride them, closing your eyes for just a moment and picturing Killjoy’s smirk above you.

"Don't do that," Killjoy groaned.

You had forgotten he was still in your head. You ripped your fingers from your cunt and wiped them against your thighs to clean them. You turned to leave but Killjoy couldn't help but get a final verbal shot in.

"Where are you going, Loveshot? You're still thinking about me. You'll think about me later, won't you?" 

You threw up a middle finger as a parting gift and shifted the color of your hair and your nose. By the time you made your way to the bottom of the skyscraper, you were completely indistinguishable from Loveshot. But you were still the same person. You had just gray-area cheated on San with your arch nemesis.

Your comms buzzed and you saw you received a text you simply could not ignore:

Sannie🥺: wanna meet up? I’ll order your regular at Blue Bird.

You: just finished up, see you there

Guilt wracked through your body. If you said no San would know something was up. But could you truly sip on a sugary sweet beverage, which your best-friend-turned-boyfriend had memorized as your order, as if nothing had happened?

You stumbled into the coffee shop that you and San frequented, only a few blocks away from your shared apartment. You weren’t used to fighting crime, then having a mind blowing orgasm afterwards. Your super power wasn’t stamina, that was for sure. Your eyes sought out San immediately, who waved you over to the table he was seated at. 

“Hey Babe,” San greeted you.

“H-hey,” You replied shakily. 

San had his normal gray hoodie but it was barely zipped up and you could see a sheen of sweat covering his upper chest that peeked past the zipper. He smiled softly, “I couldn't sleep, so I went to the gym. Sorry, I must smell like a locker room.”

You laughed under your breath. “You smell like you just walked out of a perfume ad.”

San scratched the back of his head. “Careful, I think my heart just beat a little harder from that.”

You smiled painfully. You attempted to sit at the café table and faltered, barely catching yourself against the edge. Unfortunately for you, your abused clit took most of the weight as you collapsed against it and you made an embarrassingly loud and desperate noise.

San’s eyes widened and then immediately avoided your eyes. What did he just realize?!

“San?” You worried your teeth on your bottom lip. You managed to properly sit down and sip your drink to do something, anything. 

“Where did you just come from?” He asked quietly.

“Uh… you know, superhero stuff,” You shrugged.

The two of you had a strict policy of not speaking about your cases, to not muddy up each other’s professions. It just worked better that way. But San chose today to push it. He pushed up his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shifted closer to you. “Where did you come from?” he repeated firmly.

“The subway. Hostage situation. Wrapped it up pretty quickly,” You lied. 

San sat back but eased an arm around the back of your chair. “Good.”

The tension eased out of your shoulders and you leaned into San’s embrace. “I’m tired. Let’s go home.”

The two of you walked home, San’s arm still around your shoulder, you still leaning against him. You were cold and were trying to absorb some of his warmth. Not even the drink from the coffee shop could warm up the sinking feeling in your chest. Even as you got home, got ready for bed, you couldn't shake your anxiety.

Guilt is gnawing at the end of your mind and you know that there is no going to sleep like this. You turned to tell San that you’re going to wind down in the living room when he approached you from behind. His lips are like sweet caresses along the slope of your shoulder. “Come back to bed with me,” he murmured, as if he could sense you were pulling away.

“Sannie,” You turned around in his embrace, “My mind--”

San’s eyes travel over your face, a hand cupping one side. “You’re vibrating with the need to leave. Let me put you to sleep.” Gently, San tilted your head with the same guiding hand, peppering kisses along your jawline. 

Your heart soared and then crashed into your guilt. You couldn't possibly--not after what you did with Killjoy… “San, I’m really tired,” You protested.

“You’re not,” San disagreed with a rumble deep in his chest. “Even if your body may be, your mind is restless. I can help.”

San swept the straps of your pjs off your shoulders and continued to kiss down your neck to your collarbones. You can’t help but moan at the feel of his lips on your skin. Was your boyfriend seducing you?

"Where are you going, Loveshot? You're still thinking about me. You'll think about me later, won't you?"

Your body became tense with the sudden intrusion. Your powers brewed on the tip of your tongue and the pads of your fingers. You’d never use your powers against San but the need to push him off, to not mingle his touches with that of Killjoy’s was important!

“I have a better idea,” You found yourself suggesting before you could stop your treacherous tongue. “Let’s watch each other masturbate.”

San’s eyes widened considerably at your suggestion. “What?!”

Now it’s your turn to seduce. You ditched your top completely, to sit back on your shared bed and lie back, propping yourself up with your elbows. “Want you to watch me while I touch myself, Sannie,” You purred, “Wanna watch you while you touch yourself.”

San stumbled, as if his feet were moving him unbiddenly, but he made it to the edge of the bed where you were. You move so that the two of you are opposite of each other, a full view of whatever the other one’s planning on doing. You massage your breasts, making them pucker in the cool early morning air. San licked his lips like he wished they were wrapped around them. His eyes move to meet yours, waiting for you to start.

“Before we got together, when we were just friends, I used to get off to the idea of you sneaking in my bed and eating me out,” You said shakily. “I would play with my nipples and put so much lube on my pussy, using one of those flower vibrators, wishing it was your tongue. I had convinced myself that you loved eating pussy and it was something I wanted you to want with me.”

San groaned and began to palm himself through his sleep pants. “We were idiots.”

You couldn't help but giggle. “We were.”

San watched with rapt attention as you pulled aside your underwear and dipped a finger into your wetness. You spread it along your clit, moving in slow, tantalizing circles, careful of how abused your clit had been just a few hours ago by your own self torture. “Sannie?” You prompted him.

San snapped out of his deep thought while watching your finger circle your clit and pulled himself out of his confines. “I used to want you to use your power on me.” His voice cracked and he had to clear it. “Make me do whatever you want me to do. I used to edge myself for hours alone on the thought that you’d never let me cum unless it was inside of you--pussy or mouth.” San’s blunt fingernails dug into his thighs but he didn’t touch himself.

You stop touching yourself and crawled towards San’s body. “Do you need some lubrication?” 

San whimpered as you hovered over him, hands on either side of his hips. You spit on his cock, letting it slowly dribble downwards. You leaned downwards, almost as if you were going to take him in your mouth but instead you simply blew air on him. San’s hips thrust into the air, whining again. “Please,” he asked but you weren’t sure he even knew what he was asking for.

“Go ahead and touch yourself,” You encouraged him.

“ ‘m sensitive,” San mumbled, eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinked many times, a cute pout pulling at his lips.

You can’t help but grin at the admission. “Did you masturbate while I was out, Sannie?”

San’s body jerked backwards, a loud gasp in the back of his throat. “N-no.”

You dropped your body so that you could take San’s cock in your mouth with one quick dip of your mouth. San’s body strains at being encompassed suddenly by your warm, wet mouth. Tiny thrusts into your mouth tell you all San wants is to get off in your mouth and by the throb of your lower half, all you want is to give it to him. 

"I imagine your muffled noises as I push your face into my pelvis, making you take all of my dick.

How is it that you're sucking off your sweet boyfriend and you can't get Killjoy's degrading voice out of your head?

At that exact same moment, San's hands grab both sides of your head and he began to fuck your mouth. You have no time to think, only time to make sure your breaths time with the in-and-out motion of his cock down your throat. Your nose practically buries itself into San's bronze skin, mouth coming flush with the base of his cock. San had never--

Just as quickly as he held you down on him, he pulled you off of him. You stare up at him, saliva and precum dripping from your open, panting lips. “San?”

San adjusted immediately, a dopey sweet smile pulling at his lips, making his eyes become crescent moons. “I don't want to cum in your mouth.”

You're fast to climb onto his lap, arms draped over his broad shoulders. “My baby,” You couldn't help but coo, “You really do put me first, don't you?”

San smiled shyly, scratching the back of his head. “I love you, that's why.”

Your heart burst at the admission. “I love you too, sweet boy.”

The two of you moved your hips in sync, exchanging kisses and moans, as you made love in your shared bed. This was where you wanted to be: in San's arms, drinking in his noises of pleasure, being the center of his world. You didn't want to be with--

Your climax hit you like a slow burn and the first thing that tumbled from your mouth was the name you had been thinking of. “Killjoy!” you groaned quietly.

San’s body was ramrod straight even though you could feel his dick twitching inside of you, his cry cut off at what you said. You scrambled to remove yourself from his body but San wrapped his arms around you to keep you firmly in place.

“What did you just say?” San said in a voice that broke your heart into a million pieces.

“No-nothing,” You stuttered, throat full of emotions.

“Where did you go when they called you out,” San demanded again, bringing up his question from earlier.

“I told you, the subway--!” You squealed as your back hit the bed, San pinning you down with his heavy body against yours.

San reached for your hand and squeezed it tightly, intertwining your fingers with his . “You have two seconds to answer me correctly before I read your mind, love.”

“San!” You gasped and visibly reeled back. San never invaded the minds of the ones he loved, he swore he would never. 

San licked his lips, a frown furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m not asking casually.”

Your gut was telling you that suddenly your entire world depended on the answer to this question and you had no idea where it would land you. “I was on the rooftop of The Treasure Hotel.”

San cursed lowly. “Loveshot?”

Your heart was beating a mile a minute. Had San just guessed your alter ego? What did that mean? 

San let go of your hand and shakingly raised it to his face. You thought he was going to rub it tiredly over his face, somehow privy to you cheating on him with your arch nemesis. “Sannie, please, it was nothing!” You cried out.

Instead, he covered his eyes and smirked. “I already know.”

Your blood chilled in your veins. 

The masked villain smirked, folding his arms over his well-developed chest. “You can drop the act. I know.”

“Killjoy?” You yelled in disbelief.

And, you swear to God, San's dick pulsed inside of you upon hearing his alter ego's name upon your lips in your shared bed.

“No,” You shook your head. There was no fucking way your best friend, your boyfriend, was an evil villain?

Flashbacks to the supe's college you both attended, the way you were both outcasts, vaguely bringing up your powers as the reason. Bonding over wanting to overcome your natural abilities and prove to everyone you were good. 

“Someday, the world won’t judge me,” San had proclaimed. Clearly that had not crossed over very well.

It all came crumbling down around you. 

San lowered his hand and there was a glint in his eye. “If I had known…”

In some fucked up way, relief flooded you. You hadn't cheated on San; you simply masturbated with his alter ego. That was okay… right?

“Are we…” How were you going to meld the two worlds together, how could you continue to date and fuck a villain, how-- “Are we okay?”

San’s lips surged towards yours in a kiss that was desperate and messy and yet somehow full of love and adoration. “Do you still love me?” San gasped into your mouth. 

You looked up at the man who was your everything. Even now, knowing he was your arch nemesis and had been for a long time, he was even more so your everything. He was your world when you weren’t working and he was your obsession when you were. Was this going to fuck up your job? Absolutely. Was it going to fuck up your relationship?

“I love you like the sun loves the moon,” You admitted. Surely the two bodies in the sky were enemies, constantly chasing after each other, constantly fighting for time in the sky. 

A subtle shift of San’s hips had you gasping. He was hard inside of you. His eyes were alight with love and mischief and lust. “I love you like a villain loves a hero.”

And that was the end of that conversation.

taglist: @hijirikaww @flurrys-creativity @stardragongalaxy @mingsolo @k-pop-ology

special suffer with me braincell tag: @smallfrye

[ri-afan]

By the way, when ghosts and Ancients appear, should there be any visual effects and sensations? Like Frostbite? A drop in temperature? Surfaces becoming crusted with ice?

For example, a headcanon on Danny who is a cosmic Ancient, an eldritch, a cryptid, a ghostly entity. How would all of this affect him showing up next to a human?

(By the way?)

Oooh 😯 Should there be? Probably not, it would take away the whole invisibility sneak thing they got going on.

But in charged situations? If they want to tip over a bit more to spooky? If it’s just spooky for humans but it’s actually more of a ghost greeting? Hell yeah, I’ll ascribe to it. It can even be tweaked with the emotion they want to enter with, like if they’re pissed or if they are trying to calm things down or if it’s relatively neutral. Coin toss/dice roll on whether it’s different for all, similar based on core type, same for type but application is different based on strength, or just boiled down to general ghostliness.

(Or is this all based off auras and if so, can ghosts physically manipulate theirs and what’s the effects of that? Or does Everyone have one and ghosts/effected people are the only ones who can see/manipulate theirs? Oof, idk. Too many thoughts in the head!)

For one we know/could squeeze into the idea naturally from the show: Clockwork. As Ancient of Time, Clockwork likely messes with time on arrival. It’s probably the least hassle for Clockwork if it’s pausing time than anything else, hence the medallions when the ghost goes to people to pull them out of the pause. (And easiest to keep track of/not melt peoples minds with.)

For Danny… If it’s not a drop in temp because of the whole ghostly/ice core phenomenon and assuming you don’t want two of the same with Frostbite… and you want to go cosmic/space… maybe there’s auditory/speaking issues, like gaps and suppression, or a slight feeling of breathlessness because space is a vacuum? (Isn’t space cold too? Could be an interesting bait and switch if people kept thinking Ice and he pulls up one day with the power of the sun and manipulation of space.) Or if Danny is made an Ancient of Space it could also be feeling an odd pressure, like if you’re temporarily feeling too big or small in your body. Or or! Feeling gravity more or less than what you should be at the time.

If not a space/cosmic thing and you’re going with Phantom being a spirit of Protection then I would have it add a layer of feelings/reactions (specifically not changing any other feelings or otherwise altering minds) based on where the human would fall on his scale of morals: too much on the bad side and you feel trepidation and apprehension, in the good side you may feel safety, courage, or whatever. (The human’s placement on the scale would not be a conscious thing and the deciding factor is more multifaceted as Phantom grows. So long as Phantom is strong and resolute in his morals, you could probably use the reactions to gauge other people.)

Now, Danny-as-human Danny? I’m a sucker for either he’s just Some Guy or Predator Instinct, but it’s not sudden or a big rush of adrenaline. It’s something uncanny for sure because you look at the guy and you don’t know what’s wrong because visually there’s nothing wrong, but the vibes are off. (😅 scary dog vibes but the dude is like a retriever or shepherd or something — scares off the creeps at college parties and he’s long since stopped questioning why he’s invited to the parties. If he’s aware of it, he’d be the guy that sits next to or walks by a girl and then reveals that she was being stalked by a creep but it looks like he’s gone now, so have a nice day/makes sure you are safe and aware)

Like a Big Cat: it’s a predator and can kill you easily and maybe without meaning to, but also… they’re big kitties and you see videos of humans booping their snoots, holding their murder mittens, petting them and whatever. Those zookeeper-class of folks who understand the risks and works with the animals instead of against them. Some people can’t shake off that prey instinct but others are there despite it.

Hit or Miss whether aliens/super powered folks will feel it (looking at the Justice League for crossover fans) for the Human-Danny, but I’d say it’s rare for anyone to be immune to Phantom Effects.

Hope this was to your satisfaction cause this tickled my brain nicely

[khvlani]

LOML - CALEX

summary: casey and alex used to go way back then. they are lovers torn apart by fate. now that their paths cross again, casey struggles to keep in her unsaid feelings. alex tries to make sense of casey's confession.

word count: 2.4k

"can you believe it? another woman is having the eyes of the man I fell in love with?" 

alex turns to face her friend, emma, who dragged her to their college friend's baby shower. It was alex's day off, and of all the places she could be in right now, she was standing next to emma watching their old friend's baby bump be measured. "i mean, it doesn't seem fair, does it?" emma asks. alex gives her a soft smile, "life isn't fair, emma," she says as she sucks on the baby bottle where the party had placed their beer. "besides, that guy was mediocre. you saved yourself from having-" she pauses, looking around before leaning towards emma and whispering.

"-an ugly baby" she grins.

emma laughs as she hears alex whisper. "you are never not funny, alexandra," alex smiles at emma, feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket. I bet that's work again," emma comments. "probably" she sighs as she grabs her phone to check her notifications, a smile creeping up her face as she reads who it's from.

sorry to bother your rest day. need a consult on a case asap. can you drop by  the office today? that would be great

"who is it?" she looks up at emma. "just novak, she needs a consult" she replies. emma looks at her slightly amazed at the thought of it. 

"casey novak?"

"yeah. you know, red hair, green eyes, pale-" she chuckles. "veeery pale, feisty-"

emma cuts her off, "i know who your ex-girlfriend is, lex."

"oh, uh, yeah.. her" alex mutters. "you work with casey?" alex nods, taking a drink of her beer. "temporarily." emma raises a brow, not quite believing alex. "temporarily? look, i don't know what goes down in the DA's office but i damn know that's not how it works" alex sighs. "she was my replacement when the whole shooting thing happened, and now that I'm back... well, I- she- there was this- oh, forget it. it's too complicated to discuss. i still haven't comprehended the whole thing but, point is we work together and i have to go." alex forces a smile, trying to convince emma. "i hope you don't do anything stupid, or yet, I hope you don't DO stupid" alex looks at her confused. "what's that supposed to mean?" 

"I hope you don't do anything stupid with your "still existing" feelings for her, and that you don't do HER" emma states, making alex chuckle and shake her head. "I'm serious, alexandra." alex pats her on the shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile. "no stupid, I promise." 

"good, now leave. I know you've been dying to get out of here," Emma smiles. Alex gives her a soft smile before saying her goodbyes to the hosts and leaving.

casey was pacing back and forth in her office. her desk was a mess and olivia had just left her with zero leads, a case that's hard to deal with, and a "make it work, casey. it's your job." on top of that, her babysitter ditched her last minute, leaving her with her 5-year old daughter, amira, whining for mommy every two minutes in her office. "amira, can you please, just stop. stop." she snaps at the little girl in front of her. amira, clueless as to why, mommy just yelled, starts tearing up, making casey sigh. she was tired and frustrated and needed something rather someone to save her.

"did you seriously just yell at my favorite girl in the world?"

casey turns around and sees alex leaning on the door, with her arms crossed. "alex!" amira shoots up, running towards alex, hugging her legs tightly. casey lets out a sigh of relief, "you're here" she smiles. alex smiles back at her, lifting and carrying the five year old before walking towards casey. "babysitter ditched?" casey nods, looking down. "apparently, going out for ice cream with your "girlfriends" is much more better than earning money" the redhead says doing air quotes and rolling her eyes. alex lets out a soft chuckle, "she's a teenager, casey" she says as she puts amira down on her lap as she sits down. "what about-"

"he's out somewhere solving a case or whatever, i don't care, i just want everything sorted out" casey says cutting the blonde off.

"amira is his daughter and you both should talk-" alex cuts herself off as she sees casey rubbing her forehead. "migraine?" casey nods, "third one today. im being stretched out today. i need this case solved and i want, i just need something-" 

"i can watch amira" alex blurts out. 

"wait, really?" casey tilts. alex nods, “yeah i mean, youre loaded and amira is clearly bored. you can’t work well if you have a whiny five year old here” she says, playing with the little redhead’s curls. “it’s your day off, alex” the blonde looks up to face casey. “i know, that’s why i should do it. i can do the consult then i can take her home and watch her until youre done. that’s if you trust me enough to take her” alex says, earning a soft smile from casey. “that would be nice” alex smiles at her, admiring ever detail of casey’s face. she loved it when casey smiles, and she definitely sees that very same smile on amira, who is now looking at alex with a wide grin.

“let’s get that consult started then so i can take my favorite redhead home” alex grins.

it was a few minutes before twelve when alex heard a knock on her door. behind the door was an exhausted casey who managed to give out a soft smile. "i'm sorry i got off late" she walked in. "it's okay, she slept instantly after dinner. she's a pretty active kid, y'know. i don't if it's yours or cha-" casey cuts her off, "it's mine. softball player, remember?" she smirks. a smile creeps up alex's face, "right."

"have you had dinner already?" alex asks. "you cooked?" casey asks putting her bag down on the floor and sitting on the couch. "as if i can" alex rolls her eyes, grabbing the unopened chinese take-out from the table and handing it to casey before sitting down next to her. casey smiles, taking the take-out and opening it, "i thought you were feeding my daugther.." alex looks at her raising her brow, "what?" the redhead chuckles at the blonde's reaction. "burnt food" alex dramatically gasps, pretending to be offended. "shame on you...well, i wouldn't poison your daughter like that, just you maybe" alex snarks. 

"as if you haven't already" casey smirks takes another bite of her food. alex lets out a chuckle, positioning herself to face the other woman comfortably, propping her arm to support her head. "how are you casey?" she asks softly. casey pauses as she puts her chopsticks back on the take-out box, completely taken aback by the woman's blunt question. "i-i'm good. why'd you ask?"

"just asking, checking in rather"

"why?"

"casey, i asked you twice about charlie today, and you kept cutting me off everytime i ask you about him." casey rolls her eyes. "i just don't want to talk about my husband with my ex, is that so bad?" alex gives her a confusing look. "why not? i mean i'm not asking you to do something abrupt. i'm just asking about him because you're handling everything all at once when your husband should be helping you with crap" alex says. "amira is not crap" casey replies, putting down her food on the coffee table. "i never implied that. i would never think she is. she is your daughter and i know you love her" alex says, trying to find a way to defuse what would become an argument. "its- i-" casey sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "what is it?" alex asks, her eyes soft and pleading as if she's asking to help carry the burden that casey is visibly carrying. "you can always, always tell me anything casey" 

"i miss you, alex" casey blurts out softly. "so, so, so bad" her voice breaks, her eyes welling up. she had let her walls crumble and fall for alex. "casey, i-"

"you don't have to say anything. i just- i needed to say that so badly. ever since the day i saw you again, i-"

"i miss you too. just as badly" 

a tear rolls down casey's cheek. that was what she needed, all she wanted to hear. "oh, case.." alex scoots closer to pull the redhead towards her for a hug, rubbing casey's back as she breaks down on her shoulder. the warmth of her tears bleeding through her shirt. "i wish i didn't do what i did, alex. i'm sorry. i'm really sorry." casey says in between sobs. alex looks up as she feels her eyes start to tear up as well. those words felt like daggers to her heart. 

casey pulls back wiping her tears away as she looks at alex. "i never stopped loving you" casey confessed. alex's jaw drops as she heard what casey had said. "charlie was...charlie was a fling i had after we broke up" she says. "you two dated. there's a difference between fling and dating-a huge one even" alex replies. "yes- well-" alex quickly cuts her off. "what lousy excuse do you have for that?" casey sighs. "i got pregnant with amira after our thing and i stayed. that's when we started dating."

 alex sighs, shaking her head while pinching the bridge of her nose. this was new and heavy information. she didn't know how to handle something like this. "-and i couldn't get rid of the baby. not that people held me back...i just couldn't. i didn't have it in me to get rid of it" casey continues to explain. "then how did your career-" 

"we made it work. i finished law school by then. my parents told me my best option would be to marry charlie, since it was the-"

"-right thing to do..." alex says continuing casey's sentence. 

the redhead had fell silent for a few minutes. unsure of how this would play out. would she finally be with the woman she loved or would she lose her forver? either way, it looked bad. very bad. she sighed before continuing to explain, "my dad thought we should be married as soon as possible so that we can avoid amira being born before wedlock. then charlie agreed to work double shifts so i could start up my career after amira was born. when amira was two, he went on with the academy and became the cop that he is now. it... it all happened so fast. i wanted it to stop, i wanted you" at this point, casey was starting to tear up again. she was anxious and scared of how alex will react. she didn’t want much at that moment, she just wanted alex—regardless of the circumstance it would put them in.

“casey..” alex spoke. “please, alex..” casey pleads. “you know i would drop everything and anything for you right?” casey nods. “how long have you felt this way about charlie?” the green-eyed woman sighs, looking down. “a while” she replies. “and you want me? don’t you love him?” 

“i- i..i do but- but not in the way married people do. it was a marriage of convenience. i got pregnant and he married me.”

“then leave him”

“alex, i can’t just-“

“and i am not gonna settle to be the other woman, just because you’re scared to get rid of your husband.” 

“it’s not that easy, alex.” the blonde woman sighs. casey reluctantly took alex hands in hers, “i want amira to grow up with a mother and a father. i want her to know she’s loved by us. that we are both here for her” she says, her eyes glistening as she locks eyes with alex who looks down and pulls back her hands, “it’s late, casey. you should take amira home. drive safe”

“alexandra i-“

“don’t bother, casey. it won’t work. i love you, really i do, but i can’t do this. i can’t do what you’re implying i should do” alex explains, standing up from the couch. casey, who was sitting on the couch, felt helpless but huff. “it is late, i’ll go get amira and we should drive home” alex nods in response. 

as alex walks them out the house, the first fall of snow appears. “first fall of snow” casey mumbles. alex hums in response as she helps casey to her car, watching her settle amira into her car seat. as soon as the redhead was finished, she turns to face alex, pressing her lips together, hoping-no, praying she would change her mind. alex lets out a soft smile, putting her hand on casey’s shoulder. 

“in another life” she spoke.

“why not this one?” casey replies, looking at her soft blue eyes.

“life isn’t fair, casey.” alex replies.

“when will it be fair for us?” casey mumbles. alex then pulls casey in for a hug, “this is like your final year of law school, huh?” casey lets out a broken chuckle. “pretty much, yeah.”

“i love you always, alexandra” casey says.

“always in all ways” they both, surprisingly, said in unison.

no one can tell but that very day, they both lost a part of themselves, like they did a couple winters ago. both hearts were grieving and longing for each other.

as casey would say, "their love defied the gods, but it couldn’t defy fate itself." 

a few weeks later, emma had accompanied alex to her office, she “needed legal advice” was what she called that gesture but deep down she just wanted to make sure alex was okay, after the incident. 

“yeah, so the barista is hot but i think im hotter so it wouldn’t make sense if— flowers,” she turns her head to look at alex who was just as shocked. “someone bought you flowers, alex” the blue-eyes woman nods her head, walking towards her desk, taking in the beauty of the bunch. “there’s a note” emma points out. alex then takes the note and reads it.

“i have always borne the weight of my choices, up until now.. you will forever be the loss of my life, alexandra. forever loving you, C.N.”

“what did it say?” emma asks. alex looks up from the note, quickly crumpling it and throwing it inside her drawer. “thank you note from a client” she smiles. 

[noblest-roman-of-them-all]

This morning I dreamt that @martincrushcameback dropped a new au called The Missing Brother AU in which Martin and Chris were twins in college and struggling a bit in their relationship with each other.

Chris seems to be angry about something, but it wasn't clear what from the post. Martin is helping Aviva out with a project for class, which is hinted at being the creature power suited when a fight between them breaks out and Martin, while wearing a prototype of the suite (Chris might have had one too, I don't remember and reading is hard in dreams) and grabs Chris by the wrist when he tries to walk away.

The suite is accidentally activated turning both twins into a single Martin-heavy wolf. When Aviva gets it deactivated, there's still only one brother, and while he looks a little more like Chris, he still acts more like Martin.

In a panic, Aviva convinces Jimmy and Koki to help her gaslight everyone into believing there's only ever been one brother. This works apparently pretty well on everyone except Zach who had been best friends with Chris since childhood.

Martin seems to be fully aware of his brother's consciousness in his body, but without any place to go, Chris walls himself off in his brother's subconscious, very rarely trying to make an effort to communicate. When he does, it's more like he tries to full on shove Martin aside and temporarily take over their now fused body.

This is just kind of what I can remember and what I picked up from the art and animation attached to rhe post about the AU. It also seemed to imply the other villains were professors or otherwise worked in the college.

[crazylittlejester]

*slides bowl of oranges across table*

I am requesting one (1) blorbo rant, please. Any topic of your choosing

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE IM BEING ENABLED!!! thanks for the ask :3

I’m gonna yap about Time and Twilight’s relationship in my emotional support modern AU

So Time is his uncle, however Twilight’s mom (Time’s sister) died when he was one and his biological father wasn’t around as an option to care for him, so he ended up with Time and Malon, which ended up working out well cos they can’t have their own biological kids but they still got to be parents (which HAD been something they wanted, and they’d been discussing adopting a kid, they just hadn’t anticipated they’d have to adopt their nephew). They’re the only parents Twilight has ever known, and they have a very good relationship with him. They don’t keep secrets from him, he knows they’re not his biological parents, but that’s never really mattered to him because he’s never felt anything less than loved. Time answered any and all questions Twi had about his biological mom, and there are pictures of her around the house because Time misses her a lot and it was as nice for him to be able to talk about her with Twi as it was for Twi to learn about her through him

Time and Malon raised him to be kind and respectful and to think for himself, they taught him to logically think through why things might not be the best decision when he asked for something instead of just shutting him down and saying no. Which is part of why they’re so close, because Twi could always expect a reasonable explanation for something if there was something he didn’t understand and he needed to ask a clarifying question and he never had to fear getting yelled at for not understanding. They were really supportive of everything he wanted to, whether that be after school activities or him temporarily dying his hair for a week before deciding it wasn’t as cool as he thought it’d be. He wanted a piercing at 17? Time and Malon didn’t care, they just wanted him prove that was something that he actually wanted and not just an impulsive decision and that it’s something he’d take care of. Tattoo? Sure, he just had do the research and find an artist and save up the money so he had time to think about whether this is something he was serious about (and then Time paid for it anyway because it was Twi’s birthday and he had always intended to let Twi keep the money he saved for something else because it was never about who paid, it was about making sure Twi would be able to save for a big purchase while still being able to pay for snacks and gas because Time wanted to make sure he’d be responsible when he sent his kid off to college))

Twi is very very close to both of them and like all of his friends are so in awe of this because Wars (who has no father but more than enough mommy issues to make up for it) and Sky (who gets along well with the people who adopted him at 14 but has his own issues from his bio parents) simply cannot wrap their heads around the fact that Twilight’s parents are his best friends. Like Time will text Twi to let him know he’s in the city the college is in and Twi will drop everything he’s doing to go grab lunch with him, Twi will literally call Malon and ask if she wants to see a movie with him because all his friends are busy and he wants to see something. Twi never feared them growing up, they never raised their voices at him, they may have had arguments because Twi was 13 once but Time and Malon stayed very calm and just sent Twi out to go chop some firewood until he calmed down enough to have a conversation because they wanted to give him an outlet for his frustration. They raised a very well rounded, emotionally mature young man and they’re very very proud of him and they miss him because he’s been off at school :( (he sees them in person once a week and calls them every night because he is a sad wet mess and he misses them too)

(also just as a funny little side note, it is a running gag in this au that Twi was TERRIFIED of the muppets as a kid, which is 100% Time’s fault, not that Twi blames him for it but it IS his fault alskdkkd)

[bichietozier-s]

🕷️Catch You On The Web!!🕸️

An Itafushi spiderman socmed au ❤️

In which Yuuji Itadori, newly a sophomore in college who still has not a clue what he wants to do with his life, gets bitten by a radioactive spider and gains new abilities, stats and powers. He's coasting on his raw athletic ability, a full-ride scholarship handed to him despite his less-than-perfect grades, when he realizes he's got way more ahead of him than he'd ever imagined. Including, but not limited to, a newfound crush that also throws him for a loop.

you are reading:

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3

notes:

Relatively short part today 🙂‍↕️ but MEGUMI NEXT PART TRUSTTT - also, all texts are from yuuji's pov !!

It’s been two weeks since Yuuji was bitten by that god forsaken spider, and while the bite itself had simmered down and was no longer irritated, everything else about his body was becoming stranger and stranger. 

He’d noticed a bunch of little things that seemed to add up pretty quickly with how significant they affected his daily life. The sticky hands, being number ONE on that list. Seemingly the hardest thing to write off as a coincidence and something that was just… odd, it also wasn’t just something he could ignore when it happened, because then his hand was uncontrollably stuck to something, and he couldn’t UN stick it. The number of times that he’d been late to class over it this past week was becoming a nuisance because now, Nanami was stepping in to ask Yuuji if everything was going alright outside of class.

How was he supposed to tell him, yeah, everything’s just dandy! My hand just glues itself temporarily to random things at random points in the day, but I’m figuring it out!

He’d be sent to the nearest psychiatric ward. Or maybe, Shoko would pick apart his brain, which might just be worse.

Among the other things he’d begun to notice were things like an increase in his strength, which suddenly seemed to become inhuman. Yuta dropped his pencil when they were hanging out the other day in he and Toge’s dorm room, and Yuuji nearly threw his desk across the room when he lifted the corner so Yuta could retrieve it. 

“Holy shit, Yuuji, that definitely wasn’t necessary,” Yuta laughed awkwardly in shock at the desk which now sat on its side. All Yuuji could do was stand and stare at it, dumbfounded.

“I literally only meant to lift the corner, I’m being so serious right now,” his flat voice really showing that he didn’t even know what to make of the situation.

Yuuji also noticed his reaction times (mostly becoming apparent at his football practices) were increasing too. Something he wouldn’t normally even see coming because it was when his eyes were closed, or when his back was turned, he’d have taken care of before he even realized what he was doing. Like his body was reacting before he was.

The last thing was his oddly fast healing time. Bruises would only last a day or two, depending on the severity of the injury, and past that there’d be no evidence that there ever was an injury in the first place. This one especially was a bad thing for Yuuji of all people to deal with because that just meant he could be as reckless as he wanted and not face many consequences, if any at all. He was already a klutz and an airhead most of the time, so now he was just a ticking time bomb for stupid decisions. 

Since all of this started around the same time that Yuuji received the spider bite, he’s a tiny bit suspicious that the two are related, but he can’t reasonably put the two things together in a way that feasibly makes sense in his mind. Why would a spider bite give him weird superhuman powers???

author's note:

tehehe writing this is soooo much fun for me i rlly hope everyone feels enough in character :o and as a reminder if youd like to be added to the taglist pls dont be afraid to ask! :3c i do nawt bite 🫶🏻

jump to:

Prologue | Previous | Next

taglist:

@meme-ty7 @runfrme

[aliusfrater]

*approaches your inbox with sam and john pre series dynamic intent*

hiiiiii do you have any headcanons/general thoughts about sam and john hunts without dean? (we know from 3x02 it happened at least once) :]

yayyyy okay according to 15.16 vs 11.08 in conjunction with 4.13, at Most two years after sam began hunting, he realised that it wasn't what he wanted to do and attempted to diverge into an idea of his future that he enjoyed the possibility of (his lugging around college guides) but despite maintaining that idea/knowing that about himself, he had adopted/accepted the idea that his desires were irrelevant, hence his resignation about his schoolwork in 4.13 regardless of his clear interest and ability. there's a clear enough timeline of 8 -> 10 -> 14 but !! there's also the pre-series reference from 3.02, in which sam and john hunt alone without dean when sam is fifteen years old, which is the same year that sam meets amy !! makes for very interesting implications regarding sam's budding personal ideals and how they differ from his family's. at the time that's being referred to in 3.02, it's safe to assume that both sam and dean are hunting regularly, so i like to think that:

dean dropped out of highschool not long after his time in fairfax. how horribly he recalls the experience being part of it

on the contrary, while john had observed some kind of budding interest of sam's regarding tertiary education, sam was consistently insecure about it and he saw it as more of a phase rather than a genuine interest and did nothing to actively encourage or discourage it. he stopped dean from teasing him about it every now and then but that was it and sam eventually 'grew out of it'. there was an internalisation of the idea that while this was an option, it wasn't for him. sam's responsibility was to continue hunting which synonymously meant having a responsibility for the upkeep of their family and its values. sam's time in fairview solidified the idea that a goal of normalcy both in terms of his own goals as well as the idea of an assimilation into a 'normal' social life as entirely possible, and they both had the capability to include his real self and his real goals, which was something he wasn't finding at 'home'. his very short relationship with amy also threw a lot of the ethics of the job that was seemingly so intertwined into his family into question in a way he didn't initially know how to healthily confront. i like to think that their banshee job in orlando was preceded by a period of (9.19), "dragging her heels, whining, near constant, about everything... [like she's somehow above it, like she's better than us 'cause she don't feed on people.] her moping? that teenage crisis-of-conscience crap?" that prompted a solo sam and john hunt as an attempt to both steer sam away from seeing tertiary education as a goal and to develop some kind of attachment or responsibilty between sam and hunting

it was literally dean's favourite week ever <3 he's nineteen—the tension's suddenly and constantly high between sam and john at 'home' but he was also beginning to resent sam for getting a rise out of john by asking too many questions or wanting too many things that didn't matter to what john needed from them—and suddenly john's asking him to give sam some space? letting him do whatever he wanted for almost a week? he missed sam the whole time but he'd never been happier

it was mid-summer in swampy orlando and perhaps the only reason why sam and john didn't end up arguing to death was because john was doing that thing where he flips a switch and suddenly their roles are equal. very similar to 2.01 when dean isn't capable of filling his own role so sam temporarily fills it... while having john tease him and his defiance made sam so angry he wanted to throw up, it was also strangely satisfying to not have him speaking Down at him for once. if there's one thing sam could appreciate about how they fought, it's that it made them feel more equal, like he and dean always seemed to be

sam still rode in the backseat of the impala for most of the hunt, not because he specifically wanted to but because it was just muscle memory to get into the back when john was driving. when they drove at night sam would sleep in the front and put his head in john's lap

john dropped sam off at the orlando science centre after their hunt (it was a significantly smaller place in '98) then sam walked to the diner dean was supposed to meet them at after the job. the three of them shared an ice cream sunday before taking off

sam stole an sat workbook from a library before they left orlando that he worked on for the rest of the summer before taking ap classes at the start of the next semester

sam was surprised that their hunt only took five days considering how much longer john and dean typically spend on a hunt. john said that having the researcher there On the hunt sped things up

in the same vein, sam was really good at digging stuff up and finding sources that correlated, after which john would do a majority of the strategising that sam would question (often pissed john off) but ultimately resulted in a better plan

it's also fundamentally interesting to me that they, john and sam, hunted a banshee—a monstrous being who was only granted any kind of exploration once in 11.11 for eileen, whose history with this being closely mirrors sam's personal beginning of the relationship between himself, azazel, and his monstrosity—within the only reference of sam and john hunting together without dean in the whole show.