#ancient ass clock

[las-scribbles]

yeah... Pope Francis was the goat highkey, he will be missed

[shitass-broadsword]

ancient ass clocks bitch !!?

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.

[dark-moonlust]

Gargoyle Guardian

Pairing: Gargoyle x human reader

Summary: The gargoyle guardian awakened upon sensing your presence. His mate. He will have you no matter what.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, double 🍆🍆, vag and anal, explicit descriptions. Don't like, don't visit my blog.

The clock struck midnight.

Stone cracked and fell away.

“I have watched over this place for centuries,” the creature rumbled. “But in all those years I have never come upon something so beautiful.”

You turned around and stood frozen. The gargoyle had talked. It was alive when mere seconds ago it was a mere rock. His dark red gaze locked onto yours as he descended from his pedestal in the ancient cathedral. The full moon cast light over the creature’s form, he was large and imposing with a chiseled chest, firm legs, and huge wings.

You wanted to run, to flee but you felt a strange pull that made you stay.

The gargoyle landed with grace, barely disrupting the ground despite his formidable size.

Dark red eyes stared at you and for a second there they flashed with animosity. And then, liquid lust coursed through you. You forgot the need to run, you ignored your fear, too entranced by the creature’s ancient magic.

You were being seduced.

And you willingly succumbed.

In a flurry of moments, he lifted you, placing on the cool platform of the cathedral.

You found yourself on all fours, palms and knees on the floor, ass up high in the air. Clothes were ripped and your skin shivered once exposed to the cool night air. You felt icy fingers traveling over your flesh, cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples.

The touches continued. He caressed your sides, your arms, feeling your belly and thighs, stopping at your mound. He cupped you there, probing your wet cunt with a blunt finger. An involuntary moan escaped you.

“My mate,” the gargoyle drawled against your neck. “I finally found you. Mine. Mine.”

“Yours?” You asked, too entranced by the hold he had upon you, mental and physical.

“You’re mine, little pet,” he said fondly, retracting his sharp nails and letting his fingers safely slide across your pussy, rubbing your clit before slipping inside.

Eyes closing, you whined and wiggled your ass as he fingered you, fucking you with one digit then adding one more. He gathered your wetness in two digits and rubbed them on your pouting asshole, before pushing them inside. You protested but his free hand slapped over your mouth, robbing you of speech.

No one had touched you there before.

Another whine left you.

The fingers in your ass turned from two to three. Your unused hole stretched around the gargoyle’s thick fingers, causing you pain and pleasure. You burned and craved to come. But just as you were about to have your release, the fingers drew back.

“You’ll take me now, little mate. You’re ready.”

Before you could summon a reply, you felt the press of something warm and pulsing. You looked back, jaw going slack at the two cocks pressing against you. Two! They were similar, gigantic, and an angry gray color. The first shaft was thick and curvy with pearly drops on the bulbous head. The other one was just as big, etched with throbbing veins and self-lubricant.

Fear flashed in your eyes as both shafts settled on your little holes. The pressure and stretch overwhelmed you. Inch by inch they invaded your depths, claiming you. They reached the hilt, your belly round and so very filled. Growling, the creature drew back, his cocks coming out slick with your juices.

The gargoyle growled in satisfaction and fucked you slow and steady.

The palm covering your mouth loosened so he could slide two fingers in your mouth. They curled and reached the back of your throat. You gagged and whimpered as he took you, and you came wildly on both cocks while they thrust and thrust inside you. He didn’t stop fucking you. The primal pounding didn’t stop for what felt like hours. He kept you there, pinned under him while he fucked your pussy and your ass, your belly bulging with his cocks.

As the first light of dawn approached, his movements turned frantic.

You were a mess, having had one climax after the other.

When he finally came, both cocks exploded within you, spurting buckets and buckets of warm cum. It overflowed, dripping down your shaking legs and making puddles on the ground. Your eyes closed as sleep and exhaustion took you, while the gargoyle held you close, his cocks still hard inside you.

“You are mine now. And I will protect you always.”

[fvaleraye]

limbus company is a wild game. you play as a nonbinary amnesiac who got their head cut off and responded by replacing it with a flaming wall clock, whose second job is to (ineffectually, at first) be the manager of a group of people on a bus and whose first job is to revive and heal them anytime anything happens, which is all the time. your party is comprised of a dour scientist who has a habit of speaking in poetry, a mysterious white haired genius implied to be in a constant mental discord call with different versions of herself across multiple universes, an autistic woman who named her shoes after a fictional horse and turns into an ancient and powerful vampire if they're ever taken off, a swordswoman who speaks a third of her mind in acronyms and loves to murder people "artistically", an autistic frenchman built like a fridge who refuses to be a person unless ordered to, a long haired rich pretty boy who accidentally pisses people off with his sheltered behavior half the time and pretends to be dumber than he is to purposefully annoy people the other half, a british thug whose entire plot could have been solved by just spitting it out and also turned into a wolf monster for a bit, a ginger who got bored of her office job and decided to get on a boat and hunt whales about it, a russian gambler whose mental health and self image are rapidly deteriorating while she is also getting progressively worse at hiding it, a young man who is really in over his head while also being very good at killing people who also is weirdly good at translating the earlier mentioned swordswoman's acronyms, a kiss-ass former military woman who would probably kill everyone else in the party if she thought she could get away with it, and a czech former-soldier who got a mutant bug arm and intense ptsd and depression. there's also the all powerful guide who tells you where to go who is legally not allowed to be too helpful and is also perpetually sick of your shit, and the strange girl who drives the bus you all ride in without a license or a lick of training. also the bus looks like a train. add onto the fact that most of the characters and their backstories are references to classic literature, and you have what is possibly the world's MOST dysfunctional dnd party.

we love this fucking game.

[rin-may-1103]

The Wrong Robin Au (part three)

Previous | Master Post | Next

Danny never said he knew what he was doing, but he thinks he's doing something right if the kid hasn't started crying yet. so you know, that's great. now, he just needed to get the kid out of here, so Danny could have a moment to mourn his retirement plans.

He wasn't going to blame the kid, ancients know Danny would have gone back to hero work eventually. He just couldn't let things go if he could help it, and he could in this situation.

"Alright, here's the plan." Danny announced, slapping his legs as he stood up. "it's late, you're a kid who needs sleep. let's get you home, then we can get a game plan on how to do this."

Tim had been nodding his head, even if it was reluctantly, before freezing in sudden realization. Danny raised his eyebrow in question, wondering what was wrong now.

"you want my help?" Tim asked, absolutely gobsmacked.

Oh, the kid thought Danny was just going to send him away like any reasonable adult would. Ha, Danny wished. but no. He had no clue what he was doing and this kid was his only trump card for making any of the half-assed plans still forming in his head work. AND he had a feeling if he didn't keep Tim close by, the kid would run off and do something stupid.

"Yep," Danny snorted, "you were smart enough to figure out who Batman was, and then you decided to take it upon yourself to help him; whether by convincing me to do it or yourself."

"Now then," Danny said as he walked over to the couch and pulled his hoodie from under Sam. Sam, to her credit, told him to fuck off and went back to snoring. Tucker, somehow having heard her, responded with a 'Go fuck yourself'.

Shaking his head, Danny turned back to Tim. "Let's get going. It's-" Danny turned to look at the clock, his eyes narrowing when he found it; 4 am. The kid was up and coherent enough to try and blackmail someone into being Robin at four in the morning. "-four. you seriously need to get some sleep kid. It's a school night." actually, what day was it???

Tim rolled his eyes but started to follow Danny out the door. "It's Saturday, and I've stayed up longer," he grumbled.

Danny snorted, "So have I, but we still need to sleep." He should probably try and prevent the kid from staying up longer than he should. Danny knows what years of not sleeping properly does to someone. The kid's obsessed with Batman and Robin, right? He'll just use them then.

"Robin needs all the sleep he can get. Otherwise, Batman will bench him. If Robin is benched, then who is out there helping Batman?" That's convincing, right? Does Batman even have the power to bench Robin? From the sounds of it, Robin is his kid's vigilante name. Which means he totally has the power to ground them.

Wait...

If Danny was going to be Robin, does that mean Batman would think he's his kid?

Oh, hell naw. He was not going to be adopted by another fruitloop! If Bruce Wayne even thinks about it, Danny will be out of there so fast even the Flash couldn't stop him.

Tim stumbled, his eyes wide in surprise. "Really?" he asks, turning to look at Danny in horror. Danny blinked, brain failing to remember why the kid would be surprised.

shit, what were they talking about?? Robin... It's four am... Right!

"Yep," Danny chirped, leading the kid to his car. "Now, I know everyone says not to get into a stranger's car and all that jazz, but it's the only way I'm getting you home. So, hop in."

Tim didn't even hesitate to jump into the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt across his chest. Danny stared at him for a second, before opening the car door and sitting down.

"kid, you do know you're not supposed to get into strangers' cars, right?" Danny asked, closing the door and buckling up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his keys and started the engine.

"Well, yeah?" Tim replied, turning to face him, "But you're not a stranger. You're Robin. You protect people not hurt them."

and well? Danny can't argue with that, now, can he?

"Right, fine. Just promise not to get into strangers' cars. I don't care how much you think you know about them. It's not safe, and you could get hurt."

Tim hummed, thinking about it for a moment before nodding his head. "Yeah, alright. I promise."

"good." Danny sighed, turning to look at the road to see if it was clear. then he sighed again, "Don't tell strangers where you live, please."

Tim looked at him in amusement, a small smile spreading across his face. "Drake manor. 1015 Mountain Drive. It's in the Crest Hill community."

"You're killing me here, kid." Danny groaned, hitting his head against the steering wheel. Then he slowly lifted his head and turned to stare at Tim, "Kid. How the hell did you get all the way over here? Mountain Drive is all the way over in Bristol??? That's, like, twelve miles outside of city limits?"

"I have my ways."

Danny narrowed his eyes, "You bribed someone, didn't you."

Tim looked away from him, fiddling with his fingers.

sighing, Danny sat up and started driving down the road. They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the chaos that was Gotham City as they drove. Tim eventually slumped over, his head resting against the window.

It took a good thirty minutes before Danny could turn onto the bridge out of town. The traffic wasn't heavy, just the occasional car here and there. It was almost peaceful.

"Turn here," Tim suddenly instructed, startling Danny.

"Tim!" Danny cried, turning to look at the kid, then back at the road. although, he did do as the kid instructed. "don't do that! you'll give me a heart attack or something! Ancients!"

Tim blinked, then shrugged. "ok," he yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"my house is the one with really stupid-looking ducks carved into the gates." Tim supplied, waving his hand at the road ahead of them. "Bruce's is the one with bats, but you knew that."

"Right," Danny agreed. What were the chances that Batman happened to live in a place called Gotham and in a house with black iron gates covered in bats? It was almost as coincidental as Danny's last name sounding like Phantom. Fate really had quite the sense of humor, didn't they?

after they passed a few more dirt roads, Tim pointed at a specific one, "Turn here. The gates a little further back than everyone else's."

Danny hummed, turning the car onto the road. What was his life at this point? Driving children to their huge houses at four-thirty in the morning? agreeing to become Robin? coming out of retirement because a kid asked him to?

Bruce Wayne better appreciate all the effort this kid was going through...

A tall gate slowly popped into view, making Danny slow the car down until he could stop right in front of it. "Alright, kid. You're home. get some sleep. Go to school, I don't know, what do you rich kids do on the weekends? actually, you know what? It doesn't matter, do you have a phone?"

Tim blinked as he slowly unbuckled, "yes?"

"One that's not monitored by your parents or anyone else?"

"..."

Danny sighed, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his phone. "Here," Danny unlocked it, went to settings, and pressed the factory reset option. (Danny needed it with how often he needed to wipe all 'incriminating' things on there. Tucker taught him how to add it after a close call with the GIW.) Once the phone finished the reset, he quickly scanned through it to make sure it was all gone before adding his second phone number. Once done, he tossed it over to the kid. "Here, it should work for now. Don't let anyone else have it."

If this were any other situation, Danny would have gone straight to the kid's parents, but considering it was past four in the morning and there wasn't a city-wide amber alert? He has a feeling the kid needs a safety net, and well? What better than a direct line to him?

"I can't just take your phone!" Tim cried, catching the phone before it could fall to the ground.

"It's my backup one. I tend to break my phone pretty often, so I always keep an extra one on me. my current number is saved on it, you can reach out and get in contact with me now." Danny waved off the kid's concern, reaching into the back of the car to grab a bag.

with how often his phone had broken during ghost fights and how frequently his parents dissected his phone for parts? It's a habit at this point to have a backup. or Ten. Pulling the bag to the front, Danny showed the kid what was inside.

"..." Tim blinked, then looked up at Danny. "why do you have a bag of broken phones in your car?"

"Because my phones keep breaking and I figured it would be easier to just keep them for extra parts than toss them. Now," Danny tossed the bag into the back, ignoring how it tipped over and spilled the contents all over the seat. He'd clean it up later. Maybe. "It's early. You need sleep, I need sleep. We can pick another day to sit down and build a game plan."

Tim sat in silence for a moment, staring at the phone in his hands, before glancing up at Danny. "You really mean it?" he asked, turning the phone around anxiously, "you really want my help?"

"kid, Tim," Danny started, tilting his head so he could make eye contact. "with how bad you say Batman's gotten? I'm going to need all the help I can get. Who better than the one who went out of his way to try and actually do something about it?"

Tim's eyes watered as he looked back at the phone. "ok," he whispered, nodding his head. Reaching up, he wiped his face clean before taking a deep breath and letting it out.

"ok," he repeated, voice stronger now. "I'll help. I want to."

"Good," Danny nodded in agreement, then smiled. "get some sleep kid, you need it."

"I don't need it," Tim grumbled, turning to open the door and get out. "but if that's what it takes for you to allow me to help, then I guess I can take a nap or something."

Danny snorted, watching as Tim closed the car door and started making his way to the gate.

as soon as the kid was out of view, Danny slammed his head onto the steering wheel and groaned. He had definitely jinxed himself earlier. How hard can being Robin be? Yeah right. He hasn't even gotten to meet Bruce yet and he's already stressed.

...

Glancing up, Danny watched as the clock glitched then turned to five am.

...

Well then, he might as well do something productive since it was unlikely he'd be getting any more sleep if he went back. Sam would be up by the time he got there, which meant he'd have to answer all of her questions... which would wake Tucker up, which would mean Danny'd have to explain all over again.

Glancing around, Danny suddenly realized something.

Batman.

Bruce Wayne was Batman.

Bruce Wayne; as in, Gotham's own himbo billionaire.

Who lives in Bristol.

Which is where he is right now. Logically speaking, he'd be able to find it pretty fast if he just looked at the gates. It's probably just a few houses from Tim's too, now that he thought about it...

Oh, this was a terrible idea, but when had that ever stopped Danny?

Jazz was so going to kill him for this.

Next

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

I need Danny weirdly being

The infinite Realms version of Persephone

Where Clockwork has managed just like people into believing that his poor favorite son Danny gets taken away 6 months out of the year by Valerie aka the red huntress

And how she even changed phantom's name to Danny up on the surface just like Persephone's name in the underworld is Persephone top of world it's Kore

Clockwork is really out here with you on the fact that he wants his son back and promises not to attack and Danny's over here like we broke up years ago back in high school by ancient stop telling people that

The reason Danny keeps disappearing is because of college so he's absolutely confused in the background

~{…So here me out Male Wife X Girl boss }~

•Phantom or Danny•

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Clockwork was drinking some nightshade tea in his clock tower, when he heard the distinctive sound of a outer-world door slamming open in his clock tower shortly followed by the clicking of heels he was very familiar with.

“FATHER-IN-LAW”

Yelled a very pissed off Valerie Gray who is married to his Ghostling, Who surprisingly was not in her hero get up as she usually is when she comes to visit the realms even when she was with Clockworks ghosting.

“Ah Mrs.Gray what can I help you with?” Clockwork like a good Father-in-Law asked innocently before having one of the ecto-blasters that Valerie always keeps that her hips shoved into his face.

While Clockwork could have easily just destroyed her very existence in every timeline and made it so it would be like she never existed in the first place, but the only unfortunate part of being the Ghostly Father of Danny is that he would remember her and he would hate to make his ghosting cry.

“Don’t try to pull that ‘I don’t know anything about this’ bullshit with me” Valerie yelled after a moment.

“But I truly do not know what your talking about Mrs.G-” Clockwork almost finished responses before he was so rudely interrupted by Valerie who was yelling so much it was a surprise that she hadn’t her voice yet.

“Stop telling people I kidnapped Danny!, I have to keep fighting back other supernaturals who keep trying to kidnap Danny back into the ghost zone while beating off the supernatural hero’s who think I kidnapped my wife!” Valerie said much quieter but you could still hear the fire of her rage that the edges of her voice and after a brief pause she continued with

“Now you better stop or I will find a way to kill your ass permanently” and with that she left as soon as she showed up unannounced.

Clockwork just sat in silence for a moment

“I’m a keep doing it”

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Little Things•

•Valerie is the husband and Danny the wife in this and no you can not change my mind :)

•Val only calls Clockwork “Father-In-Law” is because of her respect and love for Danny as her wife

•Danny calls Clockwork “Patér”

•Danny is completely cool with being called Val’s Wife and calling her his husband, if anything he likes it

•Val is sick and tired of supernatural entities/ supernatural hero’s trying to kidnap Danny back to the realms or trying to fight for his hand in marriage, Not that any of that worked but she’s getting real sick of it

~{ Will add on too later if I feel like it }~

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Appearance•

Danny

Ghost Zone

With a shit ton of black and silver jewelry [+ and pants version!]

Val

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

~{And that’s it! Hope you gremlins like it sorry if it’s worded weirdly I am running on caffeine but this is a very funny idea lol, anyway until next time byeeeeee}~

[captainmalewriter]

Just Like Him

Lewis stood in front of his bathroom mirror with an ancient tome full of magic spells in hand. He had stolen it from an antique bookstore just the other day. All it took was slipping the book into his jacket as he walked out the door. Now, a world full of powerful magic opened up to him- and without ANY restrictions.

Lewis grinned as he mentally rehearsed the incantation he was about to cast. He couldn't decide what spell to cast first, but after hitting the gym that morning, Lewis knew exactly which one he wanted to use. He wanted to steal the appearance of the handsome gym bro he saw at the gym. In Lewis' mind, Darwin was the embodiment of a perfect man. Good looks, bulky body, cute face with a full beard... No doubt a man like him could get any woman or man he wanted. Lewis knew he liked Darwin from the moment he saw him. But his attraction went beyond just the physical. His lust was infused with intense envy. Lewis wanted nothing more to become Darwin and was ready to use magic to accomplish that. Surely, his luck in the dating world would increase tenfold with a body and face like Darwin's.

Feeling determined, Lewis took a quick breath then set the book down. He focused on his reflection in the mirror, then recited the spell from the ancient tome.

serised ym fo tcejbo eht emoceb i llit ydob ym mrofsnart wen eht htiw ni dlo eht htiw tou

Once he recited the last syllable, a wave of nausea hit him like a semi truck. His face tingled as stubble along his jawline came in. Lewis was never able to grow much facial hair, but that changed thanks to the magic spell. Stubble soon became a full beard and thick mustache as seconds on the clock ticked away. Lewis smirked at himself as his face morphed to match his gym crush. Within minutes, his original face was gone and in its place was the hot Filipino Darwin.

Then, he felt a sudden tenderness in his chest area. Lewis had always been a rather thin, flat-chested man. His pectoral muscles were growing at an explosive speed. Lewis bounced in place his pecs grew heavier and heavier, causing them to jiggle from their newfound heft. Loud, whiny moans left Lewis' lips as he pinched his sensitive nips. His torso thickened up with mass too until his body filled in the baggy wife beater he was wearing. Yet despite growing bigger, his body fat percentage remained low, giving Lewis the physique of a big, cuddly man with visible ab lines but still had plenty for a lover to grab and play with.

"OHHHH FUCKK MANNN!!!"

Lewis cried out with delight as he felt a surge of blood rush to his groin. No doubt it was just a physical reaction to the magic hitting the lower half of his body. He became fully erect within seconds, but something felt inexplicably off. Lewis was blessed with a well-endowed cock. He knew how his big tool sat in his pants when he was hard. It didn't feel the same this time. With bated breath, Lewis pulled out his underwear and took a peek at his- or rather, Darwin's tool. His jaw dropped when he saw his once 7.5 inch monster shrink until it was just slightly below average at around 5 inches.

"What the fuck? Nooo..."

Lewis was powerless to stop the shrinking. He wanted to become an exact copy of Darwin after all, and like a computer program, the spell he cast was just doing its job.

But while Lewis was focused on his new package, his butt began growing bigger and rounder until he had the perfect bubble butt of a man who never skipped leg day at the gym. The elastic waistbands of his briefs and sweats stretched out a bit as they had to accommodate his new dump truck. Darwin had an ass that turned heads when he walked into the room. Lewis himself knew how true this was. He couldn't help but take a good, long look or two (or three) as Darwin hit his squats. But as mouthwatering Darwin's butt was, Lewis was a total top. He was more interested in putting Darwin's tool to work than having someone lay it down on him.

Or so he thought. As his ass became the perfect size and firmness, Lewis' thought patterns began changing too. Suddenly, all he could think about was finding a long, girthy cock to tame his hungry hole. Dreams and ideals of a monogamous relationship were erased from his mind and in their place was Darwin's burning desire as a power bottom to be used and bred by any attractive man he came across. Just imagining taking backstrokes from a gang of big, strong men making his cheeks clap with every thrust was enough to make Lewis drip with pre. Soon enough, Lewis had become a perfect copy of Darwin just like he wanted. Both in body, and in horny mind.

[senualothbrok]

Carried Away

Summary: A response to @dekariosclan 's request for some good old fashioned boring bed sex with Gale. (Read the ask as it's a masterpiece of smut in itself). I hope this is boring enough for you, my dear 🫶 (it became more tender than hot, I hope this is ok😅)

Word count: 817

Disclaimers: NSFW. Smut. Vaginal sex / penetration.

AO3 link

When a rustle of cool air tickles your shoulder, you clutch at the blanket. Cocooned in the darkness of sleep, you are vaguely aware of the warmth of his body, his tired heave as he slides into bed beside you. You roll towards him, the scent of his teaching robes still clinging to his pores.

“What time is it?” you croak.

“Four o’ clock,” he breathes. “Go back to sleep.”

You grizzle. As his arm drapes over you, you bury your nose in the silk of his hair.

“So late,” you mumble.

Memory flickers in your slumber. The untouched dinner left on his desk in the study. His brisk peck on your cheek when you wished him goodnight. Your fleeting resignation as you glanced at the Gale-shaped hole beside you before you blew the candle out.

“Forgive me, my love.” His soft lips graze your forehead. “I got carried away with the modifications I was making to--"

A gaping yawn swallows his words. You nuzzle into him, your fingers seeking his. His legs tangle into yours, the tendrils of sleep wrapping around your bodies. He lets out a small sound, half-moan, half-breath, as his nose settles into the crook between your neck and shoulder. 

It could be minutes or hours. You drift through the veil between dreams and wakefulness, Gale’s breathing a soothing rhythm against your skin. From a distance, you feel the firm brush of his toes against your calf, a hard heat whispering against your thigh.

You ignore it at first. But a gentle pressure is circling your nipple, trailing down to your navel. A faint wetness tingles on your earlobe, his rasp trembling through you like a siren. Your lips search the roughness of his beard as you press against him. 

His mouth is open when you find it. His length nestles into your core, firm and insistent. Your tongues are lazy and slow as you savour his taste, thick with sleep and stupor and need. In the blind haze of exhaustion and desire, you do not need speech. Nor do you need light to find the points of each other’s pleasure, imprinted on your senses like an ancient map. 

He does not need to ask when he hooks his knee around your waist, pulling you closer. You do not need to check before your hand dips into his briefs to free the thrust of his cock. It surges against your touch as you skim his leaking tip, tracing the veins that twitch on his girth. You know them as well as the lines on your own palm, the heady fragrance of his musk. You relish each other’s groans as you lift your leg over his, guiding him into your waiting folds. And when, with one long stroke, he fills you to the brim, the ache that flares is like a spell. 

Your fingers fist into his tousled hair, the peaks of your nipples rubbing raw against his chest as he rocks. He clasps the cheeks of your ass in a silent demand, and you whimper as you angle your leg wider, inviting him deeper, into the deepest parts of you, reserved for him alone. You arch your back as he pumps into you with growing urgency. A throbbing hunger pulses with his every pant and plunge. You are fully awake now, and so is he.

“I missed you.” He laps and sucks at your mouth, your earlobe, your chin. “Gods, I missed you.”

“I'm here.” You grind against him, desperate for more. For all of him. “I’m yours.”

You clutch at his muscles, hard and taut as he rolls into you with gathering speed, a raging flood against your banks. There is no reserve, no restraint in him, nothing but love and unbridled need. Your walls clench around his stretching stiffness. 

“I love you."

He spasms, a shaking hand cupping your cheek, his forehead pushing against yours in a mist of sweat and sandalwood and desire.

“I love you.”

Your tongues are a ravenous frenzy, his beard a dizzying rasp against your chin. His hips snap furiously as he bottoms out again and again.

“I love you.”

You can no longer tell if it is his voice or yours, or where his touch meets your own in the darkness. You are one body, one soul, and when you cry out and shatter into each other, you cannot tell where his ecstasy ends and yours begins.

He remains inside you as your chests rise and fall, your breaths slackening. Sated, complete, your kisses become languid and halting. When he pulls out, he plants a feather light kiss on the tip of your nose, and you let out a silent laugh. Your fingers remain intertwined as his arm returns to drape over you, where it belongs.

“I forgive you,” you murmur, and you feel him smile into your skin as you sink back into sleep.

***

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[lazy4honey]

Still Water Runs Deep

Thought process for combining ideas: Farmer Boy and the Lake = male reader x tentacles = haunted bathtub = the sentient hot spring

Contains: male reader, dub-con, tentacles, anal penetration, prostate stimulation, slight belly bulge, lot of 💦, NSFW & MDNI

That winter, you could hear the ice of the frozen lake sing. High creaks and low groans echoed across the vast expanse like the calls of some beast, eerie and haunting yet indescribably beautiful.

You and your friends walked over the ice, running and laughing while teasing each other as usual when the ice beneath you suddenly gave in. The next moment, you found yourself surrounded by freezing cold water, uncontrollably weighed down by your thick clothing and slowly sinking amidst your struggled.

Before you could clock what exactly was happening to you, you felt someone grab you, pull you up to the hole you broke into the ice and made you resurface. You coughed put the water, tears clouding your sight as you clung to the edge, and your panicked friends quickly yet carefully helped you out. Afterwards, you asked who’d saved you, but they just looked at you incomprehensibly. No one but you had broken through the ice, and you came up by yourself. There was no one else.

Ever since then, your friends and other villagers avoided the lake, but you still regularly went there. Strangely, it made you feel safe, as if there would always be someone to pull you up when you were feeling down.

In this way summer came and the burning hot sun made you feel like you were being boiled alive. To escape this unpleasant sensation, you went to the lake to take a bath in the cool waters shaded by the ancient trees.

You took off your clothes and sighed in relief as you slipped into the water. Before the incident, you’d always bathe like this with your friends and other older men from the village, but now, you had the lake all to yourself. It was quiet and peaceful, just you and the lake.

You entertained yourself by splashing water and observing the drops twinkling in the bright sunlight as they flew through the air, and then leisurely started swimming. With slow, broad strokes, you quickly distanced yourself from the shore and unknowingly reached a deeper area of the lake, where your toes could only barely reach the ground.

And then you felt it.

Something cold and slippery that felt like a sleek tentacle clung to your ankle and wound up along your legs towards your torso. You were too surprised to react as it entangled your limbs and wrapped around your waist, holding you in place with just your head above the water and the rest obscured by the shadowy depths.

The thing wandered all over your body. It squeezed your thighs and ass, grazed your joints like a lover’s kiss, and lingered on your nipples and cock that were hardening from its strangely thrilling touch colder than the water, prodding in a way that almost seemed to convey a sense of innocent curiosity.

And then it found your asshole.

Soft tentacles chilling like ice cubes slithered down the small of your back and between your ass cheeks, past your balls and over your perineum, rubbing themselves against the tight folds of your puckered hole.

The sensation woke you from your stupor. You struggled to resist, flailing your arms and thrashing the water, but the watery tentacles just wrapped you up more securely. They kneaded your flesh and jerked your cock, alternating between quick and slow strokes, a loose and tight grip, stimulating you to your peak. And then you felt a strange sucking on your cock, as if the water itself was slurping up your cum.

Moaning and writhing helplessly in the grasp of the cold tentacles, pleasure started to build once more as they licked and tugged and kneaded, and one tentacle even rubbed against your perineum until you felt the strange tingle it caused deep inside you, making you cum again with a loud, choked moan.

It felt like the tentacles were about to continue when a shout sounded from the distance, calling out for you. They loosened their hold and slowly let go of you, reluctantly tugging on your toes before completely withdrawing and leaving you by the shore.

You breathlessly clung to the rocks. Looking back, you could see nothing but the small waves of the lake. As if that water monster had never been there.

You left the lake in confusion, and only by the time you lay alone in your bed and were about to sleep did your mind settle enough to think about this strange incident. Although you had felt scared at first, the watery monster’s actions had been very… pleasurable. It was even better than when you did it yourself, touching all your sensitive spots all at once, almost like an intimate lover who’d known you for years. Even just thinking back on it, you meant to feel the cold touch burning on your skin, and your abdomen shamefully tightened with excitement.

So the next day, you went back to the lake. You swam to the same spot and eagerly anticipated the touch of the unknown water creature’s slick tentacles.

And as expected, they wound up your legs and tangled you up, holding you in place with your head above the water and the rest hidden beneath the surface. This time, you held onto the tentacles, leaning into their touch and even thrusting your cock into the creature’s cool grasp, enthusiastically participating in this originally one-sided, intimate contact.

With tentacles sliding over your skin, tugging on your nipples, balls and cock, you didn’t mind as one thin tentacle made its way to your asshole. It gently rubbed against the puckered folds, wetting your rear with its cold slime, and then carefully entered. You only realized what this thing had done when you felt a strange pressure inside you that made you abruptly cum with a loud moan, the amount and duration unprecedented, the enthralling pleasure making your muscles twitch in climax.

By the time your sight cleared up from the tears of ecstasy you’d just shed, your heart was still pounding in your chest. Each beat resonated till your fingertips, throbbing pleasantly in your abdomen and crotch.

The thin tentacle retreated from your asshole, only to immediately be replaced by a significantly thicker one. It slowly stretched the folds of your hole and sunk deep inside, firmly pressing and rubbing against a certain spot within you. You quickly became hard again, jerkingly grinding your needy, leaking cock against the tentacles.

The tentacles were pleased with your reaction, taking it as invitation to act more unrestrainedly. It shoved one tentacle into your mouth, curling around your tongue, while stuffing another up your asshole. The tentacles rammed into you, pounding against your pleasure spot, while the other tentacles stroked your cock, snaked down into your foreskin to hold your glans, massaged your balls, and sucked on your nipples. You violently came with a scream muffled by the tentacle in your mouth. Your cock throbbed and your asshole fluttered around the tentacles. The water monster seemed to greatly enjoy this as it picked up its pace and finally erupted, shooting a cold liquid into you that extended your orgasm.

But even then, it didn’t stop. The tentacles unceasingly plunged into you, stuffing you to the brim. It milked your cum and made your belly bulge with the size of its tentacles and the cold cum it repeatedly pumped into you, turning you into a twitching, slobbering mess.

By the time it set you down on the shore, your body was so weak from all the cumming that you couldn’t get up, and your asshole was unable to close, shooting out clear slimy cum with each labored breath.

The tentacles caressed you with satisfaction, and then retreated.

You smiled.

You were already clear in your mind — you’d be back for another round.

[brookghaib-blog]

The Weight of Familiar Things

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x reader

Summary: After breaking up in high school, Y/N had never really moved on from the best relationship of her life with Bob after he disappear out of thin air. While working on her shift, Bob reappears the same away he went away.

Word Count: 3,4k

--

The store buzzed softly with the usual low hum of midweek monotony — the steady beep of barcode scanners, the distant whirr of the refrigerator units near the dairy aisle, and the occasional squawk from the ancient intercom that insisted on cutting off half of every announcement.

Y/N stood at the express register, elbows resting on the cool laminate counter as she lazily spun the lid of a half-full bottle of Gatorade she’d stashed behind the till. The clock above the frozen foods section blinked indifferently — 4:07 PM. Still three more hours until she could bolt out of here, rip off the stiff red vest with the faded name tag, and try to salvage enough brainpower for a database systems assignment.

Her shift had been... tolerable. Not slow enough to be bored, but not busy enough to lose herself in the chaos either. Just a constant trickle of shoppers with shopping carts full of existential dread and discount coupons.

“You will not believe what just happened in aisle six,” came the dramatic whisper of Meg, her bestie and co-worker, who appeared from around the shelf like a gossip-hungry ninja.

Y/N straightened up, instantly suspicious. “What now?”

Meg leaned against the counter with all the grace of a wounded goose and sighed deeply, like she was about to recount war crimes. “So, I’m helping Mrs. Kowalski pick out a gluten-free cereal because her nephew has, like, six allergies, and suddenly this dude — I swear to you, hand to my future nutrition degree — this absolute menace shows up and starts harassing everyone in the cereal aisle.”

Y/N blinked. “Wait, like, harassing how?”

Meg rolled her eyes so hard it looked like she might pass out from the effort. “Like ‘hey, girl, are you cereal? Because I wanna eat you for breakfast’ kind of harassing. To Mrs. Kowalski. Who is, like, seventy and barely understands what a protein bar is.”

Y/N nearly snorted out her drink. “No. He did not.”

“He did!” Meg stabbed a finger at the air. “And then when she looked confused and kind of alarmed, he tried to recover by saying she had a ‘youthful aura’ and asked if she believed in reincarnation because he thinks they met in a past life.” Meg paused, raised an eyebrow. “In ancient Egypt. I wish I was making this up.”

Y/N was wheezing now, covering her mouth to avoid attracting customer attention. “Was he on something?”

“I don’t know, but if he was, I want a refund for him because whatever it was clearly failed.” Meg looked genuinely insulted on behalf of humanity. “I told him he had five seconds to get his Tutankhamun-loving ass out of the cereal aisle before I got Jason from produce to ‘escort’ him.”

“Oh my God,” Y/N giggled, leaning over the counter as if it helped her breathe better through the laughter. “You didn’t.”

“I did. Jason threatened to hit him with a bunch of unripe bananas. It was poetic.” Meg smiled smugly, brushing invisible dust off her shoulder like she was a bouncer at a nightclub instead of a student in a grocery vest.

Y/N wiped her eyes. “And this all happened during your gluten-free consultation?”

“Oh, Mrs. Kowalski was living for the drama,” Meg said, lowering her voice. “She literally asked me if she could follow me on Instagram after. Said I had ‘star energy.��� I think I accidentally became her new granddaughter.”

“That’s better than when she told me I look like someone who forgets to eat lunch.”

Meg clutched her chest. “Ouch. Brutal. But also accurate.”

“Rude.” Y/N narrowed her eyes but smiled. “Anyway, are you sure this guy left? I don't want to deal with some reincarnated cereal prophet asking me if I believe in destiny while I'm trying to stock the frozen waffles.”

Meg gestured dramatically toward the front doors. “Gone. Jason banana-walked him out. One of the little kids clapped.”

They both laughed again, louder this time, drawing a suspicious glance from Dan, the thirty-something manager who took his job too seriously and wore khakis like a lifestyle. He always hovered just a little too close to the walkie-talkie strapped to his belt like it was a police badge.

“Act busy,” Y/N hissed.

Meg grabbed a roll of receipt paper and pretended to read the ingredients printed on the cardboard core. “Wow. 100%... pulp.”

Y/N bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

The moment passed, and Meg leaned against the counter again, looking more relaxed. “Hey, you okay today?” she asked quietly, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “You’ve been zoning out between customers like you’re trying to access a hidden file in your brain.”

Y/N sighed. “Just school stuff. I’ve got a network systems quiz tomorrow, and I think I forgot how logic gates work.”

“You’re too smart,” Meg said. “I read a label backward today and got excited that I can still read.”

“I’d trade my brain for your social skills and sense of self-worth.”

“I’d trade my lungs for a nap.” Meg sighed. “And maybe a boyfriend. Or at least someone taller than a bag of dog food.”

Y/N smirked. “You’re setting the bar low, huh?”

“I’m setting the bar realistic,” Meg said. “You ever lifted a 50-pound sack of kibble? That’s some sturdy energy. I want a man who could stop a shopping cart with one hand and still help me study anatomy later, if you know what I mean.”

Y/N made a choking noise. “You’re disgusting.”

Meg grinned. “You love me.”

Y/N shook her head, but she did. She really did. Somehow, amidst their shared suffering at the mercy of impatient customers and barcode scanners, they’d built a friendship that made even the worst shifts manageable.

Just then, the front door sensors gave a low chime as someone new entered the store.

Meg peered over Y/N’s shoulder, then leaned in again. “Oh. Speaking of kibble-worthy men…”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Don’t say it—”

“Tall. Brown hair. Weird posture. Looks like he doesn’t know how to buy cereal either. Wanna bet if he’s gonna ask about reincarnation?”

Y/N followed her gaze toward the cereal aisle.

Y/N squinted toward the cereal aisle as Meg leaned in like a commentator at a fashion show.

“Tall,” Meg whispered. “He’s wearing... what is that? Cargo pants? And—yep, oversize sweater that looks big even on his hands. Tell me that doesn’t scream your exact type.”

Y/N huffed. “You think every man is my type if he’s above six feet and looks like he hasn’t slept in three days.”

“Because those are the men who write poetry about you in the dark,” Meg said, eyes narrowed like a seer. “That guy? He looks like he’s been through something. Like he owns exactly one bowl and stares out the window when it rains.”

Y/N tilted her head again. The man — tall, broad, messy hair that looked like he ran his hand through it too often, faint stubble on his jaw — was crouched in front of the granola. Not really inspecting brands. More like… zoning out. His hand hovered over a box, then pulled back.

And there was something about him. Something familiar.

“I… I think I know him,” Y/N muttered, brow furrowed.

Meg gasped. “Wait. Seriously? You dated someone with main character hair and didn’t tell me?”

“I don’t know if I dated him—! I said he looks familiar. Like I’ve seen him before. But I can’t place it.” Y/N crossed her arms. “Maybe from campus? Or a lab partner from freshman year?”

Meg wiggled her eyebrows. “Lab partner turned life partner, let’s goooo.”

Y/N gave her a look. “Meg, he’s buying cereal.”

“And we sell hope. Don’t kill the vibe.”

The two broke into giggles again, their laughter light in the otherwise empty front end of the store. Dan was thankfully nowhere in sight, probably grilling someone in frozen foods about FIFO rotation again. The store was in its sleepy lull between the after-school snack rush and the post-commute dinner crowd, which meant just enough time for existential dread or flirting, whichever came first.

A few minutes later, the man — still slightly hunched, as if he hadn’t fully adapted to existing in public — approached Y/N’s register with a small wire basket.

She straightened up automatically, scanning him as professionally as she could. The basket only held a few items: a loaf of multigrain bread, two cups of plain Greek yogurt, and a small bundle of bananas. Not even the good kind of snacky grocery run. It looked… survivalist.

Up close, he looked even more out of place. Handsome, definitely, but not polished. Like he had been handsome by accident, without any effort or maintenance. His hoodie had a tear near the left cuff. His knuckles looked bruised.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gravel-soft and low. “Just these.”

Y/N smiled politely, fingers moving to scan the items. “No problem.”

There was a brief, awkward pause.

She glanced up. He was watching her — not in a creepy way, but like he was trying to solve a puzzle. And for some reason, that expression made the back of her neck tingle.

“You look… really familiar,” she said before she could stop herself.

He blinked. Then gave a small, lopsided smile. “Yeah. I was gonna say the same.”

There was another second of hesitation — and then he set the basket down fully, like he was settling into the moment. “Y/N L/N, right?”

She stiffened a little. “Wait—what?”

“I’m Bob,” he said, slow and unsure, almost like it felt foreign coming out of his mouth. “Bob Reynolds. We… used to date. Back in high school.”

A beat passed.

A very long beat.

Then Meg, who had suddenly materialized from behind a gum display, made a noise that sounded like a suppressed sneeze, only it ended in a strangled laugh. She coughed wildly, slapping her own chest like she was choking on an Altoid.

Y/N’s mouth opened, then closed again. Her eyes scanned his face now, digging past the messy hair and sunken tiredness, through the faint stubble and older, more grown-out shape of him. And yes — yes, of course — it was him.

“Holy crap,” she breathed. “Bob. Bob Reynolds. You… you used to have an earing and used to wear those terrible denim jackets.”

Bob cracked a half-smile. “Guilty. I, uh… grew out of one of those.”

“Yeah,” she said, still stunned.

“Figured I’d evolve,” he replied dryly, glancing down at his feet.

Meg was gripping the gum rack now like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

“You were... in my chem class,” Y/N said slowly. “And you used to draw on your notebooks and refuse to dissect frogs.”

“You did the frog for me,” Bob added.

“You looked like you were going to cry,” she shot back with a grin.

“I was very emotionally sensitive about amphibians.”

“I thought you moved away,” she said, still trying to reconcile high school Bob — the quiet, awkward guy who somehow got her attention despite being allergic to school spirit — with the man standing in front of her now.

“I did. For a while. Just got back recently. Kind of laying low.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t expect to run into anyone I knew. Let alone you.”

Meg, now fully inserted into the conversation, leaned in way too far over the counter. “Y/N was basically queen of the school, by the way. You got the cheerleader valedictorian combo and then ghosted? Savage.”

Bob looked mortified. “I didn’t ghost.”

“She’s kidding,” Y/N said, elbowing Meg. “Mostly.”

“Mostly not,” Meg whispered behind her hand, still grinning.

Bob shifted awkwardly, then finally held out his hand, as if trying to restart everything. “It’s really good to see you, though. You look… the same. Better, actually.”

Y/N took his hand, surprised at how warm it was. Solid. Grounded. “You look…” she hesitated. “Different.”

“Good different or ‘have-you-been-living-in-a-bunker’ different?”

“Depends. How long has that hoodie been alive?”

Bob laughed — a quiet, honest sound. “Long enough to be considered a roommate.”

Meg dramatically fanned herself with a flyer. “I’m going to die right here in aisle one from sexual tension.”

“Go. Stock yogurt.” Y/N hissed through her teeth.

“Yes ma'am.” Meg whispered, backing away with a wink and mouthing call me later like this was a teen drama.

Y/N turned back to Bob, who was trying to smother a grin. She bagged his groceries quickly, handing them over as if she needed her hands busy or else they’d start shaking from the weird flood of emotions creeping up her spine.

“So… you staying around for a while?” she asked.

“Yeah. Trying to figure things out.”

“Well. You know where the bread and yogurt are now.”

Bob took the bag with a nod. “Thanks. For… uh. This. Talking to me.”

She shrugged, softening. “Anytime. I work most afternoons.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

And then he left — walking back out into the spring afternoon like a dream someone half-remembered after waking up. The automatic doors hissed shut behind him.

Meg came sprinting back over like a cartoon character. “Okay. What the hell was that?”

Y/N stared at the door, eyes wide, mind buzzing. “That was Bob. From high school.”

Meg’s jaw dropped. “That’s the Bob? The Bob??”

“I didn’t know he was back.”

Meg stared at her. “Girl. You had a mysterious sad boy phase before it was cool, and you never told me?”

Y/N blinked, mouth slowly turning into a smile. “It’s been a weird day.”

Meg sighed dramatically. “I’m buying you a lottery ticket after shift. Because clearly, the universe is sending you something.”

“Bread and yogurt?”

Meg grinned. “Or closure. Or maybe just the hottest second chance romance I’ve ever seen play out between cereal and a banana threat.”

They both dissolved into laughter again, the kind of laughter that bubbled up from something bigger — something starting.

And in the distance, Bob Reynolds walked home, a little confused, a little nervous.

--

High School Cafeteria, Junior Year

The cafeteria buzzed with the chaotic energy only high school lunch breaks could summon. Trays clattered, someone’s Bluetooth speaker played muffled bass under a hoodie, and the student body fractured into its social tribes: athletes hoarding pizza slices, theater kids rehearsing lines with dramatic fork stabs, and the STEM table arguing over something on a calculator like it was national policy.

Y/N sat with her usual group at the round table by the window — the so-called “popular kids,” though she hated the term. It felt like something from a teen drama rather than real life. Still, it was true that most of the school knew her name. Not in the mean-girl, tiara-wearing way, but because she was… everywhere. Cheer team captain. AP classes. Friendly with the faculty. Genuinely kind. She was the kind of person who remembered people’s birthdays and always knew which vending machine stocked the good trail mix.

Today, though, she was buzzing with something else entirely. Her eyes kept darting to the cafeteria doors every few seconds, even as her friends gossiped.

“So then,” said Jasmine, twirling a plastic spoon like a wand, “I caught Chloe writing ‘Mrs. Max Danvers’ in her notebook. In gel pen. With hearts.”

“She’s so delusional,” Lexi groaned, picking at her salad. “Max hasn’t liked anyone since eighth grade and that was his dog.”

Y/N laughed but not fully — her mind halfway across the school, willing a very specific someone to walk through those doors.

“Okay, Y/N,” said Jasmine, poking her. “Are you even here? What’s with you today?”

“Huh? Oh—” Y/N flushed slightly, biting into a grape and glancing back at the doors.

Lexi gasped. “Oh my God. She’s waiting for her emo prince, isn’t she?”

Y/N tried to look annoyed, but her smile gave her away. “He’s not emo.”

“He literally wore a shirt with a crow on it yesterday,” Jasmine said. “And headphones inside class.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, just as the doors creaked open with a buzz of late students scanning in.

And then—there he was.

Bob Reynolds stepped into the cafeteria like he didn’t belong to it. Tall, slightly slouched, backpack slung over one shoulder with a broken strap safety-pinned together. His hoodie was faded, his jeans frayed at the edges, and his hair looked like he had woken up five minutes ago — but God, her heart skipped every time she saw him.

He scanned the room once with those deep-set eyes and barely smiled — but Y/N knew the look he saved just for her.

Her entire face lit up like a switch flipped. “I’ll be right back,” she said, practically leaping from her chair.

Jasmine looked like she was watching a royal engagement. “She’s sprinting. We’ve lost her.”

Y/N weaved through tables, ignoring wolf whistles from the football guys and eye-rolls from sophomores, until she reached him. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around his neck.

“Hey, stranger,” she beamed, hugging him tight.

Bob’s expression softened like snow melting off a roof. He caught her waist, pulling her close. “Hey.”

And then she kissed him.

Not a peck. Not a shy hallway kiss. This was the full, smile-into-it, kiss-you-like-I’ve-waited-all-morning kind of kiss.

Someone behind them muttered, “Jesus, get a room,” but neither of them noticed.

“You’re late,” she murmured against his mouth, smiling too hard to be stern.

“Had to stay behind in chem. My sulfur compound exploded. Again.”

She laughed. “You’re really bad at chemistry.”

“I’m not bad at it,” he said, feigning offense. “It’s just hostile toward me.”

“Come sit with us.” She tugged his hand, already pulling him through the maze of tables. “You need to eat something that isn’t vending machine trail mix.”

Bob hesitated, but didn’t resist. “Are you sure?”

“They love you,” she said.

That was… a stretch. But he followed anyway.

Back at the table, Jasmine made a dramatic bow as Y/N returned with Bob in tow. “Ah yes. Our table’s brooding king returns.”

Bob raised a hand in greeting. “Hey.”

Lexi gave him a once-over. “Still refusing to cut that hair, I see.”

“It’s almost finals season. I’m growing it in protest.”

“You protest everything.”

He shrugged. “Someone has to.”

Y/N took her seat and dragged him down next to her. His tray only had a banana and a bottle of water, so she immediately started giving him half her sandwich.

“You’re gonna die of scurvy,” she said, breaking it in half.

“You say that like it’s dramatic,” he replied, but took the sandwich anyway.

The group settled into chatter — mostly about the upcoming dance, rumors about a surprise fire drill, and whether Mr. Thomas was dating the substitute gym teacher. Bob didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. He sat with an ease he didn’t have his sophomore year, when people whispered “Isn’t that the guy who tagged the music room lockers?”

He was still a mystery — still quiet, still aloof — but Y/N changed how people looked at him. She always touched his arm when she spoke. She brought him into jokes. She looked at him like he mattered.

And that mattered.

As the others got distracted ranking the weirdest school lunch meat ("Turkey, then ham, then the one they call 'mystery cube'"), Y/N turned slightly, her knee brushing his.

“I missed you today,” she said quietly, almost too private for the lunchroom’s roar.

He looked at her — really looked — and his voice dropped. “I missed you too.”

“You okay?” she asked, tilting her head.

Bob nodded. “Just tired. But I’m good now.”

She kissed his cheek. He turned. Their lips met again, slower this time.

From across the table, Jasmine let out a strangled groan. “You guys. Please.”

Lexi fake gagged with her spoon. “You know we can see you, right?”

Y/N leaned back with a huge grin. “You’re just jealous.”

“I’m jealous of the PDA fog you two are putting out,” Lexi said.

Bob smirked. “We’ll tone it down.”

“No, you won’t,” Jasmine sighed. “You’re gonna get married and make out in the produce aisle and we’re all gonna have to pretend we didn’t see it.”

Y/N leaned her head on Bob’s shoulder. “Promise we’ll invite you to the wedding.”

Bob whispered, just for her, “You know I love you, right?”

She turned her head, eyes soft. “Yeah. I love you too.”

And there it was — in the middle of greasy pizza trays, laughing friends, and the smell of old tater tots — a perfect little moment carved out of time.

Two kids in love.

So stupidly, beautifully in love.

[diz-eaze]

what r ur thoughts on yan!ororon? idk if ur into him like that but he has ZERO yan content 💔 idk i think he'd be such a pathetic stalker who barely has the nerve to approach u but knows literally every facet of ur day to day life. in universe he definitely invades ur dreams to make u think of him hes so romantic <3

; yandere, manipulating your dreams, not proofread, granny citlali did not raise him to be like this :/

i ADORE canon ororon. while playing the archon quest, the stark contrast between his appearance and attitude really endeared him to me LMFAO, he's just so whimsical and silly while still being weirdly deadpan at times, omg. which is why yandere ororon is such a funny thought to me. imagining him as a freak,,,, oughghghg,,,, plus, the fact that he's canonically considered eccentric by the tribe that's KNOWN for having weirdos?? yeah, they clocked his ass I fear.

anyways! please take my two cents on yan ororon <3 (no chronological order);

as a man raised by the reputable shaman citlali, ororon's childhood was filled with afternoons spent reading books. sometimes, it's granny citali who reads aloud to him while he stares up in wonder, mind set ablaze with imagination. it's through his granny that he learned of the term 'soulmates' - the idea of a deep, intrinsic connection felt for another that can not be replicated with anyone else is everything he ever wanted. he wonders, then, is that the reason why my soul is incomplete? because it's searching for my soulmate? if that was truly the case, then perhaps living to see his soulmate is worthwhile. so when ororon first meets you, he feels as if his 'incomplete' soul has finally been repaired - completed after countless years of pondering over his life's purpose. your presence fits seamlessly into his routine, and when he exhales, there is no lingering pain or pinpricks that stab at his heart. instead, he feels... content. this must be the result of meeting your soulmate, he concludes.

as mentioned in the aq, ororon lives in isolation away from the masters of the night wind tribe, much preferring to live with his cabbages and radish stocks. so when you enter the picture, he fully expects you to just unanimously agree to live with him :/ and through his mysterious means you end up being coerced into it (mostly because he looks like a kicked puppy when you refuse and like,,, ur not about to be on granny citlali's hitlist ok). knowing that he talks to his veggies and inanimate objects as if it's actual people, it kinda gets to his head that they are your children and you two are the parents. playing house as a kid is one thing, but playing house as adults with VEGETABLES AND WOODEN FENCES??? has he got no shame omg... he'll gently open the door as to not startle 'doorie', he carefully steps over the fields of grass to ensure 'grasston' isn't disturbed much, and oh, did you know? 'applie' is looking to grow up as a very red apple - how touching. then he just looks over to you as he tells this, and the whole time you're staring at him like he's insane (he is).

ororon doesn't call you by any pet names. natlan places great importance on names because of the ancient names, so he feels as if it's a great disservice to your existence if he were to call you anything but your given name. instead, ororon utters out your name with pure reverence, each syllable intoned with absolute wonder and affection while he kneels before you. he never speaks of your name with anything but love and worship - he can't even fathom the idea of defiling your name by lacing his tone with even a hint of anger. it is simply sacrilegious for him. after all, you are a sanctuary in your own right.

as ifa had put it, once he's made his mind up, it's almost impossible to change it (we've seen this side of him in the aq when he decided to temporarily join capitano's cause). ororon is relentlessly stubborn in his pursuit after you. he gifts you vegetables from his farm every time you encounter him, and while his skills in scroll weaving may be... inadequate, he tries his best to give you a decent one to hang up in your room. the woven scroll, despite his best efforts, is clearly lacking the touch of expertise, but it's still clear it was made by him through the colors incorporated in - ororon hopes you'll think of him every time you see it. and when you become receptive to his first batch of gifts, then it snowballs into more and more trinkets and items decorating your house. he's there, while not being physically inside your space.

on the topic of giving you vegetables,,, please don't buy fresh stock from any other farmer, he'll crash out. his vegetables are top quality, made with love, harvested with care, made cost-free just for you, and planted with you on his mind !!! ororon often doesn't harbor any negative emotions, but this is one instance where he does. he gets envious, the ugly feeling burning up in his chest - comparable to the sacred flames. for the sake of everyone involved, just let him be your farmer bruh.

but alternatively, a few yan ororon who has NO rizz thoughts bc I also love ur version of ororon teehee,,:

on the topic of invading dreams, he definitely uses the same type of incense from the aq. if you're unknowing of his tribe's practices, then you'll easily bite the bullet of him claiming it's just a normal incense when he lights it up. he exits your inn room after, and you're left feeling hazy, trying to fight off the drowning lull of sleep. but as expected, you're deep in slumber within 5 minutes of the incense burning. the door creaks open, and when ororon takes a peek at you, his cheeks are flushed bright red - slight disbelief dances across his face, shocked at how easy it was to have you asleep and pliable for him. he almost drools at the prospect of finally seeing your dreams. he puts out the flame needed for the incense, and he takes a closer step. then another. and another, until he opts to sit at the edge of the guest bed, eyes raking your unconscious state in, and he puts in the work. he dissects your dreams, tearing at each element present, limb by limb, to understand you at your most vulnerable state of mind. where does your dream take place? what exactly are you doing? who are the people present there? what time of the day is it? are you in another planet? - he'll know it all, nothing will escape past his watchful eyes.

^ he said this because he already did it to violate his darling's privacy btw (delusional).

ororon definitely manipulates your dreams to include him dicking you down okay conditioning king. i mean, who said that???

ororon as a stalker is actually so terrifying since it's CANONICAL that he is, in fact, a good one !! it's stated that the traveler couldn't hear him approaching and whether that's the product of his tribe's techniques or simply his own doesn't undermine him as a freak at all,,,, he could be stalking you for months, years, and you're blissfully unaware because of how well he conceals his presence. he's your second shadow - sometimes even getting closer to you than your actual shadow. you don't hear the sound of his heartbeat, you don't feel strands of his hair resting atop your head, you don't hear his footsteps, and you're ignorant to his heavy gaze. he's a master of his craft. and well, that's how he intends to keep it, at least until he gathers enough courage to finally introduce himself to you. similar to his bat motifs, I like to think he's nocturnal. so when you go to sleep, he's outside your bedroom window watching you :)

ororon views your soul very intimately. apart from surveying your dream, ororon also picks apart your very soul - after all, this is undoubtedly the core of you. there's just something about seeing you past the flesh and bones and to witness the beauty found underneath it. unlike him, the outlier, you're born with a complete soul - a fact that he finds peculiar. you're soulmates, so, logically speaking, your soul should have been incomplete, too. he tricks himself into thinking it was incomplete, just... unseeing to the normal eye, that's all. had it been a shaman from his tribe who viewed your soul back then, they would have surely found the missing part of your soul that's in the shape of him.

[evilminji]

Okay... so it COULD be because, as a writer, I'm an ASSHOLE to my Characters...

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT'D BE FUNNY?

Danny, innocent, gets YEETED into DC. As ya do. And he's a bit messed up. But! He's a Baby Ancient in the making. Gonna be master of Spaaaaaace(~~~☆!) one day. Very exciting, only slightly relevant.

See, Ectoplasm? Dumb. That's why we need Cores and Brains etc. Never let Ectoplasm decide things. It WILL chose the "technically correct but now the buildings on fire" option EVERY SINGLE TIME. And you are running out of fire extinguishers.

Because it is dumb.

Very, VERY No Brain, Just Goo, Dumb.

And THIS Goo has a life to save. A Halfa too maintain in Peak Performance(tm). Because THIS Goo is VERY smart Goo(according only to itself) and TOTALLY knows what it's doing! Damaged meat bits? Oh that's EASY! You just FIX that! Replace with meat bits! See? It's BRILLIANT Goo. 10 out of 10 stars, me!

Small problem.

The instructions have been damaged.

PANIC.

Wait! No! We got this! We are Very Smart Goo(tm). And have Space Powers. This is FINE. We'll... we'll just FIX the instructions! Hand me a hammer! If we smash enough bits together, it'll sort? Of look right? Close ENOUGH? Yeeeeeah. We're GENIUS Goo~

Use THAT!

But where did they GET their ill begotten DNA? Well OBVIOUSLY the place all the OTHER DNA they had was stored, DUH? Keep up, says the Goo with literally no braincells making horrifying choices for an unconscious man. It's Earth.

As in... the planet.

It's not even HIS planet. It's AN Earth. A Planet CALLED "Earth" that dwells in the DC universe, not his, and is covered with ZERO(0) Fentons but plenty of superhumans and aliens. THAT planet.

The Goo grabbed the Very BESTEST Meat Instructions it could FIND! The Goo is also a collective and did not AGREE on what the "Best" WAS. But it's... okay, no, I can't lie to you, it is NOT fine.

But thankfully it IS stable.

Because Ectoplasm may be dumb and indiscriminate as super-bacteria with a flamethrower, but it is a MASTER at the jigsaw of Life. It can reanimate ANYTHING.

Including the now SINGLE MOST CHIMERAD MAN you've ever SEEN. Who is he related too? YES. His left knee is Kryptonian, the fingers on his right hand are Tameranian, his skin tone has shifted to the most ambiguously multi-ethnic tone imaginable (think that future of humanity mock up, where they combine every ethnicity on the premise that inter-racial marriage will becoming increasingly common up to the point where we all just kinda look averaged out thanks to the ease of travel) because it's trying to do all of them at once and none of them are willing to back down, because all of them got the instructions "Be Skin". He might have Slade Wilson's cheek bones and hair.

Danny wakes up and basicly is half Ectoplasmic Goo, half the extended Super Community.

AND CANT GET BACK HOME TO FIX IT.

Because of course this IS fixable. It's just medical shape-shifting. But without HIS template, undamaged. His body is REFUSING to change from what is OBVIOUSLY the CORRECT form. And he keeps getting clocked as "probably related to me".

With the Fenton Luck kicking in? The parts of him people manage to swab and/or get DNA from? Keep MATCHING them. Danny doesn't know WHO is behind this but-! *spots a giggle child with a cat* !!!!!!

You.

Klarion you little SHIT!

So now he's wearing a face that's BARELY his, running from very determined superhumans who want to parent him, trying to steal enough technology to build a portal. AND vowing to kick the witch boy's ASS.

This ISNT FUNNY, KLARION.

His body is Frankenstein's FEVER DREAM! Every time he gets hurt, it tries to "FIX" itself! He lost a chunk of his should back there and HIS ENTIRE BODY CHANGED SKIN TONES. He's pretty sure if he SITS funny, his teeth might fall out and regrow POINTY! He's handing you over to WALKER you horrible little gremlin child!

Just? Take the "Danny is related to X" and "Danny is sick" and turn them uuuuup. Make EVERYBODY concerned except Danny. This is just another fucked up adventure in a long string of fucked up adventures. Give him his DNA back. If he has to suffer the Fenton Luck then he should AT LEAST get to keep the Fenton "built like a tank"!

*gets hit again*

*is GREEN now for some reason* The fuck?

Garfield, aka Beast Boy: I HAVE A CLONE SON!?

Danny: Zone DAMN IT not another one!

@ailithnight @hdgnj @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[mediumgayitalian]

The best part of being his own camp counsellor is that he can wake up whenever the fuck he likes.

Nico’s a fan.

Because, however, his dumb ass made friends with the camp’s head medic, he doesn’t get to sleep in as often as he would like. He is instead often woken up before the clock strikes nine, which is a tragedy and one of the forty thousand reasons he is going to be present on Will’s judgement day. (The scales tip any which way on a regular basis, but as of last week, Will is going to hell. Unfortunate. Nico’ll still visit him, though. Bring him one half of a twizzler or something.) So when he wakes up, one lovely morning, mouth tasting like something rotted in it and sun well past halfway across the sky, he is capital-C Concerned.

What a horrible tragedy that is. Finally, for the first time in months, he was able to sleep in. And his first thought is not gratitude. Solace may indeed have to die — Nico was not this way before he started planting his annoying ass front and centre in Nico’s life. He’s quite fairly certain he used to be frightening and badass. Now Will orders him to drink milk for the sake of his calcium and he does. Gods.

“Morning,” he hedges, approaching the archery range, feeling marginally more alive than twenty minutes prior.

Kayla raises an amused eyebrow. “Dude, it’s, like, two.”

“Well fuck you, then.”

She smirks. “Aw, did baby not get his Sunshine fix of the day? Is that why he’s so grumpy?”

It really sucks that Will is so fond of his siblings. Nico wonders if Will would still like him if he knew how many times he daydreams of transporting Kayla onto the moon per day.

“As soon as I figure out which god would appreciate you as a sacrifice, you’re gone.”

“Yeah, right,” she snorts, turning away and lining up an arrow. She lets it fly, watching as it shaves a splinter off a hunk of wood fifty feet away. “You couldn’t get close enough to kick my ass before I’d skewer you, di Angelo.”

Remembering the warning arrow Kayla had shot through his shoulder last week, he wisely chooses not to press the matter any further. The power visibly goes to her head. Fuck.

“Just — tell me where Will is.”

“Why?” She strings another arrow. The grin on her face is a level of shit-eating that Nico has only before seen on a Stoll. She should spend less time around Julia, or else the camp is in for some serious trouble. “What are your intentions with my dear brother?”

Nico, on principle, refuses to answer that question. Kayla shrugs, finishing her shot and then turning around to stick her tongue out at him.

“No answer, no location! Find him yourself, loverboy. And remember that I am always watching.”

Stomping away, and ignoring the smile twitching at his lips — she is so annoying, truly, gods above he owes Bianca a thousand apologies for ever opening his mouth — he heads towards the infirmary. There are only six locations Will is at any given time, after all, except when he disappears for several hours randomly but Nico doesn’t know how to bring that up yet. As he approaches the infirmary, though, he hears it absolutely blasting with music, like genuinely shaking the ground a little bit, and knows exactly where to find him.

As he approaches the door, wincing at the door, he finds it closed. Odd — Will likes a breeze when he works. Even odder is the hastily-written sign pasted onto it:

ANNUAL CLEAN OUT DAY. IF YOU NEED ME, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU NEED A BANDAID, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU’RE BLEEDING OUT, CALL AN AMBULANCE AND PRAY. I AM BUSY.

(‘Busy’ is underlined three times.)

In smaller print, under the all-caps monstrosity, is:

Unless you’re Nico, in which case disregard the previous sentiment. No, Cecil, this does NOT mean you.

The note is written again in Ancient Greek, Latin, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Mandarin, Italian, Polish, Korean, Morse Code, and another ten languages Nico can’t even name. Actually, wait — the top left is Klingon. And middle right note does not appear to be language, showing instead a poorly drawn stick figure in armour being shoved into a cannon and shot into the sun by another poorly drawn stick figure in a lab coat. Nico loves a man who’s multi-talented, indeed.

Hesitantly, Nico cracks open the door. He is immediately assaulted by a solid wall of sound, and then nearly bowled over by the enigma himself, William ‘I Can Restructure A Human Brain But Cannot Tie My Shoelaces’ Solace. He catches himself at the last second, and then barely manages to catch Will, grabbing him around the waist just before his head hits the floor.

“Nico!” he shouts over the music, smiling brightly. “Hi! You’re here!”

“I’m here.” He can physically feel his voice cracking, but luckily the music drowns it out. Hopefully. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

“Cleaning!” Will straightens up, although he stays within the circle of Nico’s arms. Nico tries real hard to keep his gaze firmly planted on his face and not on the hands he still has in his hips. “I do it once a year, kick everybody out and deep clean the place. Helps keep it fresh and minimize the bloodstains on the floor.”

“Ah. And the music…”

“It’s fun!” Will shouts. He gasps when the CD player skips and a new song comes on, heavy base and funky synths blasting so hard the window panes shake. “Oh my gods! I love this one!” He turns his bright grin at Nico full force, absolutely no holdbacks on the dimples or freckles, gods help him, and bows cheekily. “Can I have this dance, good sir?”

“It’s Britney Spears’ Outrageous,” Nico protests weakly.

“Yeah!”

…Very, very weakly.

“…Okay.”

Will whoops, grabbing his hands and spinning him around. Nico yelps, nearly tripping over a cot, but when he looks back up Will has his eyes closed and is shimmying not unlike a worm on a fish hook, and it’s so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. Will pries one eye open, grinning widely, and shimmies harder.

“You’re such a dweeb!”

“Join me in the dweebiness! Free yourself!”

Nico rolls his eyes fondly, squeezing Will’s hand, and lets himself get ridiculous. He’ll deny it if anyone asks, but it’s fun.

…And not just because Will is next to him, smile brighter than any star, dancing like a massive dork, hand clasped in his.

[yesimwriting]

omg irl (personally) i would get so fed up with armand like... nothing's ever straightforward with you... there he goesss with his ulterior motives.

I love how you describe Louis' worry in the latest chapter, because as anon requested, it is the crashout of all crashouts BUT its so sublty written and kept between the lines (big kudos to you) because Louis is not burning and killing 20% of the vampiric population like he did in paris BUT there are hints/implication present that he absolutely would do something much worse to protect and/or avenge bestie reader.

And it really shows during the part after the phonecall when he's thinking to himself. Him repeating Josh's name like a mantra??? Girl his last victim was in the year 2000 but im sure he's willing make sure josh will never use both of his wrists to operate a car ever again lmao. Also, being an english speaking foreigner, i'm usually able to keep my accent at bay but i know damn well that Nola accent was HEARD through that damn phone. This reminds me of that older brother vibe ask of yours you wrote before. We all know he booked a flight arriving after sunset so he can personally drive and pick her up from the airport. Also stand as close as possible by the arrivals so she doesn't need to carry her luggage with a broken wrist.

His worry over the medication that makes her drowsy??? Omg Louis loves her so much its sickening what the hell. I need to see Daniel catching bestie in 4k, casually snoozing peacefully with Louis bc she feels so safe and i need daniel to snap a picture to blackmail louis with it later. (the 70 year old senior is louis younger brother confirmed by jacob anderson himself lmao)

The one hundred thousand over set price for her painting reference???? So Louis doesn't even know, I wonder where armand is keeping the painting. I also wonder what his intentions are with reader. Like... what are his feelings, is his interest romantic, platonic, sexual or something completely different.

Now bestie reader is so gen z and i know for a fact the people in this generation will see bullshit from miles away. (we've been trained by social media) I love the idea of armand being the manipulative gremlin that he is and reader just seeing straight through it. She's a baddie we know damn well she will CLOCK HIM the second he tries to shift the playing field. And I know he'll like it too. Just look at him and Daniel. (rip non book readers, devils minion will give you whiplash)

SIDE NOTE: i love the moment in the show when armand is retelling his story of the trial in paris and Daniel questioning how tf a five hundred year old ancient did not have the ability to stop his own coven. Daniel's smug face and the deadpan "Or what?". Daniel GO GET HIS ASS.

Daniel and reader would get along so well.

side note nr 2: i apologize for the bomb i just dropped in your inbox.

omg what a fun ask <33

i love armand, but in real life i'd be so over the theatrics of it all 😭 like yes you're playing chess and we're all playing checkers we get it!! no one will think you're less mysterious if you just answer the question omg

thank you for mentioning the louis thing! i'm glad you liked how i set it up bc i wanted his worry/frustration to be apparent but i still wanted it to feel in character. ik he's not opposed to greater crash outs (like the paris thing for my girl claudia ✊) but i also think that even when he's upset he understands time and place to an extent. like claudia's very intentional killers deserve worse than a guy who has done something relatively minor to reader on accident. however, it's still important that he very much would do the same if not worse for bestie reader if something actually bad happened to her, so i'm glad you read it that way!!

the josh thing pls 😭 i almost didn't have bestie reader give the guy a name bc she knew how he'd react. also i think that while louis isn't chill with murder, knowing that it'd be so easy to hurt someone who he thinks deserves it isn't an easily dismissible thought. i don't think he's jumping to hurt/kill everyone that's wronged bestie reader, but i do think it's an intrusive thought. the wrist thing 😭 i can see louis reacting like that if he was right there, but i feel like louis would only plan out violence if someone seriously/intentionally hurt reader.

this is going to sound off topic, but bare with me for a second. i haven't delved into this yet, but friendships can be just as complicated as romantic relationships, and while i'm committed to louis and bestie reader always being completely non-toxic, that doesn't mean their dynamic is simple. a major thing that complicates their relationship is the way that they worry over the way the other perceives them.

bestie is worried that louis perceives her as fragile and therefore fleeting and unworthy of long term attention. she's scared of being seen as a hindrance and as a burden. louis is worried that one day everything will click for bestie reader and she'll realize that he's a monster. so he's doing all he can to not demonstrate violence in front of her.

anyways, all this to say that he's not going around attacking people partially bc of his values but also bc he doesn't want her to associate violence with him.

also, total side note but this dynamic is actually what leads to reader and armand bonding. louis loves her so much and the thought of losing her is so distressing that sometimes he censors himself a little too much or treats reader like she's extremely fragile. armand doesn't. yes, this is because it's easier to risk losing someone that isn't the your emotional support human, but also bc he genuinely thinks she's capable of handling it. he'll tell her every (non-incriminating) vampire story ever in full, gory detail and reader is fascinated.

the accent comment is killing me 😭 ik that nola accent was HEAVY over the phone. reader felt those words in her soul.

and yes he’s AT that airport and he’s happy about it too lol.

also yes louis loves her sm 😭. ofc he was worried about her all alone on drowsy medication. that's the light of his life! what's he supposed to do if something happens to her? go back to only talking to his companion and occasionally a journalist accidentally moonlighting as a divorce lawyer??

also omg daniel and reader interactions are a need!! daniel being described as louis's younger brother is so important to me here omg. i love daniel and louis's relationship sm, and i just know daniel is ready for someone else with common sense to be sitting in. daniel looks at bestie reader like that one meme that's like 'you're the only bitch in the house i ever respected'.

the picture concept is so cute 😭 might have to write that into a scene bc i can see daniel seeing louis and reader asleep and at first being like ? and then taking the picture to bring it up later.

YES THE PAINTING REFERENCE i'm so glad you noticed!! i was so excited for it lol. i mentioned this in another post briefly, but i think armand's lowkey disgusted with himself for purchasing the painting bc it's a physical representation of the fact that he finds reader interesting. even before louis, before he knew her, he found something about her interesting, and bc he thinks reader has dismissed him, he wants to pretend that he's never thought about her at all.

i don't want to spoil where the painting is (it's not a major spoiler lol) but armand still has it and it is somewhere secret.

omg armand's intentions with bestie reader 😭!! i'm going to give you a short answer and then a long answer bc his feelings for her evolve slowly.

short answer: he has a really intense hate-crush on her. she's so beloved and perfect and basically the sun personified. he wants to consume her soul, he wants her to not exist, he wants her live forever, he wants her, he wants her to be just as obsessed with him so that he can calm down. she's an affliction. she's a blessing. he's going through it.

long answer: at first, he resents her bc she's taking up all of louis's attention and love. then, he starts to wonder what is so perfect and wonderful about her that has louis absolutely enraptured by her existence. then, he tries to win her over for his pride, and then..well...it spirals.

there's also the underlying benefits of getting reader to care more about him than louis bc then louis can't leave him without losing reader (most delusional and unrealistic part of his thought process tbh).

as far as end goals, he's a little lost bc all of this was an accident <3. it gets to a point where louis and reader are so intertwined, armand thinks he deserves to be with both of them. he's entitled to a matching set.

bestie reader's gen-z-ness being the reason she can see through everything armand says 😭. omg. in my head, she likes louis and armand together so when she realizes something is up she's like oh no. bc she obviously has to tell louis but she's not happy about it. lowkey on a subconscious level she doesn't want to not have armand in her life so she's like :(.

still calls him out tho bc she's loyal and also bc his lies are so egregious it's hard not to. i can picture her being lowkey sneaky when armand mentions saving louis, like feigning confusion and asking something like "just so i'm clear, isn't lestat also technically a powerful vampire? and wasn't he also in the building?" just to start something but also as a way of sending louis subliminal messages to lock in and open his eyes.

also i can see daniel realizing bestie reader knows something is up and looking at louis and being like "come on...i know, armand knows, even the girl that was really happy to be talking two minutes ago and now can't stop staring at the floor knows..." 😭

omg and armand liking being called out. this is for sure when his obsession with reader peaks. also, this hasn't come up yet, but i picture bestie reader as being very perceptive and when she argues with armand over small things she accidentally clocks him with next level reads that she'll never know how accurate they are. i'm talking reads so accurate, louis is immediately stepping in between them bc he thinks it's so over for her just for armand to let it go. (might need to write a drabble featuring this)

armand's love language to reader is not killing or torturing her for calling him out. it gets to a point where louis is like ? girl i've seen you kill people for implying what she just directly said?? if louis ever notices that something is going on with armand in relation to bestie reader it's bc of a suspicious lack of attempts to physically hurt her fr.

(also total side note, but bc you mentioned devil's minion, i just needed to say i love devil's minion era sm.)

omg in response to your side note, i LOVED that moment so much. "or what?" had me gagged. on the GROUND fr.

daniel and reader would get along so well. two divas coming together to maximize their joint slay. they're sitting around the penthouse giggling over the vampire drama like they're the immortal ones 😭.

also,, never apologize for sending me a long ask!! i'm currently very hyperfixated on iwtv and this was so fun for me! if anything, i'm sorry for how long this response was 😭💗

[lwyikas]

Art and Passion ft Kuroo Tetsurou

" There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people"

“Can you not look while i write?You’re distracting me”

“Rejected” he grinned while watching you take notes in your notebook. You don’t even remember if you offered him to come museum with you, but here. At least some of his perspective on works of art helps.He bends down to look at what you wrote and grimaces.

“I have endless respect for you being an art enthusiast but if people who keep history wrote like you, a third of history would not reach future generations.”He didn’t even try to suppress his giggle while commenting on your article with a serious and wise, rather convulsive manner.He adores nerve in your eyes and frowning, oh you probably want to put the notebook on his head.

“It has been proven that smart people write awful”okay maybe he’s right,But you won’t entertain him more by accepting this.

“By whom?”

“Your mo-“your little aggressive sentence was not complete with he pulling you under his arms and imprisoning you in his chest.

“I’d rather you express your love for me in a more docile way, and for God’s sake, why didn’t you complete this earlier?will we stay here until midnight?

“I didn’t bring you here by force, you can go if you’re bored”You whined while saving yourself from his arms and fixing your hair.

“No it’s late,maybe thieves will come to steal Mona Lisa after I leave? I have to be here to save my sweetie”

“You are quite a gentleman, but original Mona Lisa is in Paris”but the important one is thought, admirable.You’re gazing at him,He shakes his foot Non-stop, sighs every five minutes. You’re bored too, we need to add some color.

“We will have diputation with you about Van Gough, i need your attractive ideas follow me” your raise tone get his attention.He offers you an arm. “Care to join me ma'am?”

Your eyes are gleaming as you giving him cheering smile. “It would be my pleasure.”As you two were walking, crowd around museum was dwindling, it was impossible not to notice young girls glances at him around. You tightened grip on his arm and you couldn’t help but stealing glances from him.He’s so tall and handsome ass hell. Even if his black hair has a weird style ,it didn’t make this man less attractive, even a little bit. We won’t even talk about his hazel eyes. Be sure that it won’t be difficult to find adore in those eyes that always on you and soften with you every moment.He notices your gaze and a slight pinkness appears on his cheeks. But of course he will never give you this opportunity.

“I think this is the painting you’re talking about” He's so bad, but he does it so well. When you’re looking for something in your bag, he takes out his phone and checks the clock. 9:45. After training, he was still tired and really he wants just his bed and rest. And he was bored like shit. But he enjoys spend time with you, he wouldn’t wait 2 hours to examine ancient vases or old paintings for anyone else except you in world when he is that tired. He gets rid of his thoughts with small “yay”sound coming from you.You probably found what you were looking for.

“Couldn’t you look at these paintings on google?”

“Nooo,look there are more detailed articles about its history below, and if I did it at home, i would probably be bored, it’s fun to romance things” He smiled sincerity and scratch his arms over his head.”As you wish goody goody”

“Alright,this is ‘cafe terrace at night’, Vincent van Gogh’s painting with oil on canvas in 1888. Van Gogh used theme of the starry sky for the first time in this. Although the work, in which the night view of cafe is reflected, is generally dominated by dark colors, no shade of black color was used in the drawing.Instead, with preferred warm colors and depth of perspective, this painting is unusual for Van Gogh’s works.”You explained with excitement.

“Yes, when i look, i can definitely feel emotions.” It’s nice painting, but mixed colors, metaphors and so on, he can’t say he gets messages right.

“Really?”

“No”

“What do you see when you look at it?”

He turns back to painting and examines it.“Tables, peoples, buildings, and stars.I guess i liked starts more.The colors catch my eye, but I can’t say much in terms of emotion, it’s a peaceful picture.”he stated.

“Such wise words,you must be a work interpreter”

“I’m trying my best!”

“But you got a point, intense and contrasting shades of bright yellows and dark blue not only convey a sense of harmony, but also reflect the emotional state of the artist. The azure sky, illuminated by stars, acts as a contrast to the warm yellows of the cafe. The side-by-side collar of colors creates a dynamic tension between light and dark, reflecting the emotional complexity that often characterizes.”

“You’re very attractive when you speak wisely”

“Tetsu”

“Fine fine, there are no colors that are completely in harmony with each other, even if it took my eye at first, after what you said, it seems more compatible to me in this way. If contrasting colors were used elsewhere, it would probably be “help”, but this painting is in harmony, it is not boring and overwhelming.”He crossed his arms and nodded jokingly while explaining.

“So you’re saying when things are concordant and monotonous with each other overwhelm you?”

“Maybe,calmness and peace are good, but above all, the passion of contrasts gets me in one move.”You stopped for a second and keep going take notes of what he said.

“I would rather die of passion than boredom”

This is no longer about the painting. You can get from his gazes and tone . You both stand in silence but he can hear a lot in silence.You two look at art but there are completely different thoughts in both minds. His rough hand rubs slowly to yours.But you both won’t make a move for more.He tries not to show it, but his ears are pink.

“We can go now”

“Ha?”

“I did complete writing”You put your notebook to bag and he helped you wear your jacket.You always say that you could wear yourself , but he always tell shut up.It’s a small thing he enjoys in his own way, so you don’t find it necessary to oppose too much.

When you two out cold air hits your face. It’s already dark. God, how many hours have you been there? But the hours didn’t seem too long to you. You don’t think you’ll get a low grade from your work, but it doesn’t matter if you take it, you don’t change these memories with him for anything.

“Its awful that you finished too early, we hadn’t yet come to the part where I read love poems to you”You wouldn’t exchange his antics for anything.

“You have to rest then you can pour your love for me into serenades”

“Definitely i will”he grins and pulls you closer.Kisses your temple.You’re glad he didn’t see blushing on your cheeks or you thought he didn’t.You two walking towards bus stop.

Hand in hand.