#you can't have a silver lining if everything is bright

[6bluebells]

Desperately wanting the Big Three to be a happy & healthy set of three sarcastic & annoying brothers but even my hcs know it can never be true 😭😭😭😭

Like. Hades & Zeus were best friends during the war. Hades was Zeus’s solace as he dealt with various political & social affairs that have to do with being The Leader and Prophecy Child while Zeus was Hades’s solace as being the only one who would Sit Down And Work With Him bc most of the others just dismissed him bc he was in the background a lot or were scared of him bc he has a Resting Bitch/Protective Face. Hades going through the war and ending it thinking that this friendship and partnership would extend to Zeus’s Reign and they would be near-equals or at least Hades would be a good counsel but next think he [Hades] knows, Poseidon, their anger-filled and not-quite-all-there brother, is laughing directly at Zeus’s side & Hades is banished to the deep depths, forced to hold their Father’s and abusers’ key. Poseidon who they can never seem to explain the difference of morals between squashing ants vs humans, Poseidon who enjoys the interest of torture but hates eating bc it ‘feels weird’ in their body, Poseidon who has inhuman amounts of power and stamina but whose help is just as unreliable as the Ocean’s. Poseidon who could have ended the war as soon as it woke up but found a way to wander away each time. Poseidon who they thought was a traitor for a long while. Hades was Zeus’s best friend, but Poseidon who barely anybody seems to know stands at his side? Hades was known throughout the war as many things, the holder of grudges most prevalent of all of them, and that’s going to bite Zeus who once relied on that best of all the most in the butt.

Anyway. Angsty Big Three Hours :(((((

[Tho I absolutely have more if you want :)))). & specifics! /pos]

Nono it's fine. We can fix this. We'll just create an AU where they have a nice and healthy relationship between them. It's fine. We can have fluffy moments between them.

It's fine.

*sobs*

We can have the sarcastic and happy go lucky brothers trio. Of course we can.

[dollfacefantasy]

ROLE REVERSAL ♡

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon finds his old raccoon city uniform. instead of letting the past haunt him, he dresses you in it. it looks much prettier that way.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, officer/criminal roleplay, handcuffs

a/n: for my leon babies, i hope you all enjoy <3

kinktober slot: day 5 - roleplay

The points of your heels click against the hardwood slats on the floor of the bedroom. Thin and elegant, the tips slick and triangular. Your boyfriend watches you waltz into the room from his spot on your shared bed. The sharp post at the center of the head board supported his hands, bound by a shiny pair of silver handcuffs.

"You're in a lot of trouble, Mr. Kennedy. Do you know why you're here today?" your voice asks, floating through the room in a seductive melody.

His eyes flit up and down over your figure. Your curves were clad in his police uniform. The spare one that hadn't seen the blood and guts of September 30th, 1998. The pale blue fabric remained pristine and bright. The golden badge on your breast glimmered as if Leon actually got to put it to good use. 

But he didn't have to think about that right now. Didn't have to remember how his life's dream had withered away with everything else in the nuclear blast. Instead he could look at you. How the cerulean polyester fits snug around your waist and chest. How you had the fabric tied into a little knot above your navel. How the pair of navy blue lace panties you had on below set off the light shade above perfectly.

A low whistle leaves his lips.

"No, sweetheart. But I gotta say, you look better in that old thing than I ever did," he responds.

A smile comes over your painted lips, but you still roll your eyes and stamp your heel.

"Leon!" you huff, "You agreed to do this, so you have to stay in character. That's not how you talk to an officer of the law."

"Oh, you're right. My mistake, officer," he says with a smirk. He clears his throat as if getting into character. "No. Not a clue."

That pleases you, and you continue walking towards the edge of the bed, your hips swaying with each step. A hair brush taps one of your palms. Your version of a night stick if he had to guess.

"I don't believe you. You've been a very bad boy. Committed a long list of crimes that should have you locked up for the next couple decades," you say.

As he watches your performance, he can't help but find you so cute. The way you speak, your attempt at taking control, is an obvious imitation of his cadence in intimate moments.

"Have I really?" he asks, eyes lazily drifting up to your face.

"Yep. But maybe, just maybe, if you give me some information about the people who put you up to it, we can make a deal."

"I'm not telling you a thing without my lawyer here," he says.

As cocky as he acted, Leon was already nude before you on the mattress. His pale skin almost glows in the dim orangey light of your bedroom. Scars trail across his abdomen that had become a little softer in the last several months. Brown hair dusts the skin of his tummy down to the collection of it curling above the base of his cock. His pretty cock, half-hard between his legs, just waiting for your attention.

You take advantage of his condition by ghosting the bristles of the brush over his v-line. The sensation tickles slightly. His hips twitch, and you see his dick jump at the faint touch to the sensitive area. 

"Why not? You can trust me, Mr. Kennedy. I just want to wrap this up as quickly as possible."

The broad end of your tool coasts over his stomach now, going up to his chest to tease his nipples before you swing it back down to the lower half of him. His heart beat picks up, and his blood starts flowing down south. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his length begin to stiffen.

"I'm not stupid," he says, his tone audibly huskier, "You never talk to the police without a lawyer."

Bringing your knee onto the edge of the foamy mattress, you boost yourself to kneel next to his immobile form.

"Normally I'd agree with you. But I'm different," you say. You come closer and swing your leg over his body so that you're straddling his lap, hovering above his cock. "Even though I believe you're guilty as sin, I want to help you."

His chest vibrates with the urge to groan at the feeling of your clothed heat so close to his aching shaft. "Why's that?" he chokes out instead.

"Because look at you. You're much more useful to me out here than behind bars," you say, reaching down behind and fondling his balls. The groan he held in before oozes from his mouth at the feeling. His cock kicks up now, resting against your center. You adjust to position the appendage between your legs. The cute pink tip stares up at you from where it peeks out of the junction between your thighs.

"That doesn't sound very professional, officer," he says. He has to remember that his hands are fastened above him because your hips call to him. The urge to squeeze them, to knead the flesh and smack your ass, boils in his chest.

You feel your clit starting to throb for his touch as well. The look in his eyes, the way his lips had parted to accommodate his breathing had you growing more and more damp by the moment.

"That, I never claimed to be," you say. 

You slide your hand down over your body, taking time to highlight the presence of his dated uniform. Your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties. A shuddery breath leaves your lungs as your fingertip slots between your folds and finds your needy bud.

Your digit glides through the small amount of arousal, beckoning more to coat your cunt. He watches with lust-blown eyes, the surface beginning to glaze with desire. You whimper, the sound so soft and delicate it makes him buck upwards.

"Patience. You don't get rewarded for insulting me," you say and lift yourself away from him.

"Oh c'mon, baby," he grunts, "Gimme a break. I didn't insult you."

"Nope. I won't help you out unless you ask me properly," you say, grinning at the prospect of him groveling.

You play with your clit a little more, chest puffing within the confines of his top. You tilt your head back, and your spine arches with the dull pleasure you're providing yourself.

"Fuck..." he breathes, "Please, officer."

"Please what?"

"Please touch me."

The words come out laced with an intoxicating note of desperation. Your head returns to an upright position, your eyes blazing onto him.

"That's better," you purr.

By this point, you'd worked yourself up enough that the cloth guarding your cunt was soaked, sticky and clinging to your center. You spread your legs and lower to press yourself against him. He moans when your warmth makes contact.

You begin moving back and forth in tiny strokes. He whines and tugs on his restraints. The feeling of the fabric against him burns in the best way. A whine comes from you too as the bump of his tip strikes your bundle of nerves.

"Such a pretty, obedient boy. I bet I can whip you back into a functioning member of society in no time."

Grinding down with more pressure, a symphony of blissed out noises erupt from the two of you. Your palms rest on his belly to support yourself while your hips do all the work. Forward, backward, forward, backward. Like a pendulum you swipe over him in rapid succession.

Humping feels good. It always does. But after a while more, you crave a deeper sense of satisfaction.

You pull your panties to the side and grab his leaky cock. It had been drooling precum onto his pelvis, but now, it was going to be tucked inside you. You rise up and then sink back down, eliciting a mewl from yourself and another deep groan from your lover.

"See what happens when you behave and follow the rules?" you whimper.

"Uh huh. Think I'll be a much better citizen after this," he mutters.

You start to bounce, moving up and down on his shaft. The ridges of his veins rub against your insides. A chill runs up your spine. Bumps prickle up over your skin despite its heated nature. Your skin claps against his while pants puff from nostrils.

He's not keeping it together under you much better. He'd already been pretty close from the stimulation you'd given prior to this. Being engulfed in your tight cunt's wet embrace didn't stave off release at all. His heels dig into the mattress and allow him to reciprocate your movements, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"Fuck!" you yelp when he strikes your spot. You ride faster, getting lost in the pleasure. It's getting too hot now, so you tug the police shirt off your body, your breasts swinging free. The cool air brings some relief, and you toss the garment to the floor without another thought.

"Gonna cum for me, babydoll?" you ask Leon, the playful pet name you call him resurfacing. The commitment to the roleplay had vanished with the disrobing of the costume.

"Mhm, almost there, sugar," he grunts.

You squeeze around him, pulsing as your hips swivel and roll. You feel yourself getting there too. Release explodes in you like a firework, bursting in the pit of your belly and fizzling outwards to everywhere else. Your movements become erratic and rhythmless, but you continue on.

Leon can't take the pressure your orgasm brings. You clenching around him is too much to bear and he blows his load inside you, filling you up with his cum. You work it out of him with a few more fluid movements.

As soon as the wave has passed and receded, you fall forward onto his chest. You don't pull off him or let him leave your insides. All you do is nuzzle his dewy skin and smack a few wet kisses onto the area.

"You did pretty good," he rasps, the look on his face ever-teasing, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a professional."

"Oh shut up. You were into it," you huff and smile up at him.

Now you do climb off his body, reaching the floor and stretching your limbs. The next thing you want to do is go take a shower with your man, but you realize something and look over at him.

"Oh shit. Where did I put the keys to the handcuffs?"

[celestialprincesse]

𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧 𝐆𝐨 - 𝟔

You're not sure whether asking Nikto how he worked out what your favourite foods are is a good idea. Realistically, you know that men in his field are required to be perceptive, to pick out the smallest of details which may be useful later. He's been in your house so many times, in your fridge for a left over slice of pie, or the less that you can barely consider a garage to grab whatever tool he'd needed to fix your wobbly fencepost. On the one hand, his awareness of you, what you like and dislike, is comforting. It feels safe to have someone so constantly tuned in on your frequency. Safe. On the other? Having someone so impossibly attentive to your needs is unsettling. It's been far too long since you've had someone shadowing your day-to-day life - and Nikto is, undeniably, like a shadow.

The picnic is - it's really sweet. Well intentioned. The execution, admittedly is rudimentary, but you're just splitting hairs. A guy set you up a picnic after you practically sucked off his face in your kitchen. You're pretty sure most would've run had they felt the sheer reverence, the need in your kiss. He fixed your fence.

Now you're sat rather awkwardly beside one another, picking at a strange assortment of cheeses and fruits, making stilted conversation as you watch a herd of cows graze a couple of fields down.

"How did you know my fence was broken?" You hum in an absent, obvious attempt to keep the conversation going. Tough considering you barely know anything about Nikto, and yet he seems to know everything about you. Your weak endeavour towards filling the stillness between the two of you obviously doesn't go unnoticed - nor does the way your make an effort to dig deeper and see just how much of you Nikto actually catches.

"You hit it with your car a few weeks ago." He states bluntly, leaving you flushing a beet red. Foolishly, you'd always believed that your sub-par driving skills were just imagined, that no one saw you the way you saw yourself. Clearly, you've been wrong all along.

"You do have your drivers license, yes?" Nikto continues to chide, unable to help the way his blood rushes south when you blush, fluttering your lashes as you avert your gaze to the strawberry you'd been just about to eat. "Mhm." You mumble, trying to feign an indignant look - futile, seeing as he's already caught you in the act of your embarrassment.

"I can help you if you would like." Nikto utters, before he too turns his burning face towards the gingham blanket he'd found whilst trawling the grocery store in the small hours of this morning, trying to be as prepared as possible for your date. He's far too quickly become accustomed to your little quirks and reactions, the way you flinch like a frightened bunny from loud noises, or worry at your lip when you're nervous but still trying to seem nonchalant. You're hardly ever nonchalant about anything. He sees that too. "Is it the car that you struggle with?" He tries, so desperately, to claw himself from the hole he's seemingly fallen into, painfully aware that he's probably coming off as some condescending, patronising prick. He knows you can drive. Kind of. However, the thought of helping you, spending time with you, taking all of the menial tasks of daily life out of your hands, he can't help but to yearn for it. Or maybe it's just you. You're the one thing he finds himself wanting for after a life of solitude. You, your silly little shoes, and strawberry flavoured lips, your bows and pearls. You with a smile so bright it's blinding, and a laugh that could bring the cruelest of men to his knees. You are what he yearns for. The silver lining to the rainclouds which have so long darkened his days. You, you, you.

He doesn't even realise you'd been talking until you stop. Only, of course, to take the next best course of action towards capturing his attention, shuffling towards him until you're sat flush against his side, blinking up at him with a look that clearly suggests that you're asking for permission. The fact that he doesn't get hard right then and there is a miracle - though he's not sure if it's one that'll last. At least, not when you finally work up the guts to crawl up into his lap like a needy cat, searching for attention by any means possible. Last week he was barely refraining from tearing your clothes off and taking you on the counter in your kitchen. This is far more intimate. This is what he wants.

He wants to see the way your cheeks flush pink when his hands slide up your skirt, just enough to brush the calloused pad of his thumb over the delicate lace of your underwear. With bated breath, he wants to watch the way the late afternoon sun turns your hair into a halo of molten metal, cascading from the crown of your head in some glorious inferno.

The little sound of your breath hitching as he noses at your jaw is only the first nail in the cruelest of coffins, burying him alive under the crushing weight of his adoration for you. This, he thinks, this is what he's waited for. This is both his reward, and his punishment for the toil of his career, of his life. His reward, you, so sweet and soft in his lap, pliable as gold, glittering as the brightest of precious stones. Breaking you, breaking your pretty, trusting heart, is entirely out of the question. He'd rather shoot himself in the kneecaps. Walk headfirst into enemy territory and beg to be tortured. Step on a landmine. Any and all of it would be better than seeing you hurt.

Whilst he can't find the words for the way he adored you, he can most definitely find the actions.

Nothing, no man, has ever made you feel the way you do as Nikto eases you to lie back on the picnic blanket, hooking your knees over his shoulders. A kiss to your inner thigh. "I hope you don't mind people hearing, Princess. I intend to make you scream."

[coffeeghoulie]

Mushy May Day 22: Reminiscing

Mountain wakes in the middle of the night and watches his mates sleep.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for making the dividers <3

Another alternate prompt for today!

Mountain can't sleep. It's strange. He's normally the first of the three of them out, snoring gently before his partners have even closed their eyes. Normally sleeps through the night without fail. But despite being awake, he cherishes it, the room dark, barring the silver moonlight that slips through their curtains, just enough to see by.

He turns in Dew's arms, slowly, carefully, not to wake him. But if Dew can sleep through Aether's snoring, rattling in his chest like a chainsaw, Dew can sleep through anything. The fire ghoul's expression is peaceful, eyes gently closed and moving under lids, dreaming. The furrow between his brows is smoothed over, and Mountain can't help himself from brushing a strand of spun gold hair back behind the point of his ear.

It moves his hair off of his neck, and it's just barely bright enough to make out the silvery, parallel scars that line the sides of Dew's throat. Mountain exhales through his nose, unable to resist bringing his fingertip down, tracing featherlight over one of the long cauterized scars.

Dew's ear twitches, piercings jingling, and Mountain pulls his hand back. He stirs, but doesn't wake, mumbling something nonsensical. Mountain's lips quirk up, just staring fondly at his smaller mate. He remembers when those scars were fluttering teal fins, when the spun gold hair was silver.

It makes something pang deep in his heart, the remembering. When things were unimaginably bad, when the three of them clung to each other like fresh, new kits too scared to leave the nest. Scents changing, sea salt to campfire.Terrified, unsafe, paranoid of every shadow.

Things are better now, the band den full of pack again, ghouls that Mountain loves with everything he has. And he has Aether and Dew, peacefully asleep in their shared nest.

He smiles, moving to settle back down. There's a hand curling around his bicep, and he jolts, Aether's eyes glowing amethyst in the dim light as they meet Mountain's.

"Everything okay, sweet thing?" Aether whispers, voice gruff with sleep. "I knew you woke up early for the greenhouse, but I didn't think it was this early yet." The joke is light in his tone, thumb smoothing over his freckled skin, right on his farmer's tan line.

Mountain snorts quietly, kicking into a rumbling purr. "I dunno why I'm up, sorry for waking you."

Aether shrugs with one arm, the other pillowed under Dew's head. "You didn't, not really, just sort of... felt your emotions. More intense than they usually are this late."

"I was just thinking," he says, eyes drifting down to their mate between them. The grip on his arm tightens, Aether's thumb still rubbing in an arc over his bicep.

"We're okay, we made it," Aether whispers, and Mountain nods.

"I know, this is real."

"We earned it, we earned our rest," he says, eyes half-lidded with sleep but still so kind and warm, the magick swirling in his irises like galaxies.

"If we earned our rest, can we please fucking sleep?" Dew mumbles groggily, shifting between them with an adorable pout on his lips.

"Sorry, firefly," Mountain whispers, leaning down to press a kiss on his mate's forehead, letting Dew pull him closer. Their legs tangle together, and Mountain can feel Dew's pulse where their chests are pressed together, remembers how feathery and frantic it was back then, just how much terror tinged their scents. It was so bad they had to get new sheets.

Dew's expression softens, wrapping his arms around Mountain's torso, squeezing him that much tighter. "You okay, junie?" His voice is soft, sweet, the way he speaks to them versus the way he speaks to the rest of the pack.

Mountain nods, a soft keen slipping past his lips as he ducks down again and nuzzles into the crown of Dew's head, avoiding the sharp point of his little obsidian horns. "I love you two," he whispers, eyes darting from Dew's to Aether's and back. "So much. I don't know what to do with it all, I love you so much."

He can see the way Aether's cheek dimples as he smiles fondly over Dew's shoulder, can feel the way Dew's grip around his middle tightens. "Love you too, junie," Dew whispers, breath infernally hot against the shell of Mountain's ear.

Aether's hand squeezes his bicep in three quick pulses. "Love you too, sweet thing. Don't know what I'd do without the two of you."

Dew cranes his neck, peering over his shoulder at him. "You won't have to find out, swear it on our Father Below," he declares, a stubbornness set in his shoulders, and Aether leans down and kisses him. He turns, leaning over Dew's narrow shoulders to kiss Mountain too, tasting the beeswax of his lipbalm.

"Alright," Dew huffs, pulling the two of them back down to the mattress. "I love you two dearly, but can we please sleep?"

"Anything for my darlings," Aether hums, wrapping his arms around the two of them, hauling them closer to him. "Good night."

Dew hums, satisfied, copper eyes shutting as he snuggles between them. Very quickly, Mountain's the only one still awake. He looks at his mates, feels their body heat burning warm. He settles into the nest, breathing in their oh-so familiar scents, and lets that carry him back to sleep.

[michelle-is-writing]

Wedding Dress Shopping, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.5k~

It was not my original plan to go out and help my cousin pick out a wedding dress before her bridal party, but when she texted me about it at the last minute, wanting it to just be us, how could I say no? Besides, I thought it would be fun to watch my cousin try on wedding dresses and help her pick out the final one. I can also get a good idea of what to look for when I go shopping for my wedding dress in the future.

The dresses my cousin picked out were all quite beautiful. One was a mermaid style with silver tulle at the bottom, another being a cremé color that was strapless and poofed out like a quinceanera dress, and the last one was the only one she gasped at upon seeing herself in. It was a very bright white, almost a light blue, gown that was shorter in the front and long in the back. It had small fine jewels lining the bottom of the top before it spread out to the bottom piece. When she walked around in it, anyone's attention would be stuck on the way that the back flowed behind her elegantly, almost as if she were royalty.

"This one," she decides with no hesitation in her voice as she looks at her reflection in the mirror. "This one, for sure."

I smile and stand from the couch to walk up to her and get a full look at the dress in the mirror. I'll admit, it's beautiful and it fits my cousin very well. Not to mention the jewels are blue topaz, which also happens to be her favorite jewel.

"That's great!" The wedding planner exclaims from the corner of the room. Looking down at her watch, she speaks up. "You both still have forty-five minutes left; would you like to look at veils or gloves?" She asks, placing her hands together. My cousin shakes her head, still looking at herself in the mirror. "No, I've already got all those things picked out..." she explains, her voice draining on as if she were in mid-thought.

Looking over at me, she grins and hurries down off the platform and onto the same floor as me before taking my hands into hers and moving them around excitedly. "I have an idea!" She exclaims, grinning wildly now as she bounces from foot to foot. "Why don't you try on a wedding dress?" She suggests. "You and Spencer are getting married soon, and since it's just us here, why not?"

I smile at my cousin's words and glance down at the ring Spencer gave me several months ago, a silver band with an opal stone and (birthstone), each representing the month that Spencer and I were born. He had it specially made, which makes it even more meaningful.

Looking back at my cousin, I shake my head. "I can't," I tell her. "It's your day, not mine. It's all about you!" I remind the beautiful bride. She only grins once more and rolls her eyes before dragging me over to the dress selections. "Forget the rules!" She states, moving dresses around for me to look at everything. "Find the one you absolutely love!"

None catch my eye until she stops at a white dress with lacy patterns all throughout it. Seeing my eyes linger on this particular dress for a few seconds, my cousin then takes it from the rack and holds it up, letting me see that it's an off-the-shoulder dress with a flared bottom piece and long sleeves that end with lace. I absolutely love it, and by the looks of my cousin's facial expression, she does too.

"Go! Try it on!" She says, pushing it into my arms. Smiling, I nod at her before walking off and heading into an empty dressing room. Slipping my jeans and t-shirt off, I slide into the dress and look at myself in the mirror. Even though it's unzipped, it still appears to be so perfect. It fits my curves perfectly while accentuating my waist. Not to mention it shows off my shoulders and a little cleavage, but I'm not arguing.

"How does it look?" I hear my cousin ask before yanking the curtains to my dressing room open, revealing her to still be in her dress. Upon seeing me, she gasps with a huge smile. "I love it," she tells me, moving behind me to zip it. Once she does, we both look in the mirror at our dresses, the smiles on our faces growing. "I love it even more now," My cousin announces.

"Me too," I agree, running my hands over my hips. It's at this point I realize this is the dress I want. This is the dress I'm going to wear to my wedding. Not only does it look good on me, but the price is perfect.

After dragging me out of the dressing room, both my cousin and the wedding planner force me into a pair of heels and a veil as well. Standing on the platform, I smile as my cousin behind me smooths everything out while the planner takes a picture of me. This day was not originally supposed to be for me, but somehow I'm now being treated like a princess. I can't say that I don't like it though.

"(Y/n)?" I hear my name being called. Turning around with my cousin following, I see my fiancé standing at the doors with a slightly confused face. Quickly looking at the wall clock above the doors, I see it's three o'clock, which is the time Spencer was supposed to pick me up... and now he's here... seeing me in my dress. I'm so embarrassed, and I don't know why.

"We had a little extra time," I quickly explain, blushing. "And we found this dress, and it fit, and-"

"And you look incredibly beautiful." Spencer cuts me off from my rambling. His compliment makes me smile and blush even more. Trying to avoid Spencer's eyes, I avert my gaze to the floor as my cousin and the planner walk away to leave Spencer and me to each other, smiling as they do so.

"It wasn't my plan to try on a dress today," I tell Spencer as he steps onto the platform. "But we found this one, and I really like it," I admit, moving my hands to the sides of my dress.

"I love it," He states, causing me to look up at him and smile. He then takes my hands and holds my arms out as his eyes flash over me and the dress, soon reaching my face where his smile beams, and eyes twinkle. It is at this moment I realize Spencer holds the same type of love for me as I do for him.

"God, I could marry you right now," he tells me, moving in to kiss me. When he does, I laugh and pull back a little, seeing him stare intently in my eyes. "You look so... gorgeous," Spence tells me again, making my blush darken. "You're completely stunning."

"Isn't there an old wives tale that says you're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding?" I ask him with a smirk.

"Well, in this day and age, many people refer to the time right before the wedding, and yes, it's supposedly bad luck," he answers me. "but the folklore actually refers to the time when arranged marriages were custom, and the betrothed couples were not allowed to each other before the wedding at all," he smiles, leaning in again with a smirk. "So, I think we're okay."

After my cousin and I purchase our dresses, veils, and even heels, I bid her goodbye before Spencer and I climb into his car and begin driving home with the wedding gown and accessories safely in the back. The ride to our apartment is quiet; however, it's sweet at the same time. Words don't need to be exchanged between us as the pleasant feelings we're feeling take over the silence.

With my head leaning on Spencer's shoulder and his hand enclosed in mine as the other rests on the wheel, our admiration for each other shows through our smiles. Once we arrive home, we remain silent in the car for a few moments before turning our heads and connecting our lips in a sweet kiss.

"I really did..." Spencer begins as he pulls his lips away from mine. Blushing, he looks down and smiles before flashing his beautiful brown eyes back up to mine. "I really did like you in that dress," He finishes his sentence, now smirking. "It reminds me of what the rest of my life is going to be like, and I can't ask for anything better."

[tatumrileyslover]

Beneath Still Waters

A Stain On Summer [1]

Summer at Mason's Creek Summer Camp: where ghost stories come to life and campers vanish without a trace. As bloody clues surface and dark secrets emerge, a counselor finds herself at the center of a terrifying mystery. In these woods, trust is a luxury she can't afford - because the next victim could be her.

🏕 jungkook x reader x jimin

🏕 word count: 6.0k

🏕 warnings: not a lot of major warning for these first few chapters. Some blood mentioned. A little bit of jealousy. the horror element aren’t present in these first few chapters but be aware if it’s not a genre you like reading that the story contains murder and gore in later chapters <3

🏕 notes: I came up with this idea while replaying the quarry, which really inspired me to write this because I don’t think I’ve seen anyone write anything like this yet so please enjoy <3 also please comment to lmk if you guys actually liked this or not :P

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The bright rays of sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of pine trees, casting long shadows across the well-worn path to the amphitheater. (Y/n) who struggled to wrangle a stray group children, her arms full of scripts and prop lists, paused for a moment to breathe in the crisp morning air. Four weeks into her stint as a counselor at Mason's Creek Summer Camp, and she still found herself in awe of the natural beauty surrounding her. Sure, it was still almost impossible to hear the birds chirping over the constant chattering of the children, but being out in nature had a calming effect like no other.

The amphitheater, a rustic wooden structure nestled in a small clearing, not too far from the camp itself, came into view as (Y/n) rounded the final bend. Weather-beaten benches arranged in a semicircle faced a makeshift stage, where a group of eager campers were already gathering. Their excited chatter filled the air, a stark contrast to the serene forest backdrop.

(Y/n) smiled, adjusting her load as she approached. "Alright, thespians," she called out, her voice carrying across the clearing. "Who's ready to bring some Shakespeare to life?"

A chorus of enthusiastic responses greeted her, and (Y/n) felt a familiar thrill of excitement. This was why she loved being the Arts and Performance counselor. The energy, the creativity, the sheer joy of watching these kids discover their talents – it never got old.

Some of the bright faces talked happily among themselves, prepping for the morning activities, while others scoffed down the remaining remnants of breakfast - which (Y/n) had missed out on. She had been holed up in the Camp Director's Office since the sun began to rise, stuck to the ancient printer that wheezed and groaned with each page it reluctantly produced. Getting all the scripts in order had taken longer than she'd anticipated, but she was determined to have everything ready for the day's drama workshop.

As she began distributing scripts, her eyes scanning the excited faces of her campers, (Y/n) caught sight of a familiar figure jogging towards them. Jimin, his silver hair catching the morning light, waved as he approached. A small group of young girls near the edge of the group erupted into giggles, nudging each other and stealing glances at him.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, slightly out of breath. "Hoseok needed help with a last-minute change to the afternoon activities."

(Y/n) felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Jimin, I almost thought you weren't going to come. I was starting to think I'd have to manage this bunch alone."

He grinned, slapping her shoulder playfully. "And leave you to fend for yourself? Not a chance. Is that what you think of me?"

"Can you help some of those girls with their lines? They're still struggling with Act Two." She slapped a script to his chest with a smile.

As Jimin moved to assist a group of eager campers, who giggled as he approached, (Y/n) couldn't help but smile. There was an ease to their partnership, a natural rhythm they'd fallen into over the weeks. She couldn't have been more relieved that they had promised to help each other out before camp had started, not wanting to think of how she would deal with the hyperactive children by herself. She watched as he patiently guided the kids through their lines, his enthusiasm infectious.

After setting the older campers to work on their scenes, (Y/n) made her way back to where Jimin was sitting. She plopped down next to him, their shoulders brushing.

"How's it going over here?" she asked, nodding towards the group of kids now animatedly acting out their parts.

Jimin chuckled. "I think we might have a few future Broadway stars on our hands. Did you see the dramatics earlier?"

(Y/n) laughed, the tension from her hectic morning melting away. "Oh, it was Oscar-worthy for sure."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the campers' enthusiastic, if slightly chaotic, performances. Without thinking, (Y/n) leaned her head on Jimin's shoulder, a gesture born from years of familiarity.

"Thanks again for coming to help," she said softly. "I don't know what I'd do without you here."

Jimin's reply was warm. "Always, (Y/n)."

As they watched the impromptu performances unfold, trading quiet jokes and observations, (Y/n) felt grateful for this moment of peace amidst the usual camp chaos. She caught sight of Jimin's little fan club stealing glances their way and suppressed a smirk. However, their quiet companionship was soon interrupted as one of the younger campers approached, tugging on (Y/n)'s sleeve needing assistance with some props. 

The sound of laughter drew (Y/n)'s attention back to the stage, where two campers were attempting an overly dramatic interpretation of a scene from "Romeo and Juliet." She stifled a chuckle, moving closer to offer guidance.

As the rehearsal progressed, the forest around them grew darker, the shadows deepening between the trees. (Y/n) found herself glancing at the tree line more frequently, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. Maybe it was the ghost stories Taehyung had been telling at the campfire the night before, or maybe it was something else entirely, but she couldn't shake the sensation of being watched.

The forest seemed to press in closer, the spaces between the trees now pitch black. She shook her head, trying to dispel the creeping sense of unease. It was just her imagination, she told herself. Just the power of suggestion after too many campfire tales.

But as the rehearsal continued, (Y/n) couldn't quite convince herself that everything was as it should be. Something had changed at Camp Mason's Creek, a subtle shift in the atmosphere that she couldn't quite put her finger on. 

The Arts and Crafts cabin stood as a haven of creativity amidst the bustling camp grounds. As (Y/n) pushed open the heavy wooden door, she was greeted by the familiar earthy scent of wet clay that permeated the air. The midday sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the room, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floorboards and illuminating specks of dust dancing in the air.

(Y/n) paused for a moment, taking in the scene before her. The large, open space was filled with tables of various sizes, each covered with plastic sheets to protect them from the inevitable mess. Shelves lined the walls, laden with an assortment of finished and half-finished projects – a testament to the campers' creativity over the weeks.

"Alright, everyone," (Y/n) called out, clapping her hands to get the attention of the excited campers filing in behind her. "Find a spot and we'll get started on our pottery project."

The room quickly filled with the sound of chatter and scraping chairs as the children settled into their places. (Y/n) moved between the tables, distributing lumps of clay and making sure everyone had the tools they needed.

"Remember," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the excited murmurs, "we're focusing on hand-building today. For those of you who want to try the wheel, we'll have time for that later in the week."

As the campers began to work, (Y/n) circulated the room, offering guidance and encouragement. She paused at one table where a young girl named Mia was frowning at her lump of clay.

"Everything okay, Mia?" (Y/n) asked, crouching down beside her.

Mia looked up, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I can't get it to look right," she said, gesturing at her misshapen attempt at a bowl.

(Y/n) smiled reassuringly. "That's okay. Remember, pottery isn't about perfection. It's about expressing yourself." She reached over, gently guiding Mia's hands. "Try pressing here, and smoothing it out like this."

As Mia's face lit up with renewed determination, (Y/n) felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Max, one of the older campers, holding up a blob of clay that vaguely resembled a face.

"Miss (Y/n), is this good enough for a self-portrait?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

(Y/n) bit back a laugh. "Well, Max, I think you've captured your essence perfectly. Maybe try adding some more hair, it looks like you're balding."

The room was soon filled with the sounds of laughter, concentration, and the occasional frustrated sigh. The whir of some of the pottery wheels added a rhythmic backdrop to the creative chaos. (Y/n) found herself lost in the joy of it all, moving from table to table, offering a word of advice here, a helping hand there.

She was in the middle of demonstrating how to attach a handle to a mug when a knock at the door caught her attention. Looking up, she saw Jungkook leaning against the doorframe, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Archery finished early," he said, stepping into the room. "Thought I'd come see if you needed any help."

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. "Help, or make a mess?"

Jungkook clutched his chest in mock offense. "I'll have you know I'm an excellent potter. A modern day Michelangelo with clay."

The younger campers perked up at his arrival, excited whispers rippling through the room. (Y/n) couldn't help but notice the way some of the older girls suddenly became very interested in their work, stealing glances at Jungkook when they thought no one was looking.

"Alright, Michelangelo," (Y/n) challenged, gesturing to an empty wheel. "Show us what you've got."

Jungkook rolled up his sleeves, confidence radiating from every pore as he sat down at the wheel. "Watch and learn, kids. This is how you make a vase."

What followed was possibly the most disastrous attempt at pottery (Y/n) had ever witnessed. Clay flew in all directions as Jungkook struggled to control the wheel, his "vase" looking more like a formless lump with each passing second.

"Oops," he said, grinning sheepishly as a glob of clay landed on his cheek. "I meant to do that. It's abstract art."

The campers giggled, thoroughly entertained by the spectacle. (Y/n) shook her head, unable to keep the amusement off her face as she moved behind him.

"Here, let me help," she said, reaching around to guide his hands. "You need to center the clay first."

The moment her hands touched his, (Y/n) felt a jolt of electricity run through her. She was suddenly very aware of how close they were, of the warmth of his back against her chest. Jungkook turned his head slightly, their faces inches apart, and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to fade away.

"Like this?" he asked softly, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

(Y/n) swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus on the clay. "Y-yeah, just... gentle pressure. Let the clay guide your hands."

As they worked together, (Y/n) became aware of the hushed whispers and giggles from the campers around them. She caught snippets of their conversations - "They're so cute!" "Do you think they like each other?" - but she was too distracted by Jungkook's presence to pay much attention.

Finally, they managed to shape something vaguely resembling a vase. (Y/n) stepped back, her cheeks flushed. "See? Not so hard."

Jungkook grinned up at her. "I had a great teacher. Maybe next time you can show me how to make a bowl?"

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile. "Maybe next time you should stick to archery."

As Jungkook stood up from the pottery wheel, (Y/n) noticed the smear of clay still on his cheek. Without thinking, she reached out, her hand cupping his face gently.

"Hold still," she said softly, using her thumb to wipe away the clay. "You've got a little..."

Their eyes met, and (Y/n) suddenly realized how intimate the gesture was. Jungkook's skin was warm under her touch, his gaze intense. For a moment, they both seemed to forget where they were.

"There," (Y/n) said, her voice barely above a whisper as she lowered her hand. "All clean."

Jungkook's lips curved into a slow smile. "Thanks," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers.

The spell was broken by a giggle from nearby, reminding them both that they were surrounded by campers. (Y/n) stepped back, her cheeks flushing as she turned to address the class, acutely aware of Jungkook's gaze still on her.

The rest of the session passed in a blur, with Jungkook moving around the room, charming the campers and occasionally catching (Y/n)'s eye with a wink or a smile that made her heart skip a beat. He proved to be surprisingly good at helping the younger kids, patiently guiding their small hands and offering enthusiastic praise for even the most misshapen creations.

As the session wound down and the campers began cleaning up, (Y/n) found herself both relieved and disappointed that it was over. She watched as Jungkook helped some of the younger kids wash their hands, marveling at how good he was with them.

"Thanks for your help," she said as he approached her, wiping his hands on a towel. "Even if you did turn the place into a war zone."

Jungkook laughed, running a hand through his hair and leaving a streak of clay behind. "What can I say? I'm a man of many talents. Some of them are even useful."

Before (Y/n) could respond, they were interrupted by the sound of shouting outside. Looking out the window, they saw a group of campers arguing over a football.

Jungkook sighed. "Duty calls. Can't let them have all the fun without me. See you at dinner?"

(Y/n) nodded, watching as he jogged out to break up the fight. As she turned back to oversee the final cleanup, she couldn't shake the lingering warmth of his touch, or the way her heart raced when he smiled at her.

As the last of the campers filed out, clay-covered masterpieces being shoved in a windowsill to let dry out. (Y/n) began the task of cleaning up. She moved around the room, wiping down tables and organizing supplies, her mind replaying the afternoon's events. She thought about the way Jungkook's eyes had crinkled when he laughed, the gentle pressure of his hands under hers as she guided him on the wheel.

(Y/n) sighed, tossing a clay-covered rag into the sink. It was just a harmless flirtation, she told herself. Nothing more. But as she locked up the craft cabin and headed towards the dining hall, she couldn't quite convince herself that was true.

The smell of dinner wafted across the camp, mingling with the earthy scent of the forest and the lingering aroma of clay on her clothes. Eden took a deep breath, pushing thoughts of Jungkook to the back of her mind. There were still hours left in the day, more activities to oversee, more campers to look after.

But as she walked, she couldn't help but look forward to dinner, the smell of food made her stomach rumble as she realised she hadn't eaten anything since last night's dinner. Quickly, she locked up the cabin and made her way to the mess hall that ushered in hoard of ravenous children.

The mess hall buzzed with excitement, a cacophony of laughter, clattering utensils, and animated chatter filling the air. Long wooden tables stretched from end to end, their surfaces scarred with years of summer memories carved by eager campers. Overhead, strings of fairy lights twinkled softly, complementing the warm glow of the setting sun that streamed through the large windows.

The aroma of tonight's special dinner - barbecue ribs, corn on the cob, and s'more brownies for dessert - wafted from the kitchen, eliciting eager anticipation from campers and counselors alike. It was a feast to mark the halfway point of the summer, and the excitement was palpable.

(Y/n) sat at the counselors' table, Jimin on one side and an empty seat on the other. She couldn't help but notice Jungkook's absence, probably still being held up by the children fighting over the football. Her gaze drifted across the room, taking in the scene.

At the far end of the table, Yoongi sat slightly apart, picking at his food and occasionally glancing up at the chaos around him with a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. Jin and Namjoon had their heads together at a small table near the kitchen, deep in discussion about what (Y/n) assumed were camp logistics.

"So," Jimin said, his voice snapping her out of her trance, a hint of something in his voice, "I heard Jungkook paid you a visit during arts and crafts."

(Y/n) felt heat rise to her cheeks. "News travels fast around here, doesn't it?"

Taehyung leaned in, eyes sparkling with interest. "Oh? Do tell!"

"There's nothing to tell," (Y/n) insisted, perhaps a bit too quickly. "He just stopped by and made a mess with the pottery wheel."

"Uh-huh," Jimin said, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent (Y/n) couldn't quite place. 

"So," Taehyung cut in, leaning across the table with a mischievous glint in his eye, "who's ready for some ghost stories tonight?"

Hoseok groaned dramatically, dropping his fork. "Come on, Tae. You know those stories give me nightmares."

"Aww, is our Hobi scared of the big bad ghosts?" Taehyung teased, reaching over to pinch Hoseok's cheek.

Hoseok swatted his hand away, pouting. "I'm not scared! I just... appreciate a good night's sleep, that's all."

Jimin chuckled, nudging (Y/n). "Maybe we should pair Hoseok with some of the older kids tonight, yeah? For protection."

(Y/n) smiled, about to respond when Jungkook finally arrived, sliding into the empty seat beside her. His hair was slightly damp, and he smelled faintly of grass and sweat.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, flashing a grin that made (Y/n)'s heart skip a beat. "Had to settle a dispute over the last soccer ball. Looks like I missed the ribs, though." He eyed (Y/n)'s plate hopefully.

"Don't even think about it, Jeon," (Y/n) warned, but she was already pushing her plate towards him.

As Jungkook settled in, his arm brushing against (Y/n)'s, she noticed Jimin tense beside her. The silver-haired counselor's knuckles whitened around his fork.

"Well," Jimin said, standing abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I should go clean up some of the swimming equipment. Make sure they're all ready for tomorrow."

(Y/n) frowned, watching him leave. "Is everything okay with Jimin?" she asked, turning to the others.

Taehyung waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Oh, I think our Jiminie is just feeling a little... left out." He called after Jimin's retreating form, "Don't forget to bring your teddy bear to the campfire, Jimin-ah!"

Jimin's only response was a half-hearted wave without turning back.

As the meal progressed, the excitement among the campers grew. Younger kids bounced in their seats, their voices rising in pitch and volume. The older campers gave an air of cool nonchalance, but (Y/n) could see the anticipation in their eyes for the afternoon's festivities.

(Y/n)'s gaze drifted across the mess hall, taking in the scenes of summer joy. But in a far corner, she noticed two older campers with their heads close together, whispering intently. The girl – Rose, one of (Y/n)'s drama students – glanced furtively around before leaning in even closer to the boy, Jason.

Frowning slightly, (Y/n) stood up, intending to check on them. But before she could take a step, Jin's voice cut through the chatter.

"Attention, everyone!" he called out, standing at the front of the hall. The room gradually quieted, all eyes turning to the camp director. "As you all know, tonight marks the halfway point of our summer together at Mason's Creek Summer Camp."

A cheer went up from the campers, and Jin smiled, waiting for quiet to return. "Tonight's campfire is special. For the first time this summer, all of our campers, from the youngest to the oldest, will gather together around the fire. It's a chance for us to come together as one camp family, to share stories, songs, and maybe," he glanced at Taehyung with a wry smile, "a scare or two."

More cheers and a few nervous giggles rippled through the crowd.

"So," Jin continued, "in fifteen minutes, we'll all meet at the big fire pit. Counselors, make sure your groups are accounted for and bring extra blankets. It's going to be a chilly night!"

As Jin finished speaking, a flurry of activity erupted in the mess hall. Campers began clearing their plates, chattering excitedly about the night ahead. Counselors moved between tables, organizing their groups and answering a barrage of questions.

(Y/n) felt a hand on her arm and turned to find Jungkook looking at her, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Ready for all these scary stories?" he asked, his voice low and playful.

She felt a flutter in her stomach but managed to roll her eyes, as she pushed her finger against his chest. "Just try not to scream too loud when Taehyung starts his ghost stories, okay?"

Jungkook clutched his chest in mock offense. "Me? Scream? Never! I'll have you know I'm very brave."

"Uh-huh," (Y/n) teased, "Is that why you slept with your flashlight on after last week's zombie story?"

Their laughter mingled with the excited voices around them as they began to herd their group towards the door. As they left the warmth of the mess hall, the cool evening air nipped at their skin, carrying with it the promise of a night filled with mystery.

As the campers began to file out, (Y/n) noticed Rose and Jason lingering behind, still deep in conversation. She made a mental note to keep an eye on them during the campfire.

The path to the fire pit was alive with excitement. Younger campers skipped ahead, their voices carrying through the darkening woods, while the older ones walked with an air of cool nonchalance that didn't quite hide their anticipation.

The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink as (Y/n) and Jungkook led their group of campers down the winding path to the campfire. The excited chatter of the kids filled the air, punctuated by the occasional hoot of an owl or rustle in the underbrush.

As they approached the clearing, the smell of woodsmoke mingled with the earthy scent of the forest. The campfire came into view, a beacon of warmth and light in the gathering dusk. Campers were already spreading blankets on the ground and arranging themselves in a wide circle around the flames.

(Y/n) did a quick headcount of her group, frowning slightly when she realized Rose and Jason were missing. She was about to mention it to Jungkook when Taehyung's group burst into the clearing, their counselor wearing an elaborate headdress made of leaves and twigs.

"Make way for the forest spirits!" Taehyung announced dramatically, earning giggles from the younger campers and eye-rolls from the older ones.

"Tae, you look ridiculous," (Y/n) laughed, momentarily distracted from her concerns.

Taehyung struck a pose. "Ridiculous? I'll have you know this is the height of woodland fashion."

As they helped their campers settle, spreading blankets and passing out s'mores supplies, (Y/n) found herself swept up in the excitement. The sun sank lower, the sky deepening to a rich purple. Soon, the only light came from the roaring campfire, casting flickering shadows that danced at the edge of the woods.

(Y/n) couldn't shake a feeling of unease as she glanced at the dark line of trees surrounding them. In the daylight, the forest was a place of adventure and discovery. But now, with the flames throwing strange shadows and the darkness pressing in, it felt almost menacing. She shivered, pulling her jacket closer.

"Cold?" Jungkook's voice came from beside her, startling her out of her thoughts.

"No, just... the woods seem different at night, don't they?"

Jungkook nodded, his eyes scanning the treeline. "Yeah, it's like they're hiding secrets."

Before (Y/n) could respond, Taehyung cleared his throat loudly. "Gather 'round, campers and counselors alike! It's time for a tale of terror!"

The campers hushed, leaning in eagerly as Taehyung began his story. His voice dropped to a dramatic whisper as he spun a tale of a killer who stalked the woods, preying on unsuspecting campers.

As the story progressed, (Y/n) found her attention wandering. Her eyes drifted over the circle, taking in the reactions of the other counselors. Hoseok was visibly uncomfortable, jumping at every dramatic pause. Yoongi seemed unimpressed, occasionally rolling his eyes at the more outlandish parts of the tale.

Her gaze settled on Jungkook, and she found herself admiring the way the firelight played across his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes as he listened to the story. She quickly looked away when he glanced in her direction, feeling a warmth in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the fire.

It was then that (Y/n) noticed Jimin's absence. She frowned, wondering if he was still upset from dinner. Knowing Jimin, he had probably thrown himself into work, losing track of time. She made a mental note to check on him after the campfire.

As her eyes scanned the group again, she realized Jin was missing too. It seemed odd that the camp director would leave without saying anything, but she reasoned he might have quietly informed Namjoon and slipped away to avoid disrupting the story.

(Y/n)'s gaze drifted back to the woods, the vastness of the darkness beyond the fire's glow drawing her in. As she stared into the gloom, a movement caught her eye. For a moment, she thought she saw a figure among the trees.

Suddenly, Taehyung's voice rose to a shout as he reached the climax of his story. He threw something into the fire, causing it to roar up with a burst of sparks. (Y/n) jumped to her feet, her heart pounding.

Jungkook looked up at her, startled. "Whoa, (Y/n)! Don't tell me Tae's story actually scared you," he teased, but there was a note of concern in his voice.

(Y/n) barely heard him. Her eyes were fixed on the edge of the clearing where a figure had emerged from the woods. "Rose," she whispered, before breaking into a run.

Rose stumbled into the firelight, soaking wet and shivering. (Y/n) reached her just as the girl's legs seemed to give out, catching her and wrapping her in the blanket she'd grabbed from the ground.

"Rose! What happened? Where's Jason?" (Y/n) asked, her voice tight with worry.

Through chattering teeth, Rose explained how Jason had pushed her into the lake as a prank. She'd gotten lost trying to find her way back, wandering the trails in the dark. "J-Jason's still down there," she said, a mix of anger and worry in her voice. "I didn't want to see him after what he did, but... what if something happened to him?"

As (Y/n) comforted Rose, she overheard Namjoon instructing Taehyung and Yoongi to do a quick sweep around the lake. The other counselors began ushering the confused and worried campers back to their cabins.

In the midst of the chaos, Jimin appeared, looking slightly disheveled and... wet? Eden noticed but couldn't dwell on it, focused on getting Rose warm and dry.

"Come on," she said to Rose, guiding her towards the cabins. "Let's get you into some dry clothes."

In (Y/n)'s cabin, she turned up the small heater and helped Rose change into warm, dry clothes. As she helped the girl towel dry her hair, Rose spoke softly.

"I really liked him, you know? Jason. I thought... I thought maybe he liked me too. But then he just pushed me in and laughed." She looked up at (Y/n), her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Is that what love is supposed to be like?"

(Y/n)'s heart ached for the girl. "No, sweetie. That's not love. Someone who cares about you would never purposely put you in danger or make you feel bad."

After making sure Rose was okay, (Y/n) walked her back to her own cabin, her mind whirling with worry about Jason and confusion over the events of the night.

(Y/n)'s mind was still reeling from the events of the night as she made her way back to her cabin. The path, usually so familiar, felt alien in the darkness, every shadow seeming to hide potential dangers. As she approached, she saw a figure sitting on the porch steps, hunched over with elbows resting on knees. Her heart skipped a beat before she recognized Jungkook's silhouette.

"Jungkook?" she called softly, quickening her pace.

He looked up, relief washing over his features as he stood. "(Y/n), thank god. I was getting worried."

As she climbed the steps, (Y/n) could see the tension in his jaw, the worry etched in the lines of his face. "Any news?" she asked, though she could already guess the answer from his expression.

Jungkook shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Nothing. We can't find Jason anywhere. We've done a preliminary search of the lake shore and the nearby trails, but there's no sign of him."

(Y/n) felt her stomach drop. "What about the other counselors? Jin?"

"Jin's still missing too. Namjoon's trying to keep it quiet to avoid panicking the campers, but..." Jungkook trailed off, his eyes meeting (Y/n)'s. The unspoken worry hung heavy between them.

(Y/n) sank down onto the porch step, suddenly feeling exhausted. Jungkook sat beside her, their shoulders touching. The contact was comforting in the face of the night's uncertainties.

"What happens now?" (Y/n) asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook sighed. "Namjoon's organizing a more thorough search. We're going out in pairs to cover more ground. He thinks it's best we stay with our usual partner"

"Pairs?" (Y/n) echoed, a mix of relief and anxiety coursing through her. The thought of searching the dark woods alone was terrifying, but with a partner...

"Yeah," Jungkook nodded. "Safety in numbers, you know? Plus, it's easy to get turned around in the woods at night."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation settling over them. In the distance, they could hear muffled voices - other counselors organizing search parties, no doubt.

"I can't believe this is happening," (Y/n) said, shaking her head. "Just a few hours ago, we were all laughing and telling ghost stories. And now..."

"Hey," Jungkook said softly, bumping his shoulder against hers. "We'll find him. Jason's a smart kid. He probably just got lost and is too embarrassed to call out for help, you know how he is."

(Y/n) wanted to believe him, but the nagging worry in the pit of her stomach wouldn't subside. "But what if it's something worse? What if-"

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Jungkook interrupted gently. "We don't know anything for sure yet."

(Y/n) nodded, trying to take comfort in his words. She looked at Jungkook, really looked at him, and saw the determination in his eyes despite the worry creasing his brow. It made her feel a little braver.

A ghost of a smile flickered across Jungkook's face. "Ready to head out?"

(Y/n) took a deep breath, steeling herself. "As ready as I'll ever be. Where are we searching?"

"Namjoon wants us to take the trail by the creek," Jungkook explained as they set off, flashlights in hand. "The one that leads down to the lake.The other are covering different areas."

They walked in silence for a moment, the sounds of the camp fading behind them. The beam of their flashlights cut through the darkness, creating eerie, shifting shadows among the trees. (Y/n) found herself drawing closer to Jungkook, the warmth of his presence a comfort against the chill of the night.

"It's so different out here," (Y/n) murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn't shake the feeling that speaking too loudly might disturb something better left undisturbed.

Jungkook nodded, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. "Yeah, it's like the whole forest changes after dark. Everything familiar becomes... strange."

They continued down the path, the crunch of leaves and twigs under their feet seeming unnaturally loud in the quiet of the night. The distant gurgle of the creek grew louder as they approached, the water a ribbon of silver in the moonlight.

"You okay?" Jungkook asked softly, noticing (Y/n)'s unease.

(Y/n) hesitated before answering. "Just... a little scared, I guess. I keep thinking about Jason out here alone. And Jin... where could he have gone?"

Jungkook's arm slipped around her shoulders, a comforting weight. "Hey, it's okay to be scared. I am too. But we're together, and we've got this, alright? We'll find them."

His warmth and steady presence helped ease some of (Y/n)'s fear, but she couldn't shake the nagging worry in the pit of her stomach. "Do you think..." she started, then paused, unsure if she wanted to voice her fears.

"What?" Jungkook prompted gently.

"Do you think something bad might have happened to Jason?" she finally asked, the words hanging heavily in the air between them. "I mean, Rose was so upset, and for Jin to disappear too..."

Jungkook was quiet for a moment before responding. "I don't know," he admitted. "But let's not assume the worst just yet. Jason could just be lost and scared, like Rose was. And Jin... well, he's probably out looking too, he probably realised the two of them were gone and went to find them."

(Y/n) nodded, trying to take comfort in his words. "You're right. I'm probably just letting Taehyung's ghost stories get to me."

Jungkook chuckled softly. "Those stories would make anyone jumpy. Remember the first week when he told that one about the vengeful spirit in the lake? I swear, half the campers refused to go near the lake for a week."

The memory brought a smile to (Y/n)'s face, easing some of the tension. They continued their search, calling out Jason's name every few minutes, their voices echoing strangely in the still night air.

As they neared the lake, the trees thinned out, revealing a stretch of a sandyshore. The water was a black mirror, reflecting the starry sky above. In daylight, this was a place of laughter and splashing. Now, it seemed vast and unknowable.

"Should we head back?" Jungkook asked, his voice low. "We've covered a lot of ground."

(Y/n) was about to agree when something caught her eye. A flash of white against the dark rocks at the water's edge. "Wait," she said, pointing. "What's that?"

They moved closer, their flashlights focused on the spot. As they approached, (Y/n)'s breath caught in her throat. Snagged on a jagged rock, fluttering slightly in the night breeze, was a piece of fabric. Even in the dim light, she could see the dark stains marring its surface.

"Is that..." Jungkook started, his voice trailing off.

(Y/n) nodded, a chill running down her spine. "It's a torn shirt. And that's... that's blood."

They stood frozen, the implications of their discovery sinking in. The peaceful night sounds of the forest seemed to fade away, leaving only the pounding of (Y/n)'s heart in her ears.

Jungkook's arm tightened around her. "We need to tell Namjoon. Now."

Taglist: @jungkooknippleanddicksucker

[aquatint-101]

Forever Girl

The sky is painted in shades of bright pink over a brilliant cobalt blue. Saffron and lemon yellow explode near the horizon, lining the wispy clouds that hover over the water in halos of gold. The sun dips lower and lower across its arc in the sky, its light spilling into the ocean like blood from an open wound.

Aang is staring contemplatively at the waves, his grey eyes stealing some of that brightness until they glow like full moons at dusk. His dark circles don't seem as pronounced now, and he stands proud and tall despite his obvious exhaustion. His dark hair dances in the wind, gently tousled by the cool night air.

"Staying up all night has given me some time to think," Aang says sagely. "And I've realized some big things."

Katara holds back a gasp when she sees that his eyes are shining as though lit from within. "What big things?" she asks, tentative.

Aang stares solemnly at the choppy waves that are stealing the sun's gold, at the glittering spiderwebs of sunlight that are stretching out beneath the foamy water. "I see everything so clearly now," he says, "what really matters. Why I'm really doing this."

He turns to look at her, his chin tilting up so that their eyes meet, and she gets lost in a deep, deep sea of silver. She's never quite seen that color on anybody else, and it looks oddly beautiful against his warm ivory skin.

"I'm doing it to save the world," Aang whispers, voice low and heavy, "but it's more than that.  I'm doing it for the people I love." He steps closer to her and takes her hands in his. "I'm doing it for you, Katara."

Katara's heart catches in her throat, and she takes a moment to trace her thumbs over the arrows on his hands. They're precisely the same shade of blue as the sky, as if the atmosphere has breathed a trail across Aang's skin, a trail she can trace with her eyes, that winds over his smooth biceps and sloped shoulders before curving over his neck and head.

"Aang, what are you saying?" she blurts.

"I'm saying," Aang replies, calm and confident, "I love you."

And then, he leans in. It's sudden, like getting caught up in a hurricane, and Katara feels a little shocked at first but it's the good kind of shock. She winds her arms around his shoulders and pulls him close, and it idly occurs to her that she's never kissed anyone like this before in her entire life. When they finally part, it's too much and too little, all at the same time.

"What are we doing?" Katara can't help but ask, utterly breathless.

Aang lifts his hands to cup her face, tracing his thumbs over the apples of her cheeks. "What our hearts have been telling us to do for a long time."

Katara leans in to kiss him again, but Aang's hands settle around her waist instead, and all her words dry up in her mouth at the feel of his fingers against her midriff.

"Baby," he dips her into a bow, leaving her dizzy and breathless all over again, "you're my forever girl."

Her heart hammers in her chest as he leans in again, and she eagerly tilts her head up to meet his lips with hers, and-

-x-

Katara wakes up with a start, and her heart is still racing at breakneck speed. She can hear its steady thump loudly in her ears no matter which way she turns. Katara stares up at the night sky and remembers that she's been asleep for some time now.

What was that?

"I need more sleep," Katara groans.

Aang is cuddled into her side, and Katara is hyperaware of his arms winding around her waist and her cheek tucked firmly against his shoulder. He quietly mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep before nuzzling against her with a pleasant smile on his face. Her cheeks heat up so fast she almost feels dizzy, but she can't bring herself to move away.

Katara lets out a harsh sigh and closes her eyes and lets herself fall asleep to the sound of Aang's steady breathing. She can sort this mess out tomorrow.

[fumikomiyasaki]

Glorious Masquerade Kumo

Voice lines under the cut:

Groovy: "Don't bother with me, I am just watching the festivities... A Dance? I guess I can oblige this time."

Set Home: "I rather stare at the stars from the outside."

Home Idle 1: "They had some pretty colors in the town square I could use for some paintings... likely after this Masquerade is over."

Home Idle 2: "Jamil asked me to come with to this place... I wasn't that stoked about it but... there is some things that were reason enough to join him."

Home Idle 3: "I can't stand the stare of this white haired Noble Bell student ... I sense malice from him... If worse comes to worse... no I should not cause a commotion infront of the others."

Home Login: "I usually prefer lighter clothing... this is all a bit too uncomfortable... even if I could adjust it a little. At least I don't have to wear this the whole time."

Home Idle Groovy: "This school is far away from the Freedom I seek... I wonder what Taiyo and Tsuki would say... it seems familiar... this oppressive air."

Home Tap 1: "I had the luck to have a dance with Melanie before anyone else of the line could. I wish I could have danced longer with her. *sigh* Among this crowd I have a lot to be better than to convince her. Maybe one day I will tell her-... don't mind what I said..."

Home Tap 2: "It was... quite hard to adapt to Farahs energy during the dance but somewhat... it brought a smile to my face... I should thank her for helping me with my next inspiration."

Home Tap 3: "There was this book charm, Miriam asked me to get it when I am here... today people just dragged me around so I wasn't able to. I hope this party doesn't distract me from it."

Home Tap 4: "I noticed Silver wasn't really keeping up with everything here... I lend him my shoulder to take a nap. He really needs to watch out for himself more... if not I will."

Home Tap 5: "Jamil said under the mask you can hide your emotions better and can pretend to be someone else... but that doesn't change that I still don't like some of these crowds here..."

Home Tap Groovy: "At least the stars are beautifull no matter where I go... don't you see how bright the moon shines... why would I dance when I can take a break and see this view."

Mentions of Characters: Melanie @twsted-princess , Farah @cynthinesia , Miriam @sakuramidnight15

[usiel21]

Tomorrow is a long time - When Wednesday realises she's in love with Enid.

The moment Wednesday realises she is in love with her best friend isn't a remarkable one nor a dramatic one, but in the silence of their dorm, save for the radio that Enid had left on earlier that morning before leaving for breakfast. Wednesday having politely declined, But Enid, undeterred promised to bring her something back.

It was a Saturday and contrary to the wolf's kpop obsessed mind liked to listen to a station that broadcasted vintage and classic songs on a Saturday morn, in her haste she had left the radio on, but Wednesday didn't mind as these songs were of a quieter, softer nature.

But delicate guitar strings reach her trained ears and something about it compels her to listen.

Then lonesome would mean nothing to you at all Yes and only if my own true love was waitin' And if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin' Yes, only if she was lyin' by me Then I'd lie in my bed once again

She stiffens, her knuckles going white as she closes her fingers into fists in front of the typewriter, her body going still at the soft words, sung softly. She doesn't know why but she feels her body yearn and her heart speed up.

I can't see my reflection in the waters I can't speak the sounds that show no pain I can't hear the echo of my footsteps

She can't move, she can't breathe, she can't blink. Her heart is pounding with a irrevocable and undeniable truth. She can feel it singing to her in her blood.

She can feel it in every movement of her body now, in every breathe she now finds she is able to take. Every blink unable to shield her eyes from the truth any longer.

There's beauty in the silver, singin' river There's beauty in the sunrise in the sky But none of these and nothing else can touch the beauty That I remember in my true love's eyes

Tears run silently down her cheeks.

Her heart still beating with reckless abandon because it beats for two now. Maybe it has done for a long time now.

Her fingers unfurl and shake with a sadness and longing that is bother wonderous and torturous all in one.

Her breath hitches in her throat as she takes in a shuddering breath, the tears having run their course down her face, becoming streaks that held their own truth for the world to see laid bare before it.

Because there, at 9:32am, on a Saturday morn, during a crisp but bright Autumn morn, in Ophelia Hall, Wednesday had learned the truth of her own affliction.

For her love of Enid Sinclair.

Enid, her roomate.

Enid, her best friend.

Enid, her saviour.

Enid, who carried the scars of her victory everyday.

Enid, who's love and respect had shone through the darkest of voids.

Enid, who had traversed the darkest of voids, Wednesday's Heart, to selfishly light a candle in the centre.

Enid, who set her heart aflame with a single, simple, small flame.

Enid, who she was in love with completely.

Enid, who stole her heart and now wouldn't give it back.

Enid, who didn't even know she had committed such a heinous crime.

Enid, who came back with a quad over ice at 9:35am to see Wednesday sat on dividing line between their sides of the room, by the window, knee's drawn up to her chest.

Enid, who instantly forgot everything else and dove forward to check on the Raven, her hands soft and warm, her brow creased in concern.

For Wednesday, who once had been blind, was now seeing Enid truly for the first time, every look, every glance a selfish and desperate attempt to savour and memorize every movement of her body, every word she spoke, every shine of her eyes.

And when Wednesday passed away sixty years gone, Enid's hand in her own as she took her last, the words from all those years ago, the words from a single, simple song echoed in her mind, as Wife and Wife spent their last precious moments together before she left for the world's beyond.

But none of these and nothing else can touch the beauty That I remember in my true love's eyes

It was wonderous.

Wonderous to be in love with Enid Sinclair.

Enid Addams.

Enid, who passed away a mere day later from a broken heart, to chase her beloved into the world's beyond. Souls never wishing to be apart again, for whatever remained in the age of starlight.

If today was not a crooked highway If tonight was not a crooked trail If tomorrow wasn't such a long time Then lonesome would mean nothing to you at all

[stardust-swan]

I have this beautiful winter coat that's ballet slipper pink, with flower shaped rhinestone buttons and delicate silver lining on the lapels and sleeve cuffs. My swan brooch looks really good on it and just thinking about it makes me want to do the following:

Go to the lake and watch the swans glide by

Go to theatre to watch Swan Lake

Go to a French patisserie and enjoy a milfeuille and vanilla oat latte while reading a gilded edition of Hans Christian Andersen's fairytales

Go ice-skating arm in arm with someone special

Light Yankee's Rainbow Cookie candle, make a mug of creamy hot chocolate with mini marshmallows, and marathon Anastasia, The Swan Princess, and classic Disney princess movies

So as you can imagine, it's very hard to throw out. I've realised that it's just not my colour (too cool + light), and while I had no problems purging everything else that doesn't suit me, I just can't bring myself to get rid of this coat.

The workarounds I'm thinking of are coral lipstick and blush + gold highlighter, a bright pink, turquoise or coral dress underneath, a plaid or tartan scarf in bright colours, maybe a turtleneck in a warm colour (I'm not big on turtlenecks though).

I'm open to ideas on how to style a cool pastel pink coat for someone who suits shades of pink like coral, salmon, Barbie pink and rosewood.

[bluecatwriter]

Hmmm, Director's Cut on Butcher-work?

Thanks so much for the ask! I have a lot of Feelings about this one. :)

(The fic in question.)

CW for description of blood/injury below:

-This fic was directly inspired by Re: Dracula, because the scene with Van Helsing staking the Weird Sisters was just. so horrifying. I loved the way that Alan Burgon voiced the part, as well as the sound design that emphasized just how gruesome it was. This is no triumphant killing; we believe Van Helsing when he says, "Oh, my friend John, but it was butcher-work." I listened to it, and had to take a break afterward, and my first thought was, "Oh man, he is gonna have some trauma about this," and this fic was born.

-As long as I was having Van Helsing deal with trauma, I figured that he should also have some deep lingering regrets about how he handled Lucy's situation. Although he doesn't admit to doing wrong, I think it's noteworthy that he treats Mina very differently than he does Lucy— there is no yeeting Jonathan away from Mina's side, for instance— which indicates to me that his attitude toward vampires changed as he gained more knowledge, and it just made sense that he would second-guess how he acted when he was first trying to aggregate all his fragments of knowledge about vampires.

-A dream sequence seemed the best way to explore his doubts and trauma in a vivid way, so I settled on the most dramatic setting possible. I was a bit inspired by fairerforafleck's excellent fic "There is Some Fascination," although their setting is even cooler than mine!

-The image of Lucy looking up at him innocently while he brushes aside her hair to place the stake over her heart was one of the earliest moments I thought of when brainstorming. I made myself very sad thinking about it. :(

-"She screamed. Blood hit him like the slap of an ocean wave, salty and bright, and in an instant blood welled up from the floor and rose, knocking him off his feet. He fell into the rising tide, drowning as he felt his own body flying apart, limbs rent from their sockets, chest cracking open, entrails spilling out. Blood in his throat, his guts, his eyes, blood dissolving the cells of his body like acid, blood so thick it was impossible to tell where sensation ended and the scream began." I figure that if you're gonna go with the nightmare imagery, you might as well go hard. When I write a paragraph like this, I draft it with the weirdest, most intense imagery I can think of, throwing together associations even if they don't make sense, and in a later draft I sort through them and pick out the ones that I like the most. Oftentimes phrases that seem nonsensical at first glance end up being the most evocative. (I am very much a "throw everything at the wall and see what sticks" writer.)

-Even though Jack/Van Helsing isn't the point of the fic, I knew that I wanted someone to be there for him when he woke up; I think there's nothing worse than waking up alone from a nightmare. So I put Jack in there; he can't fix anything or bring any closure, but he's still there, and that still counts for something.

-"Art gets these dreams too, John told him once. Perhaps it is just the price to pay for rescuing a soul in such a manner." Someday I am gonna write a Van Helsing & Arthur fic where they either bond or clash (not sure which) over the shared experience of staking a vampire. Meanwhile Jack is holding fast to his conviction that Van Helsing made the right decision, because he can't emotionally handle it if VH is wrong.

-In the end, Jack asks if there is not any peace for Van Helsing to find, and he answers, "There is not." I wanted to capture the feeling of being caught in a trauma that feels like it will never end; there is no way to find peace in the foreseeable future, and the trauma can only be borne in the meantime. Usually when I write hurt I write comfort to go along with it, but I left the ending a bit raw and unfinished.

-The last two lines are, "Moonlight bathing them in silver. His chest aching with tears he could not shed." I liked the play of visual and tactile detail and the unfinished feeling of it all, emphasized by the sentence fragments.

Thanks again for the ask, I really enjoyed picking this apart!

(Ask game here)

[topnotchquark]

Okay I wrote more Pecco/Luca. It started off with me just wanting to write a hazy dream but then I bit off too much and also ended up writing smut. I need to publish or I will go crazy so here is ~1700 words. Enjoy!

Luca can see the chequed flag just ahead of him. Adrenaline is coursing through him hard, he can nearly taste it's bitter metallic flavor in the back of his throat. He's finishing this one on the podium, his joy almost feels like an animalistic aggression. God, there is nothing quite like the taste of victory, won after so much dedication and precision, won through caring about everything more than anything. Knowing when to brake, knowing what racing line to take, knowing exactly at what point the front of his bike will give away at the sharp left hander on turn 6, knowing what mistakes which opponent will make under pressure has been the kind of mental balancing act that Luca needed to pull off to squeeze this podium. He feels light headed with joy.

Qatar is hot despite this being a night race. Humidity hangs in the air somehow. Luca's feet feel like they are burning up. He wants to take off his skin along with his leathers and just, cool down. He gets the bike to parc fermé and runs into the arms of his team. They shower him with love and firm pats on his back and chants of "Grande Maro". He pours some water over his head and goes in for hugs and feels the adrenaline wearing off. He's suddenly filled with the sensation of bone deep tiredness but all this suffering is acceptable after the sheer triumph of today. Pecco and Diggia will be on the podium with him. Diggia pulling out a triumphant win and Pecco in P3. Towards the last 4 laps of the race Luca was just so aware of Pecco. He knew just the racing line Pecco would take at turn 9 and used that knowledge to his advantage. It's not fair to use years of familiarity like this but, Pecco would understand, you have to give it everything you have.

They make their way to the cooldown room and Luca feels the neon LED lights are simply too bright. He grabs a bottle of water and strangely enough, can't find the grip strength to unscrew the cap. He feels Pecco place a hand on his shoulder. Luca looks up, Pecco is mouthing some words but they feel like they are coming from very far away. Pecco's face is so bright, almost blending into the white walls of the room.

Luca opens his eyes and he's lying on soft warm grass. On his right many steel obelisks rise from the ground, sharp and shiny, beautiful and menacing. The sky above him is an inky maroon color with bright orange moving through it like wave. The ground is pulsating with a soft rhythmic thrum. He turns to his right and a small turtle looks at him, It's shell decorated with jewels.

"....and that was the last time I attempted to cook anything" Pecco's calm voice tells him.

Luca looks up, and Pecco is sitting at Luca side with his knees to his chest. Pecco's using his fingers to gently graze Luca's ribs.

"You somehow can't grasp that cooking is a process. You want to be perfect at it. It's like building blocks." Luca responds. Luca feels like he's so right. Cooking is like building blocks. Pecco knows nothing about building blocks.

"You can't eat building blocks, everyone knows that" Pecco responds. Luca can detect some hurt in his voice.

"You're right, you can't. But you can eat turtles right? Have you ever wanted to eat a turtle?"

"Depends. What kind of turtle?"

"This one?" Luca points to his right to show Pecco the turtle he had seen earlier.

Pecco straddles Luca's hips to get a better look at the turtle. Pecco's face is close to Luca's. He lets his eyes slowly wander over the smooth expanse of Pecco's chest.

Suddenly Luca feels something warm falling on his face. Pecco is weeping, liquid silver is running down his face and falling onto Luca's face in little droplets. Pecco looks so beautiful Luca wants to reach up and touch his cheek, wipe the silvery tears away, inspect the taut skin over his ribs.

Luca opens his eyes and immediately gets more water splashed on his face by a worried looking guy.

"Oh thank god" Luca hears a voice say.

It takes him a moment to collect his bearings. The unfamiliar ceiling belongs to the cooldown room, the lights are emitting a low noise that is irritating him. Pecco is standing at his side, a little like the weird dream he had just now.

"Maro, can you hear me" Pecco asks very gently.

"Yes.... Yes"

"Okay can you focus here and tell me how many fingers I'm holding up" the medic implores.

"Three. I'm fine, I just wanted to close my eyes"

"You collapsed" the medic emphasizes with some worry in his voice.

"How long was I out? We have to get to the podium. Just give me five I'll be up"

"Only about 5 minutes. Relax, the podium is delayed for a bit. You need to collect yourself" Pecco tells him in a steady, calm voice.

Luca emerges from the shower and lies down on the hotel bed after pulling on some shorts. Ultimately he refused to get a drip going and went and acted fine and happy and exuberant on the podium and then let his team and his medics fuss over him. They pushed various electrolyte balancing fluids in his hand and prodded and tested him. Ultimately they found nothing life threatening and told him to sleep it off before his flight the next day.

He's about to flip through something on the tv when he hears a knock on the door. Pecco dressed in night clothes comes in and sits down right on his bed and puts his feet up.

"How are you feeling now?"

"Good. Not that big of a deal"

"You crumpled like a rag doll in front of me"

Luca hears an edge in Pecco's voice. He wordlessly fluffs his pillow and lies down.

He's on his side looking up at Pecco. His hair curls around his ears. Luca can't stop his eyes from following the long column of his neck. He thinks about the Pecco in his dream that hasn't left his mind for a moment since he regained conciousness.

Pecco surveys him for a moment and slides down as well.

"I asked them to cut the camera feed from the cooldown room, I didn't think you'd prefer being seen like that."

"Thank you, I hadn't even thought of it till now, but thanks, it means a lot"

There is a beat of silence and Luca reaches out to take Pecco's hand that's just there on the bed. The shape of his long fingers. Luca remembered the make of Pecco's fingers so vividly even in his dream.

Pecco is looking at Luca with a warm steady gaze.

"You scared me for a moment there"

Luca meets Pecco's brown soft eyes and it suddenly feels so overwhelming. Pecco from his stupid dream, blinking tears onto his face, Pecco from this world, standing next to him when he came to his senses, Pecco here, right now, next to him, telling him he was afraid for a moment.

Luca swallows and before he can allow himself time to evaluate the pros and cons of his move, he closes the gap and kisses him.

Pecco offers no resistance and meets him with his mouth open, placing a gentle hand on Luca cheek and softly kissing him back. He tastes vaguely of toothpaste, Luca thinks as he lets the sensation of kissing wash over his exhausted body. He feels a little insane doing this, mostly because it feels so right that he can't imagine stopping. Pecco gets on top of him, taking a moment away from him to kiss his neck, his jaw, bite his earlobe, lick the skin on his collarbone. Pecco's small mouth intent on exploring as much of Luca as it can. They break away for a moment in which Pecco gets his t-shirt off. Luca touches his smooth back, his hands feeling the stiff column of Pecco's spine. He can feel Pecco's soft hand reaching down to his shorts, gently cupping his hard bulge. Luca feels animalistic. Desire courses through him with such overwhelming dominance he can't think straight.

Pecco's hand in his shorts stroking him slowly nearly makes him black out a second time within the space of hours. He pushes his own shorts off with an urgency and cups Pecco's small pert ass and pulls him closer, suddenly overcome by a desire to bite at the column of his neck.

When Luca let's his teeth get a bit aggressive a small whimper escapes Pecco's mouth that drives him closer to the edge. He rises up to hump into Pecco's hand, pulling him so close that they could fuse into one.

Pecco breaks away from Luca's arms and positions himself between his legs.

Before Luca can have a moment to catch his breath he feels Pecco's mouth on the head of his dick. His soft warm mouth. Luca can't help the loud groan that escapes him. He's shocked by the response of his own body. To feel this good while completely out of control is strangely euphoric. He has his hands in Pecco's hair as Pecco does his best to accomodate all of Luca's length. When Pecco makes a loud choking noise but doesn't stop what he's doing, it takes everything for Luca to not dig his fingers into Pecco's head and fuck his mouth. Pecco has his own hand between his legs, stroking himself, his moans vibrating against Luca's dick in his throat.

When Pecco pulls back to steadily suckle on the head of Luca's dick, swirling his to tongue around the tip, Luca's can't hold back anymore and spills into Pecco's mouth. Pecco swallows as he jerks himself to orgasm, his grip on Luca's thigh vice like.

While Pecco catches his breath Luca pulls him back up and wipes his messy mouth, when he leans in to kiss him again he feels a funny little jolt in the pit of his stomach. The knowledge that Pecco's beautiful small mouth was on his cock and swallowed his cum making him feel crazy.

When Pecco makes a move to leave after a little while of kissing and petting, Luca's only response is "No. No, stay."

[hsslilly-blog]

i have never touched HSS or Hollywood U but I'm so 🌟obsessed🌟 with Claire whenever she shows up on my dash so here's some random questions!!

Who was her celebrity idol growing up? I'm assuming it's Gloria Swanson? But I haven't read enough about your MCs backstory to be sure imo

Does she have a favorite drink she always orders?

What's her life motto?

Does she have her own clothing line?

What would she tell her younger self?

hello!! this is really sweet and it makes me really happy to read! <3 thank you!

Who was her celebrity idol growing up? i don't think i've ever shared her idols growing up. gloria swanson was a huge influence for sure (and what inspired her to pursue a film career), but i don't think she was one of claire's biggest idols. claire looked up a lot to grace kelly and her very classy filmography (and style and public persona and everything else), and she was a huge audrey hepburn fan -- she had an audrey fanclub in middle school. as for more contemporary actresses, claire was very inspired by nicole kidman!

Does she have a favorite drink she always orders? claire always orders a cosmopolitan. she really likes the pink colour and how it's a little sour lol.

What's her life motto? stars can't shine without darkness! good things and bad things happen in your life, and you can't let yourself be held down by tough times -- as difficult as it may be. i think claire likes to remain positive so she tries to see the good side of everything that happens to her. it's not easy but she tries really hard to always see a silver lining... which can be really unhealthy sometimes.

Does she have her own clothing line? this is not something i had considered before, but i do think it's a possibility, especially how fashion is an important part of claire's character (in-universe and out of it; it's something i give a lot of thought to). i really like the idea! if claire had a clothing line, i think it'd focus on mixing classic styles with more contemporary fashion trends. maybe chanel in the '90s is a great example... you can see a lot of influence from the 1960s, but it's still a very modern style. i just knowww that whatever she decided on doing, it'd have a lot of sweetheart/halter necklines. and bright colours as well!

What would she tell her younger self? i think claire would tell herself that, eventually, things are going to fall into place. there was a point in her life where she truly believed she'd never be able to pursue a career in fim/follow her dreams, but she didn't give up hope and everything worked out in her favour in the end. there was a lot of hard work involved, of course, but she'd tell herself that just because it feels like it's the end of the road it doesn't mean she can't carve another path for herself.

once again, thank you very much!!

[botan-kiri]

iniki snipbits ive done

yea yea i know tumblr knows nothing on this character i made who i adore but i'm gunna post some writing ive done for him here! (and maybe some co-written works once i ask if i can)

The Walk

Iniki was traveling alone, walking the path in the wood. He was alone with his thoughts, he didn’t like this normally due to the overwhelming fear and anxiety plaguing his thoughts. . . But this time was different. He had a calm mind, thinking of what he should make for food when he stops to rest. His tongue messes with the back of his snake bite piercings, just watching the birds. Iniki’s mind fell into the past reminiscing about bird watching on walks with his father, sometimes he still feels like he is still there walking with him. The silver haired tiefling sighed “I miss you dad, sorry I haven’t been able to give you something for the past month.” looking up at the sky. It was almost noon with a bright blue sky with the occasional fluffy cloud that looked painted in.

The more Iniki kept walking the more the view looked like a colorful painting. His world view shifts from time to time, ever since that time with rose and that big house in the woods. The short painted brush strokes to the vibrant colors,it used to overwhelm him when it first started happening, but now, not as much. Iniki has taken a fondness when his vision does this to him. 

Iniki takes a big stretch as he walks and takes a deep breath, he continues further onto his path. Thrill to Run

Badum, badum, badum, badum, badum, his heart thumped harder. Badump, badump, badump, BADUMP. His feet taking him farther and farther. Till he tripped, not looking where he was going, all he knew was that he had to RUN.

The tifling got up and started to run, soon he ran faster than he did before. Everything was a blur, when Iniki found himself in a clearing he just fell and passed out.

The young demi-god dreamt of a happier time with his father in the little cabin in the woods. Small pitter patter of footsteps and giggling of a small child playing tag with his father, the older man picked up his son and laughed when he woke up. Iniki woke up to a pool of tears running down his face, he got up, took a deep breath, and started running once more, to get as far as possible.

Iniki used to love running, the wind blowing through his hair and horns, the way his tail moved with the wind, the adrenaline it gave him. Now, he only runs if needed, when he is scared, when his life's on the line.

Iniki's Diary (this one is a work in progress)

0/00/0000 For a long time I was alone, even back with Tree and that STUPID fucking cult! . . . Back on topic, I’ve traveled with quite a few people, some good, somewhere dicks. But that didn’t stop me from surviving, I had to live, one to spite my mother, and two, to keep my promise to my dad.

He was a bit eccentric and dramatic, but I wish I knew him a bit better. Is he proud? Angry? Pity me? I have no clue, but I don’t want to know for a long time. Because spite runs in my blood and I will say FUCK YOU to all those who want to kill me.

0/00/0000

It’s strange to think I was a joyful and bubbly kid, like I used to laugh SO much, now not so much. . .  except at h̶u̶n̶d̶ jorts when he does something stupid. I miss laughing so carefree, I can't really anymore. Laughing is heavy and hurts. I want it to go away, But that voice in the back of my head SCREAMS at me that I don’t deserve that weight lifted.

p̴̡̡̹̗̠̦͔̙͈̟̙̪̹͚͓̣̓͗̅̌̄͊͜͝l̷̳͎̱̘̼͎̱̟͓͗̓̐̿̾̆̈̋̿̽̓̈́̆̿͒̆͐̀̕̕̚ḛ̷̙̖̃̊̊̀̊̈́͂̆͛̈̏̋͑͆̈̆͑͠͠͝a̶̛͉̙̯̪̳̳͚̰̳̥̾̅͗͋̋͑͆̂̔̂̄͑͠s̵̜͈̺̣̩̗̥̥̱͈̟̞͖͓̼̼͓̊͆ͅě̷̢̡͖̲͕̪̞͖̰͚̻̪͎̝̀͋̔͗̋͛̍͗̆̀͂̽̈̕̕͜͝͝ ̸̢̨̼̬̰̬̩̠̼̤͇̼̜̮̰͕͚̠̗͌̆͝͠ş̴̨̱͓̗̗̲̺̼͉̫͕͔̙̂̌͝t̴̨̢̗̼̖͚̯̤̟͍̜͍̬̟̟̖͑̑̍̈́͑̍̕̚͝o̸̦͉̼̩̠̺̠͚̊̒̿̿͋͋͛͒̔̐̍́̒͗̓̕̚̕̚͠p̸̩̬̲̺̹̤̺̝̬̻͍̜̟̝̙̈́̓͊̂̃͒͘̚̕͝ ̷̧̖͚͉̙͍̪̬͙̫̱̖̰͆̀̇̏̓́͊͌̏́͂͂y̵̨̧̨̨̛̲̖̯̠̯̝̦̻̳̤͙̞̮̺͓̹̑͗̆͠͝e̵̡͕͑̾̃̽̈́̿͆̾͆̀̔͠l̷̢̧̠̱̳͎̦̹̘͙̯̪̱̼̃̈́͛̄͂̏͋̐͗̂̈́̄̅̂̈́͂͠͝͠͝͝ĺ̶̨̛̻̙̲̫͔͈̃͛̈̓̓͐̿̄̽̚̕̚̚͝ͅị̴̧̛̟̟̻͛̀̈́̾͗̓̀̓̀͑̓̾n̴̡̖̹̭̪̤̫̈́͋͊̂̽̈̈̑̃ͅg̸̨̗̰̣͉̯̲̰͖͚͉̘͓̏̉̓̈̌͑̓ͅ                Ţ̶͚̹̲̼̱͍̯̄͛͊̑O̷̢͔̖̤̹͉͎̝̯̯̭̞͑͊͠͝͝ͅǪ̸̢̢̩͖̘̥͓̬͈͈̻̟͙̥̘̝͖͙͍̌́̓͂ͅ ̷̨̱̯͇̮͒̈͒̊̉̿̆̎͑̾��͋̆̓ͅL̵̡̛̮̳̬͇͔̠̹͍̫̮̜̊́̅̈͗̄̎͌̎͂͌͘̚͜͝͠͠ͅÒ̸̖̥̮̹̝͙̳̳̜̳̲͔̰̯̥̒̿̾̀̐̀́U̷̢̻̗͛̾́̽̀̔̎̀̈́́̈́̂̚Ḏ̴̡̢̡̨̞̣̭͙̗̹͋͋̃̓͛̃̈̿̽̎͝

0/00/0000

I hate getting cut. . . i HATE seeing that silver blood. Sometimes I just want to let it all bleed out and hope it will turn red, but my then i would have died from blood loss, AND I’M NOT DYING

----

I AM TRYING TO WORK ON ANOTHER SO KEEP AN EYE OUT

@charkyzombicorn yo do you want to add yours and is it ok if i post campfire?

[kazuchuu]

Shattered Glass Knock Out Headcanons

These are my personal interpretations of how Knock Out would be in the alternative Transformers universe. I’ve seen a lot of interpretations of him and I’ve also thought about it a lot, so here is an extremely self-indulgent list of purely Transformers brainrot. I just had to put this somewhere before he took over my brain.

APPEARANCE

A blue-green paint coat (the color of hospital scrubs) as the primary color. White markings, or maybe silver for a little contrast.

Bright blue optics.

The elf ears stay.

PERSONALITY

A lot of headcanons portray him as callous when it comes to his appearance, which is great! But allow me to offer: SG!Knock Out who still cares about how he looks, but for completely different reasons.

He doesn't mind being covered in scratches, marks, dents, or the like. He only hates it because it's unhygienic and thus unsuitable for a doctor's office/surgical ward.

He also thinks having a clean appearance gives off a more professional and comforting impression to his patients.

Sometimes, on bad days, it can get a bit...obsessive.

"Um, doc, didn't you already clean-" / "I HAVE TO MAKE SURE BREAKDOWN I HAVE TO MAKE SURE!!!!"

Sometimes it's funny.

"My liege, you know how I respect you, but I swear if you set a pede into this ward without disinfecting your servos at least-"

RELATIONSHIPS

Breakdown: His partner and most trusted confidante in every universe<3 Knock Out tends to worry too much about his health, and insists on a check-up after every battle. Breakdown indulges him, but also makes sure to soothe his worries.

Starscream: My idea of SG!Starscream is that he always downplays how bad his injuries actually are, leading to Knock Out running after him (or, better yet, sending Breakdown to drag him to the medical ward). I like to think they exchange the same playful quips, but with a more somber undertone, because anytime Starscream actually allows himself to stay put in the medical ward means he's been severely injured.

Megatron: Knock Out takes his duty as the leader's official physician way too seriously. He has everything organized: Megatron's daily routine, optimal energon intake, regular check-up appointments. Megatron doesn't really need all that, but he humors him because he knows this is Knock Out's way of dealing with the guilt when he can't save a patient.

OTHER DETAILS

Speaking of guilt - Knock Out is really bad at not blaming himself. When vehicons are offlined and he's forced to disassemble them, he will later still remember where each piece came from, even if it's been attached to another bot.

I like to think this version of KO still likes the art of disassembly, but less out of a delighted, morbid curiosity and more out of a desire to learn more about Cybertronian anatomy.

He still street races with humans, but again, for entirely different reasons: he's fascinated by them, and has since picked up an e-book on human anatomy. And when he street races them, he always plays fair, and takes quite a great offense if another participant doesn't follow the rules. Allow me to demonstrate.

Racer: [keys Knock Out's side door]

KO, swerving to face him: Excuse me, are you out of your mind? Why would you ever ruin the joy of a good race with this childish behavior? And I have patients, you know! What would they think of their own doctor if they saw him in such unseemly fashion?

Racer: Wh-

KO, full on ranting: And I barely squeezed this race in between my busy schedule! Now I have to go back to base, disinfect the scratch, get buffed, all in time to prepare my office for the next line of patients! Do you have any idea how demanding it is to be a doctor on a warship? Always on call! I had this one hour to myself-

[It is at this point that Breakdown shows up to calm his favorite doctor. They end up just racing together<3 ]

And that's basically all I can think of, for now. My version of SG!KO because I know I'll never write this. Feel free to add more in the tags or whatever you like :)

[superblysubpar]

Creatures Of The Night

You'd seen him around a few times since moving to the strange little town. He'd usually have a group of kids trailing behind him in various states of attitudes and he'd be snapping his fingers, pointing, or freezing with his hands on his hips to face one. When he wasn't with them, he was always with a girl his age, both in bright green vests and telling you about their new arrivals. While you perused the aisles there was popcorn tossing and catching with mouths and red vine sword fights and a laughter that made something inside your chest ache. He was always dressed nicely, smiling politely, and maybe it was wishful thinking when you noticed his cheeks turned a little pink when you complimented his movie suggestions to another customer last week. But now, now he was nothing like the man you'd seen around town. His cheek has a fresh cut to it, still warm and sticky to your touch. His yellow t-shirt is ripped, like something has slashed at it with claws, but the skin underneath is fairly untouched. Bronzed and toned abs stark against rings of raised red marks, silver scars - bites. His exposed limbs that extend past the gray cotton shorts on his lower half are covered in bruises that have begun to fade to greens and yellows, almost successfully hidden beneath dark leg hair. Something seriously bad happened to him and as your eyes look around the forest, you can't see any sign of human life that had been there besides him. Your radio crackles as you press the button on your shoulder, "Hey, a, chief?" "Chief's out on a coffee run," Callahan's voice mumbles around what is most likely your muffin that you'd asked Flo for and he didn't. "Well, uh," your eyes roam over the boy again and you huff, "Shit, uh, when's he gonna be back? I got a-ahhhhh!" You fall fully on your ass in the damp leaves as you jump back. Your radio hisses with shouts of your name and asking for your status as the beat of your heart fills your ears. The man's fingers still grip your ankle, hotter than his skin should be after laying in the cold for who knows how long. He sits up, golden and moss eyes that compete for a more breathtaking image than the forest around you plead as his raspy voice does the same. "Don't tell them. Say you're fine. Please."

Your fingers curl around the handle, a deep breath in as your heels twist in the gravel, centering yourself. Sweat dots your upper lip, your temple, beads down your neck and your muscles scream from the strain you've put on them today. But you exhale as the knife leaves your hand with the precise flick of your wrist, and it hits the target in the worn patch you've already made several marks on. A low whistle from behind you has you rolling your eyes. Your boots crunch against the rocks beneath them as you make your way to retrieve the weapons. "What do you want Hop?" The flick of a zippo and his grunt tip you off to the sight you'll find when you turn back around. "Who says I want anything? Can't a teacher come check in on his star pupil?" A small huff of a laugh leaves your lips as you turn, "Uh-huh." Jim Hopper leans against a wooden pole, cigarette between his lips and furrow making his brows meet. He's got that ridiculous new Hawaiian shirt on that's almost enough to make you not notice the folder in his hands. He glances down at it as he opens it. His palm holds it as he removes the cigarette and blows the smoke into the air with his words. "Pretty tough one. Might wanna take Harrington for back up." "I'm not taking Harrington with me on any more runs." Jim's eyes go up as you throw the knives back into the bucket a little too forcefully. "Sounds like you've got a thing for the boy," he states, matter of factly, closing the folder as you walk past him. "Uh, no. He wishes. Just don't see how he falls in love with everything that moves, especially those things." His steps fall in line with yours as he repeats your unconvinced agreement from earlier, "Uh-huh." He holds the folder out to you as you walk, "Take the Harrington kid with you or not, doesn't matter to me. But you're going. Let Buckley know what you'll need. Expect a full report on Tuesday." Hopper continues ahead, back into his office and greeting Flo loud enough for you to hear it from your spot outside. You lean against an oak and open the folder to learn about the next vampire you're destined to kill: Known Alias: Munson, Edward T. Last Known Residency: Hawkins, Indiana Known Kills: Three

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