#yeah i prefer calling you forest

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : you are Spencer Reid's roommate, the team finds out about you when a case brings them to the university you study at word count : 2.5k warning : canon-typical violence A/N : the university is a random one I picked in Virginia, bear with me because I don't know how US university systems work, thanks :) I think this is a part one, there may be a part two or even more, idk, but tell me what you think !

part 2, part 3, part 4

"I- I'm sorry, what university did you say?" Spencer's frantic tone was immediately noticed by his colleagues. Suddenly, he seemed hyperaware of everything in the room. The loud AC, Derek's pen-clicking and the overwhelming smell of Emily's coffee. "Mary Washington University," JJ answered swiftly, eyes narrowed as she sent Reid a confused glance. The man in question mumbled a few words under his breath and shot up, grabbing his coat and scarf. "We need to go." His tone, unusually urgent, left no space for debate or questioning. He was out the door within seconds, followed closely by Morgan and the others.

When you'd applied for Mary Washington University, you had known you would have to get an apartment. You lived too far away to even consider taking the numerous trains and buses and subways to get there. So, when you had been accepted into your first choice of universities, you'd started apartment hunting. Or roommate-hunting, to be more precise.

To say you had been unlucky would have been quite the understatement. You'd visited four apartments so far and could not even consider living in one of them for a second. The first had been full of frat boys who made your skin crawl, the second was with an old, far right-wing couple, the third had been two sisters who'd yelled at each other for the whole time you were there and the fourth had been so crowded your were certain it was neither sanitary not legal for another person to live there. With the deadline of university starting and having to move all your things, you were starting to get quite anxious. But call it chance or fate, one day you stumbled upon an advertisement for an apartment in a nice neighbourhood with one person who seemed quite normal. This person was a state-employee (which meant a stable salary and that meant you wouldn't have to compensate for rent) who travelled often for work and liked to keep mostly to themselves. Not one for big parties, they preferred a night-in and rarely had people over.

So you'd put on your big-girl pants and had walked over to what you hoped would be your last apartment visit. You hadn't been expecting such a young person to open the door because of the way the advert had been written and because of what it said. "Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid." You noticed he didn't hold his hand out and mirrored his behaviour. "Hi! I'm here for a visit!" You introduced yourself somewhat shyly, feeling intimidated. This man was at the most five years older than you and he was already a doctor?

He showed you around the apartment, which you liked very much. The rooms smelled like books and tea and everything was kept very clean. On the whole, it was tidy, even if a few books or articles were stacked in some odd places. The bedroom you'd stay in was large and luminous. After the tour, he made you a cup of tea as you discussed formalities.

"Uh, so, you’re a student, right?" he'd asked politely as he added a worrying amount of sugar in his earl grey. You bit back a teasing jest. You hoped maybe one day you'd get to place where you could comment on his daily sugar intake. "Yeah, um, I'm studying English Literature and Cinema." You stirred your tea, looking around the kitchen. Even though it was painted a dark, forest green, it still seemed luminous in the afternoon sun. "Oh, that's super interesting! I’ve always found texts in Middle English particularly insightful! I- I read the Canterbury Tales when I was about 10 years old. It’s fascinating the way in which issues which were already current then are still very present today, like in the Wife of Bath’s tale, for example-“

He cut himself off, leaning back into the couch. He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks dusted pink. “Sorry, you probably don’t want me to ramble about what you already know.” “No, I think it’s amazing that you would know that, actually. What else did you like in the Wife of Bath’s tale?” Spencer seemed to brighten up at your words and thus ensued a lengthy discussion of the avant-garde themes evoked by Geoffrey Chaucer. You were fascinated by his knowledge and found his passion especially endearing. Lots of your professors weren’t even that passionate when talking of late 14th century literature.

After discussing rent, which you would afford by waitressing at a local bar, lightly touching upon political subjects (on which you seemed to agree on), he finally told you that he was an FBI agent. "Excuse me?" you spluttered, leaning backwards in shock. "I'm a profiler with the BAU, the Behavioural Analysis Unit. I can show you my badge if you want." He stood up and reached for his bag, but you stopped him in his tracks. "No, no, that's okay, I believe you. I'm just surprised, that's all, sorry." His expansive knowledge of so many things seemed fitting for an agent of the BAU. After realising you were the first person who didn't demand his badge as proof of his profession, Spencer granted you a small smile. "You don't need to apologise. I- I know it can be a bit... off-putting." He sat back down and looked you in the eye. "Is that a problem for you, living with a federal agent?"

You thought about it for a second. As a general rule, you weren't a big fan of cops. Even more generally, you didn't believe in the structure of today's society. But that was a big topic. Plus, a profiler wasn't really a cop, was he? "No, that's not a problem for me."

You'd moved in a month and a half later. Things had been slightly awkward at first and you'd had to figure out what kind of dynamic Spencer and you had. But eventually, you’d found your rhythm.

When Spencer left for work, you took care of his plants and sent him pictures of Geoffrey. Geoffrey was the cat you’d found on the street and taken in. He was named after Geoffrey Chaucer, author of the Canterbury Tales, your first common point of interest. Spencer had been reluctant at first, but you’d taken him to the vet, where he was tested and vaccinated, and the man had finally accepted him into your shared space. Now, he loved the little creature. Sometimes, you’d call him to ask how he was doing and whether he was safe. He’d always reply that yes, he was doing fine and no, he wasn’t in any danger, don’t you worry. He’d ask how you were doing and if you were staying on top of uni work and if you’d eaten and if Geoffrey wasn't being too annoying. As an orange cat, he had his particular tendencies.

When Spencer was at home, you'd always look forward to getting back from class. There was always that sense of comfort and ease when he was around. You had found a lovely routine quite easily. You'd both work or study, then cook, eat together and afterwards maybe you'd watch a movie or something. You were at a point where you could comment on his daily sugar intake, which he's started correcting since meeting you. He loved the Big Bang Theory and though you weren't such a fan, you loved the little laughs he let out and all the corrections he'd make. In general, you liked when he talked. Even more generally, you liked him. You also liked Friends and though Ross got on Spencer's nerves, he enjoyed being able to discuss it with you afterwards. The two of you got very close without even noticing.

Sometimes, you'd remember he wasn't just your roommate, but also a man. He'd make you a cup of tea and you'd stare at his hands a little too long while he stirred the honey in. Or he'd help you reach for a cup with his impressive height, his front just skimming your back with a shiver. He'd tell you to breathe and sit down when you were upset about something. A few times, he drove you home from a night out with your friends and laid his hand on your knee. He was the only one who remembered how you'd told him you wanted to kiss him.

With you, Spencer discovered many things he had never experienced before. A healthy, comforting and peaceful routine. A supporting, non-judgemental, healthy friendship. Easy laughter in the middle of the night and tired "good morning"s at dawn. Butterflies in his stomach whenever you touched him. A budding romance which kept him awake at night.

So when that was threatened, he just about lost it.

"Oh my God." "I can't believe this." "Is this a prank?" "Did someone call 911?" "What about her parents?" "Oh, that's sick."

Voices swarmed around your head, making you dizzy. Your hand rested over your mouth as you stared at the body strewn on the lawn. Much of the student body stood next to you, just as shocked. Mary Goldman had been her name. You'd crossed her just this morning in the main hall and had exchanged small smiles. You had thought that she looked really pretty today, but hadn't told her. You regretted that now. At the moment, her mascara had run down her cheeks and dried and her lipstick and been smudged. Bruises and cuts decorated her bare arms and legs and a big red stain sat on the side of her stomach. The contrast between her dead body and the green, thriving grass beneath her was haunting.

You turned away, feeling sick. You felt your friend's hand on your shoulder, a small source of comfort anchoring you to reality. Facing the road as you turned, you were surprised to see three big black SUVs speeding towards the crowd. You'd been expecting an ambulance, or cops. Not whoever these guys were. They screeched to a stop, drawing everyone's attention. A small dozen of people stormed out, all dressed differently though they all held the same aura of importance, knowledge and authority. You turned back to your friends. "Who are these-"

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard your name being called out urgently. You'd have recognised his voice amidst a thousand others. He spoke your name like no other. You frantically looked around, pushing your way to the large vehicles. When you finally spotted him, tears started pricking your eyes. "Spencer," you breathed in a half-sob. His eyes ran you over once, twice, assessing any damage. When he saw there was no physical wound, his shoulders sank in relief. He opened his arms and you rushed inside his warm embrace almost reflexively. Neither of you noticed the numerous pair of curious eyes observing your intimate exchange.

"Oh my God, Spence- What- What are you doing here?" you'd cried into his cardigan. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the comforting scent he always bore. He wrapped an arm around your waist and another around your shoulders, holding the back of your head in a consoling manner. "We're- We're taking this on as a case, sweets. Are you all right?" He knew it was a stupid question but all the emotions and tension were barely wearing off and he didn't know what else to say. You pulled away but he kept you at arm's length, holding your cold, shaking hands in his warm, steady ones. "I- Yeah, it's just- I- I saw her this morning! How could she- Why would someone do this to her? To- to anyone?!" Spencer cooed and pulled you into another tight hug as you continued to ramble through your tears. When you'd eventually calmed down thanks to his words of reassurance, he pulled away softly.

Spencer understood what you meant perhaps more than anyone. The sadness, the shock, the anger, the need to understand. He gently wiped away the mascara under your eyes with his thumb. "I know, I- It's- Even I don't always understand, sweetheart, so don't- Why don't you go home? I'd come with you but-" You nodded, biting your lower lip. He gave you a sad smile. "I promise I'll join you as soon as this is over. You- you can make yourself a cup of tea and process all this and pet Geoffrey, okay? Classes are going to be cancelled either way." "I don't want to-" The look in his eyes kept you from arguing further. You nodded, giving him another hug. Before you left, an older man came over to you.

"I'm sorry to bother you, miss. I'm Agent David Rossi. I just had a question-" "Rossi," interrupted Spencer with a stern tone you'd never heard before. The older Agent raised an eyebrow at him. "Just one question." He turned back to you. "At what time did you say you saw the victim?" You inhaled shakily, running a hand over your face. "Uh, it must have been around quarter to eleven. I think- Yeah, somewhere between ten thirty and eleven." "Thank you, miss." You didn't miss the glance shared between the two men before Rossi retreated.

"Who was that?" asked Emily as soon as you'd left and Spencer had joined them behind the police tape. "No one," Spencer brushed her off as he kneeled next to the victim. Strangely, he hated the idea of someone who knew you dying. It felt too close to home. "C'mon, man, you lost your shit this morning, a girl you clearly know very well runs into your arms, you snap at Rossi and you expect us to believe you?" Derek raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at the rest of the team. All were staring at him patiently. He stood up, swallowing.

"That was my roommate." He informed the team of your name and of how you'd been living together for a few years now. "Spencer, you've been living with a woman for years and you've never told us?!" Derek was all but hysteric. Hotch reminded him that everyone was entitled to a private life. "So, are you dating or something?" Emily prodded again. Spencer hesitated a second before answering. "No." Derek scoffed, appalled. "You mean to tell me you've been living with a beautiful woman like that for years and nothing's ever happened?!" "Not everyone is like you, Morgan," Emily reminded with a teasing smirk. Derek sent her an unimpressed look. "Look, let's all grill Spencer later, we have a case to focus on right now." Rossi, ever the voice of reason, directed everyone's attention back to the corpse laying next to them.

Needless to say, the BAU team did not need to interrogate Spencer or attack him with incessant questions to find much out. They'd seen by his behaviour that very morning how much he cared about you. They'd seen how relieved he had been when he'd seen you safe and sound. They'd noticed you'd only started crying when you'd seen him, a big sign of trust. They had never heard him call another by pet names such as "sweets" or "sweetheart". They'd read both of your body languages like a children's book and translated it easily.

Love. Comfort. Peace. Ease.

[secretlysimpash]

Pt. 2 of this

Alpha Simon has been known to share with the sergeants, and his omega is no different. How can he deny the two rutting alphas in their time of need :(

!!!! MDNI !!!

warning(s): reader is female, typical A/B/O shit (knots, heats, ruts, mates, marks, slick, ect), oral (fem receiving), poly relationship, nipple play

So for four days, you stayed with Ghost in his room. Half of the time was spent with the two of you being bound together by his knot, and the other half was spent with him pampering you and showing you what a good alpha he can be for you. He made a nest for you, provided any and all food and drinks that you requested, ran your baths so he could bathe you, and gave you clothes to wear since yours were torn to ribbons that first day together. The clothes might be about four sizes too big for you, but that’s fine…At least they smell like him. Also during your time together, you learned some things about your impromptu mate.

One, his name is Ghost. Or more accurately, Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley. Though you’ve really taken to calling him “alpha”, which he has no problem with.  Two, everyone on 141 is an alpha. Most of the other groups they deal with are too, with some betas here and there. An omega in these parts is rare…An unmated omega who goes without blockers, suppressants, or the patches like you did before that fateful day is even more rare.  And three…Two of his teammates are going into a rut soon. It’ll be just as bad as his rut, he assumes.

“Poor bastards. No omegas to help ‘em out.” He muses as he strokes your head soothingly, letting you nurse a cup of chamomile he fixed for you. You’re surrounded by blankets and pillows, all that smell perfectly like him. Leather and the woods, the scent that you’ve grown accustomed to over such a short period of time, just barely a week of being his mate.

“Can’t they just…Take suppressants?” You ask, gazing up at Ghost. “That’s what most alphas I know do, anyway.”

“Mh, yeah, well…” Ghost just grunts for the rest of his response instead of using words, smoothing your hair down a bit as best as he can before kissing the crown of your head. He stands slowly, and when your eyes follow him curiously, his eyes crinkle in a smile.

“Just grabbing somethin’ for the nest, bird. I’ll be quick.” He reassures before slipping out of his quarters, leaving you there on the bed. 

For the next five minutes or so, you finish off the rest of the chamomile and adjust your position on the bed. The big, bad alpha has been knot-deep inside of you more times than you can count already, and your body is a bit sore from it. When the door opens again, you lift your head and smile as you see Ghost reenter. He’s carrying a thick, blue throw blanket that looks softer than any of the other blankets on the bed…And a big pillow covered in an army green pillowcase. 

You shift a bit on the bed as he gets closer, his scent encircling you along with two other distinct scents.

The source of those scents is made clear once he makes his way over. The blanket, which he drapes around you, smells strongly of a pine forest. Similar to Ghost’s woody scent, but no trace of leather like your mate. And the pillow that he hands you smells strongly of burning wood…It’s a rich scent that awakens something inside of you as you nuzzle your nose into it. 

“These…Don’t smell like you.” You point out, muffled by the pillow that you bury your face into. Ghost can’t help but laugh gruffly at the sight.

“Good observation, bird…” He muses, placing a hand on your back as he watches you closely. Lips curled up slightly into a half smile, he decides to ask, “Remember how I mentioned the sergeants earlier? My best mates?” 

. . .

It turns out that the piney scent belongs to an excitable alpha who prefers to be called Soap, and the warm, smokey scent belongs to a quieter alpha that goes by Gaz. You’re in the process of becoming acquainted with them since Ghost called the two rutting sergeants to his room. He asked if you’d be okay with giving his best mates a hand with their ruts. The answer came quick as slick formed between your legs, nose buried into Gaz’s pillow, and gripped the blanket perfumed in Soap’s scent tightly in your hands. 

Getting acquainted with the sergeants currently consists of Soap, the bulky Scot, settled right between your thighs. He was granted easy access to your drenched cunt, since the only thing you were wearing prior to them entering Ghost’s room was a jacket with “RILEY” in big letters across the back, which only reaches just above your knees. Soap’s tongue glides between your folds, swirling it around the bundle of nerves at the top as he very easily slipped two fingers into you.

“Fuckin’ hell, tastes like heaven…” He slurred against your clit before sucking harshly, eliciting a mewl of pleasure from you. There’s a rumble in his chest, half purr and half growl as he continues.

Meanwhile, Gaz is behind you, hands cupping your breasts. The jacket of your alpha was zipped all the way down, giving him access to your body. One hand pinches and tugs at one of your nipples, while the other just squeezes at your other breast. He’s inhaling your scent, the same way you were huffing his from his pillow not too long ago. 

“How’d you manage to bag us an omega…A bloody perfect omega at that, Ghost…?” He asked before shifting a bit behind you. Once the alpha moved out from behind you, he positioned himself so he could take one of your breasts into his mouth. Your poor, pre-heat brain can’t even register the fact that he said Ghost “bagged us an omega”.

You gasp out and squirm as he sucks on one soft mound, and squeezes the other. When he alternates, you feel Soap add a third finger. The sounds of sucking and the lewd squelch of your slick fill the room, punctuated by your moans and satisfied growls from the two alphas who are practically attached to your body.

The whole time, your mate is watching through lidded eyes. He’s not far, supervising the whole thing to make sure they don’t rough his mate up. He pipes up with the occasional “Not so rough, Garrick” or “Be gentle, Johnny. Gentler, she’s sensitive”. And whenever your eyes meet his, he gives you a reassuring look. You discussed right before they came in that he’d drag the both of them off of you at a moment’s notice. The binding mark on your scent gland feels as if it pulses, knowing that your alpha will look after you. 

The two alpha sergeants continue their ministrations, with Soap eating you like you’re his last meal and Gaz sucking, kissing, and nipping at your breasts. When you tumble over the edge of your climax, they switch positions…With the blue-eyed Scot turning for a moment as Gaz gets into position. The sight of your mate and the mohawked alpha making out and sharing the taste of your slick…It certainly does something to you. Something that Gaz takes notice of. 

“Clenching around nothing, love…” He coos, half to you and half to your soaked center, causing you to fluster and whine softly with need. “So pretty, can’t wait to get you on my knot…”So now you have a mate, two extra maybe-mates who are both in the beginnings of their ruts, and your own heat is right around the corner. You should really thank Laswell for this…Opportunity. An opportunity she tried to avoid from happening, but…Happy accidents, right?

[lovebugism]

saw you were looking for shy!reader requests and now I'm having visions of nighttime colorful twinkly lights, snow swirling in the frigid air, frost-bitten noses and tentative glances...

what about reader getting roped into holiday caroling with the gang, including her crush, Eddie? Or some other festive outdoor activity, preferably one which allows them to subtly get closer to each other without giving away their feelings 🤭 I'm feeling those 'will we won't we' vibes tonight hehe

wow. here's me casually writing a wee drabble for someone who's written some of my favorite works on this app lol. hope you like it angel :D !! — eddie keeps shy!you company during a holiday party at the wheeler house (friends to lovers, fluff | 0.9k)

The weirdo has a soft spot for the princess.

The Princess, he calls you, ‘cause Mike once convinced you to sub in on a D&D campaign some months ago now. You were a rebellious fairy from a clan of royal fae sent to guide the rag-tag troop through an enchanted, labyrinthine forest. 

You had dressed the part, too, despite having zero knowledge of the game itself. You waltzed into the Hellfire room in a flouncy pink dress, iridescent fairy wings from last halloween, and a crown of artificial flowers.

Eddie remembers you that way, still. A sweet and timid thing, with a big heart and a pretty laugh. Even now, as you sit all alone in the Wheeler’s backyard, away from all the chaos and the twinkling lights, bathed beneath a glowing pink sky and sparkling snow — you’re still such an ethereal thing. A heavenly being, flung from space.

He weaves through the quaint party and over to you, carrying a steaming cup of cocoa in one hand and his bleeding heart in the other. 

“How’s it going over here?” Eddie asks over the soft holiday music playing closer to the crowd.

You blink up at him with wide, glassy eyes, as though he’s just jolted you out of some sort of daze. “Oh. Yeah. Fine,” you stammer finally, smile wavering when Eddie’s lopsided grin makes you forget how to breathe. 

You tug the blanket tighter around your shoulders with cold and clammy hands. Hiding feels instinctual to you now.

“Freezing to death?” the boy quips and fights to keep his own teeth from chattering.

The sight of him before you, with snowflakes clinging to his curls and his pale skin softly flushed with wintertime, makes you smile more sincerely than you mean to.

“Something like that,” you nod.

Eddie extends a ringed hand towards you then, offering the paper cup of hot chocolate keeping his aching fingers warm. “Want some?”

“Oh, no— It’s okay,” you decline with a polite shake of your head while your chest blazes with misplaced embarrassment. “I— I can get my own.”

“Well, between us, I didn’t really want it in the first place,” Eddie confesses lowly, taking another step closer until you can smell the deep musk of his cologne. You tilt your chin to follow his gaze. “Little Holly offered me a cup, and I didn’t know how to say no.”

The thought of Eddie Munson, in all his daunting black and silver, having a sweet spot for the youngest Wheeler (whom he exclusively refers to as Little Holly) makes your chest go all warm. 

Holly has her own innocent affections for him, too — you know for a fact she’s got an obsession with his bat tattoo that’s driving Ted insane.

You duck your head in a feeble attempt to hide your smile. Eddie sees it anyway, though, and smiles at your smiling, perhaps wider than he realizes. 

You take the cocoa from him with gentle, trembling hands. His heart skips a beat when your fingers brush over the back of his own. Yours stops entirely when he sits down on the bench beside you — not unwelcome, of course, but more wanted next to you than you’d ever be willing to admit out loud.

Eddie hisses through his teeth and tenses beside you through a shiver. You watch him stick his pale hands in the pocket of his thin leather jacket, which he wears in spite of the inclement weather.

“Are you sure you don’t want another jacket?” you wonder sheepishly, peering at the boy through the corner of your eye.

“I’m good, princess,” he insists with a shake of his head, just before his glowing nose sniffles. “I’m a rockstar, remember? Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“Really?” you hum, quiet and sarcastic.

“Yeah. Freezing to death is, like, the least metal thing ever. It’s like, you know, using an umbrella when it’s raining— It just makes you ten times less cool.”

You shift on the creaking bench and smile at your cup of cocoa. “Well, me and the ladybug umbrella I’ve had since I was nine respectfully disagree,” you joke in shy murmurs, still so meek in humor.

Eddie laughs. You feel him trembling with it beside you from where his shoulder’s pressed against yours. You see his teeth chattering just before he lifts his hands over his mouth, breathing hard into his palms in a desperate attempt to warm them.

Your hands ache with the sudden urge to cover him up. They tremble with uncertainty when you drag the borrowed blanket from your left shoulder to drape the excess along his back. Eddie peers at you with a chocolate button-eyed look as you shift closer into him, made warm and alive by your proximity alone. He’s grateful for the act of kindness, still.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, gaze averted and cheeks pink. You’d almost think he was shy.

“Don’t mention it,” you murmur back and mean it.

“You know…” the boy lilts, nicotine-spearmint breath fanning warm across your cheek. You can hear the smile in his voice without ever even looking at him. “If you just wanted to be close to me, you coulda just said.”

You flash him a stern look from beneath your lashes, which still manages to look just as soft as the rest of you. You try not to think about how close he is to you now — close enough to make out every distinct shape of the snowflakes sticking to his wild hair.

“Don’t make it weird,” you plea through a deadpan.

“That’s a lot to ask of the local weirdo,” Eddie scoffs. “I mean, it’s kinda in the name, princess.”

“Sorry for not wanting you to freeze to death.”

Eddie meets your narrowed eyes with a crooked, pink grin dripping with mischief. 

“I like you, too, princess,” he croons quietly.

Your chest pinches. You have to remind yourself to breathe. “I didn’t say that,” you shake your head and turn away, looking back to the crowd mingling beneath falling snow and fairy lights. You don’t know why Eddie would want to be here with you, instead of over there with them. 

Eddie doesn’t know how he could want a single other thing than to be here with you.

“Didn’t have to,” you hear him say as he pulls the blanket tighter over his shoulder and shuffles closer into you. For warmth, you tell yourself. For warmth and not a damn thing else.

[folkwhoreberry]

Danny Ric x Oscars sister who’s like a violinist or soemthing creative in the FIA, so she’s at the races. Maybe she’s like super super weird and pessimistic like Tori Spring and likes to do soemthing silly like building dioramas LOLLL

Yeah, So What? Everybody’s Weird

daniel ricciardo x reader

or... the one where daniel gets abducted by aliens

word count : 937

warning : unrealistic (or not?) imaginations, english is not my first language!!!

on the radio : freeze your brain by from heathers

🍯🦡

you never quite understood why you were in the fia. after all, your job was “creative event logistics,” which was just a fancy way of saying you had to find clever solutions for logistical nightmares. but mostly, you spent your free time in the paddock building dioramas. not just any dioramas, though - yours were masterpieces of chaos. monaco? there was always a tidal wave. spa? suddenly in the middle of a dense, monster-filled forest. silverstone? consumed by an inexplicable sinkhole. no one asked why you did it, and you liked it that way.

you weren’t exactly an optimist. okay, let’s be real - you were a walking cloud of pessimism. you had this deep, unwavering belief that something would always go wrong, whether it was a pit stop catastrophe, a sudden storm, or, your personal favorite, a freak crash that would involve a rogue cow from the countryside. oscar, your brother, called you “grim” and laughed it off. the rest of the grid just found you a little unsettling, especially when you casually brought up how a massive engine failure could cause a car to explode. just casual race things.

but not daniel. no, daniel ricciardo found your weirdness… charming? confusing, yes, but somehow, he liked it.

you first met him when you were setting up a particularly complex diorama for the hungarian grand prix. it involved an alien invasion, complete with miniature ufos and tiny f1 cars being lifted off the track. you were deeply engrossed in sticking a model of max verstappen into a green plastic claw when you heard that unmistakable australian accent.

“that’s… terrifying,” daniel said, crouching beside you to get a closer look. “is that me about to be abducted by an alien?”

you glanced at the tiny replica of his helmet sticking out of a ufo’s tractor beam and shrugged. “yeah, but don’t worry, you’ll probably survive. or not. I haven’t decided yet.”

daniel grinned. “I love it. you know, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to race in space. reckon I’d still beat max.”

you blinked at him. usually, people just backed away slowly when you went on about hypothetical disasters. but here he was, smiling like you’d just paid him a compliment.

“maybe,” you said. “or maybe you’ll get brainwashed by aliens and lose all your steering ability.”

he laughed, the kind of laugh that echoed around the paddock and drew curious glances. “you’ve got a dark mind, y/n.”

“I prefer ‘realistic’,” you muttered, going back to your work.

from that day on, daniel kept showing up. he’d pop by whenever you were working on a new disaster, always offering weird suggestions like, “what if it rained donuts during the singapore gp?” or “have you ever considered adding a giant squid to the monaco harbor?” you started keeping a notebook just for his absurd ideas, most of which you’d never use, but it amused you.

the thing about daniel was that he was endlessly positive, a ball of chaotic sunshine who seemed immune to the gloom that hung around your brain like a permanent fog. at first, you thought it was annoying. how could anyone be so… chipper? but then it became kind of nice, like you were a bitter coffee and he was the sugar. maybe you needed that sometimes.

the grid noticed, of course. oscar definitely noticed. he cornered you one evening in the paddock, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“are you and daniel… a thing?” he asked, like the thought was more horrifying than any of your diorama disasters.

you snorted. “me? and daniel? no. I’m pretty sure he’s just fascinated by how weird I am.”

oscar raised an eyebrow. “he’s fascinated by something, all right. just don’t get too distracted. I don’t need daniel ricciardo messing with my head before a race.”

“you’re being paranoid,” you told him, though you couldn’t help but wonder if oscar had a point. not that you’d ever admit it.

things took a turn one night after the canadian grand prix. you were sitting in your tiny hotel room, working on yet another apocalyptic diorama (this one involved an earthquake hitting the montreal circuit), when there was a knock on your door.

you opened it to find daniel standing there, holding what appeared to be a box of miniature race car parts.

“what’s this?” you asked, already suspicious.

“for your next masterpiece,” he said, stepping into the room and dumping the box on your bed. “I figured if you’re gonna keep making these, you could use some real f1 car pieces. authenticity, you know?”

you stared at him, bewildered. “you brought me spare parts… for dioramas?”

daniel nodded, his grin widening. “yep! thought you’d like ‘em. you’re always talking about how the cars would crumble during a meteor shower, so now you can show me exactly how.”

it was then, staring at this man who had just gifted you a box of tiny car pieces, that you realized something horrifying. you liked him. like, actually liked him.

you groaned inwardly. this was the worst. liking daniel ricciardo? the human equivalent of a golden retriever? you could already feel the impending disaster. maybe he’d get bored of your dark humor. maybe he’d try to “fix” you with positive affirmations. or worse, maybe he’d start doing the thing people always did - expecting you to be someone you weren’t.

but then daniel plopped himself down on the floor, crossing his legs, and started rummaging through the box, excitedly babbling about how cool your earthquake diorama would look with actual f1 car debris.

maybe… maybe this wasn’t a disaster after all.

————————————————————————————

© all rights reserved to folkwhoreberry. no stealing or copying will be tolerated.

a/n : I let my weird girl out with this one guyssss take me back to my diy days 💔💔

[serene-sky-kid]

today with the drawing of the heights of the characters, I felt like talking a little bit about Reah, so it's time, I'll talk a little bit about her under the cut for those who want to read

Reah, hearth and icarus were affected by something in the past, the reason why reah has her wings fused with her arms and also why she is so tall and has sharp teeth. Her wings/arms do not function properly as either wings or arms, Her wings are too heavy and short to compensate for her height and the shape makes all her movements awkward. Reah moves mainly by walking or gliding and rarely flies. She usually walks bent over which makes her look a bit shorter, feathers are oddly heavy so at this point in her life that she has two children, she leaves the hard work to “the younger ones” and she just spends time at home or taking care of her large number of pets as she calls them (she has a sort of light creature sanctuary in a cave under her house xd).

I think all the time she lived alone before meeting Orion and Berk took its toll on her and her mental sanity is a bit questionable, I'd say she's a bit morally gray. Her previous loneliness was self-induced, she has no interest in other skykids, but she has a soft spot for moths in the sense that she wouldn't be able to harm them and has no pity for those who intentionally harm moths. A veteran skykid? be on your own, moth? come with me baby, I'll take care of you. Anyway, most of the moths run away from her and most of the grown skykids prefer to avoid her (too tall, feral, looks like she is going to eat you, I don't know, I would avoid her too).

Berk stayed with her because reah saved Taro and he said “she is my fren now”. Orion, orion was kidnapped, there is no other way to describe it, Reah found a dirty fox in the middle of the forest and tamed it, end of story.

... Yeah the lil insecure moth was orion

[deadhands69]

Something More [than a storm]

Katsuki Bakugo x gn/afab reader

MDNI

Setting: fuckboy!Bakugo, mid-time skip, Senior Year of College. Reader did not attend UA high, just joined for university. Enemies to lovers (with a lot in between.)

Warnings, etc: this series contains smut, angst, light violence/injuries, drinking/intoxication, swearing.

part 1  -  part 2  -  part 3  -  this is part 4  -  part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

Overnight, the snow accumulated four feet against the doors. With the few heat related quirks around the building, you aren't really trapped but no one has bothered to clear the way, enjoying the snow day instead. Even with everyone milling about the common space, a hush surrounds everything. It's pretty calming. 

“You think Professor Aizawa still walks his cats in this,“ Mina muses, sipping her second hot chocolate of the day.

“Probably just the really fluffy ones,” Jiro answers, “did you see Shinso’s arms that time he tried to take them in the rain?” 

The three of you laugh, posted up in your usual corner of the common room near an almost completely whited-out window. Happily, you savor the first good cup of coffee you've had in days.

A gust of wind takes the top layer of snow away and your mind drifts to the forest with it.

Everything seemed to happen so naturally last night but in the clear light of day, you aren't sure how you feel anymore. He’s beautiful and hot, sure, but being around him means having to deal with him. You know how sharp his words can get. But kissing Bakugo, if that’s what you’d call it, was nice. Maybe that’s all it has to be.

Your friends are staring at you.

“Uhm [y/n], you okay?” Jiro asks.

Shit.

“Can I tell you guys a secret?” you whisper, immediately regretting it. 

“You can,” Mina teases, lightly elbowing your side, “but I think we already know who your secret is.”

“You didn't...” Jiro’s wide eyes are locked on you. 

Silently, you wish the blizzard would swallow you whole. 

“It's not like that,” you mumble, “not quite at least.”

The pink face to your left closes in on you, “Go on.”

“Last night, I kissed him. Or he kissed me. Well, more bit me...” you trail off, knowing your words won’t do any justice to the story.

“He…bit you?” Mina asks as Jiro cringes next to her. “That’s interesting.”

“No, it was cute. I think?” they have you second guessing yourself, maybe it is a bit weird. You tell them what happened. How he fell and landed on you (they both agree that had to be on purpose, having never seen him trip over anything before.) When you get to the kiss part, you’re still not sure how to explain it.

“I’m not sure what else you would expect from Bakugo, he’s kind of a weird guy,” says Jiro.

“Yeah, and I mean that’s why I told him to hang out with you. I thought you’d hit it off as friends but I guess I’m not surprised. That story kind of fits you both,” Mina adds.

“Fits us both?” you ask.

“Let’s be honest [y/n], if anyone got all cutesy and romantic with you, you would run,” Jiro laughs. 

Across the room, Bakugo eyes your group giggling as you bury your face in your hands. Suddenly your phone vibrates. 

Bakugo [Don't make a big deal out of it.] Bakugo [I know what you’re talking about.] You [don’t make a big deal of Aizawa walking his cats in the snow?] Bakugo [Oh.] Bakugo [That tracks.] You [🙄] Bakugo [If you wanna impress him, let’s get a good grade. We still have to do the written part of the project.] Bakugo [Preferably sooner rather than later. You free tonight?] You [nope, verrrryyy busy] Bakugo [wtf do you have going on?] You [sunbathing] You [rooftop bars] You [yeah, tonight works] Bakugo [🙄] Bakugo [my room?] You [yeah, 7pm?] Bakugo [That works.] Bakugo [Oh, and don’t drink too much.] You [?] Bakugo [Soy Sauce and Dunce Face just walked in with a case of liquor.]

As you could have predicted, the vibe shifted quickly. Kaminari approached your table with a bottle of Rumplemintz, topping off everyone’s drinks but yours (he offered but you kept your hand firmly planted over your coffee.) Not drinking would be easy with your recent hangover still fresh in your mind.

Within the hour the volume had doubled. The boisterousness spread both in and outside, a snowball fight breaking out in the afternoon.  

After you are all sufficiently soaked through your winter clothes, you head inside to shower, change, and eat something warm. 

Both of your friends are a bit tipsy and opt to head back to their rooms after dinner rather than drinking more. Jiro warning you to not do anything stupid while Mina agrees with her before winking over her shoulder as they leave. The common room has calmed down quite a bit when you go back to your dorm to get ready. 

Get ready for what? You wonder how awkward the situation you're walking into will be. Will he just ignore what happened? Part of you hopes so, another part of you - no, let's not think about that. You’re still coming around to the idea of tolerating him, best not to let your mind wander too far. It was a one time thing specific to the situation and that’s enough.

Walking the fine line between overdressed and what Bakugo would consider too frumpy, you opt to wear skinny jeans, boots, and an oversized sweater. Touching your makeup up slightly, grabbing your backpack, then you're out the door. 

You vaguely know which room he is in but were glad when he texted you the number just in case. Arriving at his door three minutes early, you knock hesitantly. He opens quickly, ushering you in.

Dark.

Blackout curtains block the light from outside with a few lamps here and there to illuminate his room. This can only do so much when nearly all of his furniture and bedding are stark black. His decor is minimalist. Everything is perfectly in order, even the notes on his desk are organized. You weren’t sure what to expect but somehow it fits him. 

He pulls up an extra chair by his desk, gesturing for you to sit then the two of you get to work.

Much to your delight (or dismay?), he never mentions the kiss. Carrying on relatively professionally outside of a few jokes here and there. 

You’re still nervous.

Once more, his proximity makes your heart rate skyrocket. Sitting this close to him, the two of you bumping into each other every time you need to grab notes from across the desk. It’s not lost on you - the way his bare wrists feel brushing over your knuckles. His warm skin leaves tingles on yours. This is also the first time you’ve gotten a good look at him in a tank top, having to stop yourself from staring at the dragon tattoo covering his scarred right arm. In spite of the distractions, the work is easy - it’s just a matter of putting it on paper. You get through it.

“Done,” you sigh in relief after typing out the final paragraph. 

In one quick hour, you finished the project you’d been dragging out for weeks.

“Looks good to me,” he confirms, standing to stretch. “I kinda thought we’d be working on this for longer, what are your plans for the rest of the night?” 

Admittedly, you have no plans. It’s a little after eight and you were more than caught up on sleep. Normally, you’d text your friends but everyone is passed out by now. Almost everyone. 

Packing your backpack, you mention a scary movie you’d been meaning to watch.

“No shit?” he laughs, “I rented that one last night and fell asleep right after I started it. There’s still a few more hours on the rental if you wanna watch it?”

Watch a movie alone in his dark room…with him? Seems like a normal friend thing to do, you reassure yourself before answering, “yeah.”

About 45 minutes in, you both realize your mistake. The movie you thought was a thriller turned out to be a romance drama. You’d both misinterpreted the title and quick preview then spent the first half waiting for the killer to show up. After a while, you finally said something and he looked up a synopsis. Neither of you moved to turn it off, opting to talk instead, and tuning back in every once in a while to make fun of the overdramatic plot. 

“How’d everything heal?” he eventually asks after catching a glimpse of your wrist as you adjust your sleeve. 

“Healed fine,” you pull your sweater off to show him before remembering how revealing the tank top you threw on underneath is. Momentarily, you pause then decide it doesn’t really matter. It’s a snow day movie night, there’s not exactly a dress code. And it’s not a big deal, you’re just showing a friend a scar. People do that.

If he does notice, he does a great job hiding it. 

“Did heal well,“ he mumbles, running his fingers along your back, “it doesn’t hurt, right?”

“Nope.” You’re both silent for a while, trying hard to look engrossed in the movie as one of the characters drops to their knees crying in the rain. All you can think about is the thrilling feeling of his hand still lingering on your back.  The credits roll but neither of you could recount what happened if asked.

“Well, that was stupid,” he says, slamming his laptop shut. 

“And really misleading, they should give us two hours of our lives back for that,” you laugh.

“Nah, just the first. The rest is kinda on us. We could’ve found something better to do,” his hand slides to the small of your back.

“Oh yeah?” you ask leaning towards him, unsure again why you’re flirting with Katsuki Bakugo.

“Yeah,” he smiles widely before leaning in to kiss you. Pressing you back onto his bed, this time with less (but still some) teeth. One of his hands tangles in your hair, pulling as your mouth opens wide for him. Your tongues meet. He tastes like a snow day: vanilla, mint, and bad decisions. 

His other hand grips your hip, pulling you closer as he grinds you against his leg. You gasp out a moan before realizing what happened.

Are you about to become one of the girls you make fun of who ends up in his bed only to be forgotten in the morning?

Fuck.

No, you’re not.

Pushing away, you jump up and run out the door.

part 5 - series masterlist - bnha masterlist

Taglist: @anonymity-222 @k1tk4tkatsuki

[rafeandonlyrafe]

arsonist's lullaby

words: 3.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, female receiving oral pregnancy, proposal <3, established relationship, arson, lots of talk about fire lol, camping, mentions of rafes bad childhood

you watch as rafe strikes the match. he prefers it over a lighter, holding it between his finger as the flame inches lower, lower, until it gets too hot and he's tossing it into the fire pit, right on the bushel of kindling that instantly takes light.

rafe looks up at you, the fire sparking in the reflection of his eyes as you make your way towards him. he doesn't have to say a word, the way he sits back in the camping chair, silently telling you to take a seat.

you slide onto his lap, placing yourself sideways with your bum on his thigh. you look at rafe for a minute, just admiring his illuminated features as the orange flame flares up and down with the wind. you listen to the sound of rustling leaves, the distant lapping of waves on the nearby lake.

“are you having fun?” you ask rafe. he may be your boyfriend of two years, but it can still sometimes be hard to tell.

rafe nods, before grinning and leaning forward to press a kiss towards your lips. “i always have fun with you.”

you weren't sure that he would enjoy camping, especially tent camping it, but you always used to go every summer with your parents, and when you asked if he would be down to go, he didn't think twice before saying yes.

“you're sweet.” you giggle, leaning in to press the side of your head against his shoulder, tucking your nose into his neck, inhaling his scent after a long day of relaxing on the beach and taking strolls through the well trodden paths through the woods.

“you're probably the only person alive who would call me sweet.” rafe places his hand on your hip, squeezing it gently. 

it's not that rafe puts on a scary demeanor with everyone else, it's more like that's his natural state and you bring out a side meant just for you.

you kiss his neck, it's not enough, but it's a thank you for his vulnerability, his willingness to please you.

you both sit in comfortable silence, your eyes closed as you recover from the day while rafe stares at the fire, the flames calling to him. he holds you tight to his side as he reaches and tosses another log into the fire, a spit of sparks shooting up.

“who taught you how to build fires?” you ask rafe, looking at the now smashed teepee of sticks he had built up.

“i guess i taught myself.” rafe shrugs. “i always used to build them in the fire pit in the backyard whenever my dad would take sarah to softball practice.

“mmm.” you hum, pressing another kiss to his neck, before moving to his jaw. “we should go into the tent.”

“yeah.” rafe nods, picking you up effortlessly, his pants already beginning to swell just from having your lips on him. he walks quickly to the tent, having to duck down to fit inside, placing you on the inflatable mattress.

you let out a giggle as rafe zips the tent closed before tugging his shirt off, opening your arms up as he sets himself over your body, one hand sneaking beneath your shirt to your waist while his other hand cups your jaw, holding you in place as he kisses you.

“i love you.” you whisper to rafe before picking your shoulders up off the bed, letting him pull your shirt off.

the windows of the tent are zipped mostly shut to protect your privacy from those camping nearby, but you left the top open to just a screen after double checking there was no rain forecasted.

you look up at the stars, your soft moans and rafes low grunts lost to the music of the forest as the wind moves through the trees.

--

“here, baby.” you hand a crumpled up newspaper to rafe. “we need it hot to roast our marshmallows.”

“mhm.” rafe finished building the fire, the embers still slightly warm from your fire last night before he places the newspaper at the center to get the fire going quicker.

“gosh, i can't wait.” you pat your stomach. “it's been so long since ive made s'mores.”

“i don't think ive had them in… ten years.” it may even be more than that. rafe hates the way it makes you pout. his lonely childhood hurts you as much as it hurts him. he fears sometimes even more from your reactions.

“come on.” rafe taps his knee. you really should have just packed one camping chair, it's not like you're sitting on your own as he pulls you into his lap, pressing kisses to your cheeks and jaw as you wait for the fire to grow.

“mmm, the s'mores…” you blink your eyes open, not even realizimg that you've relaxed so completely against rafe that you were almost asleep.

“ill make one for you.” rafe grabs the stick from the nearby table. “how burnt do you like your marshmallow?”

“just a bit.” you smile as rafe rolls his eyes. 

“i like mine burnt.” 

“oh im sooo surprised.” you joke as rafe sticks the marshmallow into the flames, just until it gets gooey before making your smore for you, adding extra chocolate for your sweet tooth.

“so good.” you moan when you take a bite, making rafe shift you slightly on his lap.

you eat s'mores as the moon rises, minutes ticking by until all of your graham crackers are used up.

you let out a yawn, eyes blinking the smoke out of your eyes as the wind momentarily shifts before blowing back in the same direction.

“gonna go put pajamas on.” you press a kiss to rafes forehead before moving to the tent, glad you went for a bigger size with enough room for you to get dressed and undressed. you sigh as you sit down to change your socks before laying back on the bed, not even realizing how exhausted you truly were as sleep takes you.

rafe checks on you after a few minutes, smiling when he realizes you're absolutely fine, just already in a deep sleep. he zips the tent back shut, keeping one eye on it as he goes back to the fire, building it up bigger and bigger as the flames grow, watching with excitement until he runs out of logs to add.

--

rafes fingers twitch. you've been home for two weeks from the camping trip. he wonders when is it an appropriate time to suggest going again. he longs to feel the heat of a blaze against his skin, to feel the ultimate power of building a fire to his will.

“hey.” your soft voice interrupts his thoughts, his face easily shifting from one of intensity to soft love.

“hi baby.” rafe presses his lips against yours in a greeting.

“missed you today.” you hum. you work two days a week at a local animal shelter, mainly just to keep busy and do something to feel accomplished, and they almost always coincide with rafes work, but today was a rare occasion where he was off and you were busy, leaving rafe to roam the house in boredom until you get home.

“missed you more.” he says, placing a hand on your waist to pull you into a more intense kiss, his lips smashing against yours. “how's casper?”

you blink, it takes you a second for your mind to start working after the passionate kiss before the corners of your lips turn down. “still no one wants to adopt him.”

you couldn't believe it at first when the adorable little white puppy came into the shelter, you thought for sure someone would snatch him up instantly, until you saw that he's missing his two hind legs. clearly people in the area don't want to take the initiative to have a dog with only two front legs.

“im sorry.” rafe sighs. he kisses you again, this time soft and comforting. “it's best he waits for the right family though, yeah?”

rafe echos the words you always say when a dog takes a little longer to get adopted. better to wait for a forever family than to wind up back in the shelter after a few weeks.

“yeah.” you nod. “so, what'd you get up to today?”

“nothing.” rafe says honestly. 

“nothing?” you raise your eyebrow. “what are you gonna do when im gone next weekend?”

rafe let's out a curse. he forgot you were going on a girls trip. out of town to some spa that he has the address and phone number, along with any other information he might need to know, typed out in his notes when you first told him about it. just in case.

“shit, i was trying so hard not to think about it that i pushed it out of my mind completely.” he says with a light chuckle, but his face isn't one of happiness. 

you swipe your hand through his hair, combing back the dark blond strands. “maybe we need to get you a hobby. you can build a lego set or do a paint by numbers.”

it's mostly a joke, but you do want rafe to enjoy himself while you're away. you make a mental note to yourself as you go into the kitchen to make dinner to find something to keep his mind occupied while you're separated for the first time for longer than a day since you began dating.

--

rafe looks at your contact on his phone. his finger twitches over the call button, despite you just getting off the phone after talking for an hour, skipping out on drinks with the girls to chat, but you didn't tell rafe that, telling him everyone was in their rooms and that you had plenty of free time to keep him occupied.

he sighs, clicking on your contact picture. you set it at the beginning of your relationship, a kissy face selfie and rafe hasn't changed it since.

“fuck.” he groans, heartbeat starting to rise as a bead of sweat forms on his forehead, anxiety building.

he walks out of the house, no set route in mind. rafe tells himself the walk will clear his head, but what he put in his pocket before leaving says different. he needs to get the feeling out somehow.

he walks and walks until it's dark outside, moving towards the run down side of town until he comes to a small shack, purposely taking mostly abandoned roads. rafe scopes out the area quickly, looking around to see if theres anyone nearby, close enough to see him.

when the coast is clear, rafe lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls the matchbox out of his pocket, a fresh one, having to repurchase after using an entire box camping. 

rafe isn’t sure how easily the place will light up. the shed looks dry and old, and when he looks inside, its empty other than some old long forgotten gardening equipment. rafe strikes a match and sets it on the wooden window sill, watching as it burns out. rafe continues striking the matches and tossing them at the shack as sparks ignite the scraps of wood. 

rafe steps back when he throws the last one, tossing the empty cardboard box into the flames as they slowly take over the structure. rafe smiles, the anxiety that was building up inside him blowing away with the smoke.

the flames eagerly ate up the wood, spreading quickly and before rafe knew it, the already unsturdy roof was collapsing in on itself, sparks adding to the stars in the sky.

he stands for a moment longer, the warm orange glow causing an odd comfort. rafe knows its wrong, but he can’t help that he feels better after setting the fire, walking away as the wood turns to ash, the shack long forgotten and reduced to nothing.

--

rafe paces, strikes a match and lets it burn to his fingertips before blowing it out, paces some more, then pulls out another match. he’s not anxious this time, doesn’t feel the itch to set a place ablaze as he did two nights ago, having to shower three times before he finally got the smell of smoke out of his hair.

now, he’s just impatient. the front door is open, letting in a cool breeze and giving him a view of the driveway as he walks around the foyer, waiting for your car to pull in, for you to finally return home.

rafe blows out a match right when he sees your car turn down the street, his eyes widening as he tosses the matchbox onto the hallway table, stepping out onto the porch, unable to keep himself farther away, moving down the steps as you pull into the driveway.

you barely put the car in park before you’re flying out the door, jumping into rafes arms as he spins you around.

“oh my god, ive missed you so fucking much.” rafes arms are wrapped firmly around your waist, not letting your feet touch the ground as he walks towards the door.

“wait, rafe-” you giggle.

“we can bring your bags in later.” rafe says. he has other priorities.

“no, the car is still on!” rafe sighs and sets you down. you quickly run to pull the keys out of the car and lock it, rushing inside with rafe quick behind you. you toss the keys on the table, noting the matchbox but you're too busy being swept off your feet and carried up the stairs by rafe.

he lays you on the bed, only now pausing to take a minute. you may have only been gone for three nights in total, but it felt like a lifetime to rafe. he leans forward, pressing your lips together before continuing to just stare at you.

“stop looking.” you tug at rafes collar. “do something.”

rafe listens to your command, moving quickly to sink down the bed, tossing the hem of your dress up, not even bothering to take your underwear all the way off, simply sliding them to the side and burying his tongue in your cunt.

 --

“did you see a second shack burned down?” you look up from where you were mindlessly scrolling on social media. 

of course rafe knows. but he certainly isn’t going to just admit that to you. he can’t have you leaving him, he’d probably burn the whole town down if that happened.

“oh really?” rafe says, keeping his voice level, disinterested.

“yeah.” you zoom in closer on the picture, nothing more than a pile of ashes and dust. “damn, i wish i could have seen it on fire.”

the fire department didn’t even get to it until it was completely burned to the ground with how isolated it was. just as rafe planned it.

“really?” his eyebrows raise.

“yeah.” you nod. “i love fire.” you give him a mischievous smile. you surely don’t mean it in the same way as rafe does, but he feels a little more at peace. if you somehow found out, maybe you wouldn’t leave him because of it, or at least hear him out.

“hmm.” rafe just hums.

“we should build a firepit in the backyard.” you mumble the suggestion, but rafe quickly nods. “yes.”

you giggle, setting your phone down to move off the armchair and onto the couch next to rafe. “you wanna keep practicing your fire setup for the next time we go camping?”

rafe smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “maybe.”

--

rafe tosses another log onto the flame, smiling at you as you rock gently in the hammock, set up precariously close to the fire so you can feel its warmth as you relax, the summer coming to an end.

“you look beautiful.” rafe says. the orange light illuminates your features, along with the twinkling fairy lights strung up along the back porch.

you just smile at him. you don’t need words, not anymore.

rafe pokes at the fire with a stick, opening up the center to allow more airflow into the bottom as the flame grows larger, but not too large, never when you’re around. 

“come lay with me.” you open your arms to rafe, who moves with ease onto the hammock next to you, the fabric pushing you both close to each other, glad you opted for the larger size so you could sit together. “i love you, baby.” rafe kisses your head, looking around the yard, at the fire, then up at the stars. “i love this life.”

“i love this life too.” you press your hand to your stomach. there’s a surprise you’ve yet to tell rafe. its only a suspicion, partially confirmed by a stick test, but you want the doctors confirmation to be sure before you tell rafe. you look up at him, tilting your head to the side so you can see his face. “you’re happy?” “yes.” he says honestly. “when im with you, i am.” 

“ill always be with you.” you grip rafes hand. you turned down opportunities for trips with your girlfriends. if they didn’t want rafe to come along, it was a no. you can’t blame them, but you refuse to leave him alone after putting the pieces together.

the first arson could have been a coincidence. but the second, on a night you were also away from rafe? you know its him. it’s why you suggested the fire pit in the backyard. why you won’t force him to spend another night without you, alone and anxious, having to face the demons of his past, his childhood. you know he’s not a bad man, not at heart, not deep inside. 

you turn to rafe, tears brimming in your eyes, overwhelmed with your feelings for him. “i love you so much.”

“baby.” rafe coos, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. your hands run all over each others bodies, the moon and fire illuminating you as you work bits of clothes off, just enough for you to sink down onto rafes cock, more grinding together than thrusting at risk of spilling out of the hammock.

“god, you feel so good.” rafe groans, hands gripping your waist as he pushes in before making a miniscule movement back.

“filling me up perfectly.” you undulate your hips. sex with rafe is often wild and intense, but moments like this, where you’re just indulging in each others bodies, relaxing and slow, just like the swinging of the hammock.

“yeah, gonna fill you up real good.” rafe smirks, the corner of his lip twerking up.

the words spill out of you. “i think im pregnant.” you immediately want to take them back when rafes eyes widen.

“rafe-” you lean back, a look of regret on your face, but rafe just pulls you back in, slamming his lips against yours, hips moving faster, hand gripping your ass, pulling you against him as he cums, cock swelling inside of you before releasing.

“if you're not pregnant, im gonna make sure you are.” he gasps out, chest rising and falling, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“you’re not worried?” you ask. clearly the couple glasses of wine you had at dinner are giving you a loose tongue. 

“no.” rafe says honestly, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i would be if this was anyone else. you know…” he swallows thickly. “you know how messed up my childhood was. how hard my dad was on me… i feel like this is a chance to heal that, to treat my kid better than i was ever treated. and i want this with you.”

“i want it too.” you coo, kissing him softly.

“oh, and i guess there’s no better time for this.” rafe chuckles, his softening cock still inside of you, fire dying to just embers as he reaches to his shorts, halfway down his thighs and pulled a small black velvet box out of his pocket, flipping it open with one skilled hand, turning the ring to glint in the orange light.

“will you marry me?”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysillycomics @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut

[steddielations]

Steve walks into utter chaos.

He was stopping by just to see Max, but all the increasingly concerning noise coming from the Munson’s trailer drew him over there instead. Worried that all the cursing and clattering would drown out any chance of a knock being heard, Steve lets himself in. 

Eddie doesn’t even notice him come inside, too busy scrambling around the complete wreck of a kitchen.

“Dude, are you cooking or just banging pots and pans together? I thought you were dying in here.”

Eddie squawks and jumps about a foot in the air. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, barely tied down with a bandana. He’s got flour splotches on his face and all over the frilly grandma apron he’s wearing (which Steve is definitely getting a photo of and showing Dustin later) along with a suspiciously sticky goo on his fingers.

“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie groans. 

“I’m not laughing,” Steve laughs, going to join him in the kitchen, “What are you doing, man?” 

“Well, I’m trying to bake Wayne a cake, but at this point, I might as well give him a frosting covered rock for his birthday,” Eddie sighs, frustrated hands scrubbing the flour off his apron, “I don’t know, man, usually I just get him another mug and a pack of smokes, and he’s never asked me for anything, but I’ve put him through hell this year I just wanted— I don’t know like, to do something special but I can’t even—”

“Alright, take it off.”

Steve folds his arms and waits while Eddie just gawks at him for a moment, cheeks reddening under the patches of flour.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Eddie scoffs, starts muttering like he does when he’s nervous and Steve cracks a smile when he realizes why.

“The apron, Eddie,” he gestures, “Hand it over.” 

Another moment of confused staring and Eddie slowly gives it to him.

Steve wastes no time shaking out the flour and tying it around himself. He moves past Eddie, gets right to work clearing the mess and salvaging what ingredients he can.

“You…” Eddie peeks over Steve’s shoulder, “You know how to bake?”

“I can make a cake,” Steve shrugs, “Robin obsesses over shit sometimes, calls them her “little brain worms” or whatever. She couldn’t stop thinking about this cake she swore she had for her 5th birthday but couldn’t remember the flavor. So we made every cake recipe in her mom’s cookbook until we found the right one.”

“So Harrington’s got a secret Betty Crocker power-up, impressive.”

“Nah, just small stuff. I help Claudia with Dustin’s birthday cakes. Little shit is very particular about his red velvet.” 

Eddie snorts and Steve waves him over to start washing the dishes. He does so with a small salute that smears more flour on his forehead. The word cute comes to Steve’s mind but he just rolls his eyes. 

“So you dusted off your oven mitts for little old me, hm? I’m flattered.”

“Only because I like Wayne and I’d prefer if you didn’t give him food poisoning,” Steve teases, dumping out Eddie’s abomination of batter into the trash. Though he softens when he sees the way Eddie winces at it. “And I think it’s nice, you know, you doing this for him. I wanna help.”

Eddie clearly holds back a smile, looking down at the bubbles in the sink, and the cute word comes back to Steve’s mind.

“Okay well, take it easy on me. Not everyone has a bunch of mom friends teaching them to bake.” 

“Oh yeah, then where’d you get this grandma apron? You just had this little number in the closet with your leather and chains?”

“No, it’s Mrs. Bennet’s and she’s not my friend,” Eddie bristles and Steve senses a hell of a backstory there, “I stole it off her clothesline.” 

Steve laughs and makes Eddie tell him the whole story, all the inner workings of Forest Hills feuds. It’s nice, Steve’s been spending more time here since everything, listening to Eddie’s stories and sharing his own. It’s easy to be around Eddie, even though that pesky word won’t get out of Steve’s head.

Once the batter is finished, Steve dips a finger in to test.

“How does it taste?” Eddie asks, “Better than mine I hope.”

Steve hums around his finger, “So good, here taste,” he meant to slide Eddie the bowl, but the wires must’ve gotten crossed somewhere, because now he’s holding out a dollop of cake batter on the tip of his finger to Eddie’s mouth. 

They both look down at it, then at each other again. Steve knows he should apologize, drop his hand and say it was a mistake but there’s something about the way Eddie’s looking at him, the way he subtly licks his lips is almost like— He wants this. 

So Steve lets him have it.

Eddie leans in, keeps his hands at his sides and slowly guides himself down on Steve’s finger. His eyes fall shut as his mouth closes around it, like it’s too much, watching Steve watching him. It’s a lot for Steve too, the wet warmth of Eddie’s mouth, one swirl of his tongue almost makes Steve’s knees buckle. 

Something comes over him, he presses his finger down just slightly, feeling Eddie’s tongue curl around the tip. It elicits a soft noise from Eddie that sends heat thrumming all through Steve. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, brows turned upwards and mouth in a plush little O around Steve’s finger, looking up at him through dark lashes, a dot of flour on his nose. The sight makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat. It’s fucking cute and hot.

Steve has to swallow his own noise when Eddie pulls off. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, a slight grin on his lips, “Really good.” 

Steve’s about to do something crazy, put his finger back in Eddie’s mouth, maybe more than one this time, or just his lips on Eddie's, maybe even slip his tongue inside instead of his fingers, lick all that sweetness away until he just tastes Eddie, something— but a sudden loud knock on the door has him dropping his hand like it’s made of cement.

It’s Max, wanting to know why Steve ditched her for Eddie. She comes inside to ‘help’ which means she leans against the counter, talks about her day, complains, teases Steve and makes fun of Eddie for being demoted to dish duty. 

Steve puts the cake in the oven and focuses on cleaning and composing himself. He can feel Eddie trying to meet his gaze, trying to see if Steve's going to freak out on him after that. Once Steve can look at him without feeling like he’s going to burst into flames, he gives Eddie a small reassuring smile, even throws him a wink when Max isn’t looking. Eddie gives him a smile back.

And later, after Wayne comes home and they sing happy birthday and eat the cake that Steve insists Eddie helped him with— Just the tasting part, Steve says and revels in how Eddie covers a blush with his hair— and after they walk Max home, Steve pulls Eddie behind the trailer and kisses him until he doesn’t taste like cake anymore.

for the prompts "You heard me. Take. It. Off." and "Stop laughing at me" for @highkingpenny and anon, thank you and I hope you enjoy this!!

[brucewaynehater101]

Hello, I am the person from a few days ago that mentioned House MD. .y idea for it is very simple and very funny. Tim ends up in House's hospital with House as his doctor. He was found unconscious on the side of the road with 3 stab wounds, two broken ribs, and a broken leg.

Tim is Knocked Out and in Civilian Clothes with No Wallet. Which means No ID. They call him John Doe for now and move on to stitching him up and doing an xray of his chest so they can fix up his ribs and check for internal bleeding from the stabs. They are having some kind of debate about how the kid has clearly had his ribs shattered many, many times and how they healed when House suddenly stands up and says, "all of you are missing the forest for the tree. Ignore the ribs for a second before the kid dies." He then leaves the room to the confusion of all the assistants. It takes almost ten seconds for one of them to yell, "WHERES HIS SPLEEN"

Within an hour Tim has been put in one if their Anti Germ Bubbles for the Immuno Compromised. Oh the bright side he 100% has a room all to himself! Tim wakes up in the bubble, very confused with House looming over him. Tim is Baffled and says, "who send you? What info are you after?" And House just says, "im your doctor. What's your name so we can stop calling you John Doe The Spleenless Wonder."

Tim and House verbally joust almost constantly for Tim's entire stay and honestly? Most relaxed he's been in *years*. However it takes *days* for them to pry him name out of him and it's not even *from* him. Someone saw his face on a magazine in the grocery store check out and went "that's out John Doe!!" And when Tim tells them that he is Tim Drake he simply says, "I didn't tell you for a very simple reason. If word got out it was The Tim Drake in your hospital, which is outside Gothem, could you imagine the Paparazzi? And what would happen? I can garentee you at least one person would show up trying to kill me. Why do you think I was outside gothem beat up? Assassins, obviously." House's boss is terrified this guy is gunna sue them into the ground for how House has been jabbing at him constantly.

House simply asks why his bones look like Swiss Cheese and Tim simply raises an eyebrow at him and says, "I live in Gothem."

Later on after Tim gets released, he buys the entire hospital, becomes its new boss, goes to House's boss who actually runs the hospital and says, "I do not care about running this hospital. It's all up to you, I want No Power here. I am simply here to triple your budget, no quadruple it. And you remain completely in power on one condition. I want House to be my Primary Doctor. He's fun."

Oh and if you want some Angst, House asking if Tim wants to call someone to pick him up and Tim says, "oh, I have a tracker on me. Someone will show up to check me out once they notice I'm missing." House squinting at him and says, "you've been here two weeks. So I don't believe you." But Tim is telling the truth. His tracker has said he's been at an out of city hospital for weeks and no one really noticed he was even gone.

Fuck yeah. I've seen some clips of House and, despite the large amounts of medical malpractice they should be sued for, Tim would absolutely enjoy House's banter.

Also, I'd so live for House and Tim trying to trick each other. Tim realizes quickly that House doesn't believe a word about what Tim says about how he got his injuries. House keeps trying to pull one over on Tim so that Tim actually receives medical treatment (especially because Tim keeps going back out on field with injuries). It becomes a somewhat friendly game

Fair warning, I'm probably about to butcher House's character. Idk enough about him, but here's what I think. Tim would prefer House as his main doctor for two reasons:

How House cares

House isn't Batman/Bat affiliated

For the first point, House does care but not in the way most others do. I think Tim will eventually start telling House the truth about how he gets his injuries because of how House reacts. House isn't going to be overly sympathetic, pity Tim, or try to mother hen him. Tim will stroll up, say he's been held without food for a week and has 3 broken bones, and House will just banter with Tim.

If Tim's being an idiot (like not resting), House won't try to tell him off. He won't yell or undermine Tim. He'll just point blank tell Tim he deserves whatever injury he got for being an idiot while helping the vigilante treat it.

Tim will never admit to being a cape, but he eventually trusts House enough not to hide it.

Then there's House not being a Bat doctor. Leslie may or may not inform Bruce of any injuries Tim gets that Leslie deems is important for Bruce to know about. Alfred for sure won't hide that shit. Either way, whether founded or not, Tim can't trust those doctors to give away his information "for his own good."

House probably wouldn't go out of his way to inform Bruce (especially if we add on your angst angle).

Probably fucked up House's characterization, but let me know what ya think! Feel free to send another ask or reblog or whatever with changes ya think I need to add

[reccyls]

Victor's Main Route: Chapter 14 + Premium Attire Story

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

The premium story is slightly NSFW (I'd say an M on AO3 as opposed to E, or lime instead of lemon for those that prefer that description)

As I ran without looking where I was going, I tripped over a tree root and fell.

Kate: Ow!

I ended up sliding face first into the mud, and ended up completely covered in dirt. I winced in pain as I pushed myself up, turning my head up to look at the moon. Its faint white glow amplified the chill of night. Drops of rain limited to just my face mixed with the streaks of dirt. It didn’t take me long to realize they were tears.

(I hurt Victor.)

I took out my sadness at being avoided on him. I couldn’t stand how he didn’t want anything in return for everything he had done, and I went a step too far.

(Because of my muddled up feelings, I ended up saying that I wish we had never met.)

I could do nothing except berate my foolishness for saying something so awful.

(I didn’t finish my sentence, but Victor knew what I meant.)

He must have known what I left unsaid. I wanted to know more about him because I liked him. And because I loved him, I wanted him to tell me everything himself. If I had never fallen in love, I wouldn’t have hurt him.

(What am I even doing anymore?)

Ever since I realized my feelings, I’ve done nothing but chase my thoughts around in circles. I wanted Victor to be happy. That’s the only thing that’s been clear since day one. Shaking, I stood up. My skirt was completely ruined, and my knees were skinned.

Kate: …And I call myself an adult.

I snorted as I saw blood run down my knee. Wiping away my tears, I slowly shuffled my way home. But my tears just wouldn’t stop falling until I reached the castle.

-----

Roger: Why didn’t you come to me as soon as you got hurt?

Kate: …Sorry.

The next morning, I was sat in the basement while Roger scolded me.

Roger: Even if you washed it, if bacteria entered through your wound, it could cause infection and irreversible damage.

Kate: You’re right. I’m really sorry.

(The disinfectant really stings, but I’m not in any position to complain right now.)

I sat still as Roger carried out his treatment, my shoulders hunched. After he applied medicine, he wrapped my knees in bandages. And then he crossed his arms and looked down at me.

Roger: Apply this medicine and change the bandages every day. You hear me?

Kate: I understand, I will.

Roger finally seemed satisfied when I nodded in compliance, and he put away the first aid kit.

Roger: So? How’d you get banged up like this in the first place?

Kate: Um, I tripped in the forest…

Roger: You told me that part. I’m asking what caused you to take a fall this big.

He was asking about the root cause of my injuries, but…

Roger: I know you didn’t have any missions yesterday, so why were you out walking in the woods alone at night?

I stayed silent.

(I don’t want to look suspicious, so I know I should answer him… but I don’t want to.)

As I continued to keep my mouth shut, I felt him aggressively ruffle my hair.

Roger: I’m not suspecting you of anything. I’m just asking because there must be a reason. Roger: I’m not gonna force you to answer. But if talking about it will help, I’ll listen. Roger: If anything happened to you, we’re not going to sit back, alright?

Kate: …Yeah. Thanks.

Before I knew it, it was now three weeks since I became Fairytale Keeper. In that time, I felt that the distance between me and Crown had grown smaller.

(My past self would’ve never thought we’d be this close.)

I knew Roger had been genuinely worried about me. All of this only happened because Victor chose to make me Crown’s Fairytale Keeper. As I thought of him, I couldn’t help but recall how pained he looked last night. My heart throbbed.

(...I can’t leave things like this.)

I didn’t even thank him for saving me and just hurt him. If he started avoiding me again, My time at Crown could possibly come to an end without me ever seeing him.

(And if that happens, I’ll never see Victor again for the rest of my life.)

I couldn’t tell him how much I regretted what I said. I wouldn’t be able to tell him my true feelings. I didn’t even want to imagine what it would be like to live the rest of my life like that. Hiding my bandaged knees, I pulled my skirt back into place. And as I was standing up–

Liam: Oh, here you are, Kate!

Kate: Liam, Harrison! What’s the matter?

Roger: Don’t tell me you two are injured too.

Liam: Not today. Hey, Harry–

Harrison: I’m just along for the ride.

Liam used one hand on the railings to vault over the stairs, landing in the basement as Harrison just stared.

Liam: There’s a visiting circus coming to the market today, it looks like there’s going to be a parade too. Liam: This kind of event doesn’t happen everyday, you know! I’m looking for people to go watch it with.

Harrison: He caught me first.

He raised his hand with an annoyed look on his face.  However, Liam seemed to be able to tell that he didn’t really mind, and threw his arm around Harrison’s shoulder.

Liam: What about you two?

Roger: Pass. I’ve got things to do.

Roger refused point-blank as he picked up a test tube and began shaking it.

Roger: You guys should drag that depressed lump over there with you.

Kate: Are you talking about me?

Roger: You see any other depressed lumps here?

He gestured with his chin, wordlessly telling Liam and Harrison to hurry up.

Liam: Do you want to come, Kate?

Like Liam could tell that something was up, his tone of voice softened as he invited me along. I couldn’t refuse.

-----

Kate: Wow!

A performer danced down the street, leading a man riding atop a giant ball. Then there was a juggler, and a man performing magic tricks while walking. The crowd was captivated by the circus troupe’s various acts as they paraded down the street.

Harrison: It’s packed today. Liam, Kate, make sure you don’t get lost.

Liam: Okay~ How are you holding up, Kate?

Kate: I’m fine, still here.

Liam: Let’s go look for a better spot to watch from. Hold onto me to make sure we don’t lose each other.

I grabbed onto Liam’s sleeve and we followed behind Harrison as he snaked through the crowd. Upbeat music filled the air as the circus troupe scattered flower petals into the air. The cheers of the crowd was deafening. As I watched the petals drift in the air, it put my heart at ease. We found a slightly less crowded spot and stopped.

Liam: What a show.

Harrison: If this was the theater it’d be a full house, huh.

One of the petals drifted near my hand, and I reflexively caught it.

Liam: Nice catch! I want to try too.

Harrison merely sighed as Liam leaped into the air while reaching for a petal. However–

Harrison: Your face.

Kate: Huh?

Harrison: It’s looking better than before.

I subconsciously reached for my face. Liam looked back worriedly at me.

Kate: I feel better thanks to you two. Thank you both.

At my words, Liam beamed.

Harrison: It was that geezer’s fault, wasn’t it?

Who knows, it could have been your fault, Harrison.

How did you know? (+4/+4)

…I thought I was hiding that…

Kate: How did you know?

Harrison: Whenever you have a lot on your mind or something’s bothering you, it’s almost always related to Victor.

Liam: You never noticed? Liam: We don’t know exactly what happened, but if there’s anything bothering you, you can always talk to us. Liam: You can rely on us when you’re feeling down.

Liam’s words reminded me of Roger’s earlier.

Roger: I’m not gonna force you to answer. But if talking about it will help, I’ll listen. Roger: If anything happened to you, we’re not going to sit back, alright?

Kate: Roger said something like that just now.

The two of them exchanged a look.

Liam: A lot of things have happened ever since you joined, but you’re one of us, Kate. Liam: So whenever you’re in trouble, we want to help you. And if there’s something bothering you, you can talk to us anytime. Liam: Isn’t that right, Harry?

Harrison: Well, I guess we are getting used to having you around. Harrison: Like Liam said, even though they might not say it to your face, everyone’s been worried about you. Harrison: I believe it’s because you take your job as Fairytale Keeper seriously. Harrison: Everyone recognizes the hard work you’ve been doing.

Even amidst the music and cheers of the crowd, their words rang loud and clear. I was deeply touched.

(I didn’t even realize when they started acknowledging me.)

William: I extend to you an invitation to tonight’s banquet. Your name, dear guest? That night, I stumbled onto a secret I shouldn’t have known. Victor: From now on, you will be Crown’s “Fairytale Keeper”.

Because of the invitation that William extended on a whim, and because of Victor’s declaration, I couldn’t even sleep that first night out of fear and anxiety, and I worried constantly about whether I’d be killed or not. If I told the Kate from that night how much things would change in just three weeks, and how close I am with Crown now, she’d never believe me. This time it was tears of happiness that filled my vision, and I looked down.

(I’m actually kind of sad that my time with Crown is almost up.)

I was so happy to be acknowledged by Crown that I was now feeling sad that the time I had so dearly wished for at first was approaching.

Harrison: You know, if you wanted to give the old man a slap or two, I’m pretty sure everyone would help.

Kate: No! I don’t want that!

I snapped my head back up at Harrison’s words, only to see their grinning faces.

Harrison: Finally looked up.

Kate: Ah…

Liam: Cute girls shouldn’t keep their faces hidden!

Just like sunlight, their kindness warmed my heart.

Kate: Thank you, both of you.

As I expressed my gratitude, their smiles grew satisfied.

(I should tell Victor how grateful I am to him too. Properly, this time.)

I could picture Victor in his office, smiling warmly as always. He’d smile when thanked, and offer comforting words when I was feeling sad. I’d heard him thank me and apologize to me so many times.

(I absolutely cannot let things stay as they are.)

I put my fist to my chest and resolved to do something about it.

(I’ll find him, and I’ll tell him.)

For some reason, Liam and Harrison seemed surprised when they looked at me.

Kate: ? What’s wrong?

Harrison: Nothing…

They exchanged another glance, this one seemed relieved.

Liam: Nothing at all!

Liam sounded pleased as he shook his head and turned his attention back to the parade. It appeared as though the circus troupe was gathering in the main road, striking one final pose as a group. And then–

In broad daylight, the sound of an explosion ripped through London, loud enough to burst my eardrums.

Kate: What-

The explosion sent the crowd into a panic as everyone scrambled to flee.

Man’s voice: Run!

Woman’s voice: Out of the way, get out of the way!

Lost child’s voice: Papa! Mama! Where are you!

The crowd turned into a stampede of desperate fleeing people, turning the streets into an utter mess.

Caught in the middle of the chaos, I couldn’t move.

Kate: Ah… hah…

My breaths grew shallower and shallower. The panicking crowd seemed to move in slow motion.

Pastor’s Voice: Hurry, run! Crying child’s voice: Mama! Mama!

Kate: …No…

I was frozen in place. The sound of the explosion echoed over and over again in my head.

Kate: Agh!

Panicking Man: Out of the way, don’t just stand there!

I lost my balance as I was shoved aside by the man, and was swallowed by the swarm of people.

Liam: Kate!

I lost sight of Liam’s outstretched hand in the blink of an eye. Tossed around and shoved every which way, I was eventually thrown against a wall. As another explosion rang out, smoke began to rise in the distance. My body slumped against the wall.

Kate: Ah…

(I’m scared.)

The sound of the explosion stirred up the scars left in my memory and I found that I couldn’t breathe.

(Someone…) (Someone, please, anyone…!)

There was only one name that I managed to force out of my lips.

Kate: …Victor…

I squeezed my eyes shut out of fear. And then–

Victor: Kate!

Looking up, I saw Victor, frantically pushing through the crowd and sweat dripping down his forehead as he ran towards me. 

Kate: !

He pulled me close to him and covered my ears. With my cheek pressed to his shirt, I could smell his night-like scent, and feel his warmth. My shivering subsided, just a little.

Victor: You’ll be okay. I’m here.

He moved his fingers just enough to let me hear what he said, and then he covered my ears again.

Kate: I- I’m… okay…

I was okay. I repeated it over and over again as I clung to him. When he noticed, he hugged me even tighter. I don’t know how much time passed like that. Gradually, I stopped hearing voices or other noises, and Victor pulled away just a little.

Victor: Deep breaths now. Slowly, take it slow.

Following Victor’s guidance, I sucked in a shaky breath. After several deep breaths, my breathing began to even out, and Victor put one arm under my knees.

Victor: Keep your eyes closed until I tell you it’s safe to open them, okay?

I nodded weakly, and closed my eyes. I felt myself being lifted into the air. Realizing that I was being carried by his strong arms, I looped my arms around his neck. I could no longer hear any explosions.

Premium Story: The “I Love You” Sealed Away With a Single Kiss

I was gently set down. When I slowly opened my eyes, I could see Victor kneeling in front of me.

Victor: You’re fine now. It’s okay.

He had propped me up against the back wall of the building, which faced out into an alley. I let go of his neck and wrapped my arms around myself.

Kate: …Thank you for saving me.

My fingers were still trembling as I held onto myself and thanked Victor. He let out a small breath. And gently, he covered my hands with his own. His hands were so warm. I could feel myself calming down as he held them.

Kate: Why were you here?

Victor: I was actually doing some reconnaissance with William.

Kate: Reconnaissance?

Victor: We were looking for the source of the explosions.

“Explosions.” A jolt ran through my body at that simple word.  As I took deep breaths, I realized that Victor was rubbing gentle circles into the back of my hands as he continued.

Victor: It’s all speculation at the moment, but we suspect that this was premeditated by an organization.

(That’s…)

The sound of the explosions, the stampede of desperate people, all of it was like a scene out of hell itself.

Victor: I’ve asked the Yard to provide security while we investigated in the background. Victor: However, we weren’t able to obtain much information. Nothing more than rumors, anyway. Victor: To think that this would happen now…

He bit his lip, grief and helplessness evident in his expression, powerful enough to make me feel the same.

Victor: The perpetrators waited until the end of the parade where everyone would be gathered in one location before carrying out their crime. Victor: I will not let this pass.

(Was there anyone caught in the explosions…?)

I realized that the best thing to do right now would be to meet up with William and continue to investigate, However I couldn’t make my legs move.

Victor: It’s alright. William is on his way, so don’t worry.

After a while, I felt calm enough to speak.

Kate: …A few years ago, I was caught in similar explosions when I was at a church.

Victor shifted ever so slightly.

Kate: At that time I was so desperate to escape that I didn’t realize… Kate: Whenever I hear similar sounds, it reminds me of that day.

My laugh must have sounded pitiful.

Kate: But I’m okay now, thanks to you.

The expression on his face as he watched me was achingly sad.

Kate: I’m sorry for the awful things I said to you. I wanted to say thank you for rescuing me from that conversation with Darius.

I finally managed to tell him what I really wanted to say, but he remained silent.

Kate: I didn’t mean that I wish we had never met. Kate: I was just frustrated that I didn’t know so much, and when I finally found out, I didn’t know what to think or what to do. Kate: I was upset that you wouldn’t tell me, and I crossed a line. I’m sorry I hurt you. Kate: I’m really, really sorry.

(But…)

Kate: Meeting you has brought me more happiness than sorrow.

I overstep and hurt him, and get hurt in turn. But I truly didn’t believe that I’d be happier if we had never met in the first place.

Kate: Because I lo–

I was about to confess. And then– I felt something soft press against my lips, and my world was filled with him. He was kissing me.

Kate: Wha-

I didn’t expect his tongue to slip into my mouth. I tried to back away, but his hand against the back of my head prevented me from moving away.

Kate: Nnn…

His tongue slid against my teeth and then tangled with mine. He was kissing me so deeply that I thought I might pass out from lack of air. Everything felt so good that my mind was going blank. Just as I was on the brink of passing out, I felt his hand slip under the hem of my skirt, inching up my thigh.

Kate: Ah-

His finger rubbed against the crotch of my underwear. I was struck by a bolt of pleasure and could feel myself growing wet. My eyes flew open, and his jewel-like eyes were staring right at me. Desire flickered in his gaze as our kiss deepened. My heart squeezed when he narrowed his eyes.

(Does he also…?)

All my pain, all my anguish, I wanted to forget everything as I surrendered myself to this pleasure. I wished that time would stop, so this moment of mutual desire would last forever. Unable to form a coherent thought because of the kiss, I tried to press closer towards him. But his expression grew pained.

Kate: …ah…

And he broke away. I stared at his parted lips, but then his cold gaze pierced straight through me.

Victor: Is that enough?

Kate: What…

His voice was emotionless, sapping me of any lingering warmth.

Victor: There’s one more week until your promise is fulfilled. Victor: Forget everything, and return to your old life.

Kate: But I–

Victor: Kate.

This was a rejection. He was drawing another invisible line between us. “Not another step further.” I couldn’t look into his eyes any more, and bit my lip as I dropped my gazel.

Kate: …You don’t have to accept my feelings.

I’d thought the same ever since I learned of his past.

Kate: I just don’t want you to give up on your life as ‘Victor’. Kate: I know this is an unreasonable request. Kate: But I wish that you can live freely.

Even if we were to be parted, even if I were to be forgotten, Even if we were never to meet again.

Kate: I want you to be happy.

Because I love you. Because I had fallen hopelessly in love. He had so much to bear that adding this wish was an unreasonable burden. I knew that. But I just wanted him to be happy as a person, instead of as a symbol. I will always continue to wish for a future where he can smile with joy. …Even if that future didn’t include me.

Victor: I have already discarded that life. Victor: It has been gone for a long, long time.

Wordlessly, he stood and extended a hand to me. And just as silently, I took it and pulled myself to my feet. As he turned and started walking, I held back my tears and followed him. And although I knew the sensation of his hand in mine was familiar, I felt as though I had also felt something like this, a long, long time ago.

[rylem33]

Future Trophy Wife

Charlie laughed as she pulled the shirt over her head, the soft fabric clinging to her slender frame. “Future Trophy Wife,” it read in bold red letters. She shook her head, amused by her best friend Megan’s sense of humor.

“Really, Meg? This was the best thing you could find at the gift shop?” Charlie asked, playfully rolling her eyes.

Megan grinned, adjusting the straps of her backpack as they made their way back to their cabin. “I just couldn’t resist! Besides, it’s not every day my best friend gets engaged. Consider it a preview of your future, Mrs. Trophy Wife!”

Charlie glanced down at the shirt again, chuckling softly. She was far from the trophy wife type. With her tousled brown hair, minimal makeup, and a preference for hiking boots over heels, Charlie was as grounded as they came. She loved her fiancé, Daniel, not for his money—of which there wasn’t much—but for his kind heart and the way he made her feel like the most important person in the world.

“Well, joke’s on you, Meg. This future trophy wife is going to spend the rest of the retreat in this shirt!” Charlie declared, her smile wide and genuine.

The retreat was their annual tradition, a time to escape the chaos of their lives and reconnect with nature. This year felt particularly special with Charlie’s recent engagement. The two friends set out for their hike, following the winding trails through the dense forest that surrounded the retreat. Normally, Charlie would be in her element, soaking up the tranquility and enjoying the fresh air. But today, something felt off.

After about an hour of walking, Charlie started to lag behind, a frown creasing her usually cheerful face. “Ugh, do we really have to go this far?” she complained, adjusting the shirt that now felt oddly tight across her chest.

Megan looked back, surprised. “Come on, Charlie! This is your favorite part of the retreat. You always love hiking.”

Charlie shrugged, a hint of irritation in her voice. “I don’t know, Meg. I’m just not feeling it today. My feet hurt, and honestly, what’s the point of wandering around in the woods? We’ve seen it all before.”

Megan was taken aback. This wasn’t like Charlie at all. She was the one who usually dragged Megan out for hikes, excited to explore every nook and cranny of the forest.

When they finally returned to their cabin, Charlie was exhausted, but not in the usual, satisfied way. Instead, she seemed restless, almost irritable. She felt an odd tingle run down her spine as she slipped the “Future Trophy Wife” shirt back on after her shower.  

“I’m going to bed early,” she announced, exiting the bathroom.

“Everything okay?” Megan called from the other room.

“Yeah, just… feeling a little weird,” Charlie replied.

The next morning, Megan was the first to wake up. She stretched and yawned, then glanced over at Charlie’s bed. What she saw made her gasp.

Charlie was still asleep, but she looked… different. Her once brown, tousled hair was now a silky, platinum blonde, cascading over her shoulders. Her skin was perfectly bronzed, as if she had spent weeks under the sun. And her body—Charlie had always been in good shape, but now her figure was nothing short of extraordinary, with curves that strained against the tight white crop top that now read “TROPHY WIFE TRAINING CAMP.”

“Charlie!” Megan shook her friend awake, her voice edged with panic.

Charlie groggily opened her eyes, blinking in confusion. “What’s going on?” she mumbled, her voice still soft and familiar.

Megan stepped back, her heart pounding. “Charlie, look at yourself!”

Charlie sat up, her movements slow and deliberate. She glanced down at her body, her eyes widening as she took in the drastic changes. “What the hell…?” she whispered, running her hands over her now toned abdomen and perfectly smooth skin.

Megan was at a loss for words. “How… how did this happen? You look completely different!”

Charlie looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes flickering with a mix of shock and curiosity. “I don’t know, Meg. I went to bed last night feeling weird, and now… this.”

She was less shocked than Megan expected, almost as if a part of her wasn’t entirely unhappy with the change. “Maybe it’s just some weird reaction to the environment or something. I mean, it’s still me, right?” she said, trying to reassure both herself and Megan.

Megan wasn’t convinced, but there was nothing they could do except try to go about their day. “Let’s just take it easy today,” Megan suggested. “Maybe things will go back to normal.”

But as the day wore on, it became clear that things weren’t going back to normal. Charlie’s behavior grew increasingly different. She spent more time in front of the mirror, touching up her makeup, adjusting her clothes, and fussing over her hair. She started complaining more—about the food, the rustic accommodations, and even the weather.

By midday, it was as if a switch had flipped. Charlie’s easygoing nature was all but gone, replaced by a sharper, more demanding persona. “Honestly, Megan, why did we come to this dump? We could have gone somewhere nicer—like a resort, with real amenities,” she snapped as they walked to lunch.

Megan tried to stay calm, but her worry was growing. “Charlie, don’t you think this is all a bit… strange? You’ve changed so much, and not just physically.”

Charlie—or Charlize, as she now insisted on being called—rolled her eyes, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Maybe it’s time I did change. I’ve spent my whole life settling, but now I see that I deserve better. And Daniel? Please, he’s sweet, but he’s not exactly going to give me the life I want.”

Megan was horrified. “The life you want? Charlize, you were happy with Daniel! You loved him for who he was, not for what he could give you.”

But Charlize just shrugged, her expression cold. “That was the old me. I’m not Charlie anymore, Megan. I’ve moved on, and it’s about time you did too.”

By the end of the day, it was clear that the transformation was complete. Charlize packed her bags with precision, her movements fluid and confident. “I’m leaving,” she declared, tossing her designer bag over her shoulder. “This place, and everything in it, is beneath me now. Including you, if you can’t keep up.”

Megan watched, helpless, as her best friend walked out of the cabin, her heels clicking on the wooden floor as she left behind the person she used to be.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Months passed, and Megan hadn’t heard a word from Charlize. She tried reaching out, but every call, every message went unanswered. It wasn’t until she found a thick envelope in her mailbox that she got any news at all.

Inside was an invitation, embossed in gold, for the wedding of Charlize Montgomery to Charles Denning, a wealthy oil baron with deep pockets and a notorious love for beautiful, young wives.

As Megan unfolded the invitation, a glossy photo slipped out and fluttered to the floor. She picked it up, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at the image. “Oh my God” Megan whispered, unable to believe what she was seeing.

The Charlie she once knew was gone, replaced by someone who valued wealth and status over everything else.  Megan just shook her head, remembering the friend she once had.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

Hello! Could you possibly write this prompt >“to me, you are perfect.”< for Joel Miller? I was thinking like, it's a established relationship, and Joel's self-esteem is kinda shit because he's noticed a few greys in his hair and he's gotten a pudgy belly after settling in Jackson and he's just very very insecure :( and we're taking care of our man and reassuring him he's perfect and that we ain't leaving his cute little ass anytime soon :). But hey, feel free to ignore everything I just said and just use the prompt lol

Ohh, how could I say no to such a nice request. I hope I will meet your expectations. Thank you, sweetie. ❤️ i'm sorry for all mistakes

warnings : fluff, but with a little bit of smut at the end (+18), one grumpy guy with a lot of insecurities, a few curse words, Ellie mentioned

prompts list here

It started slowly. As it always does. 

Joel became more moody and grumpy. When Ellie said, with a laugh, that the button on his shirt didn't fall off from age, but that his belly had grown, Joel gave you both a gloomy look and left the house.

Then, through the half-open bathroom door, you saw him looking at his hair in the mirror. Okay, he already had some gray hairs, but he also had the impression that there had been more of them lately.

His knees and back were giving him hell sometimes, but he had been complaining about that for years. At least there was one constant here.

Although life in Jackson was much safer than outside of it, Joel had the impression that he was starting to age much faster here. So he was just waiting for you to notice it too, to point out his gray hair, his belly, or whatever. If Ellie noticed it, then you had to pay attention to it too.

"Can we stop for a moment? I'm starving."

Joel turned around and looked at you. He liked going on patrols with you. He preferred it over you doing it with someone else. It reminded him a bit of the not-so-long-ago times when you traveled together, with Ellie too of course.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." he mumbled looking around the forest. "Do you have coffee?"

You handed him a thermos and pulled out sandwiches. It was a nice day, and you still had a few hours ahead of you.

"So are you going to tell me what's bothering you so much?" you asked, handing him one of the sandwiches.

"Nothing." he grumbled.

"Oh, right. I've noticed you've become different, even in bed, so you better tell me." You bit into the sandwich and fixed your gaze on Joel.

He didn't seem eager to talk, but at the same time you knew he had to get it all off his chest eventually.

"Don't you miss it when we hiked together?" he asked, taking a bite of the sandwich and chewing it.

"You call our attempt to get to Jackson a hike?" you giggled. "No, not really. What about you?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you miss the lack of warm showers, night guards, the lack of such tasty sandwiches as we have now?"

"That's not what I mean." he grimaced. "I'm talking about something else. We were alone, but together. We were different. In Jackson, we get...lazy."

You analyzed his words for a moment. You had guessed what was bothering him for some time, but you didn't want to confront him with it yet. Joel needed time.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm losing my form." you finally spoke, he raised his eyes to you with hope. "Since I've been getting enough sleep and eating full meals, I guess I've become less attentive.”

"See! That's what I'm talking about."

"Ellie's gained weight, thankfully, since we've been in Jackson. She's still growing, so she needs it."

"Teenagers are always fucking hungry." Joel shook his head in disbelief.

"Mhm..." you took a sip of your coffee. "Lately I feel like there's a lot more young people in Jackson, don't you think?"

Miller nodded, sitting on a fallen tree trunk, clearly lost in thought. "Sometimes I feel like a senior at a sports camp. Not that I can't keep up with them, but..."

"Your knees won't let you forget that." he nodded. "And your back." Joel grimaced and tucked his sandwich away. "You wish you were twenty years younger again, huh?"

He cleared his throat and looked at you uncertainly. "Is that bad?"

You shook your head and tucked your sandwich away too. "I don't think it's a bad thing. Sometimes I envy those young girls too, but..."

"But what?" he frowned, looking at you with concern.

"But the hottest guy in Jackson is still sleeping in my bed." You winked at him, smiling.

Joel rolled his eyes and sighed, "Bullshit! I've seen those younger guys looking at you. If only you wanted to..."

"You think I do?"

You looked at each other in silence.

"None of them are you, Joel." You finally spoke, dark eyes looking at you with hope, "None of them saw me like you do. None of them drive me crazy like you do sometimes."

You stood up from your seat and walked over to him. You spread his knees even more with your legs, standing between them. A soft hand slid into his hair, then went down his cheek. His stubble gently tickled your skin.

"None of them know how to make me moan, and you know so many ways..." you saw him swallow hard, clearly focused on your every word. "None of them have ever had me like you do."

"They could definitely last longer." Joel replied. His low, dark voice hit your most sensitive spots.

A groan of impatience escaped your throat. "I don't fucking care. I'm not trading the best ass in Jackson for some horny brat."

"You make me horny all the time."

"Good." A sly smile appeared on your lips and you suddenly knelt down in front of him. "So let me show you how much I like you, Joel. Because to me, you are perfect." your fingers hungrily began to unbuckle the belt of his jeans. "I love every inch of your body. I love how safe and loved I feel around you. I love how your arms hold me tight. I love... Oh, hello there."

He saw the glint in your eyes as his hard manhood peeked out of his jeans. Joel breathed deeply, dark eyes turning almost black. How on earth did a woman like you find him in this world and want to be with him? He didn't know the answer, but he knew that this was the best thing that had ever happened to him. A quiet sigh escaped his chest as you touched him.

"Let me show you how much I like you, Joel." He closed his eyes.

He let you worship his body, promising himself that as soon as you returned to Jackson, he would do the same for you. He would walk around the city with pride, knowing that you had chosen him. That you loved him no matter what.

"Holy shit!" he groaned as he felt your lips wrap around his cock.

This patrol will probably take you a little longer.

[talon-dragonbeast]

niche kin appreciation 3: share 5 fun facts about your kin

hell yeah i love fun facts! here are five enderman things that are not canon in the game but are in my memories:

enderpearls are what make endermen able to teleport! in reality, they are not pearls, but a very specialized organ inside the body that uses nutrients only found in chorus fruit to gather teleportation magic. the more chorus fruit an enderman eats, the more powerful its enderpearl will be.

did you know that endermen are able to teleport between dimensions? thats why we can be found in all three of them! we have to wait until our enderpearl is strong enough though, so if an enderling doesnt eat enough chorus fruit, its enderpearl will atrophy causing long-term health issues and making it unable to teleport properly.

even though we are nomadic, its not that common for us to want to leave our dimensions of origin, instead we prefer to wander the biomes of our home. there are endermen who choose the erratic lifestyle though, and they are called Wanderers. most of the enderfolk found in the Overworld are actually Wanderers.

enderfolk from different dimensions have COMPLETELY different cultures. the End people (also called Enderians) are the most "organized" society, as the majority of endermen are born and raised in this dimension. they are structured in familial units, called hauntings, formed by the adults (usually 3-5) and a couple of enderlings and tweens. there is more sense of community there than in other dimensions, unlike in my place of origin, the Nether. Warped Forest enderfolk like myself are less structured, and raise our young communally until theyre strong enough to be on their own. once their enderpearl is fully developed, some enderlings choose to travel to the End, either to settle in or simply to visit, while others opt to stay in the Nether. a few of them will become Wanderers, and are never seen again.

the reason why you shouldnt look an enderman in the eyes is because it is painful for us. we are a slightly telepathic species (we cant full-on read others thoughts, but we can perceive their "vibe", more or less). when an enderman looks at other endermans eyes, it forms a connection between them. this is very vulnerable for both parts, so its only done between haunting members and considered incredibly taboo outside of them. when a human makes eye contact with an enderman, it forces the connection to form, which causes a lot of pain and anger due to the violated taboo.

original

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 5

Hello! I'm really love the response to this story. Thank you everyone who commented or tagged.

In this part we get to meet Ellie their costume designer, and Steve proves why he's there.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

~

Steve was doing his warm ups when Chrissy came up to him.

“Hey,” she said. “We finally got our costume designer in at the same time as you. So you need to go to the dressing room and get measured.”

He nodded and went back to the dressing room. It was a long room packed with vanities, costumes, and props. It was where everyone got dressed. Man and woman alike. Eddie’s club was making good money, but it was just easier to just have everyone in the same room. Plus, it wasn’t like everyone hadn’t seen everyone else’s bits. After all, nakedness was part of the job.

The only one who had his own dressing room was Eddie. And that was because it doubled as his office. It had all his costumes, his guitars, but also his desk and filing cabinets. It had a long green, leather sofa two big fluffy armchairs across from his desk chair.

Standing at the end of the of the room in front of the rows and rows of clothing racks where all the costumes were kept was a woman in her early twenties with curly, brown hair and slim figure. Her back was to him so he couldn’t see her face. But he liked her style. It was funky and eclectic and Steve instantly loved it.

“Hey,” he called out gently. “I’m here to measured and hopefully not be found wanting.”

She turned around with a giggle. “And would you be William or Count Adhemar in this situation?”

Steve laughed. “My hope is to always be the hero, especially in my own story. And do I call you Kate or something else?”

“Ellie will do just fine,” she said with a smile. “So you’re the new Envy. You aren’t what I was expecting, if I’m honest.”

“No?” he said as he finished walking the rest of the way to her. “I’m not sure what you were told about me, so...”

Again Ellie giggled. “Well judging from the way Eddie and Chrissy talk about you I was expecting someone taller at the very least. You are conventionally attractive, but I guess I was thinking more Chris Hemsworth then Chris Pine, if I’m honest.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” he said. “Personally I prefer Pine over all the other Chrises. He’s got a ‘fuck you I do what I want’ style I like.”

“Me too,” she said with a soft knowing smile. “So let’s get those measurements and then afterwards we can talk about what you want out of your costumes. I understand you and Chrissy are going to be Hansel and Gretel for the Fairy Tale Night, is that right?”

Steve nodded. “I think that Eddie just wants to see me in lederhosen.” He paused for a second. “My best friend, Robin, too, now that I think about it.”

She laughed out loud for the first time and Steve decided she should laugh more. It was cute. “Well, aren’t they going to be disappointed. It’s meant to be sexy, not ridiculous.”

He smiled back at her. Yeah, they were going to along just fine. Ellie went through measuring him, quickly and efficiently. Steve was impressed by her professionalism and she was impressed by his ability to take direction and to hold still when told.

Once they were done Ellie sat him down and she pulled out a sketch book. She showed him the designs for the Hansel outfit. It had a lot of layers so that as they went through the forest more clothes would come off. Lamia would be the witch and Eddie’s Lucifer would rescue them. It was all very hot and Steve couldn’t wait to preform it.

“I love it,” he told Ellie. “Can we make the costumes brown on the outside and get lighter and lighter until the bottom layer is white?”

Ellie tapped her pencil to her lips. “What if we started off with black and worked our way through grey to white?”

Steve resisted the urge to sigh. It was Eddie wish to be everything black or red for their costumes and it looked the costume designer felt the same. “How about red?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. “That could work!” And she pulled out her colored pencils and got to work coloring the different layers. Once she was done, she looked up at him and he grinned back.

“Perfect,” he said. “Now let me tell you what I’m going to need from my costume and you can help me figure out what it should look like.”

She nodded and listened to his wants and needs, jotting down notes and sketching out ideas as he talked.

“I might not take it all off every time,” Steve admitted, scratching his cheek nervously. “But I want the option there if at all possible.”

Ellie did a couple more sketches and showed them to him. He took the sketch book from her as he examined the different designs. He pointed to the one on the left. “Add some of the flare from the second one and I think you’ve got it.”

She added the flourishes from the one costume to the other and then showed Steve. He nodded.

“All right,” she said standing up, “I’ll be by in a couple of weeks with your costume for a fitting and see if there’s any tweaks to finalize. I’ve also taken your current costume and will have it sent over on Sunday so that you are able to dance easier.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “That would be fantastic. I’ll be glad to be able to do my job without sacrificing a gallon of blood every night.”

Steve walked her out and said goodbye. Then he got back to warm ups and practice. He was about done with his first solo routine when one of the dancers came up to him.

“Why are you so special that Ellie came to you?” the young man bit out. “Everyone else had to go to her shop to get measured.”

Steve looked up at him with a frown. “You’re Leviathan, right?” The guy nodded. “I’m busy during the day and on my nights off. And when I was free, she was busy. She offered to come to me during practice, man, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“Why you’re getting such preferential treatment?” Levi huffed. “Boss wouldn’t let us backup dancers even try out for Envy even though we should have been given the chance first. We’ve been here longer and deserve a crack at making real money. But no... you come in here with your stupid little heaven song and your stupid little angel dances and now you’re getting Ellie to come to you? It’s bullshit!”

Steve just put his hands up in the air. “You’re acting like I’m some evil mastermind designed to fuck up your life, but the truth is it sounds life your beef is with Eddie not me. I’m not the one who set up tryouts. I’m not the one that called Ellie to come get my measurements. I’m not the one that suggested the angel theme, all I did was pick a song that would get me noticed. Eddie is the one who did all those things. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to warm up.”

Levi snarled and turned on his heel, stomping away. Or as much stomping as one could when you’d spent your life learning to land as softly as possible.

Steve rolled his shoulders. He was used to people blaming him because he was rich and popular and good looking and could fucking dance. They couldn’t get over the fact that he had these natural talents; things he was born with that he didn’t chose. But it was always his fault anyway.

Chrissy came back from wherever she had gone during his session with Ellie, with a big smile. “You ready to back into this?” she asked cheerfully.

“Ready when you are!”

~

To say Eddie was pissed would be an understatement. He had just gotten off the phone with some Bible thumping street preacher demanding that they shutter their doors and repent to come to God.

When Eddie told him that he didn’t believe in God and even if he had, he’d rather go to Hell, the preacher started screaming obscenities about how he was going to expose the club for what it was, a den of iniquity and was going to get it closed down.

Then Stella came in and was up his ass about the angel dances again. He told her that when she brought in as much money as Steve and Chrissy did during those dances then he would listen to her.

“Mark my words, Eddie,” Stella hissed. “He’s going to be the ruin of the club and when it all comes crashing down, I’m going to still be here so I can tell you to your face, ‘I told you so’.”

Then she stormed out. Eddie followed her because he honestly thought she would start going on a rampage in the dressing room, tearing shit up.

Which meant he got a front row seat to Levi trying bully Steve. Not that it worked, Steve returned better than he got, but it was the fact that one of his people had tried. It wasn’t the first time Eddie heard the rumblings from the backup dancers about not getting a chance to audition for Envy and it probably wouldn’t the last. But he wasn’t going to let someone bully someone he had handpicked.

He walked up to the stage whistled long and loud. Steve was the last to stop and look at him, finishing the turn he was doing. He blushed when he realized everyone was waiting for him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie said. “I get wanting to complete a spin instead of abruptly stopping and risking a fall.”

Steve nodded, still feeling the heat of embarrassment on the back of his neck after the sting of Levi’s words still rang in his head.

“I’ve been getting and hearing a lot of complaints about how I run things lately,” Eddie began.

The assembled dancers began to shift uncomfortably. “Especially from the backup dancers about the auditions to replace Envy. You all think you’re better than Stevie here,” he continued. “So put your money where your mouth is. All eight of you will dance Billy’s version of the tease. And you don’t want to, you know where the fucking door is. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”

There was a gasp and then deadly silence. “If any of you are as good as he is, I’ll concede the point and we’ll discuss the details after. But here’s the thing, my little demons. You aren’t as good as he is. He learned his dance in three days.”

There were some sharp grumbling at that but a single glare from Eddie silenced them again.

“Jeff, Brian, and Gareth will be the judges because clearly you don’t trust me and Chrissy’s judgment. They will score you on hitting all the moves. On style. And finally on how sexy it was. Then after you’ve all danced and I’m proven right, you’ll have two options,” he bit out, holding up two fingers. “Shut up and dance. Or get the fuck out of my club. Because I think you assholes forgot who’s name is on the deed. Not you. Not Wayne. Not anyone but me.���

The rest of the demons glared at the two main culprits: Levi and Danny. Levi sneered and Danny was nonplussed.

“Come on, Leviathan,” Eddie snarled back. “You think you’re such a big shot. Go on, prove it.”

Levi got into position to dance.

Chrissy hurried over to the music and turned on “Devil Inside”. Steve didn’t want to toot his own horn, but he could see why Billy was only as good as the pole he was dancing on. It was loud and outrageous but no technique or style. It was all sex and no substance.

When he was done Eddie called out all the other dancers. Choronzon, Belial, Beelzebub, Astraroth, Stolas, Mephistopheles, and then finally Dagon. Danny was a good dancer, particularly on the pole. But again, there was no style or substance to the tease.

When her dance ended, Steve raised his hand. “Can I try?”

All heads snapped his direction.

“What now?” Cheryl asked. “You dance it every Sunday.”

Steve shook his head. “What you guys just danced is not what I do on Sundays. Chrissy modified it on the fly because I’m not built the way Billy was.”

There was some murmuring but Chrissy confirmed he doesn’t do Billy’s dance. Parts of it, yes. But there was no way Steve could dance it well enough in time.

“But you just watched it,” Stella said. “There is no way you can do replicate that!”

Steve shrugged. “I watched it eight times. It has a lot of beats of what I do, but in a slightly different order. I should get a chance to do it. It’s my reputation on the line, isn’t it?”

No one could refute that so Steve got into position and everyone’s jaw dropped. Including Eddie and Chrissy. Steve started his dance on stool but Billy started front and center. And that’s where he stood.

Scott smirked as the music started. It was Chrissy and him who helped Steve nail it down in three days.

The difference was staggering. Eddie’s jaw remained on the floor for the duration of of the tease. As did almost everyone else’s. Only Stella and Scott were unmoved. Scott because he knew how good Steve was and Stella because she was being forced to eat crow.

The song ended and the room erupted in cheers and whistles. Steve lifted his head and winked.

Jeff threw his notes in the air behind him. “I don’t fucking need these. Steve’s was sexier, smoother, and nearly technically perfect.”

Gareth crossed his arms over his chest. “I agree. All of the backup dancers did the routine. But none of them were Envy.”

“I’m asexual and even I could tell Steve’s was sexier,” Brian said. “And it’s because he connected to his audience. Me, Gare, and Jeff. He played to us not at us.”

Eddie raised his arm to the stage. “Satan everyone!” He jutted his thumb behind him. “Take it or leave it!”

No one moved an inch. “Then shut up and dance!” He turned on his heel and stormed back to his office.

Chrissy clapped her hands. “All righty! Everyone back on the starting line!”

Everyone scrambled to get back into position. Chrissy and Scott shared a smirk as Levi and Danny stood a little straighter.

Point well and truly made.

~

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

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[coffee-master]

[IDEA TO USE: TRANS STANLEY PINES]

[Lee Pines]

I wish there was a fanfic about trans Stanley Pines, who realised he was trans AFTER he was kicked out of the house.

Honestly I belive that during his childhood and teenage years there would be visible sights, but Stand ignored it due to the many circumstances.

I also think that his realtionship with his father would be maybe ever worse? I belive that Filbrick would often complain that his "daughter" was making more mess than his other sons, or complain for not being "a typical girl" or "girly" or other stuff.

Anyway-

After being kicked out I think that due to the new enviroment and other people (good and bad) Stan would probably run into some queer group in one of the bars. Maybe he would try to scam them or steal.. But somehow he would end up with a conversation AND REALISATION.

Egg cracking.

Later Stan would realise that he's a guy and do something about it. (In illegal way due to the situation)

He would do some dirty job to get some shots of testosterone. And it would start working.

He made a call to one of his old pals (on crime) to get a top surgery. The operation was of course a big risk (like 70% you survive, 20% you will die of blood loose on the table and 10% you die due to the infection if the surgery went bad)

I think the transition would have a positive impact on his mental health (like:; "Yeah Testosterone won't solve my money or family problems BUT LOOK WHO CAN GO SHIRTLESS!!)

A little steps would make him smile.

(TW: Another small detail is that during his living on the streets before transition Stan would probably also experience some sexuall harrasment) [I'd have a big impact on him]

Another think is that the transition would help him with his crime record. Slowly [DEADNAME] Pines wanishes away and nobody knows where or how and nobody can susspect him anymore.

From now on He would call himself Lee Pines. (simply)

[Let's be honest. I don't think Lee change his name to Stanley.. it's just like Stanford.. But that's only my opinion]

But Lee Pines would get himself more criminal record and in the end still use new fake IDs and ect.

NOW.

Let's get to the part where Lee gets a postcard from Stanford.

NOW THIS IS WHERE THE REAL FUN BEGIN! Because he doesn't know about this whole stiation.

Stanford is waiting impatiently for his twin sister to show up in his Shack, but when he opens the door, he sees this MESSY HOMELESS GUY (suspicionsly similar to him)

"WHO ARE YOU?! DID YOU COME HERE TO STEAL MY EYES!?" - Stanford is ready to shoot.

Lee is clearly confused. He expected that his twin wouldn be shocked to a man at his doorsteps. But he didn't expect it would go like this-

"Geez, you sure now how to-" Before he could even finish his sentence Ford rapidly moved his crossbow even closer to his face.

"Who are you!?" Stanford yelled insantly.

"Woah Woah- Chill out pointexter-" The messy twin slowly raised his hands up.

"Talk. Now." Ford threatened.

"I'm your brother you dumbass-!" Lee yelled flustration and anger, not paying attention to his words at all.

Instead of being angry Ford only laughed manically at the answer. Shermie was far away with his own family. Moreover adding the fact that he didn't keep in touch with him in a long time. The answer was just hilarious!

"Wrong answer, try again." Ford smirked thinking this must be some trick of imagination or another shape-shifting creature from this forest.

Meanwhile Lee was terrified seeing his brother in this state of mind. Just what exacly happened to him?

But before he could even question this whole Madness, he heard counting.

"Five.." It was Ford. "Four.." And he was counting down.

He was counting down-

Who could have even guessed that reunion with his brother could cost him his head? Nevertheless Lee prefered to stay in one piece.

So he spoke.

All that he know.

"In the middle school I used to take your box class, since you hated it so much and once Pa' found out, he was pretty pissed at both of us!" Immiediately he saw how Ford was taken aback.

It was a good sigh.

So he kept going.

"During summer we'd go on the beach and pretend to be treasure hunters! One time we wanted to make a fireplace next to the boat? I used my dresses as a firelighter and later I was 'forced' to wear your nerdy clothes as a punishment! We had a pet! Shanklin the Stab Possum! World's greatest pet!" He talked and talked until there was no oxygen for him to breath.

But he did it.

Ford blinked dumbfoundly instantly taking a step back from him. Lee didn't hesitate and used this opportunity once again.

"You told me to come here! You send me a post card!" He slowly reached to his pocked, taking out the pice of paper and rapidly waved it in his face.

"What.." Confused twin lowered his weapon down at the sight of the evidence.

"A lot has changed during those ten years brainiac." Finally the other twin said a little coldly, after seeing Ford putting weapoon away. "I go by Lee now." He added simply.

For a moment Stanford didn't say a thing, as if he've just got a brain damage.

"You know what? This isn't the weirdest thing I've seen. Get inside!" Stanford didn't have the time to question, especially when outside, everyone could see them.

Instead he dragged "Lee" into his house.

You can guess what happened next.

And, If someone would be interested in writing a fic about this or something similar then go ahead! DO IT! This is free to use!!!

Please!

Just tag me, becuase I'd like to read it too...👉👈

[MasterPost]

[stubz]

Darn spider monkey

"Tag! Your it!"

"...can we play something else?" huffs Tuk, her tail swishing back and forth in boredom.

"You don't like tag?" asks Marl scurrying back to their large blue friend.

"I do but we always play it! How about a new game?" The na'vi smiles as she sets her little friend on her shoulder.

"Hmmm...I can't think of anything."

"...neither can I."

"Put your foot in for grounders!" shouts one of their teachers in a nearby clearing.

"...grounders?"

"Grounders."

.

"So for those who don't know what grounders is, like Tuk and Marl, it's basically tag but the person who is it closes their eyes when on the...well not on the ground since we don't have a playground here." Explains Max.

"If the person who is it isn't on the ground and shouts grounders then whoever is on the ground is it. Now, if you're climbing high you can keep your eyes open until in a safe spot. But if your peeking to cheat then you have to go back onto the ground, that's called broken dishes."

"Why is called broken dishes?"

"...I have no idea. Anywho! If your tagged but really don't wanna be it then me or Kim will be it instead. Right Kim?"

"I prefer to be the hunter rather then the hunted."

"Got it? Okay! Game starts in 5...4..."

The younglings scattered. Some went straight for higher ground so as to have the advantage of sight while others focused on putting as much distance between them and the human male. Tuk and Marl obviously went for the high ground.

Being as it they were on her home planet, Tuk had a clear advantage in growing up in these very forests, she knew all the best ways to climb and scale these massive trees. Marl while being very small was still a ursa, creatures that typically spend the first 3 years of their life in the treetops. The two friends easily made it up 15 feet of the ground in two bounding leaps.

"This'll be so easy."

"Right? We just have to stay up here and we'll never be caught!"

..

"...this is kinda boring now." huffs Tuk. For 10 minutes they've stayed in the same spot watching their teachers chase the other younglings.

they haven't been ignored but were too far off the ground to be reached. The trunk was too smooth and the branches were too high for the humans. After multiple attempts by Max he gave up and focused on the other younglings.

"I find it entertaining! Go Pollix! GO! He's right behind you!" Marl cheered as the tighalax weaved through trees trying to lose the human. With a burst of speed he dropped down onto all fours and ran under a tunnel of roots.

"Yeah! Too bad mister Max!" the human ran even faster but this time to the right, away from the root tunnel. Tuk raised her brow as she watched him run up to a nearby tree and quickly begin climbing up.

"...Pollix get out of there! He's gonna-!"

"GROUNDERS! Got ya Pollix!"

"Darn it!" growled the cub from tunnel.

"Okay I guess it is entertaining." Tuk smiled.

...

By the 20 minute mark more than half the younglings were tired and sitting in the shade with Max. Tuk and Marl still in their spot. Kim and a few others on the ground running around.

"...wanna change spots?"

"Sure, how about that sunny spot over there?"

"Looks good."

"...wait. They're planning something."

"Who?"

"Kim and Piper." Marl pointed and true enough the adult was whispering something to the child while occasionally glancing towards them...while leaving just the smallest bit of space between them. When the girl smiled and nodded Kim grinned as well and together sprinted towards the tree they were on.

But rather than try and climb it as they had thought they would do, Kim turned and squatted against the tree.

Knee, shoulder, then waiting for Kim to stand, and finally using the adults palms as the final step Piper jumped and grabbed the lowest vine.

Piper was now it.

Piper was now scaling the tree like a prolemuris. The human youngling turned and swung her body in ways that the older humans couldn't and thus helped her go higher and higher.

"...We should start climbing."

"Way ahead of you!"

....

Together the humans managed to tag Tuk as she was a larger target than Marl.

With Kim's help Piper could reach the lowest vine or branch and from there she was set. granted she was not as fast as them but she had knocked down vines for others to climb so as to tag Tuk and Marl, the only two haven't been it yet!

A tragedy that must be corrected!!

The trees were no longer safe for the na'vi or ursa nor were the ground as that was the adult's domain.

While Tuk was bigger than the adult and therefore could outpace her she hadn't realized how committed human adults are to games. Even if it was children's game.

Deliberately Kim would go after Marl, the slower of the two, and make a show of almost catching them. Tuk, not wanting her friend to be it would always try to reach Marl first and carry them away. An abrupt stop would be Tuk's only warning before the human turned towards her and lunged.

If that didn't work then she would use the smallest youngling's affections to her advantage. Thrice she had ordered Anwred and Tarlak to hug her legs thus slowing her down.

"...I'm done..."

"Me too..."

"You guys did good, miss Kim hardly ever uses Piper in grounders." smiles Pollix.

"How does she do that? I mean, Spider, my human friend, can do that too but he grew up doing that. So how does Piper do it?"

"Apparently she has other teachers that taught her how to that and is just one of those humans whose better at climbing than others."

"Yeah! She used to climb miss Kim and mister Max all the time! Right onto their shoulders!" chirped Xw.

"She's a little spider monkey alright." said Kim walking over with said spider monkey clinging onto her back smiling rather proudly.

"...darn spider monkey." muttered Marl while Tuk laughed.