#how it goes from black and white to red to blue then back to black and white!!! AUGH!!!!

[l0cadef4nfock]

Some more of my Batfam appearance headcanons

Bruce: he 100% had salt n pepper hair; yknow, the black with lines of white in it, if not from his age then from the stress of being Batman for over two decades and being the father of like 7 feral children. But the cool part is that, his hair is jet black, and the white parts can probably reflect light. Also, I hc that when he adopted Dick he still went out in Gothic outfits with full face of goth makeup, but by the time he got Duke he just put on eyeliner everyday and wears black turtlenecks.

Dick: GIVE THAT MAN LONG HEALTHY LUSTROUS HAIR PLEASE. His hair reaches his hips when he showers, it’s almost as black as Bruce’s, and it’s straighter than him (pan Nightwing my beloved). He wears it in a man bun while he goes out as Nightwing, and either in a ponytail or wears it down when he’s with friends/family. He started growing it out when he moved out, and after one particularly bag fight with Bruce he got blue highlights that matched his suit, and gave his dad a heart attack because “secret identities dick!”.

Jason: I saw one artist that draws him half blind, like that the bomb that killed him got him in the eye and now he has an explosion shaped red scar on his face and a white soulless eye. When Roy really annoys him, Jason will come over to his house when he knows he’s on patrol and wait in the dark, and when Roy comes back he just see’s a green glowing eye in his kitchen and he almost shits his pants. Every. Single. Time.

Tim: TRANS TIM IS CANON IN MY OPINION. Let my dude be born a dudet. Let him be double queer. Also, he has piercing to match with his punk boyfriend that he loves very much. Like, it started with snakebites to annoy Bruce (he learned from Dick’s highlights phase), but then he really liked it, and got the regular ear piercing (little Robin earrings he had custom made), and after he started dating Kon they got matching earring together (I don’t know how they’re called, those long ones that sit on your lobe? You know what I mean?). And let my boy have a mullet, we all know he’s the biggest dick glazer and when he saw Nightwing with a mullet when he was 9 it changed his brain chemistry forever.

Damian: give that child some melatonin before I lowk commit. Also, very important, he is Arabic AND CHINESE. He has Chinese blood in him and you are definitely able to see that. In my mind, he’s a few shades lighter than Talia, and his hair is exactly Bruce’s color, he got his mother’s eyes and eyebrows, and his father lips and nose. Also that bitch is GAY and he dresses the part in the best way possible. Like yes he’s still emo as fuck but he 100% fits the gay stereotype of thinking about what to wear for hours and stressing about his looks. OH and he’s the biggest eyeliner abuser in the goddamn family (Bruce is very close behind him and dick is in 3rd and is very unhappy about that).

Cass: she is the proudest lesbian you have ever met, and I mean it. She has a lesbian flag keychain that she keeps on a scissor shaped carabiner that she puts on her jeans with a lesbian star pattern embroidered on it, she rocks scissor shaped earrings right next to her masc lesbian mullet with purple highlights that she gets so very excited every time someone asks about because that means she can info dump about her amazing girlfriend for the next three hours. She has 300 bracelets, earrings and necklaces to match with Steph, and the only shoes she ever wears are mismatched converse, one black and one purple, that she’s sharing with Steph. She has black mini vampire nails, she has countless queer pins on her bag (ahem ahem she uses she they pronouns) and will gladly give you one if you want it.

Steph: pretty much the same as Cass, but she has black highlights instead of purple and she is WAY less extreme than her. She was a bit hesitant about the highlights at first, because she wasn’t sure how that would go with her curly hair, but Cass argued that she always straightens it anyways and Steph is like. “Oh right. Okay babe.” After that talk in which Cass found out Steph has curly hair (she ment it when she said she always straightens it) she starts every morning by begging for Steph to style it curly, and that’s the primary reason why you might spot spoiler with curly hair and a very happy (and a way less brutal) Black Bat.

Alfred: just wanted to remind you all that he canonically sleeps in a suit.

[oblako]

absolutely obsessed with the visual execution of this part like are we all seeing this...

also these two panels:

[captainx-camino]

There's something so perverse about how Jayce is paraded around in white and red and gold when his House colors are clearly shades of blues and browns.

Especially because the more he is used and controlled by the council as a whole, the more he is plastered about as some figurehead or poster boy of Piltover's progresses, the more he is draped in the gilding of false colors.

We actually never get to see him wearing his own House colors past his flashback with the mage, in which the majority of his little outfit is made up of the more humble color scheme.

The only thing he actually still owns in his house colors is the blanket he gives to Viktor, which can be seen in his childhood room and is made of the same material his mother wore during the blizzard for warmth.

Edit to add:

I'm adding this to the original post so y'all don't assume I just didn't analyze the literal BEST Jayce outfit in the whole series.

It's a mourning shroud.

While the highlights may have some blue to them (blue highlighting is very common in animation to keep things from looking dull or muddy) the midtone on his shirt is actually in the yellow field.

Also, no. The Talis House symbol is not red. It's brown and gold (sometimes with white).

Any red relating to the Talis symbol is BECAUSE of the color corruption of Jayce, not in spite of it.

The outfit still has meaning, but as I said in the post, he NEVER goes back to his family colors after being paraded around in the red, gold, and white.

This outfit is black, red, and silver. His armor is black and gold with an off white coat (to show that he's still doing this in a way for Piltover as well, probably.)

It's and end and new beginning. It's a rebirth.

Not a return.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 15

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual language and SMUT VERY FILTHY STRAP TOO OKAY BEWARNED Wordcount: 6,6K A/C: yeah so... we're back. this is so filthy. ALSO I DIDN'T PROOFREAD THIS. i love y'all go enjoy this you freaks

-

Before London

“Are you sure it’s okay I come?” I ask, smoothing over the all black dress, the satin feeling smooth underneath my fingertips. I watch in the reflection of the mirror as Paige fixes her loose curls over my shoulder. “Did you even ask Stewie?”

“Baby you’re my girlfriend. It’s fine,” she replies absentmindedly, lifting the white collar of her shirt to place the black tie around it. Girlfriend. The term still gave me goosebumps all over. That’s who I was. Paige Bueckers’ girlfriend. I had promised myself I wouldn’t be anyone’s girlfriend for a long time. But in the three weeks I had agreed to be one I had found it not to be as scary as my memory had tried to convince me. Nothing had changed really, we were still us. Still had to keep it a secret.

“Does she know?” I ask, pinning the loose strands of my bun down. Paige chews on her bottom lip, trying to do her tie, long fingers fumbling with it.

“Yeah, she said she’s gonna bring Marta,” the blonde says, having to undo her tie. “Don’t worry, she won’t say nothin’.”

“If you say so,” I sigh, cringing as I watch Paige struggle. “Oh dear heavens, let me.”

I turn and slap the girl’s hands off the tie. I could do it in seconds, but my hands linger as I tie it up for her, taking my time feeling the burn of her blue eyes on my skin. Paige’s hand wraps around my waist, sliding down to feel my ass through the fabric.

“We don’t gotta go tho, if you don’t wanna,” she murmurs in that voice that’s trying to convince me I want something I had never even thought of. Good thing I was smarter than her. 

“Paige,” I warn, acting strict as if it didn’t please me how badly she wanted me. Holding the end of the tie, I slide my other hand up the knot, tightening it enough around her neck.

“Fine,” she groans, heavy lidded eyes staring down at me. “We wearing silver tonight?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” I murmur, folding the collar of the white button up down. We had begun a habit of wearing the same colour jewelry, gold some days, silver on others. It made us feel connected, even when we had to pretend to be worlds apart with the Wings. 

I finally meet Paige’s blue eyes, a jolt running through me seeing the hunger which she stared at me with. The blonde grins that lopsided smile that charmed the nation. “You look sexy,” she murmurs, slapping my ass.

A wide smile forms on my plump lips, green eyes flickering between her eyes and lips. Just one kiss might lead to something more, as it so often did with me and her. But my body was dying for it. My one vice. Yanking the red tie, I pull the blonde in, closing the distance between our lips. 

Our lips slide against one another in a sloppy exchange, the hunger amping up quickly. I keep tight hold of the tie, pulling her impossibly closer. Paige, thrilled by control I took and the pressure around her throat groans, exhaling heavily out of her nose.

“We need to go,” I murmur breathlessly. Paige nods but neither of us do anything to stop.

“I’m serious,” I mumble as the girl begins to kiss down my neck, nose inhaling my perfume as much as it could. 

“Yea, yea me too,” she whispers, both her hands kneading my ass. “Just gimmie four minutes mama.”

Considering her offer, I tilt my head to the side letting Paige’s wonderful, soft lips kiss against it tenderly igniting a burn between my thighs. Maybe four minutes wouldn’t be so bad? No, it always led to more. Four minutes always turned into forever with her

“No,” I giggle, pushing the girl off. “Let me put my heels on. Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Paige stops me by my shoulders that were sparkling from the body highlighter I’d used. “I got you sumn.”

With that, the girl digs through her suitcase until she finds a large wrapped box, handing it over with both her hands. I grab it, gleaming. I had quickly figured out that Paige’s love language was definitely gift giving, her bringing me souvenirs from all sorts of places whenever she travelled alone, delivering me flowers and getting me jewelry for no other reason than “just because”.

“Open it.”

At her words I carefully unwrap the corners, neatly pulling the wrapper off. A box is revealed, a white text decorating the top spelling out Christian Louboutin Paris. My mouth drops, when I see the inside - the classic black heel with a bright red bottom. My heart stutters as I sit down on the end of the bed in awe, staring at the pair of shoes in my hands. She got me Louboutins. That’s not a three-weeks-in gift. No, that’s something more. It didn’t scare me like it might have a month ago. I knew if there was something Paige loved it was spoiling her loved ones.

“Oh darling,” I gasp, watching the blonde kneel in front of me and grab the shoes.

“May I?”

Nodding my flushed face, I watch Paige’s big hands wrap around the arch of my foot and slip the heel on, repeating it with each one. The blonde lifts my leg by my ankle, kissing it gently before placing it back down.

“Perfect fit,” she hums, satisfied. “You like em?”

“I love them Paige,” I gasp, standing back up with my girlfriend's help. “Thank you so much.”

She looks me up and down, shaking her head disbelief. “Can’t believe that’s all mine,” she murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss on my cheek.

-

“Oh she’s the exact same! Socks. Everywhere!”

I laugh, sipping on my red wine and nodding enthusiastically. “Yes! It can not be that difficult to take the socks and put them into the laundry basket!”

“They’re not even clean! Smelly and sweaty socks! Horrible!” Marta agrees, waving her glass around animatedly as she speaks.

“Yo, they’re not smelly!” Paige interrupts, shaking her head. “‘S not even that bad. Y’all are sock-shaming me.”

“I wouldn’t be sock-shaming you if they weren’t all over my beautiful living room,” I scoff.

“See, I got this one to stop and now I have toys all over my beautiful living room,” Marta chuckles, toying with the glass of wine between her fingertips. “You just have to train them well.”

“Ohhh,” I giggle. “So I have to train you,” I tell Paige, feeling her hand squeezing my thigh through the satin.

Paige wiggles her eyebrows, that familiar, stupid, charming grin on her face. “That’s kinda freaky.”

I narrow my eyes at her, fighting a smile. I knew that look. “Paige Madison!” I gasp. The grin falls off her face, an embarrassed redness spreading along her cheeks. Marta and Stewie both laugh. The night had been fun, conversation flowing easy between us and the couple. Me and Marta had obviously bonded quickly over our European backgrounds, finding humor in the habits of our American girls, such as their horrible table manners.

The restaurant was dimly lit, gentle jazz playing softly in the background. It was very fancy, definitely something Marta had picked out. The soft flame of the candle illuminates Paige’s tan skin in a warm light, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. She looked so effortlessly beautiful. I don’t think I had ever been so attracted to a person. Never in my past relationships I had looked at someone and physically felt butterflies - but whenever I looked at Paige I felt them fluttering away in my stomach. Every damn time.

“Forgive me,” Paige pleads, clutching at her chest dramatically.

“For a kiss,” I smile, already imagining how I’ll be pulling that tie later. Just not here. Not yet.

The blonde looks around, shaking her head subtly. “There’s a girl that been looking at me. I think she might know me.”

Exhaling, I look around too to indeed find a brown haired girl at a table, whispering around with her friends and staring at my girlfriend. A twitch of possessiveness grows inside me, wanting me to kiss her and claim her here and then. But I knew better, so I turn back to my salmon and eat it quietly.

“You still keeping it under wraps then?” Stewie asks, following the exchange closely.

“We don’t have a choice,” I respond. “Not unless I’m willing to lose my job. And if I lose my job I lose my visa, so.”

“What?” The older woman leans back, staring at me with furrowed eyes, her dark hair flowing past her shoulders. “Lose your job?”

“My boss doesn’t allow it, anyone dating the players.”

Marta scoffs. “Is that even allowed?”

I chuckle, shrugging. “Does it matter? She could just fire me for any reason and find a person to take over my position. I know how disposable I am.”

“No you’re not. Linda loves you,” Paige answers. “I think we should just tell her.”

This again. Frustration builds in my gut, making me clench my jaw. This was a very common conversation between me and the blonde. She simply didn’t understand the stakes - because it wasn’t she who would lose her job, it would be me. If this got out she’d still have her jersey, her sponsorships, her fame. Me? I’d lose everything.

“Definitely do not tell her if she’s said that,” Stewie disagrees. 

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Paige mumbles.

“Wait so you’re here on a work visa, no? What are you doing after the season?” Marta asks me, raising her brows. I exhale heavily, I had been trying not to think about it.

“Go home I guess, try to find a job here or get my position back for next season. It’s still a little uh… undecided.”

Paige clears her throat uncomfortably, shifting on her seat. I could tell she didn’t want to think about it any more than I did.

“Damn, that sucks,” Stewie mumbles, putting down her fork. “If you need help looking I know some people, I can ask around.”

“Or you could just get married,” Marta jokes, looking through her purse.

Stewie’s gesture warms my heart. Truthfully, I had been trying to look for other jobs - no one wanted to hire the British girl and pay for the visa just to get a worker they could easily find in the States. But I am also far too proud to ever accept a favour like that, not unless I have something to offer in return.

“Oh shit,” Marta mumbles, scrolling on her phone. “Honey, we have to go. The sitter has a fever.”

“No way,” Stewie sighs, quickly downing the last bit of her wine. “We better get the check,” she mumbles, eyes flickering around for a waiter.

“Nahhh, you go. I got it,” Paige waves them off easily. Something about the confidence and practiced ease of the gesture forced me to squeeze my thighs together underneath the table. “Go home.”

“You sure?” Breanna asks, standing up and throwing her black denim jacket on. Paige nods assertively, while giving a shrill look to a man walking by, clearly checking me out. I feel her body press tighter against mine, like she wanted everyone to know she owned me.

“I think you have to go to that event alone tomorrow hun, I’ll have to stay with the kids,” Marta mumbles, fixing her hair absentmindedly.

“I guess so,” Stewie sighs, disappointed. Paige beside me gives me a look that I can’t read.

“We can babysit.”

Snapping my head, I turn to the blonde. “We can?”

“Why not?” She shrugs, “I’m great with kids. Trust.”

Of course she was. She was practically just another child herself.

“No, we couldn’t ask.” Stewie refuses. “Those two are a handful.”

I chuckle, nodding towards the blonde. “So is this one,” I joke, getting an offended scoff in response. “We would love to help. Really.”

Breanna and Marta eye each other for a moment, clearly having some sort of nonverbal discussion amongst themselves. It takes everything in me not to lean against Paige’s broad shoulder, I couldn’t wait to get home. Not for any lustful reason, genuinely what I craved most in the outside world was the gentle touches, the heavenly kisses or merely the way she brushed against me whenever I was near. 

“Are you sure about this?” Marta asks, my eyes snapping from my girlfriend to the woman.

“Definitely,” Paige responds with a sureness that would convince anyone. I couldn’t help but admire the way she showed up for those who needed her without needing anything in return. It wasn’t just me, it was family, friends, community. She was always there. Maybe she wasn’t the best with words or communicating. Because she didn’t communicate through words but actions. Maybe that would make it all worth suffering over scattered socks.

-

New York City is warm on the July evening, but the slight breeze makes me carefully place my jacket over Izara’s shoulders as we wait for our car to arrive. The dark haired girl smiles bashfully but grabs hold of the fabric. The leather swallowed her, cocooning Izzie with warmth. The loose strands of her bun flow in the air, covering some of her face. I can’t help but reach over and brush them behind her ear - I couldn’t bear not to see her eyes. Those sharp, knowing, challenging eyes I had grown to look for everywhere I went.

“Thank you,” she hums, fluttering her long lashes at me. I nearly groan from how bad I want to kiss her, to taste her lips tinted red with wine. My insides twist at the sound of her smooth but low voice, a warmth like no other spreading over me.

“Do you remember that first time we shared a car months ago?” Izzie asks, the corners of her mouth lifted upwards.

“Yeah,” I grin, looking to the ground thinking about how I had probably never been so attracted to anyone in my entire life. “You were intimidating as hell.”

“I could tell you were scared of me,” she laughs, looking around the busy street for the car. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

I shake my head, laughing too at the memory of how I’d acted a fool. “Nah, I was just so attracted to you like, the minute I saw you.”

“Me too,” she admits, green eyes twinkling at me under the street lamps.

“Forreal?” I ask surprised. If this was true she hadn’t let it show. Or I had been too blind to notice.

“Yes Paige, forreal.”

I can’t help but chuckle at her use of the word, affection overwhelming me. “Look at you using my lingo.”

Izara rolls her eyes, pushing me away by my face. “Do not think for a second you’ll Americanize me.”

“You’re so cute just wanna eat you up,” I laugh easily, wrapping my hands around her waist from behind. 

“Is that a promise?” She teases, swaying us back and forth.

“Always ma,” I lean over to say into her ear, fighting every cell in me to start kissing her. “I like you so bad, y’know that?” The words didn’t seem sufficient to really express how I felt, all of them too vapid to describe the stirring inside me. “So bad it makes me stupid.”

Izzie laughs, nodding knowingly. “I like you too baby,” she hums. “So much.”

Just then, our car finally pulls up, stopping right in front of us. I thank God for rewarding my patience, opening the door and slipping in after my beautiful girl who I liked, no adored, more than anything. That word doesn’t feel right either, too lackluster, too void of what I was feeling. I’m sure I’d find the right word someday.

-

“Okay so snacks are in the fridge. Feel free to eat anything you’d like. And I’lll have my ringer up if you need to call, oh also don’t worry about cleaning up-”

“Marta, baby,” Breanna chuckles, taking her wife’s hand. “I think they got it.”

“I promise, we’ll be okay,” Izzie smiles. “Go have fun, I’ll have my phone on me.”

Marta sighs, looking at us two before going up to the kids who are sitting on the couch, both watching Bluey. 

“Mommy’s gonna be back soon okay? Be good to Paige and Zari. I love you,” she mumbles to each of them, kissing their foreheads before returning to the door. “Okay okay okay, we need to go now.”

“I’ll carry you out if I have to,” Stewie jokes, helping Marta put her coat on. “Alright, bye now. See you in a couple hours.”

“Bye y’all, have fun,” I wave, closing the door behind the couple. Carefully, I turn to Ruby and Theo expecting at the very least a few cries. But the pair sit happily on the couch, too invested in the cartoon.

“Hey my loves,” Izzie smiles to the two of them, crouching on the couch in front of the kids. “I got you some surprises.”

This catches Ruby’s attention, her eyes flickering to Izara’s bag as she digs through it and pulls out a few pots of playdough we had picked up this morning. 

“Have you ever played with this?” She asks, waving the pots around. But Ruby ignores her.

“Why do you talk like that?” She asks, clearly confused. I burst into laughter, Izara trying to hide her amusement to not offend the little girl.

“Ohh, see, I have an accent,” she explains kindly. “I’m from England. It’s in Europe.”

“Did you fly here?” Ruby questions, scooting to the edge of the couch closer to Iz.

“I sure did,” she smiles. “On a plane.”

“I flied on the sky with a big plane,” the little girl explains.

“Wow, really?” Izzie asks enthusiastically. “Did you like it?”

The little girl thinks for a while. “I was scawed. Theo cried too much.”

Iz laughs, scooting closer to her carefully. “Aw, maybe he was nervous.”

“It was loud. I covered my ears. Like this,” Ruby demonstrates, covering her ears with her little hands. Me and Izara laugh at the girl, her hair in sweet little pigtails. “What’s that?” Her tiny hand points to the yellow pots in Izzie’s hands.

“Oh, this is playdough. Have you ever played with it before?”

“What’s playdoh?”

“Well how about we go to the table and look at it? Would you like to come with me?” Carefully, Izzie holds out her hand for the young girl. She goes back and forth, until in a moment of bravery, she grabs Izara’s finger, and begins to wobble over to the kitchen. I watch the two of them, my heart fluttering at the sight.

“Theooo, cmere bro,” I coo at the younger boy who smiles at me easily, holding up his little arms and letting me carry him over to the kitchen table where Izzie and Ruby are already molding the playdough.

“I make a tiara and put it on my head,” Ruby gleams, beginning to place the playdough all over her hair.

“Oh goodness,” Iz stops her just before disaster strikes, grabbing the dough from her hands. “How about we keep the playdough on the table, and make crowns out of something else?”

Ruby sighs dramatically - until her eyes light up. “Wait!” she gasps, taking off running. Her little feet quickly jog back with two plastic tiaras in her hands. “Now I’m a princess!” She giggles, placing one of them in her head. “You too!”

“For me?” Izzie smiles, taking the crown from the girl. Somehow the plastic tiara gently laid on her black hair makes her sparkle in a way I had never seen before.

“Yes! You’re a princess too!”

“Hey!” I gasp, letting Theo squeeze and mold the dough while sitting on my knee. “I’m not a princess?”

“Hmm,” Ruby thinks, eyeing me up and down. “You can be a cowboy. Or a dog.”

“Woof woof!” Theo cheers, clapping his hands together and getting the dough all over the floor.

Izzie laughs gently, molding a heart out of the red playdough and handing it to me. I almost melt. So I can’t help it when I grab a hold of her soft hand, kissing it gently.

“Are you two married?” Ruby asks without missing a beat. Me and my Izara chuckle, my skin turning hot.

“She wishes,” Iz teases, kicking me underneath the table. “We’re not. But we’re girlfriends.”

“Okay and do you have a baby?” The little girl continues. A redness spreads over Izara’s cheeks as I wiggle my brows at her. I don’t need to say anything. She knows exactly what’s on my mind.

“We don’t,” Iz says, her green eyes moving to the little girl, gasping when she finally realised Ruby had combined all the colours into one brown pile despite her long discussion with the little girl.

“Ruby, what are you doing?” She asks, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I make a rainbow!”

I scoff lightheartedly. “That’s not a rainbow, it’s brown.”

The little girl tilts her head, looking at the brown pile before beginning to laugh hysterically. “It’s a poop rainbow!”

Theo erupts into giggles, banging his hands on the table.

-

“You regretting it yet my love?” I chuckle, watching Paige wiping sweat off her forehead after taking turns spinning the two kids up in the air. Mind you, this had been going on for the past 20 minutes.

“Again, again!” Theo cheers, pulling on the blonde’s sweatpants. 

“God help me,” Paige mumbles to me and herself, pulling her white t-shirt off over her head, leaving the girl in a black sports bra, sweat dripping down her veiny arms.

“More Paigey!” Ruby whines, jumping up and down.

“Okay my loves, I think Paigey needs a little break,” I say gently, handing Theo a toy dinosaur to redirect his energy. The little boy sits down, happily roaring to himself as he plays. But I can see the quiver in Ruby’s lower lip as disappointment takes over.

“Moreeee,” she sniffles and then erupts into tears, beginning to cry loudly.

Paige’s eyes widen in a panic. “I can go one more ti-”

But I stop her, shaking my head. Paige can’t just bend to the girl’s will because of some tears.

Getting down on Ruby’s level, I grab her tiny hands into mine, establishing eye contact.

“Ruby, hey Ruby, look at me,” I coo, my thumbs brushing against the soft skin. “You’re feeling really disappointed huh?”

The little girl nods, cheeks red and filled with tears. “Really wanted to spin,” she says in a shaky voice.

“I know darling,” I say empathetically. “You know what always helps me when I’m sad? Taking some deep breaths. Would you want to do some with me?”

Ruby nods sadly, beginning to follow my breathing pattern - inhaling through your nose, exhaling through your mouth. We do that until she stops tearing up, Paige’s ocean blue eyes eyeing us carefully.

“Would you like a hug Ruby?” I carefully ask. The little girl immediately wraps her short arms around me, squeezing tight. I can’t help but smile, holding her tight and lifting my eyes to find Paige staring, her eyes soft and gentle as she watches me take care of the girl.

“I got an idea Ruby,” she says, crouching down beside. “You wanna build a fort?”

“Wow! That’d be great huh?” I ask the girl who finally lets go of me, nodding excitedly. “I’ll go make a snack while you do that.”

In the kitchen I begin to cut slices out of apples behind the corner, listening to the muffled laughter and joy erupting from the living room. A wide smile spreads onto my face as I bite into an apple slice, butterflies filling my stomach at the sound of Paige playing with the children. In this moment I could burst with the affection I felt for her. There was something about seeing her with kids, the way she made them giggle effortlessly, the way her strong arms held them, protected them, took care of them. Something about it had me going weak in the knees.

I jump slightly, feeling a hand wrap around my waist from behind, the scent of sandalwood cocooning me. 

“You’re amazing, y’know that?” Paige murmurs into my ear, her hot breath causing shivers to run up and down my spine. “You’re so good with em.”

I chuckle softly, letting out a shaky breath when the blonde’s soft lips brush against the crook of my neck. “You’re everything,” I reply, my voice turning vulnerable. 

Paige’s strong hands spin me around by my waist, now eye to eye with her. She doesn’t say anything at first, just stares - like she’s trying to comprehend something. My breath hitches, chest tightening under her gaze. She looks at me with her pupils blown. chest rising and falling a little too fast, like her heart couldn’t keep quiet, soft cheeks flushed red. I wasn’t sure why or what it meant.

“Fuck I like you so much,” she murmurs, making me blush. I knew exactly how she felt. I felt it too, or at least I thought I did.

“PAIGEYY!” A loud scream erupts from the living room, followed by the tapping of little feet. “Hurry up! I wanna play Frozen and be Elsa in my fort!”

The little girl peaks around the corner, Paige instinctively taking a step back to create space between us.

“You can be Sven!” Ruby says, waving around a pair of toy reindeer antlers.

-

There’s a soreness pulsing through all my muscles when I kick off my shoes, placing them neatly in the corner of the hotel room and walking in. Paige follows behind me, her hoodie coming up and showcasing her lower stomach as she stretches her arms.

“I’m so beat,” she murmurs. I nod, beginning to undress eagerly to get into my favourite pyjamas - Paige’s shirt. I pull off my top and shorts, and I'm left to dig through the suitcase in my satin lingerie. Suddenly I feel the blonde’s hands on me, unbuckling my bra for me from behind, releasing my breasts from its hold as it falls off me.

“Paige,” I scold lightheartedly, but she doesn’t speak, her fingers slide around me and brush against my nipples making them grow hard. With a shaky exhale, I lean my head back against her shoulder, my hands holding the white button down I slept in while she kneads my breasts, perfectly fitting into the palms of her large hands. Those perfect fucking hands.

“Want you mama,” she whispers into my ear, kissing along it. I moan gently, giggling a little.

“I need to- ah- wash my face first darling,” I mumble. “Keep it in your pants just a little bit longer.”

Paige groans but let’s go, rubbing her jaw in frustration. “Just be quick.”

I hurry into the bathroom, my meticulous skincare routine impossible to make quick despite my girlfriend’s wishes. Finally, after 20 minutes or so I walk out to the low rumbling of Paige’s snores, finding her laid on her back in just a sports bra and boxers, arm thrown over her face. That’s mine.

I merely watch for a moment, taking her in, taking the day in. A warm feeling overwhelms me, and the urge to curl up next to the blonde grows bigger than ever before. Everybody wanted her, yet she was all mine, worshipping the ground I walked on. Little did she know I felt the exact same.

Tiptoeing around the room, I turn off the lights, crawling into bed beside her, covering both of us in the white cotton of the duvet. Before I fall asleep, I lean into her neck, smelling the sandalwood one more time before my eyelids grow too heavy to keep admiring her.

-

It can’t be more than ten in the morning when I feel wet, sloppy kisses being placed into the back of my neck, fingers pushing my hair to the side. I stir, still half asleep, nuzzling my face into the pillow as I lie on my stomach. A gentle touch running down my spine slowly, goosebumps spreading everywhere. 

Another kiss, now on my shoulder as fingers reach under me to undo the two buttons I had been sensible to do last night. I stir again, my body subconsciously helping by allowing the white button up to be pulled off my body, leaving me in a light pink satin thong.

“Mmh,” I hum against the cotton, bringing my hand to rub the sleepiness off my eyes when there’s a gentle shush in my ear.

“Go back to sleep ma,” Paige coos. Another wet kiss on my ear this time, sending jolts to my core. “Just wanna eat your pussy.”

Oh. Suddenly I feel more awake, and even eager, my legs spreading without me even noticing. Paige does though, grinning proudly as she kisses between my shoulderblades, wet, hot, messy kisses leaving a glistening trail down my spine. My eyes maintain closed, my brain still partly asleep but my body’s alert, my back curving my ass into the air when Paige’s lips go lower and lower.

The weight of the blonde on the mattress shifts as she sits up to admire me, both her hands gently grabbing my ass and kneading, seeing the way my light pink thong covering my cunt is peeking out between my thighs, teasing her. I feel the air hitting my core as she grabs my ass more harshly, my back arching involuntarily joined by a desperate whine. How quickly I’d gone from being asleep to dying to have her.

“I know mama, I know,” she murmurs lovingly, fingertips stroking up and down my thighs, spreading them apart just slightly. “I’ma take care of you. Gonna make it all better.”

Her words comfort me only a little, but they don’t fix the aching, dripping sensation between my thighs. Finally, Paige’s fingertips dip underneath the band of my thongs as she pulls them down my thighs with a gasp.

“Damn you’re so wet,” she hisses, slowly spreading my legs the slightest bit. “You dream of me or sumn?”

I’m too dazed and gone to answer, my only response to lift my ass off the mattress enough to give Paige a good view.

“Relax,” she whispers and finally I feel her warm tongue lick along my slit, flat against my dripping pussy once, twice, three times.

“Oh,” I gasp, my fists gripping the white sheets underneath me. Paige moans at the taste of me, pulling back to fill her lungs with air before diving fully in.

Suddenly it’s like she’s everywhere, moving slow but with precise movements, making me feel her all over.

“Baby,” I whimper as Paige’s hands spread my lips apart, burying her face deep enough into my cunt so I feel her nose pressing inside me. “Shit.”

She’s moaning harder than I am, eyes rolled back as she pulls back to spit into my folds, just to dive right back in and slurp all of it up.

“Shit’s so wet huh?” Paige mumbles against my clit, sending vibrations everywhere. My eyes begin to water, the pillow muffling my moans.

Needing more, I prop myself up onto my knees so my ass is in the air. Easier access. Paige groans, pulling back to admire my wet, pulsing pussy - one of her favourite things to do. I swear sometimes she just lied between my legs looking at me.

“Fucking shit,” she cusses, spreading me apart to see the gushes of wetness dripping out of me with every throb, quickly bringing her tongue back to my cunt as to not waste a drop. 

“Paige,” I whimper, legs trembling with need. I needed to cum. Bad. “Don’t stop.”

“Yes ma’am,” she replies without hesitation. Suddenly she’s back at it, her tongue swirling in my folds, circling my clit until she begins to lap me up the way only she knew how.

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop,” I gasp. Paige nods against my pussy, the sounds of her slurping me up filthy. “Make me feel so good.”

“Shit…” Paige mumbles, “tell me again, please.”

“You make- ah shit, make me feel so good baby,” I moan, the throbbing becoming harder and harder to as I got closer.

She moans at my words, they only egg her on. It’s like she’s everywhere, gripping my thighs, slurping me up, taking my clit into her mouth and sucking on it gently. I can’t help it anymore.

“Baby I- I’m- I’m gonna-“ I gasp, my moaning turning uncontrollable as she eats me. A simple nod is enough to have me rolling off the edge, grasping the sheets and gasping for air as I cum.

The blonde praises me through it, her words a distant comfort as waves of ecstasy wash over me, my wetness covering her entire face.

Weakly, I roll onto my back. My chest heaves and my eyes remain closed, but Paige crawls up from between my legs and begins to kiss me. Tenderly, lovingly, with so much emotion it surprises me.

The taste of me is all over her face as my mouth wrap around her bottom lip, pulling on it gently. She grins in response, stroking my sides and arms to bring me down.

“Iz?” She asks. Her voice is uncharacteristically shaky and nervous which alerts me enough to open my eyes.

“Yes my darling?”

She meets my gaze with her blue eyes filled with lust. 

“I bought it, thought we could try… y’know.”

Oh I immediately know. I gulp. The strap had been left untouched waiting for the right moment. Maybe this was it?

Paige, too nervous to wait for me to speak, begins to kiss my neck, her breathing irregular and ragged.

“I just wanna feel you,” she murmurs, trailing downwards with wet kisses. She sucks on my collarbone, surely leaving a red mark. “Please.”

Paige’s big hands come to my full breasts, kneading gently. My hands finds its way into her hair, guiding her mouth to my nipple in a moment of desperation.

“Ahh,” I moan softly, Paige’s soft lips sucking my nipple and breast, making my back arch in response. I swear something about her mouth on my tits had me almost cumming sometimes.

“Please, just wanna be inside you ma,” she whimpers. Looking down I see her eyes watering as she her eyes roll into her head, so desperate and hungry I nearly had her in tears. “Please mommy.”

I gasp at her words, an immediate jolt rushing back to my core, still throbbing and sensitive. Paige keeps sucking on my nipples, her tongue circling them. I don’t think she realised what she said.

“Okay, okay baby.”

-

What I hadn’t considered was how wild just seeing the strap on Paige would have me, the silicone resting on her with her veiny hand stroking it like it was an extension of her. It might as well have been, the color matching Paige’s skin tone perfectly.

“Fuck,” she’s already panting as she climbs into the bed, eyes locked on her hand wrapped around the length.

My breathing is shaky too, a nearly painful feeling of emptiness inside me making me whiny.

“Baby,” I whisper to get the blonde’s attention.

“Yeah?”

When her blue eyes meet mine, I finally spread my legs apart, watching her gaze trail down to my core.

“Shit, okay, yeah,” Paige mumbles flustered, settling herself between my legs. She’s trembling, a bead of sweat dripping down her neck. 

I gasp, feeling the silicone press gently against my slit. Paige gasps too, eyes locked onto where our bodies met as she taps the strap against my clit. I moan, brows furrowed. Fuck this. I couldn’t wait any more. The emptiness was too painful.

I reach down, taking charge and grabbing the silicone, guiding it against my folds until it’s glistening with wetness. Paige’s jaw falls slack, her eyes growing even heavier than before. Even more so when I finally guide the tip to my entrance, my leg wrapping around her waist to slip its length inside me.

“Oh sh-“ I gasp, immediately throwing my head back when I feel the intrusion. She’s big, of course she is, enough to make my legs tremble as I get overwhelmed.

“Holy fuck,” Paige hisses, watching closely as her strap - no her dick - stretches me open. “Izzie.”

“P-Paige,” I cry out.

“I’m here baby,” she whimpers, bringing her thumb to my lips and brushing it against mine as I adjust to her.

“S-So big,” I murmur, hissing as Paige slowly pushes deeper inside.

“Ah, fuck,” she cusses. “But you take it so well baby, take my dick so well.”

I moan at her words. “Baby, please.”

Nodding, mouth ajar, Paige begins to roll her hips, the strap slipping in and out of me. The stretch borders on overwhelming, a gasp spilling from my lips every time she thrusts her hips into mine.

“Fuck, look at that,” Paige hisses, eyes flickering between my chest, bouncing as she fucks me, and where her strap is digging into me, my pussy gushing and stretching around it. “Goddamn.”

She begins to go faster, my hands reaching up for her shoulders and pulling her down. We meet in a breathy kiss, both taking turns to moan into each other’s mouths. The sound of skin slapping fills the hotel room, my pussy loud as hell around her length.

“Baby, fuck,” I moan louder than before, and Paige takes it as a sign to reach down and rub sloppy circles on my clit. As she does, a gush of wetness bursts out of me, covering her thighs and dampening the sheets.

“Oh sh- Does my dick feel good? Deep inside that pussy?

I nod, my eyes rolling back. “Feel so good. I love your dick.”

“Shit,” she cusses. “W-want me to cum inside you?”

I nod again, in a complete haze, too drunk off her to think. “Please, need you to. Want you to put a baby in me.”

Paige’s head lulls back and forth, a loud moan leaving her lips. “Don’t worry, I’ma put a baby in you. Gonna get you pregnant.”

“Let me give you a baby,” I moan back. She’s pounding into me now, and as I open my eyes I find her eyes rolling back, jaw slack and brows furrowed.

“Holy- Shit, baby, I’ma put a baby in you. Take me so well. So deep in you- shit, in your guts.”

She’s rambling, the way she did whenever she got close. Wait? She’s close? Without being touched?

It only gets me wetter, my nails digging into her skin and leaving red marks all over. 

“Are you close?” I ask in a shock, moaning as she thrusts into me hard. Our noses nuzzle against each other with each pump, her lips hovering over mine as we whimper into each other’s mouths.

“C-can’t help it, swear I can feel it,” she mumbles. “Swear I can feel this pussy, ma, so fucking wet and tight. Sh- she’s so perfect.”

“Paige, baby,” I cry out, looking at her scrunched up face as the knot in my abdomen tightens and tightens. “Baby, I’m close.”

“M-me too, lemme cum inside you, please, feel so good, I love you, I’ma cum,” Paige rambles, but I barely hear her, as my pussy grips around her dick, the knot finally snapping as she slams her hips into mine, cumming with me. Curses as moans fill the room as the thrusts turn sloppy and slower, both of us riding out our highs. But I only hear one thing. Paige’s voice saying I love you, ringing in my ears painfully.'

-

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[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ Heyyyy, So just watched a horror movie so expect some of that vibe in the story lol anyway to the story! }~

•Living Doll•

The old Drake manner has been moved into.

The house was bought by a man wearing a black suit and a purple hat that covered his face and for the life of anyone who talked with him they can’t remember his name or face but they could remember why he was buying the house, it was for his niece and nephew and as he has to travel around a lot for work they would live alone for the most part.

So when they heard this Bruce and Dick went over to say hello spy on the niece and nephew.

Who opens the door is a tall messy red haired woman who looks like she wants nothing more than to shut the door and pass the fuck out so Bruce puts on “Brucie” and starts talking to her about how he so happy to have a new neighbor and stuff while Dick looks around from where he is standing.

And that’s when he sees it a porcelain face and arm peeking out from behind a wall, the arm has light blue detailing on it and Dick couldn’t get a good look before the figure sees him looking at them and moving behind the wall the rest of the way and it seems the woman hear the figure and saw where Dick was looking and immediately shut the door in Bruce’s and Dicks faces.

This is definitely something for the Bats.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Background•

Jack and Maddie caught Danny changing back from Phantom, they hit him in the back of the head with a Fenton-bat and brought him down to the lab and they started to see what they could do..

Jazz had just came home from the school and looking for colleges to go to when she heard her parents in the basement and she thought nothing of it.

But when she didn’t hear or see Danny when Jazz knew that he was home that’s when she can tell something’s up so Jazz goes up to his room and that’s when she sees it the bloody bat with specks of a so familiar green.

That when Jazz feels her blood go cold and she books it down the stairs to the basement but the door is locked and she can hear Jacks and Maddie s tools cutting into something and Jazz knows what that something is. She starts trying to break down the door until she remembers the bat in the kitchen so she runs to the kitchen.

And thank all of the Ancients that it is still there so she grabs it and runs back and breaks down the door and that’s when she sees it.

Arms cut off and torn to shreds, legs broken beyond repair, muscles and organs removed and put in jars and the dead eyed look in her baby brothers eyes and his core in mother Maddies hand everything gets foggy.

The next time Jazz is presented she is sitting on the bathroom floor covered in blood with Danny’s light blue almost white glowing core in her hands and a very bloody bat next to her.

That’s when she hears it the sound of a string being pulled and Clockwork shows up in front of her and explains that now with Danny original body being torn apart (Which gets a death glare from Jazz) and how with his core still intact Jazz can make a new body for him but how they would need to leave this world as if they don’t this will happen again.

And Jazz immediately agrees.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Little Facts•

•Jazz a lot less sane than in the show

•Jazz is protective as hell of Danny 

•If you put a ghost core in an object to that is vaguely human they can take over it and over time the objects start to look like the ghost until it has turned into the ghost body!

•In the manner there all the books Jazz could need to make a new body for Danny and really anything Jazz or Danny could want

•Jazz is supposed to have a Fog Core while Danny has a Ice Core

•Jazz always has a gun of her making on her at all times, ALWAYS

•when Clockwork shows up randomly you can hear the sound of a string pulled

•The DCU side of this is inspired by This Au of mine

•Jazz found all of hers and Danny’s clothes already in the manner and she doesn’t want to leave Danny’s core alone so she doesn’t really care about it all to much

•Cores kinda work like the kids ghost eyes from Coraline

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Appearances•

Danny-

Jazz-

And here’s what Danny’s new body looks like

~{and that’s it! Sorry if the story part is short I am very tired lol so if any of you gremlins want to take it feel free to anyway until next time byeeeeee}~

[lockefanfic]

Last Chance - Part 2

Part 1.

---

Even in the lineup at an airport Starbucks, Chou Tzuyu made your heart skip a beat.

Her hair is pulled into a messy bun that lives up to the name, although the loose strands that refused to fall in with the rest of her hair do well to frame her small face in wavy strands of chocolate. She is wearing an oversized sweatshirt and a matching loose pair of sweatpants, a large tote bag slung casually over one shoulder as she scrolls blankly on her phone, waiting for her turn to exchange money for caffeine. Even in casual clothing and little makeup, she made everyone else in the lineup look like movie extras, non-player characters in a virtual world meant to fill out a crowd.

She shuffles forward as the line advances. The girl behind her, a tall girl in a blue baseball cap pulled down almost over her eyes and similarly engrossed into whatever was on her phone, follows. She bumps into Tzuyu and apologizes profusely; Tzuyu smiles sweetly at her and gives her a small bow. As she turns forward again, her eyes find yours.

At the sight of you, her eyes, though rimmed with exhaustion and a lack of sleep, regain their brightness. Her lips curl into a warm smile as she brushes back a stray lock of hair, tucking it behind her ear. She looks at you like you’re the only other person that exists amidst the hustle and bustle of the busy airport, and in that moment you feel a warmth blossom in your chest. The rest of the world seems to fade away into black and white, monotone dullness.

Her left hand re-adjusts the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder. The diamond wedding ring on her ring finger glimmers.

---

“Fuck, it’s so cold in here,” your friend Joey says, stating what had become painfully obvious in the ten minutes you’d spent in his apartment since your return to the party from Tzuyu’s place. “Of all the times for the heater to give out…”

“Yeah,” you agree, although truth be told you could have been in Antarctica at the moment and you wouldn’t have noticed. You take another sip out of the mystery concoction within the plastic red cup in your hands, but the slight burn of the alcohol is temporary and fleeting, and does little to lighten your mood.

“Bro, you good?” he asks, some indeterminate amount of time later. You weren’t sure how long you’d spent staring blankly at your cup. From the moment you’d left Tzuyu’s apartment, the entire evening had started to feel like a blur. You felt blank, numb. Even the journey back to the apartment seemed to happen in a flash, as though it didn’t really happen. You remember leaving Tzuyu’s bedroom, and the next thing you knew you were being greeted with the booming baseline of the music pumping out of your friend’s apartment.

“I’m good,” you answer, managing to flash him a smile. There’s genuine concern on his face. Joey was one of the real ones, and you were glad you dragged yourself out to his party, even despite the heartache that was putting a damper on how much you were able to enjoy it.

“Listen bud, I’m not sure what you were up to while you were away, but we’re going to get you over it. Starting with another drink. And maybe setting you up with that girl I introduced you to earlier. She’s around here somewhere.”

Joey stands, peering out into the couple dozen people who still filled his apartment, apparently unable to find the person he was looking for amidst the crowd. Even at this late hour and with a busted heater, his fifth annual Inbetween-Christmas-and-New-Years party showed no signs of ending. He pats you on the shoulder, shoots you a crooked smile, and heads off toward the kitchen to fix you a drink.

You smile weakly at him as he disappears into the crowd. Your attention returns to your cup, and the dark amber liquid it contained. Your fingers trace the rim. A sigh escapes your lips. The music goes on, the heavy beat and chatter of the partygoers a dull thump and mumble that barely registers in your ears. Your head is elsewhere.

You think about her. You remember the last moments in her apartment in flashes, in a blur, despite it happening less than an hour ago. You remember standing from the bed, pulling on your boxers and pants with an urgency that you knew now was actually hurt and heartache. The hurt and heartache that came with knowing she would be someone else’s soon, that she’d never be yours again. Tonight was the night that you’d lost her - a thought made even more bitter by the knowledge that she was never yours to begin with, that despite the years of knowing her, knowing her secrets, knowing everything there was to know about her… it was someone else she’d chosen to fall for.

You remember the feel of her on your lips, her slickness on your cock, even as you zipped up your pants and pulled your shirt on with a speed and desperation that must have surprised her. But you had to get out of there. Had to leave the stifling, oppressive heat of her apartment and the heaviness of the unspoken words that pervaded the air, making it difficult to breathe.

She said something, then.

You remember the look on her face when you turned to face her. You’d never forget what you saw there - that broken, shattered look on her face, as though she were in a pain she’d never experienced before, her palm cradling her cheek, eyes shut. It was only there for a second or two. It may as well have been forever. It certainly felt like forever, judging from the way that moment seared itself into your memory and your heart, a burden for you to carry for the rest of your life.

What did she say? You wrack your brain, doing your best to remember, to reach back into time and grasp that moment, those words, as though you could wrap your hands around them and make them real, cradle them in your palms and bring them to your ear where they could fill you with their meaning.

She told you it was nothing, that she hadn’t said anything. But even as the words left her mouth you knew she was lying.

The moment was gone now. Lost. And even if you’d asked her again she’d just lie and tell you she said nothing at all.

You take another drink, wanting to taste something, feel anything. The drink tastes like dirt in your mouth. The party continues around you, a blur of movement and bodies and sound and it all feels so far away and distant, like it was happening on a completely different plane of existence.

When your phone vibrates in your pocket you almost don’t bother fishing it out and looking at it. You sigh, pick it out of your pants, and curse whoever deemed that the right time to send you a notification.

Two messages, both from her.

Hey, reads the first message.

I’m outside. Come see me, reads the second.

---

The path from your friend’s apartment, past the press of partygoers and out into the hallway, down the elevator, and outside onto the street, is quick - quicker than it really should have been. But before you knew it, you were leaving the party, passing through the crowd, down the elevator and through the lobby, in what seemed like an instant. The world passes by you in a quick blur, as though you were viewing it through a smudged lens.

But then you reach her, standing there on the sidewalk waiting for you, and everything snaps back into clear, razor-sharp focus. 

“Hey,” she says, softly, the single syllable striking you with surprising clarity, given the dull beat of the party music and the rumble of nearby passing vehicles.

“Hey,” you answer, not knowing what else to say. You notice she’s wearing the same thing she was wearing earlier that night - that same short black and white baseball shirt, and the tiny pair of green shorts that left most of her midriff and her long, slim legs bare. Despite her scant attire, she doesn’t seem to mind the cold, which seemed even worse out here than it did in the apartment. Semi-shovelled snow lines the sidewalk and pedestrians pass by bundled up in thick wool coats and scarves; and there she was, in clothes that seemed more fit for a summer night on the beach.

“Can we… talk?” she says, softly.

“Yeah,” you answer. “My place is right around the corner.”

She smiles. It’s happy and sad at the same time, somehow. Her eyes glisten, as though on the verge of tears she wasn’t quite willing to shed. There’s a small quiver in her lip. There are words there, you think, right there on her lips, and she’s doing her best to hold on to them until the time is right.

“I’d like that,” she says, eventually. She reaches out her hand. You take it, and lead her home.

---

“I never noticed these before,” she says, gesturing toward the framed pictures sitting on a wall-mounted shelf. They’re pictures of you with friends and family. A road trip. Graduation. A photo of your beer league hockey team, having just won your championship trophy. A shot of you and your friend Joey, eyes red after a long night of drinking and related shenanigans - although the photo is blurry and out of focus, and you weren’t sure what the hell was on his head.

“You’re never here long,” you answer with a smile, handing her a cup of warm water. “We don’t usually spend much time here outside of the bedroom. And the shower, I guess.”

Tzuyu smiles to herself as she takes a sip of the water. “I’m sorry,” she says, eventually, eyes still gazing at the faces in the photos and the frozen memories they captured. “I should know more about you than I do,” she admits, although she is silent afterward, as though she had just said something out loud that she shouldn’t have.

The two of you stand there in silence, staring at the framed memories. It was only a moment, but it felt longer than it did. You wonder if there was a world where she was there in those photos with you, sharing smiles, sharing memories, a moment of your lives together captured in film and paper to adorn your shelf. You wonder if she was your girlfriend in those photos, or your fiance, or your wife. You wonder if that world was still in your reach. 

No, you remind yourself. It wasn’t, given what she’d told you about her co-worker the night before. That world was closed off to you now, the door to it slammed shut. You wonder if it was ever open to begin with.

“Tzuyu,” you begin. Even as you say her name you weren’t quite sure what to say next. 

She doesn’t look away from the photos. She cradles the cup of water in both hands, next to her lips.

“...why are you here?” you ask.

She frowns for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she speaks, she is still facing the photos, as though afraid of what she’d find in your eyes.

“I told you I was going to call him tomorrow,” she says, softly. “That guy… that I… that I have feelings for. The guy I want to be with.” Her hand pulls her phone out of her back pocket. The screen seems ridiculously bright in the relative dimness of your living room. On its lock screen you see the time - 11:58pm.

Her eyes lift, finally finding yours. That smile again - happy and sad at the same time. There’s a small movement in her lips, as though she wants to say something, but decides against it. The unspoken words fill the space between you - heavy, oppressive. You want to pluck them out of the air and either make them real or tear them apart into nothingness; anything to get rid of the overbearing weight of them in the space between you.

You want to ask her what she could possibly want from you, given what she’d told you not even an hour ago. Another quick fuck, advice on what she should say to this guy tomorrow? Was she just bored? Lonely? Or…

Did she come here for you?

Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize what might be. Perhaps that world wasn’t so out of reach after all, the door not quite shut. 

Perhaps there was room on that shelf for more pictures.

The clock on her phone strikes midnight. She looks down at it for a moment, her thumb making a couple of presses on its screen. She presses the phone to her ear.

In your back pocket, your phone vibrates.

You answer her call.

“Hey,” she says.

---

It hits you all at once - the realization, the truth, the emotions. You’re moving toward her, your phones dropping from your respective hands - if they made a sound when they thumped on the floor you didn’t hear it. Her glass of water disappears too, gone from her hands and left on the shelf, or dropped and spilled on the floor - it didn’t matter. All that exists is her, and the need to touch her, kiss her.

Your lips find each other, and her arms wrap around your neck, pulling you close. The kiss is hurried, passionate. You’d kissed her more times than you could possibly count and yet this still feels unlike all the others.

“You,” she gasps, between kisses. “You. It’s you.”

You curse yourself for not picking up on the signs, for not realizing that every moment you’d spent at her apartment earlier in the night was a moment she was trying to tell you how she really felt. You curse yourself for not understanding her. For not hearing what she had to say.

But it didn’t matter anymore. None of it did. All that mattered was the here and now.

You’re so fervent, so needy with your kisses that she eventually backs up against the floor-to-ceiling windows that make up one side of your apartment. Your tongues duel. Your hands wander. 

“Tzuyu,” you manage to gasp, breathlessly. “I’m sorry,” you add, not quite sure why - but it felt like the right thing to say, somehow. “I didn’t know. I should’ve…”

You trail off, but she understands what you mean, if the small, soft nod she gives you is any indication. She looks up at you with those large, deep brown eyes of hers and in that moment you realize she understands you, all of you. She knows what you mean to say, even if you don’t actually say it. You curse yourself for the millionth time that you didn’t understand her nearly as much as she understood you.

“It’s okay,” she says, softly, so softly you could barely hear the words as they leave her lips. “It’s okay. As long as you know now. I want you. I’ve only ever wanted you.”

“And that co-worker of yours-”

“Doesn’t fucking exist,” she says, with a smile and a scoff as she smacks you playfully on the shoulder. “I was trying to get you to finally confess your undying love for me, you big dummy,” she adds. Just as she finishes her sentence her lip quivers, as though she realizes she said something she shouldn’t have. Her eyes are glassy, tears forming at their corners. 

“You could’ve just asked me to say it,” you answer. The words leave your mouth before you knew you were saying them.

She looks up at you, eyes searching yours for something.

“Say it, then,” she says, the request seeming loud and booming in the sudden silence of the room. “Say it for me.”

The moment stretches - out into infinity - as your eyes look deep into Chou Tzuyu’s.

“I love you, Tzuyu.”

Her face suddenly becomes fragile, soft, as though your words shattered a part of her. Her lips curl into a broken, sad smile. She kisses you, and brings her lips to your ear.

“I love you too. I always have.”

You’re kissing again, your bodies finding each other in the way they had on many a lonely night, over the few years that you’d known each other. But it’s different this time, because somewhere amidst the dueling tongues and wandering hands, there is genuine affection. It mixes with the lust, turns it into something more powerful, more intoxicating and irresistible. 

Your need for more of her causes you to step forward involuntarily, and you break the kiss to look into her half-lidded eyes and pull her toward the bedroom, but she has other ideas. Her eyes never leaving yours, she takes your hand in hers and takes steps back toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that line one end of your living room.

Eventually, her back touches the window. Your arms slide around her small waist, and hers find themselves around your neck.

“Here,” she says, “where everyone can see who I want to be with. Who I chose.”

There was nowhere else in the world where you wanted to be with her more. Chou Tzuyu was yours, finally yours, and you wanted everyone to see it. Everyone to know.

Something like a sigh leaves your lips - a sigh of powerlessness, perhaps - an involuntary, wordless sound that was your only reaction to hearing words you’d never thought you would. Your lips find hers - hungry, needy for her - and your arms pull her lower body close. Her hands wind through your hair. They dig into your scalp. 

Your hands pull at her shirt, and then she’s raising her hands and she’s topless and she’s yours, finally, fucking finally, for real this time.

You hear her gasp as her naked back presses against the cold glass of the window. You see the glint of need in her lidded eyes, the quiver in her lower lip as she tucks it beneath a tooth and bites down. You see it all, feel it all, and she’s there, she’s yours. Chou Tzuyu is finally yours.

Your lips find hers again before they trace a path down her jawline to her long neck - a path you’d traced many a time before. But it’s different this time, as though she were a different girl suddenly, one you’d never been with. Every touch of your lips on hers is electric, each one sending a little jolt of pleasure up both of your spines. 

Her mouth is next to your ear and every kiss you leave on her neck and upper chest earns you a small, wordless gasp that sounds like music. You knew her voice well, had heard it sigh and moan and say all manner of filth in the throes of lust and passion; but tonight it sounds new, novel, like a song you knew well from the radio being heard live for the first time.

Your kisses reach the tops of her breasts and you’re bending your neck now, finding one of her nipples in your mouth and suckling. The gasps filling your ears turn into moans and the pinpricks her nails leave in your scalp deepen, turn into furrows as the pleasure courses through her body in greater and greater waves. Your hands find a full thigh as she wraps it around your hip and you’re half-lifting her up with your palm on your ass cheek, bringing her breast closer to your needy mouth. She arches her back, gives more of herself to you, and you take everything she has to give.

You want to devour her - suck deeply from her other breast, drop to your knees and part her thighs and drink from her - but she has other ideas, other needs, and they compete with and beat yours. She cups your face in her hands, pulls it from her breast and to her lips, where she kisses you deeply. Her hands work at your pants with practiced fingers while your lips duel and suddenly your cock is in her warm palms and it’s your turn to gasp breathlessly into her mouth.

She breaks the kiss, eyes finding yours. There’s nothing but need there, in those dark brown pools, and while you’ve seen that look before it never failed to take your breath away. Her eyes remain locked on yours even as she drops slowly, torturously to her knees, even as she bends her neck and her tongue darts out to touch the base of your cock as she swipes a long, languid lick up your length to your tip. 

Only when she slides the length of your cock into her mouth do her eyes leave yours, her eyelids fluttering closed as she takes you between her wet, slick lips. Your eyes follow suit, shutting involuntarily, as though the sight of her on her knees might be too much for your brain to handle. You reach out with a hand to steady yourself against the cold glass of the window as Tzuyu begins to take you in and out of her mouth in a slow, steady pace, her lips wrapped tight against your length, her hand pumping what she can’t take between her lips.

She knew just how to pleasure you, knew from experience in your bedrooms and movie theatres and the backseats of cars how to bring you to your peak in a matter of minutes. But this was not one of those nights, not one of those hurried, emotionless expressions of lust and need that were fleeting, temporary, empty. She takes her time, working you in and out of her wet, slick mouth, relishing every entry and exit, relishing the salty, musky taste of you on her tongue.

You stare out past your window, out at the bright lights of the city and the snow piling atop balconies and stairs and rooftops. You glance at the party across the street, the same one you’d just left, and the thought of someone there seeing you here, now, with Tzuyu - it sends a thrill up your spine, one that is only heightened when Tzuyu closes her lips around the head of your cock and swirls her tongue around your tip. All the while she is pumping your length with her fist, the slickness of her spit on it creating a delicious friction. 

You sigh deeply, and it fogs the window in front of you, blurring the image of the city. You wipe at it with your hand. You want them to see. You want everyone to see.

Tzuyu pumps her hand faster, her tongue continuing its merciless swirling around your tip. You shut your eyes involuntarily.

Your free hand finds her scalp, fingers sliding between the chocolate strands of her hair and guiding her as she continues to pleasure you. You tear your eyes open, watching her, as though somehow by doing so you could convince yourself this was all real, was really happening. 

She opens her eyes, as if sensing you watching her, and she lets your cock slip from between her lips. Her tongue darts out and she places your tip on the flat of it. Her hand continues to pump the length of your cock. You watch as her free hand finds her own naked breasts, and begins to tease and pinch her own nipple. She wants you to cum, now, on her tongue and on her face. She wants to taste you, feel you on her skin.

It was almost too much, then and there. And as pleasurable and sublime as it would have been to let go, to fill her wanting, waiting mouth with your cum you knew you never would have forgiven yourself if you’d left it at that.

Your hand reaches down, your fingers finding her hand wrapped around your cock, and she knows what it means, knows what you’re telling her. She stops pumping, her fingers leaving your length almost reluctantly. She places one last kiss on your tip before rising to her feet.

Her eyes are locked on yours as she undoes the button of those ridiculous, tiny cotton shorts she is wearing. The zipper sounds almost too loud in the silence of your apartment as she tugs it down, loosening the flimsy garment and letting it fall first to her thighs, then down her legs until it’s on the floor. She kicks it away from her.

She turns around, faces the window. The lights of the city beyond gleam around her, surrounding her like a golden, glimmering halo of white, red, and green. She places her palms flat on the cold glass and looks over her shoulder at you. She spreads her feet on the floor slightly. Her back arches, the light casting a stark relief on the curve of her spine. She reaches back with one hand, pulls a cheek of her ass to the side, presenting herself to you. The light catches on the glistening lips of her cunt.

“Like this,” she says, softly. “Fuck me like this.”

You step close. Your cock presses impatiently onto the small of her back and she gasps at the feel of it on her skin. You reach around to cup a breast, relishing the weight of it in your hand, the stiffness of her nipple against your palm.

“They’ll see,” you whisper into her ear. “Everyone will see.”

“Good,” she answers, quickly, breathlessly. “I want them to. I want them all to see who I’m with, who I chose.”

That was it, all you needed to hear. You bring the tip of your cock to her dripping opening and slide inside her, filling her to the hilt.

“It’s you, Tzuyu. You. You’re all I want,” you say, desperately, into her ear.

“I know, I know,” she responds, always knowing, always understanding you, even as you begin to slide out of her before thrusting slowly, firmly back in. “I know.”

It was the second time that night you’d been inside her and somehow it felt like the first time you’d ever been with her. Things were different now; and while you weren’t quite sure what your relationship was or where it would go from here you knew at least that much - that it was different. This was not like the other needy, lonely fucks. This was so much more.

Tzuyu is a slick, silken vice around you and your eyes shut again, your brow furrowing as you fuck her against the glass. Your hands find her hips, trace a path up her spine to her shoulder, squeeze a full, round cheek of her ass - anything to hold her in place, fix her, as you slide in and out of her warm, wet little cunt. She’s wet, so wet - her arousal and perhaps the remains of the previous load you’d left inside her earlier that evening making her so very slick around your cock. Her cunt makes wet, creamy sounds as you slide in and out and the very sound of it is enough to make your head swim.

The soft, mewling gasps that leave her lips imprint themselves in mist on the glass as every thrust into her body sends another burst of pleasure up her spine. The gasps turn into moans as you increase your pace steadily, the way she liked. 

“Fuck,” she says, “Fuck. Yes, fuck me.”

You want to respond, want to tell her with words just how tight and wet she is, how wonderful she feels wrapped around your cock - but the feel of her is too much, robbing you of the ability to form coherent thoughts, much less words. Instead you tell her with your actions, ones you knew she would understand - the tightening of your grip on her shoulder and on her hip, and the deepening of each thrust into her cunt as you give her every inch of you from tip to hilt.

Her fingers scramble on the glass, nails seeking fruitlessly for something to dig into, to ground herself amidst the steadily growing pleasure. She rocks her hips back against you, meeting you thrust for thrust. Your hand finds its way into her hair, grasping a handful of it, even as she presses her head against the glass.

“Harder,” she spits, her breath fogging the smooth pane. “Harder, please. Use me. Take me, baby.”

It means something now, that word. That name for you - that name for lovers. Because now, finally, she’s yours.

Beyond her, the lights of the city twinkle - street lamps, Christmas lights, room lights from living rooms across the street. It paints her arched back and the globes of her ass in a multitude of swirling colors and she seems surreal, a painting, a work of art, right here in your hands. You try to focus on the way the lights move on her skin, a living canvas with moving paint - anything to distract yourself from the pleasure that was building a little too fast. You try anything to make this last just one moment longer, even as you know that control is already slipping from your fingers.

Tzuyu doesn’t share your need to prolong the moment, not when the allure of the pleasure coursing through her veins and the imminent climax it promised was too strong. For a few long, wonderful seconds she throws her hips back at you, eager for more of you, more of the stretch, the stiffness, the feeling of fullness you give her with each stroke. You know you’re hitting that spot inside her, just the way she loved. Her moans reach a new pitch. Her cunt tightens, drips more of her juices onto the base of your cock and down your balls.

“Cumming,” she hisses, just a moment before the pulsating of her cunt and the trembling of her limbs tells you that she does.

You continue to thrust into her, harder, even as the silken vice of her pussy pulsates and squeezes around you. You fuck her through her orgasm, which was something you rarely did, because usually you wanted to stay there hilt-deep inside her and just relish the sight and feel of Chou Tzuyu mid-orgasm; but a part of you tonight wanted to stake your claim on her, wanted to make her yours in a way she hadn’t been before.

“Fuck,” she hisses, mid-orgasm, as you continue to fuck her against the unyielding glass. Her upper chest pressed is against it now, breasts surely pressed flat against its cold surface. She, too, wasn’t used to being fucked through an orgasm - but she couldn’t deny the way it prolonged the aftershocks of her orgasm, the way every thrust of your stiff cock lengthened the shocks of pleasure still winding their way through her body. “Fuck, don’t stop,” she spits, brain still addled with the sensations radiating from her core, still seeking any way to prolong them, get more of them.

And so you don’t. How could you? How could anyone, deep inside the most beautiful woman on earth, and with the knowledge that she was finally yours lending each movement, each feeling, each sensation a weight that simply wasn’t there before?

You feel your orgasm building in the pit of your belly, know that despite your best efforts that this moment had to end. You never wanted it to. This was a much shorter session than even any of the many quickies you’d shared together and yet somehow it meant much more than any of them.

“Cum in me please,” she hisses, turning her head to look over her shoulder at you, as though she could sense by the erratic nature of your thrusts and the quivering of your grip on her shoulder that you were nearing your peak. She knew you so well. She knew everything about you, whether you wanted her to or not. She understood you in ways you didn’t even understand yourself.

“Tzuyu,” you say, because her name is all you can say. Her name is all you know, because she is all you know.

“Cum in me,” she repeats, a solemn request that on any other night - or even earlier in this one - would have taken the form of a lustful, wanton plea. But now she whispers it, quiet and reverent, almost hopeful, less a demand and more like a solemn request. “Please, baby. Please, make me yours.”

You never wanted anything more than that.

You press yourself as deep as you can inside Chou Tzuyu’s body and suddenly you’re cumming, filling her with you. She sighs and moans softly with each pulse of your cock, knowing that each one signalled another part of you that you were leaving inside her.

Your hand slides around her quivering upper body, finding her jaw, then her chin. You gently turn her head to meet yours, and you’re kissing, passionately, softly. You give her a few small, short thrusts into her cum-filled cunt, and you relish the sighs of pleasure that leave her mouth and fill yours. After a while you stop, still hilt-deep inside her. You feel the slick wetness between your bodies, slick and sticky, binding you together.

Your lips part. For a few long moments you watch each other, eyes finding something in each other that wasn’t there even a few minutes before; something that had always been there, perhaps, in the corners of your minds. For a few years it was kept hidden by a fear of rejection. But now, here it was, out in the open.

“Baby,” she says, softly. That name, again.

“Yes?” you answer, breathless, knowing you could answer to it freely, openly, without hiding any pain behind what it meant. Her lips curl into a smile as you answer to it.

“I could use some water.”

---

You return with a glass of water - her second. You suppose she never really got the chance to finish the first one.

“Tzuyu,” you say, softly, barely at a whisper, still somehow unable to say anything more than her name, so consumed by the thought of her, the idea of her. You hand her the glass. She takes it into her hands, giving you a smile as she takes a sip. 

She’s standing in front of the shelf with the pictures again, fully dressed, which was a little odd, given you were only away for a few seconds at most. You find yourself appreciating those shorts again, and the way they hugged the curves they just barely hid behind green cotton.

“You’re wondering why I’m wearing what I’m wearing,” she says, evidently having felt your eyes on her. She knew you. “Kind of silly to be wearing a t-shirt and the world’s tiniest pair of shorts out here in the middle of winter, isn’t it?”

“A little,” you admit. “It is pretty chilly out. But-”

“You know why,” she says, with a hint of something heavy in her tone. 

You ponder her words in silence. Something in the air changes - small, almost imperceptible, but undeniable nonetheless. A slight, tiny little shift.

The moments stretch out. Something between seconds and centuries pass, but you aren’t quite sure. At the end of it, you come to a realization. You knew why. Perhaps a small part of you, from the second you returned to the party, knew why.

Nonetheless, you ask. You had to know. You had to hear it from her.

“...why, Tzuyu?”

She takes another small sip of water. She looks up at you with a sad smile. Almost nothing else in the world could have broken your heart the way that smile did. Only the words that left her mouth next could have hurt more.

“...It’s because this isn’t really happening.”

---

“...What?” you say, even as you know, in your heart of hearts, that she’s right. Perhaps a small part of you had always known. Nothing this night seemed quite right, no matter how much you wanted it to be so.

“These clothes - I’m wearing them because they’re what I wore that night. The last time we were… together. They’re the clothes you remember me wearing the most.”

“...what? Tzuyu, I don’t understand-”

There is a sharp cracking sound, like someone snapping a thick twig or branch in two. You turn to find a sharp fault line appearing in your apartment wall. You watch as it deepens and spreads, and as others appear in the corners of your room. The floor is suddenly uneven, unstable. It wobbles. Your balance is thrown off, your feet unsure. You turn your attention back to Tzuyu, as though the sight of her could ground you in a reality you were no longer sure was real.

The glass of water in her hands is gone. Her eyes are sad, crestfallen, as though she were delivering news to someone who knew already what it was but was fearing its arrival all the same.

“...It’s kind of silly that I somehow knew where your party was, isn’t it?” she continues. “Think about it: you never told me where it was or who was throwing it, but I still found you.”

Every word that left her lips is heavy, hits you hard, as though it were a physical force. The truth hurt.

Your brow furrows as your brain scrambles to make sense of it all, but your mind is foggy. You try to find excuses or explanations for the night’s events, but answers elude you. 

“I know where you live, and it’s definitely not in this neighborhood,” she continues, taking a short glance out the window that you were both pressed against just moments before. The window is open now, and you can see clearly through it, as though there was no glass there at all. Beyond the window frame you can see the neighborhood around the building - and it seems foreign, completely different from the one you lived in. “You live on the other side of town, and yet at the party, you said you live right around the corner.” 

“Tzuyu, please,” you begin, as though you were about to beg her to stop. You didn’t want her to continue. You wanted to stay here, false reality or not. You wanted to stay here, in this pretend world, where she was yours-

“That’s because this never happened,” she adds, turning back to you. “None of this happened. You just happened to see me in line at the airport, and-” 

“That… no,” you say, unwilling to believe her, even if you knew she was right. The walls of your apartment begin to flake, like dried paint from an old wall, except behind it there is nothing but black emptiness. After a while, the emptiness begins to take shape, but it looks blurry and distant - dull colors, a pale green carpet. Kiosks and baggage. Rows of seats filled with the shapes of weary travellers waiting for flights. An airport.

“You’re not… you’re crazy, Tzuyu. This is real, this is happening. You said- you said I was the one, the one you wanted to be with!” you say, suddenly angry, suddenly upset at having this sweet, perfect world torn away from you, right when it was finally yours. Right when she was finally yours. Your hands ball into fists. Your brow furrows, and your teeth clench. Something like rage courses through your veins. Behind your eyes, tears form, although whether from sadness or anger, you weren’t quite sure.

The shelf with your framed pictures falls off the wall, down into the darkness, and along with it any chance of her ever having a place amongst them.

“She’s waiting for you,” she says, looking upward at the wide cracks in the ceiling, at the hazy airport terminal taking shape just outside the walls. She sees something or someone only she can see, and the corners of her lips curl into a sad smile. “You can hear her calling, can’t you?”

“Who?”

“Her,” she answers. You can hear it now - a female voice, one that sounded both familiar and strange. It’s repeating a single word, two syllables. It’s a name, but not yours. A pet name for lovers. One that Tzuyu used for you, even if it hurt you to hear it.

The floor has begun to shake, back and forth, as though some giant was shaking the building gently. The woman’s voice continues to call for you.

“I hear it,” you admit. The shaking intensifies slightly. The walls tighten, as though the giant’s grip was tightening on your apartment. “Who is she?”

 “The girl you met at the party. This same night. The one that you’ll-”

“Tzuyu,” you say, again, desperate now that you knew what this was, what was happening, even if you wished with every part of your heart that it weren’t so. Time was running out. This world, this vision, this dream, whatever it was - it was falling apart. “Please. Tell me. I need to know.”

“What?” she asks. The floor has begun to fall away, leaving only small patches of unconnected carpet. You’re standing on separate islands now.

“That night. I need to know what you said. What you said before I left. Please.”

She smiles. You would call it sad, her smile, but you knew that no words could possibly capture the depth of the emotion that you saw there. It’s the same one she had that night, when you left her apartment, when she said those words. That face was etched in your memory, engraved on your heart, and here it was again, a painful wound reopened.

“Tzuyu!” you shout, “-please. If… if I’d stayed that night, would we still be together? Would we… please, what did you say?”

Her lips part.

The world shatters. The last of the apartment falls away into nothingness. You’re suddenly falling.

---

You hear a voice, initially dull and far away, but rapidly increasing in volume, as though its source was coming closer and closer to you.

“Baby,” the voice says - female, sweet, but concerned. “Baby, are you okay?”

The words are loud, almost intrusive, and for a moment you want whoever is speaking them to stop, to leave, to let you fall further into the abyss, into a pit of loneliness and regret.

But then you remember who the voice belongs to. The memory brings you back. 

“Hey,” she says, and you feel her hand on your forearm. Her grip is firm, but familiar, as though she were someone you knew.

Your eyes open. The artificial, fluorescent light of the airport is almost painful to your tired, weary eyes. It’s not a dream. It’s reality, and for a few moments, reality hurts, in more ways than just the physical.

“Hey,” she repeats, and you turn to look at her. She seems blurry, her features indistinct.

“Baby,” she says, that word, that name that only she called you. It meant more in that moment than she would ever know, because in that moment it is all you needed to hear - a lifeline that you hold on to and grasp, one that brings you back to the real world. You hold on to it. Her voice is a talisman. A candle in the window, guiding you home.

Her face becomes clear, the blur disappearing and revealing a face you’d come to know, come to love. Her name forms on your lips, and you whisper it like a prayer.

“Kazuha.” 

“I’m right here, baby,” she says, worried. “What’s wrong? You looked like you were having a nightmare.”

Nightmare was one way to put it. You close your eyes, bring your hand to your forehead in an attempt to rub away the small sparks of pain and discomfort lingering behind your eyes as they re-adjust to reality. Beside you, Nakamura Kazuha reaches to stroke the back of your head, worry clear in her soft features.

“I’m okay, Zuha,” you say, even if you didn’t fully believe it yet. You return to using her nickname - you only ever used her full name in serious situations, which likely contributed to her concern. Your eyes find hers and you find comfort there, and strength, and more than a little relief. “I was just… I just had a dream.”

“About what?” she says, genuine concern in her eyes. She turns the blue baseball cap she wore around on her head, allowing you a deeper look at the worry on her delicate features. She looks tired and exhausted from the previous night, but even without an ounce of makeup and with a worried look on her face she’s still beautiful, still radiant amidst the dull grayness of the airport and the travellers within it.

“Nothing,” you say, with a weak smile. “I was… dreaming about the night we met.”

Satisfied that you were okay, Kazuha lets a small scoff escape her lips before they curl into a nostalgic smile. “It was a pretty crazy night,” she responds. “I mean, as far as Inbetween-Christmas-and-New-Years parties go.”

“It really was,” you agree, more than she would ever know.

“Who throws a party between Christmas and New Years, anyway?” she continues. “Everyone’s too fat on Christmas food and running on empty social batteries. Those days are for staying at home and living off of chocolate and cheese until the New Year.”

You chuckle. She squeezes your hand in hers. A thoughtful look finds its way onto her face. She hands you one of the two drinks she’d bought from the nearby Starbucks that she’d spent far too long in the lineup for. You take a sip, suddenly realizing how thirsty you were. You would’ve killed for a large bottle of cold water, but you supposed the coffee was good too. All of the drinks from the night before had left you dehydrated - people just wouldn’t stop pushing shots into your hands the whole night. Poor Joey ended up taking a lot of them for you, but such was the duty of the best man, and he took them all like a champ - even if he was likely paying for it now.

“I’m not sure if I ever told you this, but I almost didn’t go to that party,” she continues. “My friend needed someone to go with her, and she dragged me along.”

“Thank god you did,” you say, genuinely.

“Thank god I did,” she repeats, warm smile on her lips. “I wasn’t planning to stay for long. Maybe a drink or two before an Irish goodbye. I was just about to head out when I saw you come back to the party.”

“So you were into me from the start, huh?”

“Maybe,” she admits with a shy smile. “I was going to find you to talk to you more after your friend introduced us, but you disappeared for a bit. Good thing you came back, or who knows where you’d be right now?”

You smile. Behind your eyes, in a place she can’t see, tears form.

“We were meant to be,” you say, voice shakier than you’d anticipated.

“Meant to be,” she repeats, softly. 

The smile on her lips warms your heart, chases away the cold. Your hand finds hers. Your fingers intertwine. 

Your thumb brushes over the wedding band on her ring finger.

An announcement goes out over the airport’s PA system. Kazuha gives your hand another squeeze before rising to her feet, pulling you along with her.

“That’s us,” she says, suddenly joyful. There is a happiness in her eyes and in the smile on her lips that you want to keep forever, want to make into a patch to place over the scars the past has left on your heart. “Come on, baby. Let’s go rock this honeymoon. Maybe we can discuss consummating this marriage while we’re on the plane, because I’m not sure if I can wait until we get to the hotel room,” she adds, with a playful wink.

You smile - she always knew how to make you smile. In that moment you appreciate her, love her more than she will ever know. Your lip quivers with emotion as you look at her. She pulls you to your feet and toward the growing lineup by the airport gate.

You glance one last time at the coffee lineup - the last place you would ever see her. You learned later from a mutual friend that she’d married someone she worked with, and moved overseas. You’d never see her again.

Kazuha follows your gaze. “What’s wrong?” she asks. “See someone you know?”

You take a moment to think, to feel. You feel it all - the past, heavy and difficult with emotion about a path never taken, words never heard. It hits all at once, the events of a night years in the past, a night you’d thought you’d moved beyond and left behind. You see the dream now for what it is - that small part of your soul that asks, might always ask, what might have been.

You take a deep breath, letting the thoughts and emotions of that night swirl one last time around you. 

And then you leave it there, in the past, where it belongs.

“No,” you answer, the word filled with a conviction that you didn’t know you possessed until that moment. You look down at your new wife, and find the future in her eyes. “Only you, Kazuha.”

She smiles at you, and it burns away the last of the lingering pain and sadness. It melts from your heart like winter snow before a new spring morning, leaving only the warmth of your love for her. She’s all that matters now, all that ever will.

Some hours later, you join her on a beach, her hand in yours, the sand between your toes and the sea breeze light in your hair.

The day is warm.

---

Author’s Note: Love lost was still love.

[inlovewithl3vi]

You stood in front of the large wall of nail polish in Asmos room, trying to find a color that would suit you for the week until you would eventually have to change it again. You go through the different options of all the colors until something catches your eye.

Eight bottles of polish, neatly lined in a seemingly specific order. Of course you know why they're in their own little spot away from the rest. It's the polish each of the brothers use.

Starting at the red Lucifer wears and ending at the blue Belphie wears. Each brother having their own unique color that matches them, of course with the exception of Asmo who likes to have two colors on his nails.

You can't help but giggle to yourself when you pick up the white bottle, smiling as you walk back to your room and begin to paint your nails.

The next day Mammon notices immediately.

Although he'd never admit it, he secretly looks forward to Monday morning when he gets to see what color you picked for the week. He can't help but feel a little pride that vou wanted to match with him.

For the rest of the day he goes on and on about how "of course ya would wanna match with the great mammon!" And telling everyone that his human just was so taken aback by his greatness that you wanted to be like him. And although this wasn't the case, you let him have his fun.

The problems only started that next Sunday night, when your nail polish was chipped and needed to be fixed meaning you had to pick a new color.

And as you walked into Asmos room you noticed he was there this time. Of course you said hello and explained you were just stopping by to try a new color. But this time he insisted he had to pick It.

And of course you knew what he was doing when he reached towards that bottom shelf. He pushes two bottles into your hands, one a shiny green and one a shiny pink. Obviously they were his colors, but you didn't mind.

And that night you went in your room and painted your nails, waiting until the next morning to show Asmo. The next morning he couldn't shut up about how cute it was that you two were matching and that you two absolutely had to hold hands throughout the day just to show everyone that you're matching!

But that week came and went and once again you had to repaint your nails. And this time you decided to go with Lucifer's color, a nice red that looked nice on you.

Lucifer wasn't the one to notice that morning since he had official business, or at least so he said. But Satan definitely noticed.

He started complaining about how you would wanna match with Lucifer and not him. Eventually Belphie joined in, complaining about how you could have chosen him or Beel over Lucifer.

Obviously they had noticed the trend and all wanted to be next. Eventually mammon joined in, originally trying to stop them from arguing or complaining too much but accidentally turned them against one another.

Before you knew it the brothers are all fighting over the color of your nails.

Eventually Lucifer does come back, and thankfully stops the fight. And for the next four weeks you were on a schedule of what Cole you could paint your nails and who you were matching with.

At the end of the four weeks you breathed a sigh of relief, wiping off the bright blue on your nails and picking a black polish a nice neutral color that nobody could possibly have a problem with.

The only thing was, you forgot Diavolo paints his nails black.

[brainlicking]

~Grimm's Fairy Tales~

@darksideweeks Remus week day 1! (bonus prompt)

Starting off the week with a bang! The original "The Willful Child" Grimm's story ends with the arm retreating back into the earth after being struck by the mother, the child "finally being at rest".

This version goes a little differently. Because as we all know, repression does not work >:)

Image ID under the cut

[ID: A five page digital Sanders Sides comic with the brainlicking.tumblr signature in the middle of each page between the bottom panels.

All pages are black, the panel borders and text are white.

Page 1 - Panel 1: In green lineart, a closeup of Remus Sanders with his hands holding his own face, staring with big wide eyes at the viewer.

TEXT: "Once upon a time, there was a child who was willful."

Page 1 - Panel 2: In green lineart, Remus is standing with his morning-star in his right hand over a shattered heart drawn in light blue lineart.

TEXT: "He would not do as the Father asked."

Page 1 - Panel 3: A flower with a pink center and seven petals coloured yellow, orange, red, purple, indigo, blue and green. A realistically coloured hand is pulling the green petal off of the flower.

TEXT: "For this reason, God took no pleasure in him-"

Page 1 - Panel 4: The plucked green petal is falling.

TEXT: "-and let him become ill."

Page 2 - Panel 1: Closeup of Remus, he is falling backward to the right of the panel, looking to the side in wide-eyed fear. A red shackle around his neck and pulling him back.

TEXT: "And in a short time, he lay on his deathbed."

Page 2 - Panel 2: Faraway shot of Remus falling through a rectangular hole into darkness, the red shackle and chain pulling him further down. Remus is reaching upward with his right arm.

TEXT: "He was lowered into his grave."

Page 2 - Panel 3: A gravestone with dirt spread over it, in green lineart. One the grave is the image of a red padlock.

TEXT: "And earth was spread over him."

Page 2 - Panel 4: Low, side-view of the grave, Remus' arm has burst through the dirt.

TEXT: "Suddenly, his arm came out again and stretched upwards.

Page 3 - Panel 1: A different side-view of the grave in green, with the red padlock. Dirt spread over the grave again.

TEXT: "They put it back in and spread fresh earth over it."

Page 3 - Panel 2: Same view of the grave in the previous panel, only now Remus' arm has come up from the grave from below the elbow, and is resting on the earth.

TEXT: "But it was no use."

Page 3 - Panel 3: Same view of the grave in the previous panel. Remus' arm is gone and a larger pile of dirt is spread over the grave.

TEXT: "No matter how many times they did this."

Page 3 - Panel 4: Same view of the grave in the previous panel, only now Remus' arm has come up from the grave from below the elbow, and is resting on the earth.

TEXT: Every time, the arm would come out again.

Page 4 - Panel 1 : View from behind the grave, in light blue lines is Patton standing over the headstone.

TEXT: "Until the Father himself was obliged to come to the grave."

Page 4 - Panel 2 : Side view of Patton's left, he has raised in his right hand a rod, in purple lines with stitching patterns, above his head.

TEXT: "He raised a rod-"

Page 4 - Panel 3 : Closeup of Remus' hand being struck by the purple rod. Light blue and purple action lines emphasizing the strike.

TEXT: "And struck the arm!"

Page 4 - Panel 4 : Remus' arm grasps the rod.

TEXT: "But the rod was grabbed."

Page 5 - Panel 1 : Side shot of Remus' hand still holding tight to the rod, his head rising from the dirt.

TEXT: "And the willful child."

Page 5 - Panel 2 : Side shot continuing from the last panel. Remus is head and shoulders out of the grave, dirt falling from him.

TEXT: "Pulled himself."

Page 5 - Panel 3 : Shot looking down to the grave. Remus' left arm is reaching up past the viewer, his right arm, pushing against the earth beneath him. Remus is out of the grave from the waist-up.

TEXT: "From his grave."

Page 5 - Panel 4 : A wicked smile in green, lined with long sharp teeth. Framed by green text that reads, "Have you ever imagined killed your brother?"

End ID]

[mentally-gone002]

Now That You’re Here

Summary: Eddie and you were childhood friends, but when you move away due to the death of your uncle Benny (yes benny from S1) that leaves Eddie alone for a few years until he hits high school. However, one day when he’s taking a drive past the old burger place he notices it’s all fixed up and there are cars in the lot and sees a familiar face leaving the building.

Warnings: none to report!!!

A/N: heyyyyy guys!!!! I’m back… after almost a year lmao😔😔😔 anyway… i promised yall an Eddie fic and im finally delivering!! I lowkey might make this into a series because of the way the ending is so… enjoy!!! I will be putting out more stuff just not as frequently as last year I fear idk tho! Anyway, enjoy!!!!!

————————————————————————

The road stretches on for much longer than Eddie rememberers as he drives faster than he should. His speakers are straining as they emit the loud instrumental part of the song he’s listening to and he drums his fingers against the top of the steering wheel. 

The full green trees blur past as his speedometer climbs upwards. A bug splats on his windshield as he turns a small bend and he turns on his windshield wipers. His eyes aren’t on the road for a few seconds but when he looks back he finds a car turning out in front of him. He slams on the breaks as to avoid rear ending the vehicle. 

“Go!” He tells the car as it slowly gains speed. He pressed on the gas and looks to the left where the car pulled out of a parking lot. 

A neon sign is glowing green in the window, telling the world they are “open” while cars are parked in almost every parking space. 

Eddie furrows his brows and focuses on the building for the time he can as he keeps driving. 

The exterior is painted a dark blue with white trim on the windows and the sign above the door is still red like it always has been, reading “Benny’s Burgers”

He quickly looks down at the doors once more with strained eyes to watch a young woman, who is his age, exit through the front door with a contempt smile. He recognizes her and looks forwards. He knows her but he doesn’t know from where. 

————————————————————————

Hours later when he’s working on his van, uncle Wayne pulls into the gravel driveway and gets out of his car. 

“Hi, Ed.” He greets. 

Eddie waves with his hand that isn’t working inside of the engine, though it’s still smeared with black grease that is sure to leave a stain. “Hey. Where were you?” He wonders as he looks down at the engine once more. 

Wayne approaches to stand nearby. He sighs in contempt before he speaks. “Benny’s Burger’s.” He holds up a paper bag with the small beginnings of a grease stain at the bottom. “They’re back open believe it or not. And with the same family, being run by the brother of that friend of yours who moved away some years back.” He looks away in thought, not paying any mind to how Eddie hits his head on the hood upon hearing of his old friend. “She’s a very nice young lady now. She graduated last year from high school down in California. She actually just bought a trailer down here a few weeks ago.” Wayne continues on. Eddie watches him speak with wide eyes and a hand pressed to the top of his head. His uncle sighs. “Anyway, I brought you dinner.” He places the paper bag on top of the toolbox nearby. “I’ll be leaving for work in about an hour.” 

Eddie watches his uncle walk off without another word, only a tired sigh and an unintentional slam of the front screen door behind him. 

He sighs with a small furrow of his brows. His hand goes up to scratch at his chin where he leaves a smudge of grease behind unknowingly. 

Is his old friend really back home? He wonders to himself with a quick turn of his head back to his engine. He grabs a tool and gets to work again, still thinking about her. He used to call her Bat, because she really liked bats. 

He glances down at his bat tattoo in distraction, accidentally nicking his hand somewhere inside the complicated metal structure. He carefully retracts his hand to examine the slice in the side of his hand right below his pinkie. Blood drops down onto the top of his headlight and he pulls a face prior to wiping the crimson liquid away. “Shit.” He mutters.

Gravel crunches behind him from the road. “Is this the Munson house?” A female voice wonders. 

Eddie turns away from the inside of his hood to face the voice, immediately meeting the eyes of a young woman in a long black skirt and a large band t-shirt. A brown leather bag hangs from her shoulder. Her hair is down and she sends him a smile.  

“Yeah, ma’am.” He nods and turns around all the way to face her. 

Her kind smile very quickly turns to relief. “Good, I didn’t want to ask the wrong person.” She approaches Eddie with a few strides. Her eyes peer at the engine for a brief moment. “Is Eddie around?” 

“I’m Eddie.” He nods at her, recognizing her now that she’s so close. She was the one he saw leaving the diner. “I didn’t know you were back.” He tells her.

Her eyes are big and curious as she studies him, and her hair dances in a slow breeze that blows through the trailer park. There are small freckles on her face and her smile is sweet and looks as if it won’t ever leave. It’s like a permanent smile, and it looks good on her.

She nods up at him, studying his face and his hair. It was short, buzzed all the way down to his scalp when she left. “You… look different.” She smiles. “In a good way, of course. Your hair.” She puts her weight on one leg and pops her hip out to the side as she stares up at him with her head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “I like the look.” 

He smiles sheepishly down at his feet for a moment as a strange feeling arises in his stomach. That isn’t people’s reaction to him, but she’s known him for years. “Thanks.” Is all he says at first. “You’ve changed too. You’re very pretty.” 

She smiles brightly and looks down at herself. “Thank you!” She reaches up to adjust her bag on her shoulder. 

Eddie leans on his van and crosses his arms across his chest. “When did you get back?” He asks her and his eyes slowly look her over.

She widens her eyes and nods as if remembering she did leave. “A few weeks ago! I stayed with my parents until Jimmy finished the restaurant and they helped me get my trailer down the way.” She answers him. “I work at Benny’s with Jimmy, and I’ve been volunteering at the animal shelter, because the cats are cute and I want one.” She smiles big and it’s contagious to Eddie, making him smile as well. He admires her rambling speech. “But yeah. How about you Ed’s, what has my ol’ pal been up to after all these years?” Her eyes wander his face in curiosity.

Eddie exhales, not realizing how much he dreaded this question. He hesitates. “Well… not much actually.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I’m in a band, we’re called Corroded Coffin and we have some gigs at the hideout sometimes. I’m taking another shot at senior year.” 

“Im sorry.” She frowns a bit and Eddie wishes he could reverse it so that the crease between your brows would go away. “Do you have a job, or need one? We have a few positions open at the restaurant if you’re interested.” Her thumb goes up to gesture behind herself. 

Eddie shrugs and scratches the back of his neck again while looking away, avoiding her sure to be confused expression. “I… do my own thing, to put it lightly. But yeah a job sounds great. I have to get this baby fixed.” He pats the side of his van twice. The sound of hollow metal thuds echo out briefly.

He watches her nod while she looks the van over. She doesn’t judge it or him and it makes him relieved. “Well, we have a dishwasher or a closing shift position open. If you want either one I’ll tell Jimmy.” 

Eddie smiles at her, which seems to be constant throughout the conversation. “How’s Jimmy?” He asks, although he’s never been fond of him. Jimmy used scare him years back, not on purpose, but that could have changed. He also wants to know how your family is.

She sighs. “Well… he’s engaged, so that’s something.” She offers a smile which gives him the impression that she doesn’t like her soon to be sister in law. “But he’s good. He’s been working very hard to get the place back up and running.” 

He nods. “Wayne said he came in earlier.” 

“Oh yeah! We talked for a while, said you were doing good but that I should come by and see you after all this time.” She smiles at him with quick nods.

Eddie nods yet again. “I’m glad you did. I had… a hard time after you left.” He admits with a sheepish smile that is directed to the ground. 

She frowns at that. “I’m sorry Ed’s.” She reaches out hesitantly to touch his forearm that is hanging at his side. He feels his skin heat where her hand touches him. When she retracts her hand she speaks. “Maybe we can go out sometime. You know like… dinner or something, tell each other about the time apart.” She shrugs her shoulders and watches his face eagerly. 

“I’d like that.” Eddie nods a bit too quickly, also eager to get to know her better now that she’s back. She’s been gone for so long and he wants to know every little thing that she did. Has she dated anyone? Does she have a boyfriend? Is she going to go to college? Is she looking for someone to date?

She’s smiles up at him excitedly and snaps him out of his trance. “Awesome! Here, I’ll give you my number so you can give me a call when you’re not busy.” She goes to dig into her bag for a pen and a small sliver of paper that is wrinkled but it will do. 

Eddie watches her write her number down before he talks as she hands the paper to him and their hands brush and he swears her skin is the softest he’s ever felt. “I’m never busy.” He laughs to himself. “Just school, the band and D&D.”

“Not a bad gig though.” She shrugs. “Call me later?” Her eyes are hopeful.

Eddie nods and folds the paper into his pocket, making sure to remember it as she slowly walks backwards from the driveway. 

“I’ll see you later, Munson.” She waves. 

He nods and says back, “I’ll see you later, Bat.” 

She laughs in remembrance of the nickname and turns away, walking down the street until she is out of view of his eyes. 

He notices how dark it’s become and decides it’s time to go inside. So he quickly shuts the hood of his van, hides the toolbox away and then takes the bag of cold food inside. 

“Have a good shift tonight Wayne.” He tells his uncle who is enjoying his last moments before the night shift. He smiles and then retreats into his bedroom. 

The bag of food is dropped onto his bed before Eddie digs into his pocket for your phone number. He quickly places the sliver of paper beside his phone. He’ll call you later, but for now he’s going to relish in the fact that you’re back in his life, and nothing has changed. Well… besides the fact that you both grew up and have grown as people. But he’s dying to know who you are now. 

[beardedjoel]

Okay then #19 from the first prompt post with sugar daddy Joel (since you're cockblocking my other genius idea 🙄) and he better be OLD old how we like it 🫡

we both know how much we love our man sd joel (and we are not talking about your other idea)! but OLD old coming right up 🤪 absolutely love this prompt and this version of joel being such a good daddy. this was healing to write tbh

yes, here — sugar daddy!joel x f!reader

request: "when the teasing in the dressing room gets a little too hot". sent in as part of my 5k celebration!

wc: 3.9k

warnings: smut (fingering, piv), public sex, daddy kink, sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship but they're in love, large age gap (implied reader is much younger and joel is "pushing sixty"), reader is picked up by joel

“Do I really have to come out… there… and show you each one?” You’re nervous, feeling exposed, as you see your reflection in the lavish dressing room. A baby blue silk thong and bra set with the matching garter belt stare back at you. It’s hugging your curves in all the right places, you’ll admit. The quality of the fabric is evident as you slide your fingers over it, adjusting the bra to make your tits sit a little perkier, tilting your head as you inspect them.

Joel smirks from outside the door, thighs spread wide as he lounges back on an expensive, plush white couch. “Well, my money, my rules, I’d say,” he teases you. “So yes.”

It wasn’t like you had that much to be worried about - Joel had rented out the entire boutique just to sample new lingerie on you. It wasn’t the first time he’d purchased lingerie for you, or given you a stack of cash to do so on your own time, but it certainly was the first time you’d had to try it on like this in front of him in public. Well, semi-public, you suppose, counting the one boutique employee who was trying to keep a casual, respectful distance. You’re sure Joel was slipping her an obscene amount of money for her discretion.

You suppress the smile on your lips at Joel’s teasing. Fair enough. What daddy says, goes. You unlock the dressing room door, stepping out, your body language shy as his eyes adjust on you, drinking in the look with lustful eyes. His lips, seemingly turned up in a perpetual smirk today, grin even wider. You step across the small open area outside the dressing room, all plush, soft cream carpets and a sparkling chandelier above, to where Joel sits, smoothing out his perfectly tailored suit.

“It’s nice. I like this one,” he concludes cooly, his voice deep and rumbly, the sexiness of it scratching a very particular itch in your brain. “Turn,” he says, spinning his fingers to mimic the motion he wants from you. You sport a timid smile, starting to turn, flushing warm as soon as you realize your ass is on full display, only a flimsy piece of silk string wedged between your asscheeks for the entire store - albeit empty - to see.

Joel leans forward, his large hand enveloping your ass cheek as he gives it an appreciative squeeze, dropping it to let it bounce. “Show me the next one,” he says, patting the flesh once more to send you on your way back to the dressing room. “That lacy black one,” Joel clarifies once the door is shut behind you.

You stare inquisitively at the rack inside the dressing room. It’s full of suggestions, pre-picked by the staff for you based on Joel’s instructions of what he was looking for. You scan the hangers until you find the one he’d requested, slipping it on. It’s a skimpy sheer black set with an embroidered trim of deep red flowers, sexier in its own right then the last one.

Joel’s positive reaction to this set is similar, his hands placed on your hips, rubbing his thumbs along your skin as you stand between his spread legs for inspection. “Very sexy. But I think I’m wantin’ to see you in somethin’ a little more… cute.”

You bat your lashes at him. “Cute? Which one, daddy?” you coo, watching his eyes darken as you shift your stance, popping your hips to accentuate your curves and bend your chest closer to Joel’s face. His eyes flick to your tits, curving deliciously out of the enticing design of the bra, the sheer material surely giving him a clear view of your nipples as they stiffen.

A tiny chuckle is pulled from his throat, his eyes back on yours. He blatantly ignores your teasing, although you can see the effect it’s already having on him, his cheeks tinged with color as his excitement grows. “Thought there was a pink one in there somewhere. Fuzzy, too,” he says, arching an eyebrow as if to say, go on then.

“Yes, daddy,” you say sweetly, obeying him to sort through the rack in the dressing room again. You see exactly the one Joel was asking to see next, standing out from the others by the sheer volume of it in comparison to some of the skimpy pieces. A flowy light pink set made up of a babydoll top opened in the front, sheer all over and lined with a soft, fuzzy trim. It’s luxurious and a little more showy than you’re used to, giving off the ultimate rich man’s housewife vibe in its tasteful extravagance. 

“You’re sure about this one? It’s… a lot…” you ask from behind the door as you slip on the pieces, tying the soft fabric of the bra into a neat bow in the center of your chest like a present to be opened by Joel. You wonder if you should even question him - it’s Joel’s money and Joel’s wishes, but you can’t help but feel this one is a little much. You surely don’t have what it takes to pull off the look of a rich housewife like he’s expecting. The other lingerie felt it suited better how you viewed yourself - a sugar baby, a fun thing for Joel to play with and throw his money at.

Joel senses the hesitation in your voice and feels the shift in the air. “I want to see it,” he reassures you, stern in his tone.

You crack open the door, stepping out into the warm white light of the chandelier once again. Joel’s eyes drag up slowly from your feet to your face, taking everything in with a ravenous sparkle in his gaze. “What’s all this? Why’re you hidin’ over there?” Joel asks when you refrain from stepping closer.

“N-nothing, daddy,” you stammer out, quickly closing the gap as if that will avoid further suspicion. His eyes narrow, and you get the feeling that like many times before, Joel is easily reading right through you. 

“You don’t think I look… ridiculous in this?” you finally manage to ask at his silent prompting. The truth is, you love the set. You think it’s gorgeous - fun but with plenty of class, pretty but for all the embellishments it still holds its elegance. You just have some strange fear prickling in your belly all of a sudden that one day Joel might wake up and realize you’re not enough for him. Not experienced enough, not worldly enough, not well versed in finances or business or any of the things that take up so much of his time. Somehow that’s all being projected onto a damn lingerie set today.

Joel cocks his head, the creases between his brows deepening. It’s so unlike you to show this lack of confidence around him. Typically, Joel makes you feel on top of the world - special - and you have no problem being the sweet, alluring woman he knows you to be. You don’t know what’s gotten into you today or why you suddenly worry you don’t fit into his life somehow.

“Ridiculous?” Joel scoffs, leaning forward. His hand grabs yours, holding it gently but with a certain authority that makes you crumble every time. “Now why the hell would you say somethin’ like that?”

You avert your eyes down to the carpet, watching your toes wiggle nervously. “I don’t know,” you mutter, finding your decision to bring this up rather regrettable now that you’re faced with it. Joel tugs your hand, forcing you as close as you can get, your shins hitting the edge of the couch, Joel’s legs on either side of you.

“Tell me, sweetheart, or I’ll bend you over my knee an’ make you,” Joel drawls, keeping his cool despite the threatening nature of his words. Tears prick at your eyes, making you even more frustrated at yourself.

“Daddy…” you whine, eyes wide. “Here?”

“I ain’t above doin’ whatever, wherever to remind you of the rules.” Joel’s grip on your hips is hasty but controlled as he moves your body, pulling you down to straddle him. His exacting gaze locks onto yours as he bunches up the sheer fabric hanging down over your ass, then brings a gentler hand than you’d expected to your flesh, giving it a light smack. You pull your lip between your teeth, biting down softly as Joel does it again, cocking a brow at your continuing silence. You both know that even through the discomfort, the threat of his actions, it turns both of you on, and you can feel your core start to pulse with need in the background of the self doubt you’re feeling.

“I ain’t afraid to go harder,” he growls. 

Your eyes well up when he smacks again, harsher this time, enough to leave a bit of a mark, and you finally find yourself breaking down. “I look like I’m trying to be someone I’m not, okay?” you blurt out, sniffling.

“An’ who’s that you’re tryin’ to be, hm?” Joel asks, calm and curious, his free hand carefully grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, keeping you from tilting your head away from his probing stare.

“S-someone who belongs in your world. Aren’t you just going to get sick of me one day? Realize you want someone that people won’t look at like they do me? Someone… sensible.”

“You got all this from a piece of lingerie, princess?” Joel asks, rubbing your ass in lazy circles. He sighs, softening. “I’m not doin’ enough t’make you feel special, I know that. I’ve been busy lately.”

You had to admit you’d noticed, and maybe it seeped into your subconscious, eating away at you that all of this was too good to be true. You’d only been in this arrangement with Joel for six months but it had been heavenly, everything you’d been looking for. You didn’t care that he was pushing sixty, that you two looked like the walking embodiment of what judgemental people imagined a sugar daddy and his baby to look like. You admired Joel for who he was, and had before he’d even brought up how badly he wanted to spoil you. The best part was how much he cared about you above all else, above the money, always doting on you and wanting to guide you, protect you.

“I know, daddy,” you say, frowning sympathetically. “It’s okay, it’s not that. I just… want to make sure that you still want this. That I can be everything you want.”

Joel tsks. “Oh, sweetheart, you already are. That hasn’t changed for me one bit. Look at what I got sittin’ right in my lap. Funny, sweet, carin’, and -” He leans in, wrapping his hand around your cheek, kissing you deeply. “So damn sexy in the lingerie I picked out for her.”

You can’t help but giggle at his teasing compliment, hearing the sincerity in his voice. A weight lifts off of your shoulders, realizing you’d been acting foolish, letting your negative thoughts outweigh any sense of rationality. All of the lonely evenings of late when Joel remained at work, leaving you in his spacious penthouse downtown to come home to, or the mornings when he had to rush out the door, had gotten to you more than you’d realized. You understood it was temporary while he oversaw an important project at his firm, and he’d never stopped trying to carve out as much time as possible for you when he could. You smile, finding peace washing over you once again, raking your fingers through his greying beard.

“Daddy…” you coo, giving him a sultry giggle. “You think so?” you ask innocently, peering down at your outfit.

“Mhm,” he mumbles. “Y’know why this one is my favorite? Why I picked it out special?” You shake your head, feeling it start to swim with desire as Joel’s quickly growing bulge presses against you. His hand slips down your body, right between your legs, and you gasp when his fingers touch bare skin, a teasing touch right to where you’re already slick for him. 

“Nothin’ in my way,” he says, grinning darkly. You suppose you’d been too lost in thought in the dressing room to properly register the purposeful hole in the panties when you’d put them on, but now it was all you could think about as Joel’s fingers work their magic. Easily sliding one digit in, he quickly adds a second one, moving them in a steady rhythm. 

Joel watches with pride as your eyes start to glaze over, your needy, bitten lip begging him for more. He leans in for a ravenous kiss with small bites to that enticing bottom lip, listening to the gasping little moans caught in your throat. 

“You’re naughty, daddy,” you say with a breathless giggle against his lips.

“Mhm,” he murmurs back, kissing you again until the heat grows so unbearable between the two of you that you find your hips slowly grinding against him, seeking relief. “Can you blame me for wantin’ easy access to somethin’ this sweet?” he asks you, bringing his shining fingers to his lips, coated with your arousal, sucking on them.

“You always have it, daddy. Even when I’m not wearing this,” you purr, feeling yourself drip as you watch him lick his fingers clean, rolling your hips over his once again. You hum contentedly as warmth flickers in your core at the friction, especially with the gusset of your panties being well, nonexistent and allowing for your clit to rub on the dark fabric of Joel’s suit pants.

He chuckles, amused, and nods. “That’s right, isn’t it?” he agrees, his eyes growing more serious as he reaches down, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly. “An’ despite all this, how I can’t get enough of you, you still thought I’d get bored of you? Bored?” He says the words like he’s lamenting, incredulous that you could see anything other than what he does: the woman that he’s completely infatuated with, the one who plagues his waking and dreaming thoughts alike, the one who he considers it an honor to come home to, laying in wait every night for his cock or his hands or to hear what’s on his mind.

You stammer, seeing that Joel feels hurt you could ever feel less than in his presence. He pulls his cock free, the familiar warmth of it irresistible against your body, but you glance around, seeming to remember yourself, where you are.

“Yes, here,” Joel says sternly before you can even ask the question, seeing your adorable, nervous expression like this is the first time you two have done something unsavory in public. You always act innocent about it though, and Joel eats it right up every damn time, letting it harden his cock as he starts to slide it into your tight, needy hole.

You gasp, eyes going wide as you bask in that sweet spot along the border of pain and pleasure. Joel’s size always takes some getting used to. No matter how ready you are, how many times he’s fucked you, it’s the same stretch and impossibly full feeling as your body adjusts.

“How could I be bored, hm, my darling girl? You think daddy is bored of this?” he asks, threading his fingers into your hair at the back of your head. You give him a weak shake of your head, eyes fluttering when he starts to move his hips, pressing his cock deep inside of you. 

“N-no, no I don’t daddy.”

“Attagirl,” Joel responds proudly, bringing his lips to yours. Your hips collide with his as you meet for greedy kisses, rolling them to meet each thrust upwards of his with soft moans into his mouth. A sound, presumably the front door of the shop in the distance, clanging hard against itself as someone tries to open it when it’s locked, rings out throughout the otherwise quiet store. You realize you haven’t even seen the single employee loitering around anymore, off somewhere to give the two of you some privacy. 

“D-daddy -” you gasp out as he ups the pace, forcing you along for the ride. “Th-the door - maybe we should -”

His eyes, darkened and lustful, dance as his lips turn up in a smirk. He shakes his head, leaning down to bite your bottom lip, pulling it hard. You moan, your mind a quickly muddled mess, your heart racing. 

“C’mon then, if you’re worried about privacy,” he grunts out teasingly, grasping at each side of your ass with his large hands, starting to lift you up, cock still buried deep inside of you as he carries you across to the dressing room. You crash your lips into his again, hungrily taking, the two of you lost in your own world as he slams you up against the wall. Your legs hook tightly around Joel’s body, keeping him pressed deep every time he drives his hips forward. In here, you feel like you can be louder, knowing it’s a ridiculous concept, but the moans that Joel pulls from your throat would have escaped no matter what at the angle he’s hitting inside of you. 

You whimper when you feel yourself getting close, your core tightening as your entire being sits on the edge of pleasure. You start to moan louder, until you’re sure it can’t be contained anymore, circumstances be damned.

“Play with yourself,” Joel grits out, and you quickly unlatch one arm from around his neck, putting a finger to your swollen, aching clit. “Let me feel my baby squeeze daddy’s cock so tight.”

You cry out, nodding fervently as you try to hang onto Joel’s shoulder while rubbing circles on your clit. You can feel the both of you slick with sweat, your bodies pressed impossibly close, his heat surrounding you feeling like home. You can feel both of your bodies trembling with the exertion of this position, but neither one of you wants to stop now, not when you’re both so close. He brings his face to the crook of your neck, pushing all the fluff from the trim further down your shoulder before he bites and sucks on the skin, sending pleasure bursting through you. 

“I’m gonna come daddy, I’m gonna come!” you scream out in pure ecstasy as it sweeps you away, your body tightly held against Joel’s as you lose yourself to it, your head tilting back to lean against the wall. 

“That’s my girl. That’s it, cream on daddy’s cock like a good girl,” he grunts. “F-fuck.” Joel’s thrusts turn more erratic and choppy, the grunting right in your ear one of the sexiest sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. You can’t believe you had worried for even a second about Joel’s feelings towards you when he’s just as lost as you are in this, stringing praises for you under his breath.

“You want me to fill you up, princess? Let it drip right out of your pretty new set? Show everyone who’s mine?”

Breathless as your pussy clenches around him from his words alone, you nod for him. “Y-yes daddy, please. Fill me up.” 

He groans loudly as he slams his hips into yours one last time, spilling himself into you. Heady ecstasy fills your mind with the loveliest haze as you feel Joel come undone inside of you, showing his devotion in the most physical form. 

“God damn. You’re perfect.” he pants out, placing soft kisses everywhere his lips can find in the moment - your neck, slowly working up to your jaw, your cheek, your forehead. He still hasn’t let you go, pulled himself out of the mess you’ve both made of your cunt, wanting to sit in this moment a little longer.

Joel finally settles your limp body on the luxurious bench in the dressing room, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, his arms slowly releasing from around you. He stands up tall, tucking himself away and adjusting his suit jacket before tipping your chin, staring into your heavy lidded eyes.

“You know I’d do anythin’ f’you, darling girl. Give you the entire world if I could.”

“I know, daddy.” You give him an exhausted smile, leaning back against the wall. You grab at your clothing, neatly folded on the bench beside you, moving to start stripping off the lingerie and dressing back up. Joel grasps your hand, shaking his head. 

“I got you, sweetheart,” he says softly, pulling you to stand, letting you put your tired weight on him as he slips the sheer, fuzzy teddy and panties off, leaving you naked. His eyes land between your legs, where his spend leaks down your thighs, and he kisses you softly, letting his hands roam in gentle patterns down your back. You melt into him, sighing. “Let’s get you dressed an’ get some lunch in you,” he whispers against your lips.

“You don’t have to go back to work?” you ask hopefully as Joel starts putting on your underwear for you. He had set this shopping excursion up first thing in the morning, presumably so he could use the rest of the day to manage things at the office and come home to you wearing the new lingerie later on.

Joel’s head shakes, having you step into your skirt before fitting it snugly on your hips. “No, baby. I want to make sure I’m givin’ you my full attention today like you deserve.”

He watches you light up as he pulls your blouse over your head, starting to tidy your outfit up and adjust everything to have you looking polished again. Warmth fills your entire body at his careful, gentle tending to you after how roughly intimate you two had been. You kiss his cheek softly, moving to his lips, feeling his hands tighten around you as he presses you closer to him.

“I’d really like that, daddy,” you say against his lips, leaving him growling softly at the especially sweet lilt you’d used on his title, knowing the effect it would have on him. He surges forward, capturing your lips more ravenously and sliding a hand to your ass to press your hips to his already growing erection. Seeming to remember his duty to care for you above getting his dick wet another time, he pulls back, interlacing his fingers with yours and taking a long, steadying breath.

“Lunch,” he says decidedly. “Then wherever my darlin’ girl wants to go.”

As you two detangle from each other, you catch sight of the pink, fuzzy set, laying on the ground and filthy with the mess you’d both made of it. Joel smirks, his brows raised in amusement as he takes your hand, leading you to the sleek counter near the front to check out. The woman gives you both a practiced smile, slightly strained but still professional despite everything she’d been witness to this morning. 

Joel turns to you, pulling out his wallet, thumbing through the bundle of cash inside. He’d have to remember to compensate the boutique worker extra to express his gratitude for her patience and above all else, her continued discretion.

“What d’you say, sweetheart? We take all of it?” he asks you.

Your eyes go wide at the unexpected suggestion, unable to tear your gaze off of his handsome features. You thread your arm through his, pressing yourself close to show your appreciation for everything today - beyond the pretty new things he was buying you, he’d reminded you of the confidence and safety that you had with him, the deep bond you two shared that was unlike anything either of you had experienced before.

You can’t help but beam when you answer Joel’s question. “Yes, daddy. Especially that pink one.”

lingerie that inspired reader's look:

[slytherin-pen]

Rained Out

pairing: Eris x Reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: smut, mdi, 18+

tags: one bed trope

a/n: for the 500 follower bingo! this request was sent in via comment by @lomahdu . i actually panicked for a second when i was going through my inbox and couldn’t find it like did i make this up?? but thankfully i took screenshots of the comments i received lmao

You should have known the storm was coming. The birds had gone silent and the woodsy critters vanished as if they sensed what you didn’t. But you had been focused on the task at hand—stalking game alongside the Heir of Autumn, your bow strung, footsteps silent and careful.

Eris Vanserra walks ahead of you, red hair dampening from the rain, shoulders broad and tense beneath the layered furs of his hunting cloak. You’d been assigned to assist him today and perhaps the little “he requested you specifically” murmured by your colleague before you left had something to do with how distracted you were.

You have feelings for Eris, but who wouldn’t? He is the prince of your court. Handsome and charming as he is lethal. But you are just a huntswoman working out of a small cabin on the edge of the capital village, trailing behind hunters all day and skinning animals by night. You are nothing like the pretty courtier females he sees every day. Your clothes are dirty with blood stains you gave up on removing and you don’t even want to imagine what you smell like.

The sky cracks open with a strike of lightning. Rain pours in heavy sheets, turning the earth beneath your boots to slick mud.

“We need cover,” Eris calls over the rain.

You don’t argue.

He knows this forest like the back of his hand, and without hesitation, turns left through the thickest part of the glade. You follow in his wake, heart hammering harder with each icy drop that soaks into your clothes.

Between an opening in the trees you can barely see it, nothing more than a darkened shape in the distance, but it’s a cabin Eris is leading you to. He ushers you through the door without a word.

Inside, it’s cold and dark. The living room, bedroom, and kitchen are all squished into one large room, and Eris snaps his finger to light a fire in the hearth before peeling off his soaked cloak and hanging it on the hook by the door.

You do the same, peeling damp gloves off numb fingers. You’re dripping wet, hair sticking to your face, and water trickling down your spine.

Eris glances over his shoulder. “There are towels in the closet,” he says pointing to the door behind the couch.

You grab one, toweling your arms and neck before sitting in front of the hearth. You sigh at the warmth, relishing in the way your hands grow hot, but you’re still shivering.

Eris crouches beside you, face half-lit by firelight, eyes scanning you. “You’re freezing.”

“I’m fine,” you lie.

“You’re practically turning blue.”

You scowl. “I wasn’t prepared to get soaking wet today, or else I would have worn thicker clothes.”

He huffs a laugh. “You should start carrying a bag with you. Stuff a coat in it for the next time this happens.”

He stands again, shedding his jacket and revealing a white, low v-neck tunic. You try not to stare at the pale, freckled skin peeking out, the way you can see the indent of his muscular pectorals.

“There’s only one bed,” he says eventually.

You look over. There is, in fact, only one. The couch is threadbare and barely big enough for a hound, let alone either of you.

“I’ll take the floor,” you offer.

“No, you won’t.” His tone is sharp. “We’ll share.”

Your throat dries, but you nod and take your boots off, then hover near the bed, wringing your hands.

He goes to the chest at the foot of the bed and pulls out a red tunic and black pants. “Here,” he calls, tossing the tunic at you. “You can change in the bathroom. You’re not getting my bed wet with those clothes.

You nod mutely and walk to the bathroom, locking the door behind you before you begin to remove your clothes. Eris’s tunic comes down to your knees, nearly the length of your usual night gown, modest enough that you don’t feel too exposed. When you emerge, Eris has already changed into the pants and…is wearing nothing else.

You gulp, your eyes roaming over his freckled and scarred abs before snapping your eyes back up. “I—uh—I just left my clothes hanging on the tub, if that’s okay.”

Eris dips his chin. “It’s fine.”

You both crawl into the bed, Eris using his magic to dim the fire without putting it out. The bed is too small for the both of you to keep a reasonable amount of space between an employee and an employer. You try to keep your distance, curling near the edge, but the chill seeps into your bones. You may have changed clothes, but your hair is still dripping. You can’t help the trembling. The only sound in the cabin is your chattering teeth.

“Come here,” Eris murmurs.

You freeze.

“I can warm you,” he says. “And I can’t sleep with that incessant noise.”

You hesitate only a moment before turning.

He’s already watching you.

Carefully, you scoot closer. His arm opens, inviting, and you press against his chest. One of his arms curls around you. You bury your face against him, breathing in cinnamon and wood smoke. The warmth is blissful. But then you feel it. The brush of his fingers against your spine. The way his chest rises, tense. The steady drum of his heartbeat just below your ear.

And something else.

A coil of need tightening low in your belly. You should move. You should ignore it. But you don’t. Instead, your hand slides up his chest, slow and curious. His skin is hot to the touch. His breath catches, and you feel it the moment he notices. The scent of your arousal hits the air, subtle and sweet—but not subtle enough.

Eris growls. It’s low, guttural. His arm tightens around you, and when he speaks, his voice is barely audible. “You smell delicious. Is that for me?”

You swallow hard but don't deny it.

His nose brushes your jaw. “You’ve been tempting me all damn day.”

“I haven’t done anything,” you protest.

“You exist,” he snaps quietly. “You breathe and I want to burn the world for a taste of you.”

His fingers tilt your chin up. His eyes blaze like twin embers. “I can’t pretend anymore,” he says, voice low and sharp. “Can you?”

“No,” you whisper.

His mouth is on yours before the word has fully left your lips. You don’t even try to stop it. His kiss is all heat and hunger, devouring and desperate. His hand tangles in your hair as he presses you down into the mattress, mouth never leaving yours. You arch into him, every inch of your body aching for contact.

You don’t even notice him take his pants off or pull your panties to the side. You only care that his skin is searing against yours, that his hands know exactly how to touch you. When he finally pushes inside you, it’s slow. Deep. Like he’s trying to memorize how you feel around him.

“Fuck,” he groans, forehead pressed to yours. “You feel divine.”

You can barely breathe. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he swears, voice cracked. “I could live inside you.”

His rhythm starts steady, building heat between your hips, your thighs wrapped tight around his waist. You claw at his back, chasing the fire building inside. He thrusts deeper, harder, until you’re gasping, incoherent. He murmurs praises against your throat—beautiful, perfect, mine. Each word sinks deeper than his cock, and it undoes you.

Pleasure shatters through your spine like lightning.

You cry out his name, and he follows with a strangled sound, spilling into you as he holds you through it, shaking with the force of restraint broken.

The storm outside howls.

Inside, there is only your breathing, tangled limbs, the scent of sex and sweat, and something more dangerous blooming in your chest.

Love.

He presses a kiss to your temple, lips softer now. Reverent. “You’ve always been mine,” he whispers.

You turn your face into his neck, warm and full and content.

“I know,” you murmur, tracing your fingers over the flame-marked skin of his back. “I was just waiting for you to realize it.”

Bingo 500 taglist: @nocasdatsgay

[thecatchat]

Free fic idea because I know I'm going to run out of energy if I try to write it myself.

Takes place after the realized ending. I don't know what the cannon ending is but I'm imagining they definitely buy a bar together and name it The Breaker Box, but they eventually realize that running a human bar requires more than two people, no matter how much they try. So they hire a small amount of staff, I'm thinking no more than 4 people.

This would be a 5 times someone learned something new (or odd) about their bosses and the 1 time it made sense/someone put it all together.

1. Volt and Eddie kiss in front of a homophobic costumer, revealing that they're a couple to the employees.

2. Eddie adopts an orange alley cat and names them Copper. Copper disappears for a few days and Eddie is fine (he's overworking himself with worry. He's replacing lightbulbs whenever he can get away with it, none of them are actually burnt out.) When Copper comes back, they drop 3 kittens in Eddie's lap and curl up at his feet. ("I'm not a cat dad, I'm a cat uncle at most.") The kittens names all relate to electricity. Due to this, Volt or Eddie reveal that electricity, or even specifically a breaker box, was the reason they met in the first place and refuse to elaborate.

Rest under the cut because it got really long.

3. The staff are invited to a team building thing, it could be a party or an escape room or whatever. Point is: there are black lights illuminating the space. Volt sees his reflection under black light, sees how his hair looks like it's glowing and shuts down? Maybe even starts crying without realizing it? Either way, when Eddie is going to comfort him, one of the employees hear Volt say "my hair is glowing again." Or something along those lines. The employees learn that Volt has an emotional reaction to his white hair glowing.

4. One night, the breaker trips due to a storm and Eddie runs off to fix it almost like a mad man. Volt is caught up keeping the guests calm and entertained so when it takes Eddie a while, an employee goes to check on him. They find him staring angrily/confused at the breaker box and mumbling like he's missing something. The employee flips the switch on the breaker and Eddie is startled out of his trance. When asked why he didn't flip the switch he's like "I- I couldn't feel it." Now he's shut down and/or tearing up. The employee panics a bit, puts a cat on him then goes and tells Volt what's happening. The employees aren't sure what they've learned, but it's definitely something.

5. Somebody gets a little violent/rowdy at the bar or an after closing repair goes a little wrong and Eddie or Volt gets hurt, dealers choice. Now, I think realization shouldn't come without its quirks, some more obvious than others. For Volt and Eddie, I think their blood should be blue. Our blood looks red because when the iron in it oxidizes with air it becomes a red color. If the blood has copper instead of iron, like Horseshoe Crab blood, it appears blue when oxidized. Copper wires = copper blood = blue blood.

So all 4 employees see that their employer is bleeding blue. Everyone is shocked, eventually the unhurt boss calls Freya, because they can not go to a hospital for this. In the meantime while they wait. "Um, is that blood?" "No." "What is it then?" "... blood can't be blue." "Horseshoe crabs have blue blood! They're really cool animals." "... human blood isn't blue." "..."

In the days following, lots of really odd people swing by specifically to talk to Volt/Eddie. Whoever you want, just, individually, any resemblance to an object is a fun thing to see. But when every single person who's specifically asking after your boss reminds of something/is a very distinct personality, it begins to pile up that something is weird.

+1 - I think this point could be told from Eddie and/or Volts pov. Basically, the employees are trying to figure out what kind of magical creature their bosses are. Someone tried to stick a fridge magnet on Eddie (robot). Someone flicked water at Volt (Holy water, vampire). They both keep getting poked with metal things (Iron, Fae). Eventually they call up a meeting to tell them to knock it off.

"You tell us what you think we are and we'll tell you if you're correct or not." "Hint: we're human." *a few incorrect guesses* "um, more of a question than a guess. But, um, were you cursed to be a breaker box? At some point?" "..." "..." "..." "Volt. Don't." "I didn't say anything."

Up to the author if they fully explain the house thing or if they basically go, "You're not right, but you're not wrong either. No more questions." Either way, I think that could be the end of the fic.

[revelboo]

I know this is a bit of a weird request, but could you write about what would happen if mechs turned into cats? How would different mechs look and behave around the reader? I imagine Soundwave as a skinny, sneaky cat—the type who likes to stare at you from the corner of the door. And Ratchet would be a very fluffy, old cat who acts grumpy and untouchable but follows the reader to check if they’re okay and stays close when the reader is sick. I’d be happy to see TFP Soundwave and TFP Ratchet in this scenario. Have a lovely day!

Sure! 😈 I can have fun with this

Trickster

TFP Various x Reader

• Harness jingling as lean back against your perch on the arm of your big, alien husband’s throne, you watch him brandish a weird looking metal stick and you slide a hand against your recharging son’s helm. Though given the way the fidgety guy with the wings and the annoying voice is cringing every time the end of the stick and the bulbous chunk of rock in it swings his way as Megatron gestures with it, that’s definitely not just an ugly walking stick. “Lord Megatron, with all due respect, maybe you shouldn’t just swing Amalgamous’s relic around since we haven’t been able to decipher what it does?” Starscream’s whining and you know what’s coming.

• Servos tightening on the staff, Megatron catches your exhausted look right before he wheels around and smacks the end into the seeker for daring question him. And Amalgamous’s staff flares with Eldritch light, his spark constricting as a pulse slams out from the staff and bowls him backwards, hearing Starscream shriek out profanity as pain hooks into his spark, pulling sharply and he’s struggling as everything goes wrong. Can’t see, senses offline, and he tries to turn towards you and his sparkling, reaching desperately.

• For a second you can’t breathe, feels like you’re underwater, the air too thick as your lungs struggle and your heart goes racing as something prickles over you. Sees you. And passes you by. Gasping raggedly, eyes watering, you stare at the tiny gray and reddish kitten in your lap where your son should be, hearing its upset mewling. Unable to breathe all over again as you hear a hiss and yowling, and you cup the kitten to yourself and lean to look. Staring at the big, scarred gray cat clawing frantically at the base of Megatron’s throne trying to get up to you, then at the other, skinny cat hissing, fur on end. No. Nope, you’re not dealing with magic bullshit on top of regular alien bullshit. “Hell no.”

• Startling awake when something pounces on your gut, you stare at a skinny, sleek cat, its fur almost blue black and one eye a scarred milky white as it bumps its head against your chin. Sitting up, the cat keeps rubbing against you, restlessly twining around you, its one good eye staring up at you. “Hey, baby,” you whisper, rubbing an ear as its mouth yawns open silently, tail flicking. “Did Soundwave find you and bring you home for me?” You coo, hugging his warmth to you. Where is your big, clingy mate? When you stand up, the cat follows right on your heels, rubbing and twisting between your legs.

• That didn’t just happen. Holding the fluffy white and red cat to yourself as he meows plaintively, you hurry out of Medbay and slide to a stop. Seeing Miko holding an enormous green ball of fur as Raf wrangles a skinny, yellow and black cat, Jack busy trying to coax a sleek pink and blue cat down. “They’re all cats,” Raf yells, looking horrified as Miko squeals and hugs Bulkhead, face pressed against his back. ‘I’m too sober for this,’ you mutter tiredly as Ratchet yowls and squirms.

• Waking up at the nonstop meowing, you sit up and stare at the cat. Cats. That’s a lot of cats. Your whole bedroom full of gray cats, all distressed and letting you hear about it. Had the Vehicons wrangled them for you? But why would they think you’d want a small army of stray cats? “Steve? Honey?” You call out and one of the cats jumps in your lap, butting you with its head and mewing. “Scoot,” you murmur, sliding the cat down and they’re all mewing, trying to climb in your lap and rubbing against you. At least they’re affectionate? Where had they found so many cats, though?

Next

[a-casxandra]

𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧!? part 2

𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐌𝐞𝐧 : reacting to you having cryptic pregnancy—when the baby comes out looking exactly like them. and what i think they will name their child.

a cryptic pregnancy also known as stealth or hidden pregnancy, occurs when a woman is unaware that she is pregnant, until late in the pregnancy, sometimes even until labor begins. This can happen for various reasons, including a lack of typical pregnancy symptoms, misinterpretation of symptoms, or denial of pregnancy

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ☆ﾟ+｡★

Xavier blinks slowly, staring at the baby with a quiet intensity. Her silver hair glimmers under the hospital lights, and her soft blue eyes flutter open—an exact mirror of his own.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just reaches out, awkwardly cradling her in his arms, brows furrowed as if analyzing a new constellation. After a long silence, he murmurs in his usual soft, monotone voice:

“She looks like me… That’s statistically unlikely.”

pauses.

“I want to name her Astrea. She feels like a star I’ve been chasing... and finally found.”

Xavier falls asleep sitting up, still holding her protectively.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ☆ﾟ+｡★

He’s frozen for a moment. The moment he lays eyes on her hazel-green eyes and black hair—his exact features in miniature—something sharp and overwhelming pierces through his stoic facade.

Zayne presses his palm to his face briefly, then laughs under his breath. “So this is what you were hiding, huh?”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Aurora. Let’s call her that. Like the aurora we saw that night—the one you said looked like a promise.”

And with her tiny hand gripping his pinky, zayne realizes this is the one patient he’d give anything to never let go of.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ☆ﾟ+｡★

His jaw drops dramatically. Then he gasps.

“Wait—she’s me. Look! The eyes! The hair!” grins, practically vibrating with energy.

“She’s so pretty… She’s literally my twin. Oh, you’re gonna be trouble, little siren.”

Rafayel bounces on his heels, pulling you into a clumsy but emotional hug.

“We’re calling her Serena. Like serenity, but also like a mermaid. It’s perfect, right? My little Serena...”

Then he cries a little. Drama king.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 ☆ﾟ+｡★

Sylus goes quiet. Too quiet. His usual arrogant smirk falters as he stares down at the child in your arms.

Red eyes. Silver-white hair. His features, to the finest detail.

“…Well, I can’t exactly deny she’s mine, can I?” He chuckles softly, but there's a rare softness in his voice.

“Tch. You’re going to be even more dangerous than your father.” Sylus brushes her cheek with the back of his finger, eyes never leaving hers.

“Lilith. Her name’s Lilith. A name befitting a queen born from chaos.”

And for the first time, he looks like someone who has something to lose.

★｡+ﾟ☆ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ☆ﾟ+｡★

He's pacing. Nervous. Hands on his hips, eyes wide. But the moment he sees her—dark brown hair, purple eyes—his knees almost give out.

Caleb walks over slowly, crouches beside the bed, and touches her tiny hand. “You’re kidding me… She’s… mine.” turns to you, eyes glassy.

“I wasn’t ready. But I think I love her more than anything I’ve ever flown.”

Caleb picks her up with surprising confidence, pressing her to his chest. “Let’s name her Skylor. Sky, for short. She’ll always have the sky watching over her. Just like I watched over you.”

And he doesn't let go.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i don't know how will i design caleb's cake, so i decided to put everything. and yes, i'm one of those sylus's girlie that made dragon for his birthday cake.

[ghosttrainstation]

It's the lead up to an equestrian competition, and yuu is doing some reading about history when they come across a book about knights and jousting. They specifically pay attention to the part about favors given to the knights, and they get an idea. They barrow the book from the library and text all the first years except sebek to meet up with them. It takes a minute for them all to get to Ramshackle, but once they do, yuu shows them the book and chapter about favors.  At first, Ace and Deuce vocalize the groups confusion on what this has to do with anything? Yuu brings up the competition and who's not there.  Realization is on all their faces. It takes very little convincing. It's a simple idea, and the plan is set.

They are making favors for their favorite knight to be.

  Ace and Deuce immediately go to Cater to find something. Ace trys to spin a story bout what they need help with, but Deuce stumbles on his words and ends up revealing the actual reason. Cater is delighted by the idea( and that they chose to come to him for it). He searchs magicam for them and brings up some that match their dorms aesthetic. They end up deciding on a cute black ribbon with the card suits in red and white on it.

  Ortho cross references several sources  and comes up with multiple ideas. He asks Idia to choose between the options without giving much context until he asks to order the chosen option. Idia gives a smirk and tells Ortho that his moral buff item is gonna be the best of them. He gets a black false leather bracelet with blue studs(made with fae safe metal)

  Jack stops by the school store and picks up some cording in familur colors before heading back to his dorm. He has a tutorial video up when Ruggie walks in. Noticing what Jack is working on, he chills nearby and gives a few tidbits on how the thing is turning out. In the end, Jack makes a fairly nice dark brown and yellow braided cord bracelet.

  Epel is struggling to come up with something when he begrudgingly goes to Vil for advice. If anyone knows what a good favor for a knight would be, it would be him. Vil is quite happy to help even if it doesn't show. With his help, Epel gets a fancy purple ribbon embellished with golden apples.

  Yuu doesn't have much to work with or the funds to go out and buy something. But they have become pretty good with their hands.(it's been a big help since they learned to sew) With a little bit of guidance from the ramshackle ghost and cheer on from grim yuu embroiders a simple handkerchief with little blue flames and ghosts in the corner. Satisfied with their work, all that's left is to wait for the day of the competition.

  It's the day, and Sebek is preparing  for the competition. He and the other NRC competitors glance toward the RSA team getting lots of trinkets from fans before the match starts. It's obvious that RSA is popular. But sebek approached by the other first years before it starts. Before he can even shout at them, Ortho is the first to offer his favor. The others follow suit. Yuu is the last to give him theirs, gently tying it on his wrist. Sebek is fighting back tears with each one. He is someone favorite competitor. His companions(totally friends) gave him a knightly favor. Along with encouraging him to "do his best" and "kick some prissy princes ass."

                     They Believe In Him.

When it's his turn. Sebek gives his all in the competition, and then some. Riding like a knight on a battlefield. He ends up with perfect and near-perfect scores on everything. He wins the competition. For once, if not the first time, NCR won an equestrian competition against RSA. By a first year, no less. But the cheers of the team don't nearly sound as nice as the ones that have their favors displayed proudly on his wrists. The barely there weight of them sends warmth and pride blossoming in his chest.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"A KISS TO LIPS AND ONE TO THE HEART"

DANNY PHANTOM X BLACK FEM!READER

Bio: Haven't made a Danny post in a while, so why not? Let's make this post a little frisky and risky, but you know what's going on! A voodoo reader playing with little voodoo Danny.

A kiss to the eye and one to the heart—that's what the interaction says as you saw your little boyfriend together. But he's not your boyfriend, well, not yet, but soon, very soon. You grab two little strands of white and black hair—his hair, cutting the doll open and neatly putting the strands of hair inside. You feel yourself giggling evilly in your bedroom, almost falling off the bed, but you hold yourself together for the time being. Dressing little Danny up in his signature outfit: a white shirt with a red dot and baggy blue-green pants that cover his Converse, complete. He looks so cute! You press a sweet kiss to his temple.

Little do you know, he's already feeling your touch from a city away, but you're still not done sewing some hair onto his little head—white and black, a perfect mix—with those blue and green button eyes. Oh, you're obsessed! He may not be your boyfriend now, but this will have to do. Placing him close to your heart, somewhere in Gotham, he can hear the steady tempo of your heart, and it's really soothing, sending him to sleep. But whose heartbeat is that? Because he knows it's not his, because he was a ghost, and his heart never beats in ghost form. So, is the soothing rhythm...?

Your pressing little kisses to his face, still the voodoo doll filled with black lipstick from head to toe. Danny wakes up the next morning with lipstick all across his face, and it's not rubbing off. People think he had a crazy night, but really, he stayed at home. Even in ghost form, he feels those weird little touches all over his body—you're poking and prodding at him like he's a little game, and it makes him go absolutely crazy. He gets all hard while fighting, as he has no self-control, and it doesn't go down until he takes care of it himself. He's gasping and whining, his heart beating fast as he floats in a dark alley, relieving himself. He's embarrassed. If only you knew what you do to him.

He's in bed trying to sleep, but he can feel the touch of your lips all over him. He pulls off his blanket, seeing little lipstick marks on his chest and around his thighs. Could this be a ghost, he thinks, but he doesn't detect anything, and the room doesn't feel cold — just hot and warm, like there's someone in there with him. Even if there's no one, then he hears that soothing heartbeat. His heart is thundering in his chest, but instead of trying to stop, he watches to see how it goes. Your little kisses turn into bites that leave hickeys on his thighs. He's gasping for air, his body quivering as if he's been left out in the cold. A soft kiss is placed on his cock, and he's gone, eyes rolling to the back of his head, whimpering and burying his face into the pillows. He feels so overwhelmed by the beat of your heart and your warm, soft touches. Jesus, he's not going to make it through the night.

"Mnh-h, h-hey, no fair. Can't l-let you have all the f-fun, little ghost..." he whines grabbing his cock and fuck why is he so sensitive he's never been like this before he feels like he might cry from tk the stimulation but he holds on slow strokes that are sending him over the moon he's covering his mouth so that nobody hears him but two or tree little "pleases~" escape his lips without a single thought in world

"You're so tense, baby," she purred against the doll's ear, and you gently rubbed his chest with warm hands. Danny's finally calming down, but it's a bit hard with your warm and soft touches. When he cums, it's like the best orgasm he's ever had, his high lasting for way too long, his body trembling with need. He feels a kiss on his lips, and he finds himself trying to make out with the air. Fuck, he feels hopeless, but in his ear, he hears a little, "Nighty night, Danny," and she leaves him one last kiss. He lets out a guttural groan. "Stupid, little ghost," he huffs, but that sweet voice is never leaving his mind.

He thinks it's all just a wet dream, but when he wakes up to see the mess you made of him, he's completely lost it. 'Cause one, he ain't some pet; two, he ain't some toy. And damn, that felt good. He's replaying your voice over and over in his head; he almost forgets about it until he goes to Wayne Manor for an internship and hears that same soothing heartbeat, but closer. He feels a sweet kiss on his lips, and it feels so real, like he's touching your lips right now. He's running up the stairs and knows he can hear small kissing noises. "You're so cute, Danny!" That same voice. He's dashing down the hallways and sees the culprit: Bruce Wayne's daughter, holding a small voodoo doll of Danny near her chest. The same black lipstick marks that were on his lips are on the doll's. "Hello, little ghost." Why settle for a doll when the real thing is standing right in front of your door?