#when posing him I need to make sure nothing is halfway

[wazzappp]

Trying to figure out how he moves before trying to paint him

[hollowdeath]

some personal n s f w headcanons about harry <3

CW: fem!reader, mentions of rough/aggressive sex, breeding, & public sex

switch. literally the definition of a switch. some days he's completely stressed out and can't seem to catch a break so he takes it out on you. needy, sloppy, rushed kisses leading to aggressive groping and clothes coming off, sometimes ripped off, before roughly using you for his own pleasure. other days he's completely overwhelmed with his responsibilities and just needs to be taken care of. puppy dog eyes and shy gestures leading to soft kisses, breathy moans, and dry humping. harry begging "please, please touch me, need you so bad", whining, pleading, just so so needy and soft with you. loves when you're on top. secretly kinky: being choked, being tied up, anything to give you the control.

oral fixation. i mean, i think we can all agree that harry loves, and i mean loves, eating pussy. you might have to beg him to stop due to the overstimulation, otherwise he would be there for hours if you let him. from soft, firm kisses down your stomach to eager, loving bites on your thighs to full on making out with your pussy, he quite literally lives for the experience. and dont even get him started on face sitting...the way you look down at him and use his mouth for your own pleasure could easily send him over the edge multiple times.

breeding kink!!! this boy loves nothing more than the risk of finishing inside you, it just makes it that much more enjoyable. of course the physical sensation itself feels incredible on its own, but the intimacy it creates between the two of you is what makes it so, so hot. the trust you have in each other makes you only more attracted to the other. whether it's you begging for it or harry telling you to "take it, baby, you take me so well", its almost an unspoken agreement that it's the preferred way to finish things off for both of you. he loves stepping back and watching his cum spill out of you, though most of the time it feels so good he just stays inside of you until he catches his breath.

nudes. oh, how he cherishes his collection of dirty photos of you. like i've said before, i think harry would be really into film photography, and that would include taking photos of you in his favorite poses and positions, developing them, and keeping them in a safe place to look at when he misses you. he keeps his favorite one in his wallet; nothing too vulgar, just something sexy for when he needs a smile. sometimes he stops in the middle of foreplay and politely asks for your consent to get his camera and take a picture of you because, "you just look so lovely from right here". he'll spend the next few minutes taking photos, complimenting you between them as he gets all the right angles. "so, so beautiful. just like that. god, you're amazing."

voyeurism. not a lot of people would think harry is into public displays of affection because he's a bit shy and reserved around other people, but that only makes it more tempting for him. he's always trying to subtly touch you whenever he can get away with it. alone in an aisle of a store? he's already grabbing a handful of your ass. waiting for dinner in a crowded restaurant? his hand's halfway up your skirt. nobody's around in the forbidden forest? he's sure the creatures in there would love to see you put on a show for him. he just can't help himself sometimes, something about letting everyone know that you're his girl and that he isn't afraid of showing them really gets him going.

dirty talk. harry seems like the type of guy to talk you through it, if you know what i mean. he really takes pride in his ability to make you cum just from his words. he knows exactly what turns you on, whether its praise or degradation, and uses it to his advantage often. from "you look so pretty taking me so well, sweetheart" to "just take it like a good little slut" real quick. LOVES nicknames and titles in bed; absolutely loses his mind if you reply "yes, sir" to anything he says. again, he's a switch, so he loves when you take control and talk dirty with him too. he has a particularly soft spot for being praised because all he wants is to be a good boy for you.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

So… I already have like 70 Sterek fic tabs open on my phone (there’s so many good authors in this fandom it’s not my fault!) but I was thinking that despite some fantastic tumblr posts about it I don’t think I’ve actually read a necromancer!Stiles fic.

I went through your fabulous tag page but I didn’t see one so hopefully I didn’t miss it. If you or your loverly followers have any recs I sure would appreciate it!

(And no rush, I seriously have so many tabs but I am greedy)

Hi @arora-kayd! @kevaaronday made this list for you.

Murder, Magic and a Masterclass in Denial by Noxnthea (9/9 | 41,940 | Explicit | Sterek) “No, seriously, I need to talk to you really quick,” Stiles interrupts. “Before Peter gets out here.” 

Derek braces himself. “Okay.”

“I need you to make sure I can be alone with the body for a few minutes.” 

Derek stares at him. “You get that that’s like…a really weird request, right?”

In the three months since Derek left the NYPD and joined the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, he’s gotten used to a lot of things: he’s learned to deal with seeing Peter every day, he knows how to hide his enhanced senses on the job, and he doesn’t mind the late nights and early mornings.

One thing he’s still not used to, however, is Stiles Stilinski.

You only Live Once… or Twice by WonderWolf (6/6 | 32,949 | Explicit | Sterek) “Anything,” Derek’s eyes are determined, boring into Stiles’. 

Stiles huffs a laugh, “Careful there, big guy. Don’t want to be promising anything to every necromancer you meet. Some might ask for your soul or someth—”

“I’ll give you my soul to bring her back,” Derek says, his voice steady and strong with resolve, “if that’s what you want.”

Stiles’ mouth gapes open for a moment before his brain kicks into gear and he stutters out, “N-no, I don’t ask for that. I only ask for money.”

(Or the one in which Stiles is a necromancer who needs help stopping a rogue alpha and Derek is the solution, but at what cost?)

I See Dead People by Asteria_Star (13/13 | 15,318 | Teen | Sterek) Stiles has been able to see Ghosts for as long as he could remember. Having a ghost tell you that you are a necromancer and that the supernatural exists was nothing. What isn't nothing is trying to navigate your best friend becoming a werewolf while trying to hide what you are. 

Features Stiles and Talia having a mother-son dynamic that I didn't know I needed.

Sarcasm, Suspicion and Raising the Dead: A Necromancer’s Guide to Getting the Guy (Your Murderer and/or Your Boyfriend) by Aerica_Menai (1/1  |13,917 | Teen | Sterek) Stiles met Derek’s blue, blue eyes - still striking, even bloodshot from crying - as he slid into the other side of the booth. Immediately, the request came tumbling forward: “Could - would you bring her back?”

“I can - I will - but only temporarily,” Stiles warned.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “Whatever extra time I get with her will be - “ He took a deep breath as his voice broke. “ - appreciated,” he finally choked out.

And that’s when Stiles knew he was in trouble.

formed in the very poetry of nature by frankie_31 (4/4 | 7,984 | Explicit | Steter) Stiles can raise the dead. Stiles can put them back down. But what happens when one of his undead minions stays up?

Peter Hale is back from the dead. Kind of. And he'd like to stay that way.

Burial Rituals by aurevell (1/1 | 4,989 | Gen | Sterek) The necromancer freezes halfway over the fence, stuttering to a halt the second Derek flashes his red eyes. It’s an awkward pose to hold: leg hiked up over the waist-high bars, hands gripping the rail for balance. The fence’s wrought-iron spears dig into his calf a bit as he settles, clearly caught off guard.

“Uh,” he says lamely, his face pale in the scant moonlight. “Shit.”

Derek guards an abandoned cemetery. Stiles is the necromancer trying to break in.

[just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms]

Title: Never Gonna Happen

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 904

Warning: bit of angst, pretty on par with episodes

A/N: Saw these photos and gifs, wanted to see what I could do with them. Enjoy!

—

The SUV hadn’t stopped when Hotchner jumped out of the vehicle, immediately sprinting towards the other agents running.

“Hotch!” Morgan yelled out as he chased after him. “Hotch stop!”

The agents turned the corner into an open lot, Hotchner and Morgan immediately behind them. One of the agents tackled him, taking him down hard onto the pavement.

Hotchner drew his weapon. “Move!” He yelled at the agent. They rolled off the unsub and Hotchner's foot was immediately on the man’s throat, gun aimed at his face.

“Hotch!” Morgan yelled again as he came up behind him. “Stop! We need him,” he grabbed Hotchner’s arm. “We need him…alive. You know that.”

Hotchner looked over his shoulder at Morgan. “Fine. Watch him. He needs at least four men on him at all times. We can’t fuck this up. Y/N needs us to not fuck this up.”

Walking back to the other SUVs that were rolling up, Rossi got out of the passenger side of one, waiving Hotchner over to him.

“You look like hell. We got him. Get yourself together, Aaron. We got him.”

Hotchner gave him a nod as he walked past him to another car.

“And shave,” Rossi yelled after him.

-

Hotchner had just finished wiping off his face with a towel when he saw Emily’s name on his caller ID.

“Tell me he didn’t get away.”

“He’s in the wind,” Emily paused. “We have a lead bu-“

Hotchner hung up. He threw on a shirt, grabbed his vest, and left his apartment. He caught a look of himself in his mirror in his front hallway. The man he saw was the one he knew he needed to be. Focused. Disciplined. Methodical, so Y/N could survive this. She deserved his best.

Rolling up to the command center he got out of the car and crossed to where the team was standing.

“That’s the unit chief we know,” Rossi clasped his hand on his shoulder. “You ready?”

“I have to be.” Hotchner crossed his arms, looking at the SWAT team leader. “Explain yourself.”

“I know we fucked up, you don’t need to remind me. He had three men posing as guards. They released him once we gave them temporary custody of him while we changed over our men.”

“Reid, review the tapes. Emily and Rossi, get Garcia to review all traffic cameras in the area and get a description from the agents. Morgan…you’re with me.”

Morgan followed him as he walked towards the SUV. “You need to focus.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Hotchner spun on his heels. “You think I don’t know that every moment I was held up getting here, he was holding her?”

“Hey, you were overseas. He knew that. That’s why he timed it like this. You know that. He wants you hurting. He’s done that. Now make him pay for it.”

“You drive.” Hotchner tossed Morgan the keys.

-

“Garcia,” Emily walked into her office. “Please tell me we have something. We’ve been out all night. We need something so Hotch can calm down for even a minute.”

“I’m trying I swear. There’s just…nothing. They were good. I’m looking at it in every possible angle.”

Emily’s phone rang. “JJ please have news.”

“We have a plan.”

Hotchner tightened his tie, pulled on his blazer, and walked out of his office.

“You sure about this?” Morgan gave him a long look. “You think this will work?”

“He wants to show us what he can do. He wants to push through every boundary possible. What better than the defenses of the FBI headquarters?”

Rossi walked over. “So business as semi-usual. Go to the conference room. Pull up the case. Work it, or appear to work it, like we need a new angle. And Aaron, you’re with me.”

The team moved to the conference room as Rossi and Hotchner headed to his office. Halfway up the stairs the doors to the unit opened.

“Hotchner! You forget I got your bitch? Or do you not care?” Everyone’s eyes took in the sight of him holding you against his body, gun to your head.

Hotchner drew his weapon and moved around the desks. “Let her go.”

“No. You don’t get to order everyone around. Especially me.”

“You’re going to lose.”

“Nah, you are. She means nothing to me, why should I hesitate.”

“Aaron, please.” You locked eyes with him. “I know I’ve let you down, I’ve let you down in so many ways. Just let me go, let me fall out of your life.”

“See,” the unsub sneered. “She wants out. Right?” He pushed the muzzle deeper into your head. “She wants you to drop her.”

“No.” Hotchner paused. “She wants me to drop you….Y/N now!”

You let your body go limp as you slipped out of his grasp. As you fell to the floor Hotchner unloaded his clip into the unsub.

As soon as you heard his body drop, and the gunshots stopped, you looked up.

“I knew you’d understand.”

Hotchner ran over to you, dropping to his knees as he pulled you into his grasp.

“I’ll always understand. I will never stop looking for you. I will always save you.”

“You won’t let me go?” You whispered, hugging him as tightly as possible.

“Never gonna happen, Y/N. I’m never letting you go.”

[emlan]

Finished DLC!

Here's some Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree ramblings, spoilers under cut.

.

.

.

.

. DLC catered to me a lot since I'm a Zanzibart cutscene enjoyer who loves map exploration and Vista money shots but I'm kinda HUH-cat.clip when it comes to some new lore bits and in general the world feels divorced from main game even though main game characters and topics are around?

I don't remember how much souls DLC tied into the other story, but I'm using The Old Hunters from BB as base and it really added extra value to its world and characters and there's just nothing new of real interest in SotE from what I can see…

In a vacuum I can only appreciate even more (literal) brother on brother action but Miquella seemingly being deeply obsessed with Radahan is so out of left field??? Granted I'm not an lorester but what I remember as Miq's key things from flavor text when it comes to ties to other people is him being sad about being unable to cure Malenia of her rot and also sad about not being able to grant Godwyn his true death. The only ties to Radahan is by proxy of his sister fighting him? (Was she even fighting him just to bring bro his crush to him? This makes Caelid getting nuked by her even more of a waste.)

It's so out of nowhere that the Epic Prime Version of him comes off as a cheap soyjak pointing bit pandering to Radahan fanboys (pretty sure he's like no1 fav guy for players right), but fanboys will obviously not be happy about him just being a hollow shell again (?) that might not have wanted anything to do with Miquella (?) so I just can't see this as satisfying for ANY kind of player even on a full Gamer Dude to Deranged Fujoshi spectrum? I imagine deep lore enthusiasts also feels a bit… Ambushed.

I'm not against Miquella doing dark unpleasant or just stupid desperate acts since it was already a popular theory that he was a brainwasher type, but the issue for me is that I'm not sure if this Miq/Rad union is "intended" to be read in such a twisted way even when it's the only way I can read it.

Though I guess the fact general consensus going from "wow Mohg is so messed up claiming Miq no matter Miq's consent" to "wow Miq is so messed up claiming Radahan no matter Radahan's* consent" is poetic….?

*I'm writing Radahan here but really it's also a synonym for 'Mohg' considering he's the one getting desecrated the most.

I'm sure I'll end up watching some vid or writeup making pieces fall into place later but I can't believe Miyazaki is handing me visual age gap brother incest and all I can do is force a strained smile in response!!!

Anyway general whining time:

As much as I love filling out up the map I feel there was too much big "empty" areas. Climbing the dragon mountain was the worst presentation of anything I've seen in a FS title, extremely cheap unfinished filler feeling with the spirit jumps instead of at least adding some kinda atmosphere like the open flower/gravestone fields. The Abyss gimmick overstayed it's welcome since it's too miserable checking if you missed a shiny somewhere without your horse, but at least the stealth parts was such a non-issue it might as well not be there.

While I like that you can see several inaccessible areas from where you stand, and I do think it leads to some fun moments when you're taking a random path halfway across the map and ends up on the other side as an a-ha moment, it was a bit frustrating not being able to tell more clearly how to reach sections. Plus I would've died 10000 times from drops if it wasn't the fact Rainbow Stones protected me from making bad choices.

What mindbroke me most was trying to get into the flower field area north east, having an "oh boy, beating this guy will let me reach it for sure!" moment for both Gaius and Sunflower was such [record scratch SFX]. I did figure posing in front of the statue was most likely the entry afterwards but somehow I had missed the gesture needed (most embarrassing DLC moment considering I tend to fine comb pretty well and the gesture pickup is just sitting there out in the open………. why am I even admitting this shameful thing). Watching trees get knocked over from something moving under the water in the church district was really cool and unnerving and then you realize it's just branch dragon number 800……………..

The wicker men has a great design but fighting them was either a boring slog or a frustrating jankfest trying to toss the bombs right. Peeved that you HAVE to use a furnace pot for the sleeping one blocking the ruin puzzle, hefty should've been fine too.

Bosses are too hectic/aggressive for my taste but that's just business as usual for ER so whatever, last boss really is way too punishing compared to other Hard bosses tho, in fact I just watched ending on YT since I'm stuck still on them :V Camera also makes a glorious return as the toughest challenge of them all.

Think my biggest highlights was seeing the bizarre finger/tongue path under the church and the finger mom boss visual itself and the black humor of the miserable living jars stumbling around with the pot on their head. Ansbach is a hot new waifu and it's very precious how such an upstanding man stays all-in loyal to a Deranged Satan (said lovingly) soooo cute you actually get a "Um, so about how Mohg died…👉👈" prompt with him. There was more NPC voice lines than I expected which was fun. St Trina's design was very neat and shoujo manga. Having to sip syrup 4-5 times instead of the classic Third Time's The Charm is a crime however and I missed making the Trina fanboy jealous until it was too late :/

The open world for all of Elden Ring is such an incredible experience that I'm happy I got to play and I had such a good time and I can't imagine any other studios will be able to reach these map heights but I also hope they never make an OW game again because it's too much when you "need" to replay it.

[tinydooms]

The Misadventure of the McCanns, the Princess, and Rick O'Connell: A Bullet Point Story Of AU Proportions, Dastardly Deeds and Shocking Heroism That Will Chill, Thrill, and Surprise You! Part One.

Cairo, January 1924

One morning at the beginning of the year, two visitors from Rick’s past show up at the door of the Zamalek house. Rick is the one who answers the door. He opens it, sees the men on the step, and slams it shut again, locking it for good measure. 

“Come on, O’Connell!” hollers the man on the other side, “open up!”

“Go away, Hub!” Rick yells, leaning against the door as if holding it shut, “I’m married now! I have a wife and a brother-in-law who thinks he’s good at cards and I’m halfway through a B.A.! I don’t do dangerous anymore!”

“Oh yeah? Rumor has it you were involved in that weirdness here a few years back!”

“Not willingly!” Rick yells. 

“Damn it, Rick, open the goddamn door!”

The noise has alerted Evie, who ambles into the front hall to see her tall, strong, brave husband cowering behind the door. She asks who it is. 

“Hub and Garth McCann!” Rick says, which explains exactly nothing. “Guys I knew in the Legion. Crazy motherfu–heroic types. They attract trouble like bees to honey. I told them to go away.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Evie says, reaching past Rick to open the door.

This is so patently unfair that Rick just glowers as his gorgeous, smart, librarian-with-absolutely-no-sense-of-self-preservation wife invites Hub and Garth McCann into their home and offers them coffee and biscuits. He glowers at them as they eat and drink and make small talk with Evie. He glowers when Hub sets his coffee cup down and addresses him. 

“I need your help,” he says.

“Absolutely not,” Rick replies.

“Told you so,” says Garth.

“What kind of help?” asks Evie.

The very long and convoluted story that follows boils down to this: there’s this girl (because of course there is) that Hub is madly in love with (why wouldn’t he be?), but she’s promised in marriage to a certain sheik (naturally) and Hub wants to rescue her from the harem and marry her himself (because of course he does). He and Garth have the whole thing worked out: they’ll infiltrate the palace and rescue the princess, and all Rick has to do is pose as a wealthy American tourist on vacation and spirit them all away in his aeroplane to Egypt and safety. 

“I haven’t got an aeroplane,” Rick says. 

“I’ve got a guy,” Hub says.

“Of course you do,” Rick says. 

“Of course we’ll help!” says Evie, because of course she does. 

Rick snarls.

“We’re going to die,” he says later, after the McCanns have left. “We’ve been married less than two years and you’re sending me to my death.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Evie replies. She’s already packing him a bag. “You won’t be anywhere near the danger. The whole point of you being there is to be the secret rescuer, not the public one. You’re doing the sneaky bit.” As if there is anything sneaky about kidnapping a princess and fleeing a country.

 It isn’t kidnapping, per se, Evie points out. It’s a liberation. No woman should be forced into a loveless marriage, and Hub McCann seems to be a stand-up man. When he’s not getting into brawls, Rick thinks but doesn’t say. He still remembers the state he was in when he met Evie and Jonathan. He sighs. This was supposed to be a short research trip: some papyri Evie needs for her dissertation are housed in the Museum of Antiquities library, and she has a months’ leave to go study them. And now he’s being bullied into another adventure he didn’t ask for. Damn Hub. This girl must be pretty incredible. 

(In his heart of hearts, Rick knows that if the situation was reversed and it was Evie they were rescuing, he’d be just as desperate as Hub is, and just as willing to rope in whoever it took to succeed. Hell, he already has.)

“If I die,” he grumbles to Evie, “at least make sure they grant me my B.A. posthumously.”

“I will not,” says Evie, “because you are not going to die.”

So two days later he finds himself stepping off a small passenger ship and going through customs in Saudi Arabia, wearing a very fine linen suit and a pair of short boots: not the ideal outfit for a rescue mission, but he looks dapper as hell, so Rick is willing to let it go. He’s got to meet up with Hub’s guy at the local airfield, to play the part of a rich tourist hiring a small plane to take them around and ‘examine’ potential oil fields. So far, so easy. He gets to the airfield and meets up with the pilot–and it’s Izzy Buttons.

There is mutual swearing on both sides. 

See, a long time ago when Rick lived in Morocco and worked for an antiquities dealer, Izzy Buttons used to occasionally transport heavier pieces around in his biplane, mostly from Marrakesh to Casablanca or Agadir. One time they had to sneak out a legally-purchased piece from a bank that had refused to give it up to its purchaser, an affair that included several bribes, two days undercover work, and a belly dancer as a distraction. It was a perfect heist–or would have been if Izzy Buttons had been on time for the pickup. He’d been shot in the ass in the melee and has never forgiven Rick for it. 

So there is some antipathy on both sides as they set out to Hub McCann’s girlfriend’s fiance’s palace in an oasis in the middle of the desert. But everything goes well: Rick arrives in the little village surrounding the palace and puts it about that he’s a wealthy American businessman on holiday, wandering about making inane remarks about all and sundry, and pretending he doesn’t speak Arabic. The charade is a success. When the McCanns show up, badly disguised as Bedouin, he ignores them until Garth seeks him out that night to give him the message that the rescue mission will take place the night after next, so be on the plane, and for heaven’s sake, don’t go anywhere near the palace. 

Rick has no intention of going anywhere near the palace, and so of course the next day an invitation to visit the grounds is extended to this most illustrious of American oilmen. Rick sighs, and longs for Evie and his B.A. work, and accepts the invitation.

The palace gardens are beautiful, the Sheik very generous and affable in humor. He is to be married, he tells Rick, for the third time, to a beautiful and accomplished young woman. About that, Rick thinks, wondering if the Sheik knows anything about the McCann brothers’ heist happening right under his nose. He suggests that the Sheik examine his lands to see if there is oil under the sand. Maybe untold wealth and riches will make up for the gross insult about to be perpetrated. So, so far so good. It isn’t until evening falls and Rick is wandering in the extensive gardens, casing the joint so to speak, that things take a very sharp left turn. 

Someone steps up behind Rick and before he can turn around or shake them off, a handkerchief dosed in chloroform is clamped over his mouth and nose. Son of a bitch, Rick thinks, and passes out. 

[specialinterestshows]

Eat and toke with the Judgment Day in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic.

Warnings for this section: Cannabis (weed)

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 47 of ?): A Dish Best Served Rolled

Licking your lips, you thank the server as your order is placed in front of you.

"Finally," Dominik says excitedly, rubbing his hands together.

"What did you get?" you ask him, curious.

"Chicken tenders," everyone except you and JD says in unison, surprising the two of you, who look at each other awkwardly.

"They're the only thing he eats when we go out," Rhea sighs, looking at Dom with an amused smile as he digs in. Grinning at your metamour, you start on your own dish. A contented silence falls over the table, occasionally broken by the clinking of silverware, as everyone enjoys their food and drinks. Dominik finishes eating first, looking extremely satisfied.

"You ate that way too fast," you tell him, not even halfway through your own meal, "How do you not have a stomach ache?"

"Years of practice," Dom replies, looking very pleased with himself.

"Yeah: practicing smiling through your stomach aches," Rhea says, making him grin sheepishly.

Damian finishes his plate next, hurriedly chugging his water and wiping his mouth before standing and addressing Rhea.

"Need anything from the car?" he asked her, taking the keys out of his pocket.

"My messenger bag?" she requests, smiling as Damian nods and saunters over to the rental, his walk leisurely despite the hurried pace in which he finished eating.

Finn sighs, watching Damian walk away. JD claps a hand on Finn's shoulder, gently but firmly. A smile makes its way onto his face briefly before he notices you watching, quickly shrugging off JD's hand and clearing his throat. JD looks a bit hurt, but says nothing. You feel bad for having watched the two upon seeing JD's puppy-dog eyes, thinking of a time when you had been in a similar situation. Turning instead to look at your girlfriend, you take another bite of your food as Rhea wipes a few crumbs off Dominik's face and kisses his cheek before letting him finish his soda. You had never expected to feel so happy watching the woman you loved being sweet and affectionate with the man she loved, but you supposed what mattered most to you was that you were also important to her, and that she was happy.

"What is it, beautiful?" Rhea asks, noticing the pause in your eating as you look at her and Dominik.

"You guys are just so cute!" you say, smiling harder when Rhea poses and Dom blushes slightly.

"You should date us or something," Rhea jokes, grinning.

"Us?" you and Dominik asked in unison, confused.

"Too much?" she asks after giggling furiously at your reactions. You nod, but Dom seems to be considering it, nodding along with you once he sees you don't seem to be interested. Rhea laughs harder and you can't help but smile at the lovely sound.

"What's so funny?" Damian asks, walking up with Rhea's bag.

"Only two of the three of 'em want to form a triad," JD McDonagh replied, surprising everyone and making Dominik blush and look away, embarrassed.

Acting like he hadn't heard anything, Damian handed Rhea her bag, ignoring the look she gave him that seemed to say "don't be rude!"

"Hey, chica," Damian said, tapping your shoulder and looking around before slyly pulling a blunt out of his pocket, "Quieres?"

"You already know me so well," you reply, returning Damians mischievous smile before looking over at Rhea.

"If he's smoking, it means I'm the one driving us to the next location," she says, shaking her head as she plugs her phone into a portable charging block from her bag, "But you enjoy, love."

Taking one last sip of your beverage, you stand up and kiss Rhea before offering your car as the location for your smoke session with Damian and leading the way.

Feeling the vibration of your phone, you pull it out, expecting to see a text from Rhea. Instead, your phone reads: Text from: Liv Morgan. "Checking to make sure you're still alive! If I don't hear from you I might be legally required to tell WWE" The text ends with an emoji with its tongue sticking out.

Sighing, you quickly message back: "Not dead, all good!" before you and Damian reach your car and you unlock it. Getting in the driver's seat, you pull your sunshade off the floor in the back and prop it up against your windshield with the sun visors before Damian slides into the seat next to you. Just as Damian pulls out the blunt again, your phone buzzes. Opening the compartment underneath the radio, you pull out a lighter you kept there, offering it to Damian and ignoring your phone.

"Better check that and make sure it's not Rhea," Damian says, taking the lighter from you, "Our Eradicator makes it look like nothing phases her too much, but she's head over heels for you, chica."

Nodding, you check your phone as Damian brings the blunt to his lips and lights it.

Text from: Liv Morgan. "Glad you're not dead! You're way too cute to die" The message ended with a winking emoji and you felt your face getting warm.

[end part forty-seven of ?]

Part 48: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/729576237256851456/absolute-smokeshow-part-48-of-in-the-hot-box

-

Tag List (thank you!)

@cherryberryshine , @littlemiss-fanficlover , @elisewithak , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domlynch

[reamnosart]

So I figured out how to install unity explorer and poke around in the upturned. I haven’t found anything super exciting yet, but I have been trying to gather screenshots of character models as art references, and to possibly update the wiki with more information. I’m not familiar with game programming or programming in general, so im describing things using my very limited understanding of the unity explorer program and my lack of game design knowledge. I did find a couple things I will add to my drawings, though!!

Here’s a couple things I’ve found so far:

-in the challenge room floor you can find remnants of other enemies that were meant to appear. Every enemy type in the game has an option you can toggle on or off using bepinex. The only ones I’ve gotten to work so far are pajama man, ceiling hand, patricia and the chucklers. Options for shrimp and ribcages exist as well, but I didn’t see where they spawned

-also on the challenge floor, the voice speaking to you is not Sobbergritch, but Ik (technically; I can’t remember which voices noises play when the text pops up). Sob’s model isn’t on the floor, but Ik’s is. His face is covered with a black box like Sob’s was before floor 1434.

-I need to revisit this, but in The Morning level, I was only able to spot the horse’s model offscreen, but not the rider. I think the rider might use the same model as the traveler? I want to dig into this further and see if they’re the same

-sobbergritch is purple. Like, really, really purple. He’s nothing more than a skull and some ribs

-Ik’s model is on (almost?) every floor offscreen. He sits there dancing back and forth in front of the blue background, usually just under the first couple rooms on the floor. I was most excited to check this out since you can usually see his hand clip into frame during dialogue sections, and I was curious about his pose. This is also true for the lobby, where there’s an Ik offscreen alongside the Ik hiding behind the counter

-Ik’s head, neck and hand are all smooth and untextured, while the suit and sleeve have a woven texture. This isn’t very interesting until you realize that the woven texture goes allll the way down Ik’s body, and there’s some red poking out underneath. I’m not sure why I assumed the suit would stop halfway down his body, but it does mean I need to make some changes to the Ik puppet!!! I might start drawing him with red socks too. I want to add to his character design so little things like these are very exciting!!

-there used to be chocolate bars in the power plant level

[reverend-dog]

Beltane

“Call me,” read the text.

Colleen’s heart skipped at the sender’s name. Moesha held starring roles in many of her fevered fantasies, but waking life thus far proved too terrifying a stage to act them out. And while their interactions were cordial, Colleen knew she served no more than a bit part in Moesha’s life. How could it be otherwise? Moesha glided through life like divinity come to earth. She set things to smolder wherever she deigned to bestow her presence. And yet she maintained a personable grace that enchanted everybody.

Colleen was… Colleen.

As she tapped the number in her directory, Colleen realized this was the first time for her to receive and make a call to Moesha. What might prompt such an occasion?

“Colleen?” Even distorted by electronics, hearing her own name spoken by that contralto purr twisted Colleen’s chest into sweet, tickling knots. Her ears roared so loud, she almost did not hear Moesha’s next words. “Oh, thank God! I need your help! You remember last Beltane?”

“I remember.” Colleen’s invitation to the festival rested solely on her cinematic skills. One stein of beer got pressed into her hand, but otherwise nobody seemed inclined to extend her participation beyond documentarian. Which, Colleen conceded, kept well within her comfort zone.

“Can you come over?” Moesha begged. “And bring the videos with you? Right now?”

Colleen looked down at her feet, felt their yearning to escape their prisons of leather and hard rubber after a day of stocking shelves. Her shirt clung under her arms and in the small of her back, and her hair, well, that was another level altogether. “Sure,” she answered, and blinked at how good the word felt in her mouth.

“Great!” Relief sang in Moesha’s reply. “You… you know my address? You’ve never been here, have you?”

“I haven’t,” Colleen confirmed, “but I know the address.” Wow, did that sound creepy or what? “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you!” Moesha sighed. “Oh, thank you!”

Moesha’s house perched on a hill in a neighborhood that used to be old money, but retained its grace after the rich families left. Colleen parked her scooter at the curb and hiked up the brick steps to the front door. Before the knocker’s first echo died away, the door swung open.

Colleen had never seen Moesha in such a state. In public, Moesha always presented a portrait of immaculate grooming and wardrobe, even at such informal occasions as beach parties. Yet somehow, even with bed hair, no makeup, and dressed in an oversized t-shirt and tights, she entranced. The only thing that marred the image of disheveled perfection was the rounded lump of her belly.

“Yah,” Moesha acknowledged, as she noted Colleen’s stare at her midsection. “This is what I need your help with. Come on in,” and she stepped back inside with a beckoning hand.

“I don’t….” Colleen stammered as she stumbled across the threshold. “Beltane was only three weeks ago, and you’re -- “ Her mouth refused to voice the idea.

“I know!” Moesha snapped, and pressed a hand to her face. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little freaked out, you know?” She shut the door and led Colleen down a short hall to a salon lit with afternoon sun. “I started feeling it about two weeks ago, but put it off as period swelling.” She made a noise halfway between a snort and a laugh. “Only, I wasn’t due. Then when I came due, nothing, except I’d gained two inches! So I took a test, and, well.” She waved a hand at the swelling. “And now it’s three weeks, and I look three months!”

Colleen’s brow furrowed. “And you think it happened at Beltane?”

“It had to be!” Moesha retorted. “That’s the last time I had sex, and the first hetero in six months!” She collapsed into a chair posed next to a dining table, and crossed her arms over her belly. “There was a guy there,” she recalled, her own brow set in concentration. “I’d never seen him at any of the other parties. There was something about him….” She locked Colleen’s eyes with her own. “I didn’t have that much to drink,” she declared, “and I never do one-night stands.” She looked away. “But somehow --”

Colleen nodded, and began to unpack her backpack. “We’ll find him,” she promised as she drew out a compact flat-screen monitor.

“You…” Moesha paused, and her voice shrank. “You believe me?”

Colleen offered a smile as she extracted more equipment from her bag. “Why would you lie about something like this? And like this? To me?” She set up the monitor and laptop, and plugged a cable between them.

Moesha cocked her head. “What do you mean, to you?”

Colleen shrugged, unable to choke back a tiny, bitter mote. “I mean, why bother?” She focused her eyes on the laptop as she powered it up. “It’s not like anybody cares what I think.”

Silence claimed the room. Colleen noticed when it lasted longer than a few moments, and looked up. Her heart twisted to see tears on Moesha’s cheeks. I’m sorry,” she offered. “I didn’t mean --”

Moesha shook her head, and a sad smile curved her exquisite lips. “We’ve all been such cunts to you, haven’t we? Good old Colleen. First to volunteer, never complains, always ready to help. And we – I treat you like a piece of furniture.” She sucked in a ragged breath, and wiped her cheeks. “Why do you put up with it?”

Colleen scowled, face fixed on the laptop screen. She made a show of searching her archives, though she knew the exact location of the file she needed. “For everybody else,” she mumbled, “so they don’t suspect.”

“Suspect what?”

Colleen drew an exhaled a breath of her own. “Why I do it for you.”

Moesha’s breath caught, and Colleen felt the force of her stare. She heard Moesha move, but kept her eyes locked on the monitor. Hands cupped her face, soft, warm, strong. They twisted her head to one side, and for an instant she smelled Moesha’s breath before her lips mashed against Colleen’s. She felt an instinct to flail, but locked herself in place. She pressed into the kiss, and a thrill jolted through her as she felt Moesha’s tongue brush her lips.

They stayed like that for uncounted moments, and both panted when they sat back in their chairs. “Just so you know,” Moesha announced in husky tones, “that was not hormones. It wasn’t the moment.”

“For me, either,” Colleen whispered back. She cleared her throat and sat up in her chair. “Now,” she resolved, “let’s find your horned god.” She clicked a file icon, and an image filled the larger monitor.

Moesha dragged her chair over next to Colleen’s. She sat off-center, so her hips pressed against Colleen’s. To Colleen, the simple contact sent continual thrills of delight throughout. She forced herself to concentrate on the video.

For awhile they sat, faces intent on the recording. Colleen adjusted the brightness and contrast, so the dim firelit images gained clarity. Celtic rock blared while a massive bonfire blazed in a stone pit. Men and women, some dressed for the occasion but most in normal clothes, laughed, toasted, danced, drank. Couples or small crowds sidled off. Some returned after short intervals, others did not show up again.

“There!” Moesha pointed. “There’s me!” Her finger hovered over the screen. “There’s Mikah, Joan, Lee… there he is!” She leaned forward, brows knit. “Wait… does he… he didn’t have horns!”

Colleen froze the image and magnified it. Grainy and distorted, still unmistakable. “Well,” observed Colleen, “he does here.”

“But he didn’t!” Moesha protested. “I’d had a few, sure. But I’d have remembered something like that!” She turned suspicious eyes to Colleen. “You said we’d find a horned god,” she accused. “How did you know?”

All the dizzying euphoria drained out of Colleen. She shrank in her chair as she met Moesha’s glare. “It was just a joke,” she claimed. “I mean, it was Beltane, and this is – supernatural.”

“It was just a party!” Moesha countered. “Beltane was just an excuse for a summer picnic! It wasn’t a real ceremony!”

“Not to us,” Colleen agreed, “but the tradition goes back centuries. Maybe, to him,” she pointed at the screen, “it still means something. I mean, there are f-fertility aspects to it.”

Moesha sat back in her chair with an explosive sigh. “Great,” she grumbled. “Of all the people partying for Beltane, I get impregnated by a Celtic god.”

“It may not be just you,” Colleen offered. “Horned gods are known for their libido.”

“But why didn’t I see his horns that night?” Moesha pondered.

“Glamour,” Colleen explained. Her voice held unusual authority. “He made people see what he wanted them to see. But glamours don’t work on cameras.”

Moesha turned a glare of fresh suspicion on Colleen. “How do you know that?”

Colleen did not wither this time. “Before I explain,” she said, “there’s something you need to understand.” She inhaled deeply. “If the gestation keeps up at this rate, you’re going to give birth in about six weeks. Your baby will be unusual, with unusual senses, abilities, and needs.” She paused. “You probably won’t be able to abort it, and adopting it out will be a disaster. You’ll need help raising it, from somebody who understands what’s needed.”

Moesha rubbed a hand over her belly. Her face reflected the struggle in her mind, two-plus decades of life up-ended by three weeks of strange but undeniable experience. “You say that,” she murmured, “like you know somebody.”

“I do,” Colleen nodded. She wove her fingers in the air, and chanted a string of unintelligible syllables. Faint streams of light trailed her fingers, to illuminate a small circle with sigils inside. A faint breeze stirred the air, with a slight cinnamon scent. “On the bright side, you probably won’t need to worry about a custody fight. Guys like him are the original deadbeat dads.” The quirk to her mouth as she offered that small comfort faded. “If you want,” she offered, “I’ll take it with me. Raise it as my own.”

Moesha’s stare lasted long enough to make Colleen fidget. She felt naked, under a spotlight, awaiting judgment. When Moesha spoke, her words were too faint for Colleen to hear. “What?” Colleen asked.

“No.” Moesha smiled. She reached one hand out to cup Colleen’s cheek. With the other, she drew Colleen’s hand to rest on her belly. “I want this. I don’t know why, but I do. But only if I can have it with you.”

Colleen searched Moesha’s eyes, and saw only tenderness, openness, and love. She spoke aloud the words she’d rehearsed so many times since her first sight of Moesha. “I love you.”

Moesha’s smile was incandescent. “Forever,” she replied.

[katkitpaddywick]

🐣, 🤡, 🎬

🐣 Whose fledgling would you rather be?

My first thought was Armand, because he's awful and I love him, but I think he's clingy enough that I'd need to be able to take my own space if we wanted to keep a positive relationship, which is hard when they're your maker. That said, I DO want him blocked out of my head! tbh, probably Madeleine. She's the least fucked up out of all of them from what I've seen, and I think she'd respect my space 😭

🤡 Favourite headcanon of your favourite character.

Not sure where this sits between canon and headcanon (I haven't seen it explicitly mentioned by the show but it feels implicit), but I love all the stuff around Armand being a painter's model and how that shapes his behaviour now - his stillness, the way he always seems to hold himself in some sort of pose or angle unless he's extremely distressed... I haven't seen anyone mention this yet but I'm almost certain his flight/flight response is "freeze" - unless he's forced into action, he always waits such a long time to make sure the chips have settled before he'll do anything, and I think in a weird indirect way that also comes from that same model background.

also daniel has blackout blinds in his room because armand will come in during the day and open his coffin just to stare at him like a creepy fucking cat, and he forgets the sun can still hurt daniel

🎬 Do you have any wild theories for the upcoming season?

i think we see sam DJing at all of lestat's show afterparties and because he's wearing the fucking helmet it doesn't get revealed until halfway through the season. this is grounded in nothing but the fact that i WANT it

[barbwillbrb]

Waiting on my car to get fixed, so here is more info-dumping about my tavs Rackal and Clairice, along with the slight AU I’m working with:

- The monastery got destroyed. They had the artifact to prevent it from going boom in their inventory. Clairice saw the shiny and yoinked it. Cue prolonged eye contact.

- Rolan joins the crew in Act 2 post Last Light Inn to find the Nightsong, having been convinced no one good is associated in its acquisition and there has to be something fucking wrong with Lorroakan if that’s the case.

- Per my silly Rolan headcanon post, he learns he’s a sorcerer. Specifically a Wild Magic one—it just turns out when you are exceptionally good at suppressing your emotions/dealing with panic attacks on the regular, you can be pretty good at controlling your surges. Who knew!

- That is until the resident know-it-all-wizard, meaning very well, decides to dump that info on him without much precedence. Rolan can only take so many life-altering changes in a week, and sets off a metaphorical bomb in camp that may have burned down two tents (causing Minthara to switch up her hairstyle in the aftermath), turned Scratch blue, and polymorphed Rackal into a sheep.

- The Ketheric Thorm/Myrkul fight poses a moral conflict for Rackal, as he very much understands why Ketheric succumbed to Shar and isn’t sure whether or not he would do the same if the opportunity had presented itself at the wrong time. He is propositioned with the opportunity to bring Meirin back and switch sides, but ultimately chooses not to. I have not decided yet if Ketheric lives in my AU, so that’s still up in the air.

- Clairice’s major turning point is Last Light Inn. During the bulk of Act 1, she isn’t really grasping the scope of the trouble they’re in (although tbh it’s just a coping strategy she’s barely aware of; think blind, “it is what is is and we can’t change it!” type optimism/recklessness). Deep down, I think she really believes that they’ll find some cure in time and that the tadpole thing is really a lot smaller in scope (like okay, there are people popping up with these things according to Halsin/Nettie, but it surely can’t be that many, right? Maybe it just seems like a lot because the Grove is so isolated [don’t ask her what a reasonable number of tadpole infections is]? This has got to be just some weird shit, right?). But then suddenly they’re in the Underdark and all these Twat Souls are here apparently kidnapping genius gnomes who can build bombs, and now there are fucking Gods getting involved?! And then they’re crossing into the Shadow-Cursed Lands and see all the dead tieflings and nothing is okay oh dear god no what was the fucking POINT why do this hero nonsense?! I think what actually makes her kinda snap out of it/get her head back on is 1) Raphael and Mol (something about a devil going after a desperate kid in the middle of a battle torn refuge camp just puts everything into perspective and switches her from “eh, he’s just kinda silly” to “i needed him dead yesterday”) and 2) the assault on the Inn. From there on, she goes from “we are so so fucked” to “GET FUCKED.”

- Without a singular doubt, Clairice hates Raphael. I think they have a pretty interesting dynamic from Act 1-LLI, and even after she sets herself against him she knows to play the long game. Getting into the House of Hope is less about the hammer for her and more about getting Mol’s contract/causing as many problems as possible.

- Clairice and Minthara get together halfway through Act 3, sometime shortly after Clairice’s rescue from Orin.

- Rackal and Rolan also get together in Act 3, and to everyone’s fucking horror they’re worse than Clairice and any of her liaisons.

- Rackal goes to Avernus with Wyll and Karlach, with the trio returning a year later when her heart’s fixed. He keeps in contact with both Rolan and Clairice through sending stones, and returns to Rolan when he’s back.

- Clairice meanwhile is off helping Minthara deal with her bullshit down in Menzoberranzan. She’s causing chaos and having tons of fun.

[enchantingjacarandas]

Clumsy

Pairing: Lee Know | Minho / Han | Han Jisung

Tags: High School AU, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Getting Together, Accident Prone Jisung

Other Sites to Read on: Ao3 or Wattpad

Words: 3,759

A/N: I hope you enjoy the photos. I was losing my mind on finding pictures that fit the story while also making an aesthetically appealing collage.

Scissors made the only noise in the room, as the students continued working hard. Jeongin and Jisung were staying after class to help their math teacher decorate and prepare materials for her room. She had just gotten halfway through the multitude of stacked tests on her desk.

“Okay guys, I’m gonna run to the restroom real quick, I’ll be back in a little bit.” She proceeded to swiftly exit the room. 

Jisung turned to Jeongin. “Do you really think she’ll give us extra credit for helping her?”

“I sure hope so,” Jeongin sighed, “I haven’t gotten a one hundred on any math tests this year, so I kinda need it.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly at his failure.

“True you definitely do need it,” Jisung joked.

Jeongin clicked his tongue and went back to cutting out the laminated papers. Jisung placed down his finished cutouts. Having nothing else to do, Jisung’s mind started to wander. He recently had his eyes on someone he saw Seungmin talking to in the hallway. Jisung was pretty sure his name was Minho, and Minho appeared to be close to Seungmin. The sight of Minho laughing at something Seungmin said replayed in his head. 

Jeongin rolled his eyes. “Hey! Don’t just stare off into space!”

Jisung blinked away his thoughts. “Oh sorry Innie, I didn’t even realize.”

Jeongin slightly shook his head at the nickname. “Staple this border she wanted on the wall.” Jeongin pointed towards the wall the teacher spoke about earlier.

Jisung grabbed the border saying, “This thing?” He then glanced up at the wall. “But you’re taller. Why don’t you do it?” 

“It's your punishment for zoning out,” Jeongin narrowed his eyes.

Jisung knew he was mad so decided not to argue more. “Fine.” Looking around for a way to reach the top part of the wall Jisung said, “Hmmmm I guess I can use this chair.”

Jeongin looked at the chair in question. “It looks a little unstable, are you sure? You know how accident prone you are.”

Jisung stared at the chair once again. “It will be fine.” He got up on the chair, slowly standing up. “Look, I’m already on it.” He pulled a superhero pose on the chair in question, in order to further prove his point.

Jeongin sighed, “I guess”.

Minho was pissed, how could the teacher sign him up for something so stupid? He stormed through the school hallways heading for the underclassmen wing. Finally finding her classroom, he abruptly opened the door getting ready to yell at the teacher. Instead, he only saw two underclassmen. 

A startled Jisung screamed as he fell from the chair to the floor, landing on his butt. He angrily thought, “who the hell barges in here like-'' but his thoughts were cut off when he looked in the doorway seeing Minho. He just stood there in the doorway, and Jisung couldn’t figure out how to look away. He studied him making sure not to forget a single detail of Minho. The guy he had been desperately trying to get a better view of through his memories.

Minho was alarmed at the scene in front of him. He moved forward to help the fallen boy, stopping when the boy’s head tilted up to look at him. All of his thoughts vanished as his eyes locked onto Jisung’s. His anger dissipated. Minho was pulled back to reality when Jeongin cleared his throat.

He moved to help Jisung up while apologizing. “I shouldn’t have been so aggressive-” He dragged out the last word at the sight before him. Jisung had quickly scrambled to get up off the floor as Minho got closer. Minho was confused by the strong reaction. Had he really scared this boy that much? Fearing that that might be the case, Minho decided it was maybe time for him to leave.

“I just came here to talk to the teacher, but I’ll go wait outside for her.” Minho gave a slight nod to the underclassmen as he left the room.

Jisung thought to himself, “His even more handsome close up”.

Jeongin rolled his eyes. “I know what that look means.”

Jisung tried to rebut saying, “Well, it’s just nice to have someone who seems warm. Instead of you always being annoyed and cold with me.” He stuck his tongue out at Jeongin.

Jeongin smirked, “If you think I can be cold you should see Minho”.

“I’m telling you, he definitely was looking at you.” Chan said, smiling at Jisung. Jisung was walking in between Changbin and Chan as they headed to their next classes.

“As much as I would like to believe that, in times like this we must be realistic.” Jisung had stated with a sad frown. He truly did want to believe it, he just simply couldn’t.

Every time Jisung spotted Minho it’s not like he’d give Minho much of a chance to convince him otherwise. He mainly spent his time running away from Minho. He was way too nervous of doing the wrong thing. So, rather than doing something wrong, his solution was to just run away from the situation entirely. It wasn’t the best way to go about things, but it seemed like the best way to avoid getting hurt for Jisung.

“You know he is in mine and Chan’s grade level.” Changbin turned to Jisung. “I could always put in a good word for you.” Changbin raised his eyebrows up and down suggestively while getting closer to Jisung.

Jisung’s eyes widened. “Don’t you dare do anything!” 

Chan being the mediator he was, he decided to try to make a compromise for both sides. “I have several classes with him, if you ever want to know anything just ask.” Chan leaned closer to Jisung. Being in between the two boys Jisung started getting squished. 

Jisung smiled. “Okay I’ll let you know.” It felt nice to know his friends only wanted the best for him.

Jisung had been walking his whole life, and yet he somehow failed to succeed in walking just then. He was attempting to put his back foot forward when, because of his friends almost crushing him, his back foot hooked on his other foot. Making him fall forward when his legs had become one.

Changbin laughed at his friend toppling over. For it was quite amusing how sudden and fast Jisung had made contact with the floor. Suddenly, Chan cut him off seeing that the fall had been in front of the very man they were discussing earlier. 

Jisung looked up at the man. As he registered Minho was in front of him his eyes soon grew wide. Jisung fumed inside his head. “Why does this happen every time?”

Minho attempted to start a conversation. “Umm hey,” Minho awkwardly gave a smile trying to appear less scary.

“Hey,” Jisung softly spoke, before quickly sprinting down the hall. 

The group left behind could faintly hear a teacher yell. “No running in the halls!”

Minho stood still in place. He tried not to let himself get too down, acknowledging the progress made. “Well at least he said a word to you.” A small smile spread across his face at that thought. Even if it was just microscopic progress, they were still moving forward.

The group stood there a few more seconds processing the situation, before Chan cleared his throat. “Well Minho, you wanna walk to our next class together?”

Minho, still looking in the direction where Jisung disappeared, slowly replied, “yes”.

After they had walked to class and sat in their normal seats Minho decided to ask the question that was burning on his mind. “So who was that guy?”

Chan was puzzled for a moment, then it hit him. “You mean the guy that fell for you?” Chan mentally kicked himself at his slip up. “I mean, the guy that fell in front of you.”

Minho tilted his head. “Yeah, him…”

Chan gave a nervous chuckle, “That’s just Jisung”.

Inquisitiveness quickly infected Minho. “Are you guys close?”

“Yeah, me and Changbin hang out with him quite often. He helps us with producing music.” Chan paused. “You normally aren’t too interested in people, unless…” He trailed off making the last word seem more like a question.

“I mean he does seem quite interesting,” Minho then glanced away as he finished his statement. “and cute.” Chan gave a suggestive look. This was too good.

Minho decided to tell Chan what he was really worried about. “He always seems to run away when I’m around though. I think he might think I’m scary.”

Chan could’ve said the real reason why Jisung always runs, but he decided to just tip toe around the truth.“I think he might be a little intimidated, but you tend to have that effect on people.” Chan hoped to lighten the mood by saying the last part in a joking manner.

Minho let out his frustrations with a sigh. “I know.”

Chan put on a teasing smile. “Oooh you know?”

“Don’t start that.” Minho hoped that he had the wrong idea and Chan was just talking about something else. Still Chan continued. 

Leaning closer to Minho at said, “We know”.

Minho rolled his eyes.

“Lee Know,” Chan said, while his arm went outwards towards Minho, and his hands shaking like jazz hands.

“Do you really have to bring that old rap up? This is why I don’t hang out with you and Changbin anymore.”

Chan put his hand over his heart and pretended to be hurt. “Cold, but fare. In all seriousness, if you’re worried about coming across as scary, maybe you should stop using words like that.” Minho thought about Chan’s advice, maybe he did need to choose better language.

“You came!” Felix hugged Minho. “I’m so excited!”

Minho accepted the hug and chucked at Felix’s enthusiasm. “Hey, I would never miss your birthday party, come on!” 

Felix pulled away from the hug and looked at Minho giving a slight frown. “Still I heard that you’ve been under the weather.” 

“huh?” 

Felix explained himself, while being a little confused as to why Minho didn’t know what he was talking about. “Changbin said you caught some sort of disease, and something about not taking his advice for a cure.”

Minho closed his eyes out of frustration. “It’s just a weird joke we have.” Minho tried to give a convincing smile. Thinking about how to get revenge, he asked Felix a seemingly innocent question. “Speaking of your boyfriend, where is he exactly?” 

“Oh he's already here along with a few others, we are just waiting for Hyunjin.” Felix motioned towards the living room.

Minho smiled, handing him the bag in his hand. “Here is your gift as well.”

Felix accepted the gift and held it close. “Hyung! You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I couldn’t not get you anything for your birthday.” 

Felix smiled big as he spoke. “Still I really appreciate this gift. I'll go put it with the others, see you later.” He waved as left the room. Minho was happy his gift was being appreciated, but didn’t think it was that big of a deal.

“Bye” Minho waved back. Then when Felix turned around he cracked his knuckles. He was ready to greet Changbin with an evil grin plastered on his face. Entering the living room Minho glared at Changbin while he spoke through his teeth. “Why did you tell Felix I have a disease?”

Changbin’s face lit up as he laughed saying, “You do! You are love sick”.

“And why is that Felix’s concern?”

Changbin decided to clear up Minho’s worries. “Listen, it accidentally slipped out. I had to try to cover it up.” He then leaned closer to Minho hoping to prevent anyone from overhearing. “Also you normally don’t take long, letting people know how you feel. I thought you would already have it all figured out by now.”

Minho clicked his tongue. “Well, I haven’t gotten alone time with him yet.” In fact he hadn’t gotten any time with Jisung. Just the occasional bump in the hall or a quick wave. Jisung normally sprinted in the other direction before, much progress could be made. Minho instead got to know Jisung through little observations, times when Jisung wasn’t aware of his presence. Most of it made Minho more lonely. He seemed to talk so freely to others, while with Minho they were moving at a snail's pace, if that.

Changbin consulted him, patting his shoulder. “Are you gonna do anything today then?”

“Today?”

“Don’t you know Jisung is here, at this party?” He greeted Felix with a smile as he entered the room with Hyunjin. “Him and Felix are good friends.”

Minho blinked at the new information. Seeing his boyfriend was now free, Changbin headed towards him. Hyunjin acknowledged Chan with a nod and started to quietly talk about some sort of surprise for Felix.

Jisung was talking with Jeongin when he noticed Minho. 

Panic spread through him as he whispered yelled at Jeongin. “Shit! Why didn’t you tell me Minho would be here! I’ve got to figure out how to avoid him.”

Jeongin raised his eyebrows. “Why is that?”

“Because, I always do something embarrassing in front of him. Remember when I fell off the chair.” Jisung was bouncing his leg out of nervousness. 

Jeongin smiled at the memory of his friend getting startled. “Yeah, but it was kinda funny seeing you all panicked and flustered.” He poked Jisung’s side trying to get the man to loosen up. Jisung narrowed his eyes at Jeongin’s lame attempts to ease his pain. “Listen Huyng, it’s probably not as bad as you think.”

Jisung glanced up once again at the boy they were talking about. He froze upon seeing Minho’s eyes lock directly onto his. Jisung decided to try to hide behind Jeongin. Knowing it was pointless to resist, Jeongin let him hide.

Minho, seeing that Jisung was still avoiding him, decided maybe he should just give him space. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Seungmin pulled him away from his thoughts.

“I heard that someone's got a crush.” Minho sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. If Seungmin knew that meant he had been super obvious. 

“Oh. That means I’m right.” Seungmin looked around the room. “Alright, where is he? Let’s have a conversation with him.” Minho giggled, he knew Seungmin would never actually cross the line.

Jisung saw how close Minho and Seungmin were. His mind wondered if the two of them had something going on. Had he been delusional this whole time? He had known that the two boys were always close, but Minho was smiling while also acting somewhat embarrassed. It looked like the same way Jisung felt when he saw Minho, yet Minho wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at Seungmin.

Jisung’s attention was soon grabbed by Hyunjin as he gripped his shoulder. “Alright, I set everything up. Changbin is currently distracting him. When Seungmin hits the lights, you come in with the cake.”

At the mention of Seungmin, Jisung decided to glance up where Minho used to be. Not seeing either guy he looked around a bit more. Spotting Minho talking to Chan, he felt relief wash over himself.

Hyunjin nudged him, “Hey Seungmin is by the light switch, so hurry up and go.” 

Jisung quickly disappeared from the room heading for the kitchen. When the lights went out and the living room was dark, he entered. Jisung beamed as he carried the candle lit cake towards Felix. The light flickered all around the group as everyone huddled close.

Minho scanned everyone wondering if anyone else saw a problem with this. The fact that all his interactions with Jisung resulted in the boy toppling over, he started to worry. Seeing no one around him was on alert he decided to just brush it off. He shook off the thoughts, as he put himself back in the moment. 

After everyone sang happy birthday to Felix. He closed his eyes and he blew out the candles making a wish. Seungmin went towards the lights, turning them back on. Changbin cupped Felix’s face in his hands and leaned in to kiss him. 

“Yuck!” Hyunjin pulled out his classic disturbed face at the PDA in front of him. He tried to back away from the romantic situation. When he ended up accidentally bumping into Jeongin. Who was not expecting to get hit with anything, completely fell over heading straight for Jisung. Causing Jisung to think of a quick action in order to save the cake. He was too fast with his movements and the cake quickly left his hands and went to the air as he toppled over.

The cake, flying up in the air and had everyone entranced wondering where it would land. It started heading straight for Minho. Possibly out of shock or just pure lack of care he stayed completely still. He just simply closed his eyes as the cake landed straight on his face. The cake then crumbled the rest of it sliding to his shoulders and the floor around him. Minho’s face was covered in frosting and chunks of cake. 

His hands went to his eyes, as he wiped off the gunk so he could open them. Gazing around towards the rest of the group it seemed like most of them were waiting for him to react. Minho was not the type to make a big deal out of an accident.

He tried to quelch their concerns. “No need to panic, it's just a cake.”

A small pout appeared on Felix’s lips as he stared at the cake. It’s unlikely that anyone walking into the room would call it a cake though, they would likely just call it a mess. Seeing the pout on his boyfriend’s face, Changbin quickly pulled him into a hug. 

Changbin patted Felix’s head as he tried to comfort him. “It will be fine, it's only a cake I will get you a better one.” 

As they continued to hug, Hyunjin suggested an alternative. “Let’s go all out for ice cream!” Jeongin lit up, enthusiastically nodding at the idea.

Seungmin gestured towards the mess. “But first Minho should get cleaned up.”

Chan took the lead of clean up duty. “Let’s also clean up the floor, I’ll go get towels from the kitchen.”

Jisung’s face slowly turned more and more red, staring in shock at Minho covered in the mess he made. “Minho, I'm so sorry!” Minho took a few seconds to process the situation. He just stood there frozen. When Jisung touched his face with a napkin Minho unfroze.

He calmly spoke. “Don’t worry, I’ll go get cleaned up in the bathroom.” Then abruptly disappeared towards the restroom.

Changbin saw the perfect set up. “Jisung, you should help him clean up.”

Jisung crunched the napkin in his hand. Would it really be okay to follow Minho? Would it just be weird if he helped? Although, he did make the mess in the first place. Jisung’s eyes panned around the room hoping to find an answer. Chan entered the room and filling in the blanks he nodded at Jisung. He was assured that the right thing was to follow Minho.

He stood outside of the bathroom, took a deep breath and then opened the door. At the sight before him his breath spilled back out into the open. Minho was without a shirt on. The cake was still covering his face, but that only drew more attention to his exposed upper body. Compared to his face in the mirror his back was so spotless. It looked so clean, smooth, and inviting.

Minho, seeing Jisung through the mirror, questioned his intentions. “Are you here to help?” Minho put his attention back to the mirror pulling cake out of his hair.

Jisung lightly shook his head to get rid of the nasty thoughts. “Yeah,” he grabbed the hand towel sitting on the edge of the sink counter. “Here, lean over the sink and I’ll help you.”

Minho softly smiled as Jisung wet the rag and pieces of cake fell into the sink. Maybe Jisung wasn’t scared of him. Minho looked at Jisung’s eye as they forced on getting the cake off his face. Even if this moment was temporary, Minho felt lucky for just being a part of it. Jisung was also in bliss, but tried to focus on the task in front of him. He wondered if he should go slow with cleaning Minho’s face, that way this moment would last just a little bit longer.

Minho decided to speak up in hopes a conversation would make Jisung take longer. He scanned around the room and saw his shirt on the counter. “Do you think you could ask Seungmin to get me an extra shirt when you're done here?”

Jisung sank a little, “Yeah.” he paused then asked the burning question on his mind. “Are you two together?”

“Ew no,” Minho made a face like he had just eaten the sourest lemon on planet earth. 

“Ah that’s good.” Jisung couldn’t hide his smile at the news. He looked up, seeing Minho’s blank face he attempted to remedy the situation. “I mean…” In the end Jisung couldn’t figure out how to save himself. The words only served to grow Minho’s confidence. They were alone together so, now was as good of a time as any.

“Listen Jisung, I have something important to tell you.” Minho bit his lip. No matter how many times someone asks out someone they really like, it never gets easier. “I was wondering if after tonight’s party you’d wanna hang out. Just the two of us. Like a date or something?”

Jisung’s lit up, smiling at Minho. “I’d love that!” He then looked down as he confessed what had been bothering him. “If I’m being honest, I thought I was utterly embarrassing myself in front of you, cause I’m such a clutz.”

Minho laughed at the honesty, just another thing to love. “I thought it was really cute.” Minho smiled, remembering how adorable and flustered Jisung would be when he fell. Thinking more Minho tilted his head. “Although, is that why you ran away every time? I thought you were scared of me or something.”

Jisung sheepishly smiled. “Well, I was kind of scared.” Jisung couldn’t look at Minho anymore as he said the next words. “But it’s because I really like you.”

Minho smiled, he hoped that this dork would stay in his life forever. “I really like you too.”

➤ Masterlist ❀ Ao3 ❀ Wattpad ❀ Ko-fi

A/N: It seems like minsung has won once again. Thank you for everyone who voted in the poll I really appreciate the help. Going to end up posting them in order from most votes to least votes. Thank you so much for reading and supporting me!

[fairytaleriots]

Repressing emotions, being ironic...the family business - Chapter 1

Summary:

Dave wants to find his Bro, Rose wants to return to her normal live as a college student. Instead they get involved in some rituals, find themselves and a family and maybe save the world. The last part might pose a problem. or Dean Winchester wishes he had what Dave Strider has

ao3 link

Chapters: 2

Act 1 Chapter 1

„On recent developments: Dave’s skills in shooting, hand-to-hand combat and knives is improving faster, since he’s actually going doing with the set training regiment without complaining. Despite that Rose still wins against him in a brawl. She just doesn’t hesitate.“ – /home/personal/twins/training_observations_11.odt , Bro Strider’s computer files

Your name is Rose Lalonde and you have the life you always wanted. You have left the past behind you, started studying psychology at your first choice university, your apartment is small but enough and you have accumulated a small group of friends that you can depend on and that make you laugh occasionally. It’s nice. It’s normal. If only your subject of study didn’t regularly remind you that the past isn’t left behind that easily. To the point where sometimes it comes crashing through your living room window in the middle of the night.

You watch Jessica lock her car twice, first when you get out of the car and then again just a few steps later. She turns back as if she isn’t sure whether or not she has already done this and repeats it, just to be sure. She always does this, you note mentally. Just an innocent habit? Or maybe a prior bad experience? You want to dig deeper, crawl in and find the roots of it, but it’s late and right now you need to go to bed, because there is class tomorrow, so instead you file it away for later and smile at Jessica.

“Thank you for the ride. It is appreciated”

Jessica gives you s slight smile back: “Oh, any time, really. Come on, I’ll bring you to your door.”

That might have been flirting. Or another sign of anxiety. You add it to your file while making inconsequential chatter on your way to the door. You’re still halfway in thought when Jessica says her goodbyes.

You’re no longer in thought when you see the entrance floor of your apartment. You haven’t really gotten around to decorating here – or anywhere else in the apartment. You’ve been meaning to put up some pictures on the wall, to make it feel more like a home, for a while now. You just haven’t gotten around to it yet. The relative emptiness of the room makes the small shimmer of light coming though the slit of the slightly open living room door even more noticeable. Your hands go to the stiletto knives hidden in your boots. You hadn’t managed to make yourself get rid of them. After all, you might have wanted to leave that life behind you, but that didn’t make you unaware of what’s out there. Silently you sneak towards the door and open it, knife in each hand, ready to jump.

You see glass splinters scattered on the floor and over most of your furniture. A cold night’s wind blows through the jagged remains of what was once your living room window. You see your brother standing in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets.

“Sup.”, he says. “Sorry to just barge in like that, but you know how it is. Not that I don’t totally respect your space and shit, hell, I respect it more than an anxious teenage boy leaving room for Jesus during his first dance at prom. Hands all sweaty and he hopes nob-” You don’t lower your knives and give him a look that clearly conveys ‘Get on with it’. He swallows and, with a lot of practiced calm, he says: “Bro’s on a hunting trip. And he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

You take the tea bag out of your cup while watching Dave crawl around on the ground with a dustpan. “Surely this could have easily been avoided and my poor window might have been spared.”, you point out, when he gives out an annoyed sigh.

“I was going to! I’m a merciful burglar, I do nothing but spare windows all day long. I looked at your apartment and thought ‘No windows will be harmed in this breaking and entering’. It’s not my fault your window resisted, at that point a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do and in this case it’s taking a big stone and shattering that window into its tiny, resisting pieces. You have to show the window who’s boss, ya know. Good job in securing it though, maybe account for big stones next time.”

He puts the rest of the glass in the bin and sits across from you. When you gesture slightly, he takes the cup of tea you had readied for him.

“I will remember that. Did at no point in this process occur to you that maybe the reason the window was secured is that I did not want somebody to break into my room or was the need to show the window ‘who’s boss’ simply to great?”

Dave lets out a snort and takes a sip of his tea. He immediately makes a face as if it’s the worst thing he’s ever tasted and then takes another sip.

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?”

“Have you considered waiting at the door? Or, god forbid, call?”

“Would you have let me in?”

You look down instead of answering. You would have, probably. You can’t imagine turning Dave away, especially now. But, with how the two of you split, you can understand why he would assume otherwise and you can’t bring yourself to correct him. It might give him hope that things are gonna be like before you left hunting behind and they can’t be.

“I presume you want me to abandon my studies and help you find Bro then?”, you ask instead.

Dave gives you a look, like he noticed your change of topic, before he answers. You’re usually better at getting away with things like this.

“Well, yeah. It sounds kinda shitty, when you say it like that. But I… he didn’t say where he was going and, if whatever he found actually got him, I might need some back up. Not that that’s likely, Bro’s made of harder stuff. He probably just forgot to check back in, you know how he is.”

You do know. And you know how Dave is, too. You can hear the over-the-top confidence in his voice that betrays his anxiety. You know that Bro would not want him to be here and here he is anyway.

“Ill come. I’ll be able to catch up on most of my classes as long as I’m back in time for my exams. And I will be back for my exams.” You leave him no room for argument. He gives you a small smile, as if the look you’re giving him right now hasn’t made several of your professors shit their pants.

“ No shit. I wouldn’t and couldn’t stop you from being a giant fucking nerd.” “Then let us bounce.”

Your first stop is one of Bro’s contacts, a seer. Since Bro had left no hint of his current whereabouts or the job he had taken behind, Dave had thought that this might be the way to get a lead. Now you are walking into maybe the most tacky occult shop you have ever seen. Listen, you get committing to an aesthetic for a bit but maybe that aesthetic should include less knock-off dream catchers. Have a bit of integrity.

The seer is expecting you and you don’t know if Dave called ahead or if she’s simply good at her job. She must be, otherwise Bro wouldn’t have bothered with her. You bet he liked the dream catchers.

She gives you a blinding smile and says in a calming voice: “Hello, hello, sit.” She gestures to two seats heaped over with colorful pillows in front of the table she’s sitting behind.

“My name is Cassia and I am so overjoyed to be your spiritual guide today and this meeting is surely bound to be fortuitous.”

When Dave and you give her identical deadpan stares, she flips her long hair and the smile turns into a smirk. You are 90% sure that Cassia is not her actual name.

“My, my, you both really take after Bro, don’t you? Always right down to business.”

Dave flinches the slightest bit and you think she notices. She really is good then.

“That would be sensible. We really don’t know if this is time-sensitive or how far we might need to travel. Expedience would be appreciated.”, you start, when it doesn’t seem like Dave is gonna take the lead.

She starts rummaging around her drawers and pulls out an assortment of crystals and symbols embroidered into cloth without giving either of you much attention anymore. Not the right move either because you can practically feel Dave starting to vibrate next to you, thanks to the silence, before it bursts out of him: “Where do you get your info from anyway? Has to have a source, doesn’t it? Do you trade something for it or is it like a present, like does Santa show up and hand you a convenient little package full of other peoples issues. ‘Merry Christmas, this dude is cheating on his wife, Uncle Jason has gotten into some drama again and this is the place where the lost family member of these to fucked off to. Please use at your discretion.’” Dave’s eyebrows are furrowed in clear suspicion. Your family possesses remarkable eyebrow skills.

Cassia looks at him as if he’s a cat that has just thrown up on your bed while you were trying to carry it away as fast as possible.

“Some of us are just blessed with more insight than others.”, she says in a measured tone.

“And if your question is whether or not this means a hunter like you needs to kill me, might I remind you that I have worked with your guardian, who is undoubtedly a hunter through and through, for quite some time and he has not seen the need to do so?”

Dave’s look doesn’t change, but, when he doesn’t say anything else, she continues: “Shall we begin then?”

From an ornate box that has been decorated with paintings of clouds, she takes out a stack of cards and starts shuffling them. She handles them with ease and it’s quite mesmerizing to watch, cards flying through the air while still never seeming to leave her hands, faster than you can quite follow with your eyes, even though you try. Then, out of nowhere, her hands seem to catch on something invisible, breaking her rhythm, and a card falls from the deck and lands on the table. You see the image of the High Priestess before everything turns black.

Or not black. It is more...nothing. And then, all at once,the nothing becomes everything and it feels like too much and you want to scream except you are also everything, so everything screams. Suddenly the everything unravels, pieces falling off like petals, and it zeros in until you’re left with a scene of a man in a motel.

You have never seen the old-fashioned furnishing before and yet it feels incredibly familiar. It takes you a moment to become you again and you recognize the man as Bro. Glasses, hat, popped collar and seemingly unharmed.

You’d nearly forgotten how long it has been since you last saw him and you get the sudden urge to get out of here, to leave and go back to your studies. At the same time you have the bone-deep realization how satisfying it would be to just snap these fucking glasses into pieces.

He’s checking in and the man behind the front desk is giving him a key. This must already have happened a while ago. You mentally jot down the name, Bonnybridge Inn. You feel something like approval at the back of your head and then this last piece of everything falls away as well.

This seems to not have been part of the plan because Cassia seems both shocked and very determined to get rid of you when you wake up. With a last look to Dave and a murmured “You should be more concerned about that than the sources of my visions.” she practically shoves both of you out of her door.

“She didn’t even tell us anything.”, Dave says confused. “What the fuck just happened?”

You think of ‘Bonnybridge Inn’. You think of the overwhelming sensation of more than you could ever handle. You think of the presence in the back of your head and the satisfaction you felt at the image of snapping Bro’s shades in half. “Get in the car. I’ll fill you in on the way.”, you say out loud.

Bro had left the Chevrolet Silverado with Dave before going on this hunt. It had surprised you that Bro would leave his semi-ironic pick-up truck behind but apparently this had been established as a thing whenever Dave and Bro split up to go on separate hunts since you left. One could mistake it for sentimentality. You’re sure that Dave does.

After a quick google search you find your destination to be Chicago, at least 2 days travel from where the two of you are right now.

Dave rummages through his pile of cassette tapes and puts something on that not only have you never heard of, your barely sure its a genre and it’s definitely not old enough to have actually been released on a cassette tape. You look at the cassette case that reads ‘Meaty Fist Glassward’ and for a moment you consider making a comment about how this band has been gaining some traction, just to see if you can piss him off, but his face is blank in a way that reminds you of nothing good.

“So you could get started with the filling in now.”, he says, voice perfectly calm.

Part of you feels protective of the vision in some way, but the bigger part wants to make him see what you have seen, so you tell him the whole thing.

“We shouldn't trust that shit! Why did you get the vision, not the actual seer?”

“Well I hardly think we have another choice and it’d be foolish not to follow this up. And maybe I’m just better than her at her job.”, you say with a tone that may be slightly too smug.

Dave shoots you a look, except you can’t see his eyes and he doesn’t turn his face from the road so it ends up more like a disapproving grimace.

“Shouldn’t you be more unhappy? You were the one that wanted a ‘normal’ life and now you’re getting weird visions from some weird all-powerful hentai tentacle-monster.”

“There were no tentacles involved.”

“And I bet you’re real sad about that.”

He’s correct of course. About how you should be a lot madder at the situation. This is something that doesn’t fit in your plan and you hate it when things don’t fit in your plan. But something about it feels so right.

[yaksha-lover]

Cupiditas

Vamp!Vil Schoenheit x Reader

cw: jealous/insecure reader, hurt/comfort

Sometimes you forget just how big Vil’s world is. When it’s just the two of you, it’s easy to block all of that out. He doesn’t feel like a celebrity, he just feels like Vil.

Sitting at the side of the studio, you’ve never felt more out of place. Large, blinding studio lights shine down on Vil as he poses, gorgeous as ever, with two stunning models. The three of them look natural together; they belong in each other’s world. Vil’s newest movie is a vampire one after all, maybe that’s why he looks so comfortable with them. He doesn’t have to act so much.

You wonder if Vil takes blood from people like these models. He refuses from you and yet… they aren’t the bland and boring he considers you to be. They’re special and beautiful like him. People like them belong at his side. People worthy of him.

The producer lavishes praises on the three stars, before announcing a wrap on the shoot. You can’t hear what they say, speaking too quietly from your location, but you catch a smile from Vil at the words of one of the other models.

You don’t understand why you feel this way. Vil isn’t your boyfriend, he’s not even your friend, he’s nothing to you. Nothing that he isn’t to those beautiful models. It’s stupid, why should you even care what he does?

Lost in your own world, you don’t realize Vil is in front of you until he’s flicking your forehead.

“You should know getting lost in thought is rather unbecoming of an assistant, even a temporary one,” Vil chastises lightly, already turning away to double check his makeup in a nearby mirror.

When you don’t respond, Vil sighs quietly and continues, “I’ll just need to get changed out of these clothes and we can leave. I trust Rook has told you what you should do in the meantime?”

“Yeah, I’ll call the driver,” you tell him, pulling out your phone as he walks away. He turns to glance back at you for a second, but seems to change his mind and keeps walking towards his dressing room.

Just as you’re packing up your things, you happen to overhear one of the other models, heading back to their own dressing room. On the phone and talking about…Vil. As his (temporary) assistant, it’s crucial to be informed at all times about his reputation, so of course you eavesdrop.

“Yes, I’m going go talk to him now. I’m so nervous, but I really like Vil. I think he likes me too, he’s been so flirty during our shoots.”

You quickly walk out of the studio, vision blurry. No point waiting for Vil, it’s not like he’ll be coming back with you tonight. You make it halfway down the steps before someone catches your arm.

You refuse to turn around and let him see your face. You’re being childish, and pathetic, but you can’t help the tears that stream down your face.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, with less mockery than you expect.

“…M’not,” you reply, still not facing him. He grabs your chin gently and forces you to tilt your head up at him, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb.

“Is someone feeling…jealous?” he asks you with a knowing look and a small smile. Oddly enough, it doesn’t feel like he’s making fun of you. Still, you don’t exactly want to reply to that.

“Hmm,” Vil gently parts your hair from your neck, “Will it really take me biting you for you to realize that I’m only interested in one person.”

You feel yourself flush, and try to stumble out a retort before Vil silences you with a laugh.

His hand shifts to stroke your cheek, before falling back to his side. He turns and walks towards the limo which just pulled up, only looking back to make sure you’ve followed after him.

“I’m just teasing, of course. You know I wouldn’t take blood from a human like you.”

“WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN???”

“You know what it means,” he says as he takes your hand and leads you towards the car. You want to be mad at him, but seeing the gentle smile on his face, you forget your feelings and focus on him.

You get to the limo and reach for the front door, ready to get in before you hear another sigh.

“What are you doing?” he asks, exasperated.

You turn towards Vil, confused, before realizing your mistake. You hastily open the door for him, gesturing for his entry: “Sorry, sir.”

He rolls his eyes before grabbing your arm and gently pushing you into the back seat, despite your protests.

“Sir? What’s gotten into you? If I knew making you my assistant would make you this obedient, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

He smirks gently at you when he sees how flustered you become, quickly trying to defend yourself.

“I was just trying to be professional like Rook taught-“

“You’re awfully loud,” he cuts you off sharply, “Seems like you’re feeling better. Do I need to take some blood from you so you’ll calm down?”

You shuffle as far away from him as your seatbelt will allow, and Vil actually laughs. You find that you enjoy the sound more than you thought, and more than you should. He has worked hard, and is he looking a little pale? Maybe he does need blood, to survive of course, and would it be so bad if you were the one to give it to him? No! You chastise yourself for even thinking such thoughts of giving in to him.

The two of you resume conversations about his work before it turns to casual, easy talk of your lives at the mansion. The car ride is long and the day has been exhausting, but Vil doesn’t mind seem to mind when you rest your head on his shoulder and try to fall asleep.

[elvisabutler]

I NEED U TO WRITE SOMETHING ABT THE VOGUE PHOTOSHOOT

something? oh you want something? okay this is like the tiniest of crumbs because working on something else. but sure why not because let's be real this photoshoot makes us all a little feral. tw: choking mentions some curse words, idk there's nothing major y'all.

this photoshoot is a unmitigated disaster from start to finish.

this is true across every version of you and austin that goes through this shoot. it's a mess.

yeah there's a bright spot or two and one of those bright spots sits on your dresser so you can see it when you walk into your bedroom every night. but that doesn't compare to everything else.

it is an unprofessional shit show. why you ask?

there was a set of poses you knew you were going to do, baz had told you because he wasn't about to send his elvis and his priscilla to the wolves especially knowing you two might have just gotten back together.

apparently after the first few they changed their minds. something about how your chemistry was off the charts and it'd be a shame to waste it. you wish they would have wasted it. austin wishes they would have wasted it.

there is a pose they wanted you to do that had austin walking off the set. or at least to a different part of the set to cool off lest her get you and him in a world of trouble.

she's not doing that, how many times do i have to say it?

it's not that bad, mr. butler. you have already done worse.

for my own private use something you said was fine since we're here all goddamn day.

yeah but you had your hand around her throat, i'm allowed to say she needs to-

when it comes to her you aren't allowed shit.

you step in finally realizing this is going to go nowhere good and you're the one who'd have to be doing it anyway.

that pose is not for any of you to see. that pose is for him and i only. i'm not having it plastered across the glossy pages of vogue. even if i get in trouble.

they find the two of you later on. austin spends the rest of the shoot so angry you're honestly a little worried for him. but he calms down about halfway to your hotel. mostly.

like i said. it's a shitshow.

you don't get in trouble though. partially because the photographer personally apologizes and partially because baz himself is the guest editor.

it does make vman's shoot far more pleasant.

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with Ethan’s suggestion

Description | Ethan suggests something that you had never seen coming - but for how long will you be able to resist him?

Content | smut with a bit of fluff

Pairing | Ethan x fem!Reader

Word Count | 3138

Tagging | @ginny-lily @mywritingonlyfans

***

"You did not just ask me that."

Ethan didn't even seem bothered by your shocked reaction. Instead, he simply kept looking at you, waiting, as if he had posed a completely normal question. You were certain it wasn’t though - who the hell just came out and asked one of their best friends to start hooking up? Surely this wasn’t just you thinking this was more than odd. You couldn’t stop looking at him, relaxing on a lounger in the sun, book still open in his hand, and how he didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, come one, Y/n,” Vic interjected from where she was relaxing on a pool float. “Poor Ethan hasn’t been with anyone since the pandemic started. The least you can do is help him get laid.”

“Get laid by me?!”

“Who else?” Victoria laughed. “It’s not like he can go out and pick up someone when we go on a promo tour in a week. We’re barely allowed to meet anyone as a safety measure.”

You shot her a pointed look and Victoria being your friend for the longest got it immediately.

“And no, I’m not gonna hook up with him. So it’s gotta be you.”

You couldn’t believe the conversation you were having. Had everyone simply gone crazy? Surely, Thomas wouldn’t be on their side in this, right? You watched as he lazily strolled towards your loungers, cigarette in hand.

“Thomas!” You shouted over at him. “Ethan wants me to hook up with him!”

“Fucking finally,” Thomas laughed as you stared back in horror. Was everyone in on this madness? “He’s been moping around for ages. About time he gets laid and relaxes.”

“See?” Ethan interjected. “Everyone thinks it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea!”

“Fine,” Ethan shrugged. You hated how much he didn’t seem to care - how he had posed a question like that without an ounce of awkwardness and how your rejection didn’t seem to faze him in the least. You knew he was open about sex and sexuality, you’d been part of countless conversations among the band and had seen him pick up people at parties more than once, but this unnerved you. "If you change your mind, I'm available."

And with that Ethan went back to his book, Victoria went back to floating around the pool and Thomas went back to smoking his cigarette. But you weren't going to go back to anything, because whether you liked it or not, Ethan's suggestion would continue playing in your head for the unforeseeable future.

***

Three days. It had been three days since that fateful day at the pool and you could barely stand to look at Ethan. It wasn't because you were embarrassed - you all spoke about such things quite openly - nor were you angry at him having asked in the first place - if anything, it was flattering, a man such as Ethan considering you attractive in that way. It was more of a constant thought in your head whenever you were in the same room with him or he talked to you or you looked at him or he so much as popped into your mind. You kept lying awake at night, intrusive thoughts of Ethan towering over you clouding your brain. You didn't know what it was but you knew you didn't like it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as Victoria approached you, taking a couple of tomatoes you had spread in front of you and started cutting them up. You had been in charge of making dinner most days, with one or the other coming to join you in your cooking endeavors sooner or later. Today it seemed to be Vic, who was giggling away beside you, quite obviously dying to tell you something.

"And what is up with you?" You asked, a smirk on your face. You were happy your friend seemed so giddy and it had you itching to know why.

"I have a date!" Victoria was never one to keep things like these to herself for long - whenever she was positively excited about something, the world simply had to know. "Her name's Paula, she's on holiday here and we're going to go out for wine."

"Just wine?"

"Well, I'm gonna say, don't expect me back here tonight." She couldn't stop herself from smirking and then breaking out in another round of laughter and you joined freely. Good for her.

"I miss dates," you mused. "Or maybe - I don't know. Maybe I just miss at least staying the night with someone."

"You really need to get laid, babe."

"Who needs to get laid?" Damiano had appeared without warning, sneaking up on the two of you and pinching both of your waists teasingly before hopping on the counter next to where you were working. A slice of tomato was stolen and ended up in his mouth before you could react, only hitting him in the arm when it was much too late.

"Y/n," Victoria answered nonchalantly. You stared at her in annoyance but she didn't even catch your eye.

"So does Ethan! You guys should fuck."

"Not you too," you groaned. All of this seemed like a bad joke. In fact, you were starting to wonder if this was all some weird plot your friends had to get you to sleep with Ethan. But why would they?

"Huh?" Damiano sounded surprised but you didn't put it past him to simply put on a good act.

"Ethan asked her to hook up the other day."

"No way!" Damiano exclaimed. "He actually, fina- I mean, he actually asked you that?"

"Yup, and she shot him down," Victoria explained. You were getting more annoyed by the second. Especially because it felt like your love life (or lack thereof?) was being discussed without you. Plus, you couldn't shake the feeling they knew something you didn't.

"Aw, poor Ethan. You know, you should really give him the chance. Make the most of the fact that you've both got the house to yourselves tonight." Damiano's eyebrow wiggle earned him a tomato slice to the face due to pure irritation on your side. He wasn't bothered, quickly shoving it into his mouth and happily munching away on it.

"Wait, what do you mean? Where are you going?"

You sounded much more panicked than necessary. So what if you were alone in the house with Ethan? You'd survive. Easily. You'd read a bit of your book, maybe watch a movie, go to bed. You didn't even have to spend time with him. Right?

"Going out with my girlfriend, she's in town for work. Not sure where Thomas is off to but he's already left" Damiano shrugged, finally hopping off the counter to hopefully stop being in the way. "So, if there's anything you want to do, do it tonight."

***

So this was it. You were alone with Ethan. No, this was nothing. So what if you were alone with him? Not like it was going to change anything at all.

You had said your goodbyes for the night to the two lovebirds, wishing Victoria the most possible fun on her little date, before pouring yourself a glass of wine and retreating to the patio. You had no idea where Ethan was and you didn't mind.

The sun was setting, the temperature was more than bearable and you had your book lying next to you. Eyes closed trying to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, your hand grasped the stem of the wine glass, and fuck that moth scared the living daylights out of you. And caused you to spill your wine all over your blouse. Red wine. Crap. One was supposed to wash those out immediately, right? Right? You realised you had no idea, as you sprinted towards the upstairs bathroom, already unbuttoning for fast removal.

You threw the door open, feet set to move towards the basin, when you realised you weren't alone in the room. It happened in slow motion, as much as you hated the cliché of it all.

Ethan's back was towards you, strong, hard muscles visible under an array of water droplets that were slowly, slowly making their way downwards, hypnotising you and keeping your gaze locked on them. Your eyes were still travelling lower and lower when he noticed your presence, turning around out of reflex, and you could not help but notice he was not wrapped in a towel, nowhere close, when your eyes fell on-

Oh.

Oh.

In a rare moment of clarity, you tore your gaze away, looking up at his face instead, just to find him eyeing up your cleavage. Your blouse was halfway undone, putting your white lace bra on full display. Then his eyes snapped away and looked into yours instead. For a second, it felt like the world was standing still. Your brain only worked for another moment before it decided to let your body - or potentially your heart? - take over.

You told yourself 'fuck it' - or maybe you said it out loud, judging by the sudden smirk appearing on Ethan's face - and reached for the man in front of you. He reciprocated without hesitation, pulling you in and meeting your mouth with his, as he walked you backward until you hit the wall. His body felt hot against yours, providing a stark contrast to the cold tiles pressing into you. His hands cradled your face softly, fingers stroking along your cheeks, while he kissed you, open-mouthed, in a way that left you breathless.

If you had ever had doubts that sex with Ethan would not be worth it, they had evaporated into thin air altogether.

His hands had started roaming your body, finally landing on the last buttons of your blouse. You had expected him to slowly open them up, but instead, he tore the fabric apart in one swift movement, buttons flying and hitting the ground with little clacking noises. You wrecked your mouth from him for a moment, staring at him in both surprise and awe.

"Spiacente," he murmured, although he didn't look all that sorry. "I couldn't help myself. I can get them sewn back-"

"Ethan, stop talking and start fucking me."

Your bold words took both of you by surprise but none of you minded, simply relieved that you were on the same page. His hands were now grasping tightly onto your thighs and, and without giving you a warning, he lifted you up, still pressed against the wall. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively and he took a step back, finding his strength and balance, and slowly carrying you into his bedroom.

You couldn't stop staring at him. Ethan's beauty was a sight to behold on any given day, but the way his lips looked kissed after just a short while and his eyes had that kind of shine to them that had never previously been directed at you, it felt like you were looking at something ethereal. Never mind the fact that you knew he was completely naked, not just the toned chest that was pressing into your torse, but everything else. Hell, you were sure you felt a certain something press into the back of your thigh quite shamelessly.

He dropped you on his bed, leaving you to bounce slightly on the mattress as you lied on your back. He looked like he was about to devour you and you just knew you'd bend to his every wish.

Without any further hesitation, Ethan moved onto the bed, immediately grabbing onto the shorts you were wearing and slowly pulling them down your legs. He held eye contact with you the whole time and you were convinced you had never seen anything sexier in your life. Your panties were the next piece to leave your body. Normally, this would be the point you got nervous about, crossing your legs, hiding behind hands, anything to protect what little of your modesty you had left, but this was different. Ethan took all shame away from you.

"Is this okay?" He asked, as he slowly crawled upwards, spreading your legs and leaving hot, wet kisses along your calves. As much as you appreciated him asking for consent, you almost had to laugh - at this point in time, you had lost all willpower to deny him anything. So, with a blissful smile on your face, you eagerly nodded at him, your hand reaching down and tangling itself into his hair. He groaned as you gave a little tug and the sound was more than enough to get you even wetter than you already were.

At least that was what you thought up until Ethan put his mouth on you. You had been expecting a bit more foreplay, maybe his fingers, but instead you felt his tongue lick along the length of you. Your moan loudly echoed through the room and you had never been so glad that Vic, Thomas and Damiano had deserted the two of you in the house.

Your grasp on his hair tightened as he started flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue. The fact that you could feel his hair tickling the inside of your thighs only seemed to make you more sensitive. Suddenly, one of his fingers entered you, quickly to be joined by a second. Your back arched off the bed in an involuntary reaction as your breathing became more and more laboured. You could hear- hell, you could feel him chuckle against you.

With a sharp tug, you pulled his head away from you.

"I'm not going to be able to take much more, Ethan," you confessed. He looked up at you with wide eyes, chin wet from going down on you and fingers still slowly moving in and out, and you momentarily forgot what you meant to say. "So if you wanna fuck me, I suggest you get a move on."

He didn't need to be told twice. You still sighed in disappointment when he actually removed his fingers from you but you were quickly distracted by him moving them to your mouth and slipping them in. You eagerly sucked on them, twirling your tongue around them, tasting your own arousal, and his composure was slipping with every second he looked at you. He quickly pulled his fingers from your mouth to crawl further up your body, his cock moving against your leg. He was so well endowed it would have almost been frightening if you hadn't been so turned on.

Ethan kissed you with a force that was unparalleled. There wasn't even a question about who was in control. As his fingers trailed from your neck down past your collarbones you both suddenly seemed to remember you were still wearing a bra. You made short work of the piece of fabric, carelessly throwing it across the room, and he thanked you by squeezing your soft flesh in the most delicious way. You repaid the favour by letting your hand wander to his cock and giving him a few strokes. He immediately let out the most sinful moan you had ever heard, head collapsing onto your cleavage.

"I don't think you need any more help from me down there," you giggled.

"With you lying under me like this, I sure don't."

Moving your legs around his waist once more, you slowly guided him into you, your walls swallowing him bit by bit, careful not to stretch you out too fast with his size. It felt like heaven on earth. You both moaned in pleasure as Ethan slowly started moving, making sure you were comfortable as he looked into your eyes, while you broke the eye contact time and time again, too overwhelmed to leave your eyes open every time he thrust into you. You kept grabbing onto what you could, the back of his head, his shoulders, his butt, as he increased his speed, hitting you in all the right places every single time.

You knew you weren't going to last long, not with him on and in and all around you, not with his fingers playing with your nipple, not with his lips clumsily attaching themselves to various places around your neck and shoulders, and as you felt his hand between your legs, softly circling your clit once again, you were gone. You came in waves of euphoria, unashamed of the volume of your moans and the strength with which you pulled on his hair. Your actions, combined with you clenching around him and a few more thrust, had him follow you moments later.

He carefully slipped out of you, never once letting go of you, and turning you onto your side with him so you were facing each other. Both of you were still breathing heavily, vision cloudy, but intertwined. You were convinced he had ruined you - there was no way anyone was ever going to live up to how he made you feel.

"So, did it live up to your expectation?" You couldn't help but giggle as you posed the question. "Getting laid again after such a long time?"

Ethan pushed a damp strand of hair from your face. You hadn't expected such softness.

"It wasn't actually about getting laid, you know."

"Huh?"

"It was about you."

"Okay, you've lost me now," you said, brows knitting as your hand searched for his, finger entangling the same way your legs were doing. "What are you talking about?"

"I... I've liked you for a while. And I tried so much, but you never even noticed."

Your mind replayed the last few weeks you had spent with the band in their summer house. Instances of Ethan bringing you food, cocktails, adjusting the shade to make sure you were in it, offering to put sunscreen on your back. Moments of him searching for your company, moving much closer than necessary in the heat, arms constantly touching when you were sitting next to each other. Jokes and teasing from the others, drunken remarks. You hadn't paid attention to any of it. You wondered how you could have been so blind to a man so wonderful.

"Wait, so instead of asking me out like a normal person, you suggested we hook up?" You couldn't keep the laughter in now. The situation was simply too ridiculous and you had not yet stopped riding on your high from the endorphins he had caused.

"It was Vic's idea." He buried his head into the sheets, but you could still see his cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. "She knew I missed sex and she said you mentioned something similar so she thought this was the way into your..."

"Pants?"

"Heart, actually."

You snuggled closer, arms wrapping around him so that your noses were touching.

"Well, as embarrassing as it is, it somehow worked, didn't it?" You stroked over his head lovingly. "And I'm sure not letting you go any time soon."