#cooper is not pictured but he is all of the above

[eupheme]

— common ground [into the fire, part iii]

part i | part ii | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, sex for favors, 1 spank, sub/dom elements, light degradation, use of chems, shotgunning chems, riding, PiV, canon-typical violence and death

a/n: the scene where he complained about doing all the work had me like 👀 (reimagining), so here we go! 💖

“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”

His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”

“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out. Gettin’ you clothes.” A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”

“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”

(Or - you take the Ghoul for a ride)

"Fuck!”

You crouch outside as another loud shotgun blast fires - the wooden door next to you peppering with bullets.

This wasn't what you had in mind.

You had thought you'd find a chem station in the next town. A pharmacy, an old hospital. Something somewhat respectable - not standing watch as the Ghoul blew his way through a long-abandoned two-story home.

The layered yelling dies off with each pull of his trigger, until everything going silent.

He finds you there a moment later, still curled in on yourself. A roll of his eyes when he sees you - still unused to the violence.

"It's clear." The Ghoul beckons, "Let's find that station."

You follow him inside, your gaze boring a hole into his back. Trying hard not to look down, nose wrinkling when you almost trip over a set of legs that sprawl across the floor.

A hand pinches at your elbow, keeping you upright.

"What?" He asks, at your expression.

"Did you have to..." You start, as he checks down the hallway.

It's empty - the doors leading to two bedrooms. The bed frames bare and rusted, the rooms already picked through.

A shrug, "They shot first."

"You goaded them."

You could hear him, even from outside. That knowing tone - some kind of warning. A rough laugh, and then the firefight had started.

"We're looking for a chem station, sweetheart." He scoffs, head cocking as he backs you up against the door he just closed, "Think they're gonna share with you like you’re on a goddamn play date?"

"They-" You blink up at him, "They might have."

He clicks his tongue, giving you a long look,"You still got a lot to learn, Vaultie."

A second, before he steps away.

"These weren't those kind of people."

You find it in the basement. A man slumped just outside the cracked-open door, the weathered lab coat stained and splattered red on the left-hand side.

Anything salvageable from above must have been brought down here. Three threadbare mattresses behind a makeshift wall. A long couch that faces a television that still runs, the picture blurry with static.

The station sits along the back wall. A beaker still bubbles over the burner, the smell acrid. Bottles litter the surface - something being made in a batch.

Your mind is already racing ahead, eyes scanning for things you'll need. Too-large gloves shoved on, disposing of the burnt mixture while you search for an empty glass.

Missing how he angles the couch to watch, feet propped up on the wooden coffee table. That ever-steady wariness waning with your focus, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sinks into the cushion.

You're too busy to notice. Sorting the different ingredients, littered across the counter.

There's an excess of toxic soot flowers, their petals papery between your fingers. Opened packages of Med-X, a spilled pile of Buffout. A jar of acid.  

Psycho. Cut with something else, something stronger. You think the Ghoul was right - maybe you had been foolish to underestimate them.

You try to shake the thought away, as you gather what you need. Antiseptic, from your own bag. Three jars of glowing fungus, found beneath the sagging counter. Ground up and tipped into a dusty beaker, the heat turned down low.

"Can you get me some water?" You call from over your shoulder, a jar held in your hand.

There's no answer. Silence, until something hard presses into your back, pinning you against the table.

It feels familiar, the way his hips nudge against yours, and it sends your mind back. An urge to arch - bend low. Mimicking the days before, where you can still feel the twinge of him with the stretch of your thighs.

"You think you're callin' the shots now, sweetheart?" His voice is low, the brim of his hat brushing your head as he leans over your shoulder.

"No," You squeak - caught off-guard, "I just-, I can't leave this until it thickens."

"Mm.” His hum is low. “Too bad. Would've liked to see you try.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks at his words, that rough drawl, even after the last couple days. A thin layer of suggestion in his tone, as he shifts closer - his chest bumping into your back.

Your mind flickering through possibilities, before his voice cuts through.

“Said you need water?”

"Yes. Please," The nod you give is small - you have to start your stirring over, losing your rhythm, "I saw a few cartons in the kitchen. If you don't mind."

"Polite little thing, when you're distracted," He husks, "I'll have to remember that."

The Ghoul makes no effort to move, though. Fingers wrapping around the glass. His other hand gripping the edge of the table, boxing you in. You wonder if he can hear the way your heart thuds in your chest, eyes fixed firmly on your work.

“Where’d you learn to do this?”

It takes you a second to answer - he’d had never offered many questions. Responses that were no more than a couple of words, over the stretch of long hours on the road.

“Uh, my Vault. We were short on hands, my mother was a chemist.” Your words are slow - a still-painful topic, “Used to make all kinds of stuff. Medicine and… and chems, alike.”

People who left were always brought back. Dazed and half-sick from the world above, whatever they had seen. Left at your doorstep to be patched up, if they made it that long.

You always told yourself that wouldn’t be you.

That when you were gone, you’d stay that way.

“Hm.” His tone flattens, “Wouldn’t have guessed. Don’t seem the type.”

“Yeah?” You head turns, catching his shadowed ones. Leaning into the welcome diversion, “What type do I seem like, then?”

The Ghoul’s eyes narrow, an unconscious flick down to your mouth.

“Trouble.” He husks, with a shallow roll of his hips. You can’t help the short inhale that he’s certain to hear, the way your fingers tighten around your instruments.

“Though I’m still workin’ out what kind.”

It’s there that he leaves you. Flustered and silently revisiting evenings before, a familiar anticipation curling low inside you.

The steps creak behind you as he slips upstairs. Returning some time later with what you need - twirling a dented pot found in the kitchen, so you can purify it. Folding himself onto the couch when you tell him it will be a while.

A cut glass decanter salvaged as well, that he drinks directly from. A rough gasp as the bitter alcohol floods through him. Helping himself to the chems that litter the tabletop - before his feet kick up, the hat tipped low over his face.

You think he does rest - a rarity.

You examine him then - as you wait for the water to boil, and then cool, before you can use it to mix with the other components.

Taking the rare chance to do it freely.

In the Wasteland you’ve learned to stay cautious. That you can’t fall behind. That surely he would notice, if your gaze lingered on him for too long.

But here, time seems to slow for a moment. Nothing to do but wait, as your fingers drift to your neck. Pressing into the bruise, as if you could feel the indents of his teeth.

His presence feels the same.

A mark left on you. Something you can’t help but want to touch, even if it aches. A reminder that lingers, and there’s a part of you that wishes it would stay.

It has you wondering, as your eyes sweep across him. Over the long-faded clothes, hiding rough and reddened skin - every inch of him wrapped away.

If you got close enough-

Would you find that he bore a mark of his own?

You make enough for a little over two weeks. Carefully poured and sealed into a variety of small bottles and tubes you’ve scavenged, scraping out every last bit that you can.

In the less-than-stellar conditions, it didn’t turn out so bad. The vials you had seen him buy was a thin, piss-yellow that had made you cringe. Poor work to begin with, and that was even before it was cut with more water.

What you offer out to him is thick - a sheen clinging to the glass as it sloshes, when it passes from your hand to his.

Liquid gold, in comparison.

“Mm.” The Ghoul hums - eyes greedy, as he examines, holding it up to the bit of light.

Before they’re focusing on you. Flickering from head to toe - considering - before his legs spread a bit wider. A hand clapping down against a thigh.

The look you give him is blank. A squeak when his fingers hook around one of your belt loops and pulls - hauling you onto his lap.

“You think I’m just gonna take somethin’ you cooked up?” His brow lifts, hands pinching against your hips, “Not a chance, sweetie. I think we oughta try this together.”

The Ghoul’s fingers slip up then, rucking up the hem of your shirt. His tone turning knowing.

“And I don’t think you’ve got enough in you.”

Your cheeks burn at his insinuation. More than aware, your breath catching as the rough tips of his leather gloves drag across your skin.

“Bet I’ve been leakin’ out of you since last time.” The Ghoul rasps, “Wouldn’t want to waste this, would we?”

He’s solid beneath you. Your thighs splitting on either side of his waist, knees digging into old cushions. Close enough to kiss - if you weren’t so certain he’d bite.

Lost though, on how to proceed. You don’t know the rules to his game. Always keeping you at arms-length - wrists bound, caught in his grip.

Would he let you touch him?

He mistakes your hesitance, his brow pinching.

“Spent enough time starin’. Lookin’ like you wanted to take a ride.” Acid slips into his tone, teeth bared, “Change your mind, now you’ve got a front row seat?”

That knocks you out of your thoughts - embarrassed that you were caught staring at him. Annoyed by his assumption. A scoff, as your hips start to move, a slow roll. Hands coming up to rest against his shoulders, meeting his eyes.

They’re pretty, like the rest of him. Shades of light brown - looking like they’re caught the sun, even underground. Thick lashes, above the deep hollow of sunken eye sockets, the split cavern of his missing nose.

Something that had startled you, the first time you saw him. Now, you hardly even notice. And his mouth -

“I’m not scared of you.” You murmur, watching the way his lip curls in a sneer. A soft sound bitten back as you grind down, feeling how he’s stiff beneath you.

You wonder how long he’s been this way. Hard, from watching you work. Waiting.

Another exchange, though you wish you could tell him it doesn’t have to be that way. You had meant what you said, when you had made your offer - even if you mean it a little differently, now.

Maybe you still could.

“You should be,” The Ghoul growls - hands ghosting over your sides, up to the thin cotton, “If you had any goddamn sense. Letting me touch you like this-”

A hand is cupping your breast now. A hard swipe of his thumb against your stiff peak, your fingers biting down into his jacket.

Your hips jerk against his. A soft moan, when the seam of your pants catches against your clit - leaving you clenching around nothing.

“I want you to.” You confess - catching the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, “Told you, whatever you want.”

The Ghoul makes a rough sound in his throat, watching as you tug the cups down to fit beneath your breasts, putting yourself on display for him.

“Haven’t learned, have you?” He warns, his voice low, “Don’t make an offer you can’t follow through on.”

The pinch of his fingers sends an ache down to settle between your thighs, the hint of pain pairing with your pleasure.

Your own hand wandering, wanting to see more. Sliding against a leather vest, the stained shirt beneath that was once as blue as your suit. Frayed, looping embroidery on the faded collar.

Feeling the warmth of his skin as you tug at the snap at his throat. An inch, and then another, before he’s catching your hand.

Dragging it up to his shoulders, fixing you with a look, “You best keep those right here.”

“You don’t want me to touch you?” You ask, eyes flicking down to the peek of skin at his throat.

“I want these off.” He tells you instead, snapping the waistband of your pants against skin.

You have to leave him to do it. Watching the way his arms stretch across the back of the sofa, as you kick the pants off, then your underwear beneath.

Bare again, as you settle. Fitting yourself against the curve of his cock. Leather and metal kissing your skin as you move against him, until his lips are parted with a ragged breath.

You can feel your muscles clench. The slick slide of your pussy against his bulge, barely nudging at that deep-seated ache to be filled.

“Makin’ a mess, sweetheart.” He husks, his hips lifting to meet yours. Gloved hands moving to curl around your waist - pulling you down to meet him, coaxing a lazy rhythm from you.

“Rubbin’ up against me like a bitch in heat. Should make you clean that up.”

It coaxes a whine from you, as you let him move you. The sound does something to you - the layered approval in his tone, the low rasp of his voice. Not so unaffected as he seems, with how hard he is beneath you.

He must see it in your expression, a hand leaving the couch to grasp at your chin. Flexing up and into you, letting you feel the hard ridge of him.

“This what you want, sweetheart?”

Making you meet his gaze, as you answer. All dark eyes and the flash of teeth, under the brim of his hat.

“Yes.” You keen, “I need you, please-”

“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”

His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”

The hand leaves your chin to drop down. Slowly loosening a belt buckle, letting it pool on the cushions. Your cheeks heating when you see the slick shine to the front of his pants, where you’ve rutted yourself against him.

“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out,” His eyes are on yours - your breath short as he tugs the zipper down. “Gettin’ you clothes.”

A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”

You moan at that, a soft sound caught behind your teeth - fingers pinching into his shoulders.

Waiting for him to draw his cock out - fist wrapped around the base. Flushed and thick in his palm, inches away from where you need him.

The Ghoul does grin then, a wicked thing that shows his teeth.

“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”

He’s giving you an inch - seeing if you’ll try to take a mile. A firm handle, still wrapped around a fist, but loosening the reins.

Letting himself watch.

“Seems fair.” You manage, breathless.

“Then go on,” He husks, “Show me how you can take it.”

Your hand reaches down, but then he’s clicking his tongue - fingers fixing back on his shoulders.

Leaving you to lift your hips. His cock slipping against your slick core, your teeth biting into your lip as you line yourself up - the rough head catching at your entrance.

It’s different this time. Sinking down on him, feeling each inch as it splits you open - instead of suddenly filling you to the hilt.

“Fuck,” You sigh, with the stretch. It twinges deep inside you, where his hips fit against yours.

Lifting yourself only to sink back down, his arms flexing beneath his coat as he lets you ride him, your pace slowly picking up until you’re bouncing on his cock.

As much as you enjoyed last time, there was something about this. Fully able to watch the way his lips part, hear the rattling groan when you tighten around him.

See the way his eyes skate across the bruise on your neck, only to drop down to watch the sway of your tits as your fingers lace behind his neck.

“Goddamn, sweetheart.” His hand flattens against the small of your back. The other gripping your hip, tugging you towards him, “You sure know how to ride.”

Not giving you time to answer, before his head is dipping. The brim of his hat knocking back when it hits your chin - the tips of your fingers just catching it. Slipping it on your own head for safekeeping before he can protest.

It earns you a sharp nip against the curve of your breast, before his lips close around the tight peak of a nipple and sucks.

You cry out, chasing the pressure that builds in your belly. Growing even more wet with the slick swirl of his tongue and the scrape of teeth - his cock grinding against a spongy spot inside you as you arch into his mouth.

“Please,” You whine, fingers flexing and then curling. Needing more friction against your clit, where your heartbeat has dropped and settled.

Trying so hard to listen, a whine between your gritted teeth. Your tits glossy with spit when he leans back, giving you a knowing look.

“You wanna come?” He husks - his eyes dropping, as you nod, “Only if you lean back and show me, sweetheart.”

Relief sings in you, as you adjust. Thighs spreading, as you grip onto his shoulder. Leaning back until he can watch the way he spears into you. How he shines, all slicked up, with each roll of your hips.

Your other hand loses its grip in his coat to slip down, press where your bodies meet.

Fingertips circle, a low moan at the much-needed touch. Your rhythm grows sloppy until his hands hook beneath your thighs. Guiding you into a harsh rhythm, each pound of his cock winding you higher and higher as the couch creaks beneath you.

“Come on, cowpoke.” He rasps, his hand cracking down against your ass, “Is that the best you can do?”

It builds - your fingers pressing harder against the slick bud. Whimpered noises that are more sound than words, as his thighs spread, feet planting so he can drive up into you.

“I said come on.” He growls, “Wanna feel you come on my cock again.”

Like before, it feels like the control slips through your fingers. Your own touch brings you close to that edge, but it’s the pounding of his cock that makes you fall.

Your back arching, crying out as your core clenches. Pleasure bursting deep inside you, racing up your spine and down to the tips of your fingers and pointed toes.

The quick thrust slowa into a lazy grind. A low “atta girl” that he grits out, as he feels the way you come hard around him.

Eyes dropping from your face to watch the greedy press of your fingers as you draw it out - until his own hand is wrapping around your wrist.

Tugging your hand away as the pleasure still courses inside you, hips still chasing the last ripples as you ride his cock.

Bringing your fingers to his mouth. Fitting them against teeth and tongue as his lips close around, tasting the slick that clings to them.

It makes goosebumps raise on your skin. The briefest thrill of fear. Certain that if you pulled your fingers free right now, the flesh and muscle would peel from you - leaving only bones behind.

He groans loudly around them, teeth indenting your skin. Tongue swirling against your knuckles, his hips rocking up to meet yours.

Freeing you, only to grasp at your hips - urging you to move faster. A loud slap of skin until his jaw is clenching - and he’s bringing you down once more against him with a rough sound.

Coming inside you again, but this time you get to see the way his head tips back with his snarl. How his fingers bite into your skin as you feel him throb - throat bared as he spills deep inside you with each rough jerk of his hips.

A flare of something flicking to life in your belly, knowing you did this to him. The groan he made when he tasted you echoing in your mind, giving you something to keep.

You make to move when he goes still, but a hand grips at your hip - holding you in place. Keeping you full of him, as the afterglow still glitters in your veins.

His eyes are dark, fixed on you. Taking in your shadowed, half-lidded gaze - sweat-dewed and bare skinned against him. His hat, still perched on your head. Looking like it belongs there.

A hand digs around in his bag. Pulling out the inhaler for his serum. Snapping it together without his gaze leaving you.

Bringing it to his mouth after - sucking in a deep, held breath. Those eyes closing with a low, contented groan.

A broad hand slips from your hip to splay across the back of your neck, fingers digging into your throat. Pulling you down to him - just as his head tilts to press his lips against yours.

Just as you soften, he exhales - the RadAway flooding through your parted lips. A stinging, metallic taste of iodine that makes you shudder, before you realize he’s deepening the kiss.

You lean into it without thought. The ache in your gums fading with the brush of his tongue. His grip anchoring you in place as he takes, licking into your mouth while his cock still fills you.

Leaving you breathless. Letting him, as your own arms wrap around his shoulders to keep him close. Meeting the messy scrape of teeth and swirl of tongue. The sharp taste fading, layered with the whisky and a hint of you that still lingers.

Before he’s pulling back far too soon, eyes dark as he pants.

“Fuck.” He rasps - his tongue tasting where yours had been, flicking across a lower lip. Before he’s looking at the inhaler - shaking it for another use.

“Looks like I might just have to keep you around.”

You make what you can with the rest of the supplies afterward - waste not, want not. An extra stimpak. Swiping the rest of the mentats, keeping the grape and berry ones for yourself. Refilling your canteen with more of the purified water.

The rest of the chems you gather - packing them in a tin. Tossing them his way, a low whistle when he sees what’s inside.

It’s late enough that the Ghoul decides it’s best to stay here, and leave at dawn. Certain that he will catch up to the bounty tomorrow, already sure of two places where he might be offloading the stolen wares.

You don’t mind. The uneasy thought of sleeping in a house with corpses quickly overshadowed by the real mattresses waiting in the basement. Stained but there’s still bedding - patched up blankets.

A fire, that he coaxes to life in the fireplace upstairs. Dinner, roasting over it.

It almost feels like something. A moment you can play pretend - that these walls will keep you safe.

That maybe you could clean it up.

That maybe he didn’t despise you, and maybe he’d want to stay.

It’s a foolish thought, a sigh as you push it from you. Digging a spoon into the rusted can of Pork ‘N Beans you had scavenged - not trusting the look of the skewer he had been tending.

A thumb running across your lower lip, as you chew. Remember how his had felt. Examining the angry marks pressed into your knuckles. 

His shadow crosses over you, then - you have to crane your neck up to see him. His hat back where it belongs, much like your own clothes.

The tilt of his head, as he considers you again. Before his hand is slipping into the bag that slings across his shoulder.

Gloved fingers curling around something - tossing it silently into your lap, before he’s disappearing upstairs to finish his sweep of the house.

It’s golden, in the light of the fireplace. Seems like he’s already done a little looting of his own. A rolled up bag, the tube and needle tucked inside.

And a bottle of the RadAway you made for him.

save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that 🤠💖 (thank you so much for reading! would love to know what you thought if you enjoyed!)

[hedgehog-moss]

Ant lovers, this is not the post for you, I'm sorry.

I have a big anthill in the worst location, between my house and the greenhouse, so that the ants are invading me on two different fronts! Over the past two months or so I've tried a lot of methods to make the ants feel unwelcome, from the humane Earth Mother approach to more aggressive ones, but nothing worked. Flooding them with water. Then boiling water. Dish soap. Vinegar. Diatomaceous earth, which usually solves just about every problem. The ants did not care. I tried asking, then suggesting, then bargaining, then insisting, then threatening, then

Sorry, ants. You should have taken my threats seriously.

I meant to wait until everything was fully consumed before extinguishing the fire, but then I realised I was out of dog food (when you buy one of these 20kg bags of kibble you always feel like it'll never run out and then it does in the most unexpected and untimely manner, every time). I had time to pop by the store before it closed, and by this point the fire was just a few embers left at the bottom of the tragic moon crater that used to be a magnificent ant palace. You can see my chickens keeping an eye on it from above:

I fully trust my chickens but still, before I left I went to tell the carpenter working in my barn today that I've been burning an anthill, the fire is almost out but could he glance out the window every now and then while I'm in town, and maybe go and throw a bucket of water if he sees my house engulfed in flames? I'm just going on a quick, half-hour errand.

He agreed, so I left.

I ran into the librarian at the grocery shop, who of course invited me over for a cup of tea. It's genuinely impossible to say no to such offers—I mean, you say no and then you end up at the librarian's house having tea anyway. You'd think the possibility of my house and llamas going up in flames if I don't go home to monitor the embers would be a foolproof excuse to get out of a tea invitation, but there are no excuses. The librarian wanted me to taste the giant cookie she baked and she wanted to talk about something stupid our president said or did recently and I had no choice but to follow her.

But it's okay, the carpenter and the hens are on top of the situation!

Still, I felt antsy (sorry) as I sat in the librarian's kitchen and watched her feed Pandolf cookie crumbs. (She had some crumbs set aside for her own dog, but her dog is tiny and scared of Pandolf so she remained at the other end of the kitchen, intensely interested in the unattainable cookie crumbs, mentally willing Pandolf to disappear from her kitchen, vibrating with despair, the picture of anguish.)

I tried to use Pandolf as a pretext to cut my visit short, but I had zero cooperation from my traitor dog. "We've been gone a while, he probably needs to pee!"

The librarian asked me about the carpentry stuff going on in my barn right now and I didn't want to start a whole new conversation which would inevitably lead to half a dozen anecdotes about construction work, when I'd already had such trouble wrapping up the let's-trash-talk-Macron conversation (it's not that I don't want to trash talk Macron. But my house was burning, maybe.)

I tried to point out again that my house was probably ashes by now and the librarian said serenely, "Well, your carpenter will feel obligated to hurry up and finish the job much faster if you have no house anymore and must move into the barn."

I agreed that there's an upside to everything, but still. I had to go.

Just as I was leaving the librarian's house, I saw the carpenter's car entering town. I waved at him and he stopped and opened the window and told me everything was going well, and I said, "And the fire? It must be out by now."

"What fire?"

He had absolutely not checked the fire. (He was standing next to a noisy machine when I made my request so it's possible he didn't hear me well and figured I was checking on his work and just went "Yeah, all good!") (I'm trying to be fair)

And yes, okay, it was just a few embers at the bottom of a pit with heavy, wet winter earth all around, but I'm a pessimist so I threw Pandolf into my car and drove home at full speed. For some reason what I pictured during this quick, worried drive home was ant payback. A long line of determined ants stretching from their ravaged anthill to my house, each one of them carrying a tiny burning twig. I don't think two chickens would be enough to suppress that.

When I reached my dirt road, I couldn't see my house from afar but could see a plume of smoke in the middle of the woods. It looked pretty small, but still, I was relieved when I got closer and found that the smoke rose from the exact location of the anthill and nowhere else.

I'd taken precautions, like wetting the earth around the pit and choosing a day when some rain was expected in the evening, but a lot of forces conspired to ensure the embers were left unattended, from a forgetful (or confused) carpenter to Pandolf's love of cookie crumbs and the librarian's inescapable friendliness. (She whatsapped me to ask if my house was on fire and I said (jokingly) no, but no thanks to you!! And she was a bit contrite and said, it's Macron :( we spent too long on this topic... And I said no I know, of course I blame Macron and she sent me a handshake emoji)

The ants were not in an avenging mood btw, they were teeming around the crater looking quite defeated, it made me sad. (But I hope they're defeated.) I didn't throw my bucket of water over it straight away because I was a bit fascinated by the inside of the anthill, from up close it looked like the Mines of Moria.

I crouched down next to the ants and we wordlessly watched the last embers slowly die as night fell over the pasture. It was very atmospheric until Pirlouit started braying with absolute fury because it was almost dark and his evening hay was still nowhere to be seen.

[ssahotchnerr]

I saw your request for aaron hotchner valentine’s day! maybe an aaron hotchner x bau wife reader and they are all away on a case and they’re still there on valentine’s day and it’s been a rough case and y/n has been extremely stressed but Aaron makes sure she still feels special and treats her to a nice dinner and surprises her with flowers

too married

happy vday pt 2!!! cw; fem!reader, your usual cm case descriptions, mentions of food/alcohol, fluff <333

"it's disheartening, isn't it?"

aaron hummed from in front of you, fiddling with the key to grant the two of you access into your hotel room. "hm?"

"that we're here. on valentine's day." you could laugh if pushed, your voice sharp and inches away from wavering.

no matter how little the inflect, and even if you hadn't shown it at all, aaron still noticed it. he paused and turned back to you, a forlorn expression on his face. "sweetheart-"

"it's fine." you brought your hands to your face, frustratedly and tiredly rubbing your eyes for a moment. "sorry, i'm just looking for something to complain about. it's been a long day."

"a hard day." aaron added in your regard, reaching out to touch your arm soothingly.

your current unsub clearly hadn't felt the universal love within the air; he's been most brutal the bau had endured in a while. full of mutilation, a sickening signature, devolving by the minute.

truthfully it had gotten to you; you were finding it extremely difficult to compartmentalize, and spending most of the day staring at the graphic crime scene photos didn't help. at one point you couldn't bring yourself to look at the pictures, lowering your head down to the table and wanting nothing but to cry into aaron's shoulder.

but he was nowhere to be found, you've barely seen him. he had spent a good portion of the day conducting interviews, off following leads that only resulted in dead ends.

you did see him at lunch, but ignored his occasional, concerned glances. if you were to make eye contact with him, and despite how tempting that was, you would have lost it. in addition, the fact it was valentine's day, made it kind of worse.

sure, it was partly a hallmark, commercial holiday, but you couldn't help but yearn to be out to dinner with aaron - eating ridiculously priced food in a restaurant you could barely see him in, giggly and warm from the wine, serial killers being the least of your concerns.

and rather than going to bed to continue the night, you were going to bed to get a few hours of shut-eye if you were lucky - given the late hour and horrors of the day to keep your mind awake. before it was right back to where you had left off.

"besides, we're also too married to do anything too special, right?" you forced a laugh, the sound sounding foreign in the empty hallway. aaron internally winced, the strain and exhaustion in your voice tugging sadly at his heart.

you continued, "and if we were home, it'd be a quiet night-in wouldn't it? maybe we'd get take-out, watch a movie, go to sleep early."

a lie, but anything to make yourself feel better.

but, that's where aaron, without fail, always stepped in.

"well," he started, but didn't finish his thought - finally managing to get the room key to cooperate and pushing the door open, entering with you at his footsteps.

his back constructed your view, but once he sidestepped towards the bathroom to your right, he revealed a bouquet of red roses, chocolate covered strawberries, accompanied by a card waiting on the desk.

"i know it's not much." aaron explained as you froze, his hand finding the small of your back. "and it's not everything either, i do have more planned for once we're home but-"

maybe it was the near delirious exhaustion, the day you had, him, or all the above, but you only had one means of responding.

you grasped onto the lapels of his suit jacket, bringing him to you and kissing him so forcefully he nearly tripped up against the wall. aaron laughed gently in your mouth, but the kiss was long and deep, the two of you melting into each other.

not enough? it was everything, and the kiss alone silently proved that.

"thank you." you whispered once the two of you separated. your palms were resting on his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft under your fingers.

aaron smiled, the kind that caused the ends of his eyes to crinkle happily. "i love you. and although today wasn't how it should've been, and i would've loved to have spoiled you endlessly, and jack would've definitely been staying at jessica's for the night." his lips turned upwards into a light smirk, a wicked glint in his eyes before turning to their softness. "just like any day, i'm reminded how lucky i am you're my wife. whenever i'm with you, wherever we are, i'm home."

you blinked at him, in utter bafflement and awe. "how do you always know just what i need to hear?"

"because you're my beautiful wife, and like you said, we're too married." he teased, but his playful demeanor sobered, his voice lowering to a whisper. "i'm sorry you had a bad day."

"it's okay. it's better now," you answered just as softly as you looked into his eyes, stroking your thumb along his cheek before turning back to your surprise, "and when did you manage to do all this?"

"i can't reveal all my secrets, can i?" aaron quipped with a smile, pulling you in for another kiss. you reciprocated, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"happy valentine's day darling. and to many, many more."

[ghoulphile]

Coop would draw out that feeling of shame for being attracted to him so hard too, making you hold eye contact when he was on top of you OR BETTER YET; you not realizing the room you're in has a broken mirror until his tilts your head up to lock eyes with your own. "You just keep lookin there, darling. And I'll do the rest." Him stopping his hips if your eyes close for even second. "I believe we had a deal. Now you watch yourself get fucked, I want you to know who's making you sing like that."

Him pulling out and finishing on your thighs and not letting you cum bc you couldn't help but close your eyes and hes gotta punish you somehow 👀👀👀

okayyyy but jfc that's 🥵 you are SO right & you should say it

Like, him purposefully thrusting in hard and fast to make your lashes flutter, grinding close and hitting all those tender sweet spots that make your eyes roll into the back of your head because he wants you to fail.

wants to see how far he can push you and how long you can hold out while also knowing its impossible when he rocks juuuust right, drags the fat head of his cock along your g-spot until your hips buck and your thighs tremble.

holds you down and makes you take it while mocking you, gripping your jaw to keep your attention focused on the mirror above you, maybe shoves his fingers inside your mouth just to see you gag and drool.

"so fuckin' messy," he'd grunt. "see, now don' you look prettier than a picture? hanging off my cock, dumb 'n droolin'."

you'd beg and plead for him to stop, to slow down, to stop doing that because he knows you can't take it - it's too much! you can't be good and do what he says when he's fucking you like this; stuffing your mouth full while his cock thrusts so deep you feel him in your stomach, mean fingers pinching at your clit until you whine, pawing at his shoulders.

and every time you look away he does more than pause, he pulls out - slaps the heavy weight of his erection against your abused pussy until you throb, all swollen and needy. drags the head up and down your slit until you're crying, blurry eyes struggling to stay open and on your mirrored image.

when he fucks back in after teasing, it's nice and slow, making sure you feel every inch he feeds you until he's sheathed to the hilt, your walls rippling around his shaft, clamping down so hard he swears.

then the hard, fast pace starts again, your body jerking with every harsh thrust. over and over again (man has stamina) until you're cock drunk, mouth slack and mind hazy after hours of edging. and when you finally cum with a wet gush and shaking hands, he tsks and ruins your orgasm by pulling out before you're finished.

you'll whine, struggling to get your limbs to cooperate as you try to cling to him. he'll bat you away and wait til you refocus on him - the hard glint of his eyes and the cruel smirk tugging at his mouth. swallowing hard when he takes his cock in hand, glistening with your slick.

he'd jerk himself off while you watch before cumming with a grunt, shooting his spend all over your skin. then the real punishment begins... one ruined orgasm for every time you looked away, every time you shut your eyes. by the end of it you'd be a soaked, overstimulated mess - body wrung to its limits and nerves shot, knees weak and head full of cotton.

just.... i have a lot of thots 😭

[doumadono]

🌹🌹🌹 COOOOOONGRATULAAATIONNSSSS 🌹🌹🌹

Can I get a cone with vanilla flavour, topped with M&Ms and maple syrup? I want to ask for snow leopard Shoto 🐆

A/N: thank you so much for your ongoing support! I really enjoyed writing these headcanons for you, and I hope you'll like them as much as I do :3

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST MY HERO ACADEMIA

Snow leopard!Shoto, who usually maintains a dignified demeanor, turns into a playful goofball when he's alone with you.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who often finds himself fascinated by his own fluffy tail, can be seen chasing it in playful circles. Whenever he catches it, he looks at you with a triumphant glint in his eyes, as if he's just accomplished the greatest feat.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who senses whenever you're feeling down or stressed, and curls up beside you, purring softly, his warm fur offering comfort and solace.

Snow leopard!Shoto has a penchant for being a bit goofy at times. He'll pounce on fallen leaves or playfully bat at floating feathers, his playful antics never failing to bring a smile to your face, and you can't help but laugh at his playful clumsiness.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who absolutely adores playing with balls, especially when you roll them across the floor for him. His mismatched eyes light up with excitement as he chases after them, his graceful leaps and bounds a joy to behold.

Snow leopard!Shoto and one of his favourite pastimes which is taking leisurely naps in the sunlit spots of your home. You often find him basking in the warm glow, napping with his head placed on the tip of his fluffy tail. You snap photos of him snoozing and send them to your friend with a captions like, "isn't he just adorable?!"

Snow leopard!Shoto, who is particularly fond of belly rubs, melts into a puddle of contentment when you stroke his soft fur, his purrs rumbling in satisfaction.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who also has a particular fondness for chin scratches. He tilts his head upwards, his eyes closing in bliss as you scratch under his chin, his purring intensifying with each loving touch.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who is deeply protective of you, often stands guard by your side, his watchful eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger.

Snow leopard!Shoto is deeply attuned to your emotions, sensing when you need a comforting presence or a gentle nudge of encouragement.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who loves his nose being booped by you!

Snow leopard!Shoto, who values your companionship above all else, often nudges your hand with his head, silently asking for your attention and some head pats.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who is fond of exploring new places, and enjoys going on adventurous walks with you.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who absolutely loves rolling in the soft, lush grass. The sensation of the cool blades against his spotted fur brings him pure joy, his contented purrs filling the air as he revels in the simple pleasure.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who absolutely despises baths, will do anything to avoid them. At the mere mention of bath time, he'll slink away, his tail bushing in defiance as he seeks refuge in the farthest corner of the room.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who detests having his teeth cleaned, becomes a picture of stubbornness when it comes to dental hygiene. He'll clamp his jaws shut firmly, refusing to cooperate as you attempt to wield the toothbrush with patience. "Come on, Shoto, open your muzzle, I don't have the entire day!"

Snow leopard!Shoto, who prefers to maintain his grooming routine on his own terms, will often retreat to a secluded spot to lick his fur clean with meticulous care, glaring intently at you, making sure you're not trying to give him a bath.

Snow leopard!Shoto, who is quite picky about his food. He can and will be the drama king when it comes to his meals. You might present him with the fanciest of gourmet feeds, only for him to theatrically gag at the mere scent. For him, nothing quite compares to the delight of raw salmon or a juicy steak.

[everykindofnerd13]

Trolls Human AU but it’s college student snack pack raising Tiny diamond as all of their kid when Guy Diamond finds himself with a child at the rope young age of 19.

The crew having a schedule of who watches Tiny at any given time on any given day. (It is extensive and color coded and Branch had a great time making it.)

Everyone explanding tiny diamonds repertoire of skills before he can even comprehend his own existence. Like.

Suki who holds a one year old Tiny on her lap while she works on mixes.

Cooper and D who switch off holding Tiny in one of those chest carrier things while they play DDR.

Poppy who will give Tiny a bag of scrap paper and tell him to make a picture inside it. (She doesn’t want to let him actually touch the paper, lest he ingest it.)

Branch who puts on science kids shows like Wild Kratts and Sid the Science Kid on the background while he and Poppy have Tiny so that he kid can start learning fun science stuff early.

Sati and Chenille who started by dressing up Tiny in their studio, but ended up just letting him use his creative guidance on them. (They hold him above a pile of fabric and whichever two he picks they have to make work as a garment.)

Biggie who has “tea parties” with Tiny and Dinkles (his cat) and is always trying to teach the baby proper table manners, it’s futile, for Tiny is a menace.

Smidge who teaches the baby to “work out”. (She actually owns a bunch of grip training baby toys that she hands him while she lifts weights.)

Barb who insists she doesn’t like babies but will happily take Tiny in for a night when needed, making little purée dinners for him and spoiling him rotten for the evening.

Legsly, who encourages Tiny to dance with her in her living room, gripping his hands and holding him up so they can “dance”.

Fuzzbert who is canonically mute and uses sign language to communicate in this universe, who loves to bring Tiny out to the park to experience nature with him, always mesmerized by the baby’s wonder at the clouds and the leaves. (Listen, I just like to imagine that Fuzzbert as someone who often finds themself unable to make themselves heard, quite enjoys the satisfaction of such a small child finding joy in the same things he does.)

Tiny who is very monkey-see monkey-do, and actually is a very well rounded kid after being raised by so many well rounded people who care about a love him.

When they’re together as a group, usually at game nights, they’ll make Tiny little “mocktails” aka, like, mango juice, so that he doesn’t feel left out while they all drink their drinks of choice.

Tiny is the most spoiled kid on earth because he has so many aunts and uncles willing to pitch in and get him whatever he wants.

Brozone and Viva also loving Tiny when they meet him one day while Branch and Poppy are in charge of him. Poppy has a little stroller with a sunshade, and Branch is happily carrying the baby bag so the stroller isn’t too heavy to push. At first, everyone’s mortified cause they thing that their baby siblings have gone off and had a whole baby without telling them, but they quickly notice the “Tiny Diamond” printed across the baby bag and realize it’s in fact their siblings’ close friend’s baby that they’ve heard so much about.

Viva making the kid candy necklaces only to be quickly shut down by Clay who explains that they’re a choking hazard, and they should not be given to a baby.

Bruce who has kids of his own and will invite Guy Diamond to drop Tiny off at his place when he and the rest of the snack pack want a night out.

JD who is terrified of children after how much he feels like he screwed up with Branch, but is still infatuated by the little boy and basically gives him anything he wants.

Floyd who mostly stays out of the way while the baby’s around but is the first to volunteer to put him down for a nap so that he can sing him a lullaby and rock him to sleep.

Branch and Poppy being very blush when old women tell them they have a “beautiful family” when they’re out and about, because while they do consider Tiny and all of their friends family, they know the older women mean something different.

Listen this AU is living rent free in my head. I have a timeline. I have a whole thing. I have backstories and modern world adaptations of trauma. It’s pretty fun.

[whiskeyghoul]

All tied up || [Spencer Reid X f!reader] Pt.1

First time posting a fic here.

The idea of Spencer remembering all the shibari knots from a book gave me the incredible urge to start writing. This is part one and mostly setting up to part two where all the spicy stuff will happen.

Tags: Shibari, eventual smut, consent, (idk I am bad at tagging)

Part two

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

"I actually heard it can be very therapeutic." Spencer Reid stood next to you as you were bent over a case file. The unsub would tie their victims up in intricate red rope, displaying them like a piece of artwork. Suspended in mid air their bodies hung from ceilings. You had made a comment under your breath as you watched the detail in the knots, nothing of interest. Either they'd been strung up post mortem, which seemed unlikely with the way their bodies were contorted. Or while the victim was alive and cooperating. Meaning the victims trusted the unsub.

You knew of shibari, had seen it once when you had stumbled upon it while researching a sexclub where a suspected unsub was picking his victims. It piqued your interest, seeing the knots tied carefully with enough slack to allow fingers to slip past the rope. The shapes accentuating the women's bodies, looks of content on their faces. You had quickly squashed the thought at the time. Not wanting to address your new found interest in the slightest. Hoping that if you didn't think about it it would go away. Unfortunately that hadn't been the case. You'd managed to find pictures of the beautiful rope designs people created and it only fed the flame growing inside you. But when Spencer made that comment as he looked over your shoulder. Something stirred inside. Like he knew what you'd been thinking about.

"I don't think they found this very therapeutic." You retorted, eyes focused on the paper again. If they hadn't been crime scene photos they could have been beautiful. Spencer placed one hand on the desk, the other on the back of your chair as he leaned over. The heat of his body radiating off of him. You kept your eyes on the papers, not daring to look up at your workplace crush. Who, in all his genius, was the most clueless person you'd met. "Right, I don't think they did. Still, it's interesting to see the great care the unsub took to present them this way. It’s like a piece of art, he takes pride in his work." Spencer commented, saying the words you'd just been thinking. "It could have been beautiful if not for the murder." you said a bit solemnly, not thinking about your words, still trying to figure out whether the unsub tied them up post mortem or not. Absentmindedly tracing your fingers over the ropes in one picture.

"Would you ever want to try it?" Spencer suddenly asked. Your head whipped around in surprise, staring at the man who was looking down at you. He was gauging your reaction, which now that you realize it, was way too obvious. He'd probably already caught on to the fact you'd been interested in shibari from the case before. A damn good profiler even if he was clueless about your feelings for him. "W-what? No, of course not." You lied, feeling heat creep up your neck as you averted your eyes from him. “Why would you say that?” You asked in turn, knowing he’d already caught you in your lie. “Just the way you said it could have been beautiful. I’ve read a book on it once…” The way Spencer said it was suggestive, knowing what he meant once he said he read a book on it once. He remembers it all, the knots, the ties. He was offering to help you get it out of your system. The way he trailed off made it non committal, it wasn’t a full offer but it was up in the air. If you wanted to go in on it he wouldn’t judge. “You have? Are you interested?” Your voice was low, barely above a whisper because you were still in the bullpen. Colleagues and teammates are still around to hear if you spoke too loudly. “We have Saturday off.” Spencer spoke, it wasn’t an answer but an invite. “We do.” You agreed, and that was it. “You could come over.” Spencer said, there was something in his voice. It was low and smooth. “I can. At 2?” You added before daring to look up at him again, he nodded his head with a slight smile. There was a flush on his face. “I’ll see you then.” He added, pushing himself off the table and returning to his own desk, your eyes following until he sat down.

Your mind was jumbled with thoughts about what could happen when you get to his place. Mentally you were still trying to grapple with the fact that he had invited you, but standing on the doorstep had been quite the wake up. You rang his doorbell and Spencer buzzed you in. You walked to the elevator, pressing the button and stepping inside to head to the second floor. Stepping out and walking past the other doors until you reached his front door. A deep breath. You raised your hand, a timid knock on the door that was opened just a second too quickly. Like he had been waiting for you. “Hey.” Spencer breathed out the word, a slight smile on his lips as he stared at you. You could feel your cheeks start to heat under his gaze. “Come in.” Spencer said as he stepped out of the way, letting you pass into his apartment. “Thanks.” You said as you observed your surroundings. You’d been in his apartment once before. It was lived in, slightly cluttered and warm. It smelled of books and coffee, some of his vices. His large leather couch was put to the side and the middle of his living room was currently a large open space. He’d prepared this. You swallowed thickly, knowing he’d taken care to get it all ready made you excited, a fluttering feeling settling in your stomach. The small bag you had taken with you was placed down next to the coat rack. Your jacket was slipped off your shoulders by Spencer, the motion making you look over your shoulder at him. He gave you a reassuring smile, warming your heart and soothing your nerves. “Do you want something to drink first?” He asked as he hung your coat away. “No, thank you.” You replied, wanting to get to it rather than stall. It would make you nervous again to wait. Wanting to get started almost immediately. “Alright, then let’s get started?” Spencer asked it, maybe to have clear confirmation that this was what you wanted. He fidgeted slightly, perhaps as nervous as you had been before. You nodded your head, the action seeming to calm Spencer slightly, his hands stopping from fidgeting. Instead grabbing the red rope that was laid out on a side table, pushed to the wall this time.

“How do we start?” You asked, having prepared by wearing a pair of soft shorts and a tank top. Spencer turned back to you, taking two strides before he was right in front of you again. Something in his eyes had changed from before. “Strip.” His tone was different, making a shiver run down your spine.

This was going to be interesting.

[ugotnojamzzz]

Rulers of Ruin Pt.I

Chapter 1

Alright so I’ve been toying with this complex mafia!au fic idea for a very long while and I guess it’s time to give it a whirl. I already have about ten chapters written out (I’m expecting it to be at least 20 chapters), but I want to test out the waters first. I’ll start posting more if some of you are interested in knowing what the hell is going on.

Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, eventual smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader

Synopsis: um, tf is going on??? Stay tuned for more chapters to come, because you are clearly about to be confused.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language. Also, don’t come for me over the theme, people. It’s an Alternate Universe, which means the bangtan boys are essentially what I like to call meat puppets to serve the storyline. This is obviously not a projection of their actual real-life personas.

Wordcount: 1.9k

Her pulse echoed in her ears, a rhythmic drumming that seemed to sync with the slow return of her consciousness. A sharp pain throbbed at her temple, and a dull ache spread across her cheek when a voice sliced through the lingering fog in her mind.

“Rise and shine,” it sang.

Bound and blindfolded, she sensed the cold, hard back of a wooden chair against her spine. Panic clawed at her chest, and she made an instinctive, futile attempt to move her arms, only to find them securely tied. The room’s air was charged, heavy with an unspoken menace that made the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

As the blindfold was abruptly removed, a harsh light assaulted her eyes, forcing her to squint and struggle to orient herself in the unknown space.

Her gaze landed on a pair of unfamiliar eyes, their owner concealed in the shadows. "You're not gonna cause any more trouble, are you?" the stranger asked, his words heavy with an unspoken threat.

Her throat felt like sandpaper. “W-where am I?” The words scraped out of her, barely above a whisper.

Rather than answering, the stranger stepped closer, his features gradually unmasking from the shadows. He was young, platinum blonde hair framing a face that presented the kind of sharp angles that both captivated and cut. His eyes were fixed on her with a depth that tightened her stomach.

He leaned in, his hand lifting to trace a cold line down her jaw, prompting a reflexive flinch from the girl. “You're in a place where questions get answered if you cooperate,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming momentarily. "You’ve caused quite a stir around here. »

The girl’s mind raced, trying to piece together what could have led her to this place. "Please," she whispered, her voice quivering, "I don't know what you're talking about. You must have me confused with someone else."

The corner of the man’s mouth quirked up in a knowing half-smile, amusement flickering in his eyes. He tightened his grip, fingers pressing uncomfortably into her jaw. "You may not remember my face," he said, the familiarity of his tone unsettling, "but I certainly haven't forgotten yours, little bird."

The nickname seemed to send a jolt of nervousness through the poor girl.

She continued to plead, her eyes welling up with tears, the very picture of fragility. “I-I don’t know who you are, there’s been a mistak-” she insisted, though her voice faltered.

The man’s expression hardened. "You should save your tears, » he said curtly, using his thumb to wipe the single bead rolling down her cheek, « I’m not the one you’ll need to convince.”

As her gaze dropped, she caught sight of a tattoo peeking out from under the man’s collar—an unmistakable symbol. The realization hit her like a wave.

She was not merely in danger - she was deep in enemy territory.

 She’d been taken by the Kim clan.

A sudden banging on the door cut through the tense atmosphere, causing both to turn their heads sharply toward the sound. The door swung open, and four men entered the room. The air thickened with the palpable sense of impending action, and the girl braced herself silently.

“Guess it’s time to meet the boss,” the man said, looking back at her, “Go ahead, guys.”

Without a word, two of the men grabbed her firmly by the arms, hoisting her to her feet with practiced ease. They escorted her out of the room, their grips unyielding as they navigated her up a narrow, creaking staircase.

Every step heightened the girl’s alertness. As they reached the top of the stairs, she found herself in the expansive hall of what could only be described as a mansion. The opulence was almost disorienting, but her eyes, quickly adjusted to the surroundings. Golden light pierced through the curtains; it must’ve been the early evening. She noted the strategic placement of security cameras in every corner, barely concealed by the luxurious decor. The presence of armed men stationed discreetly at every doorway did not escape her eye either.

She was led into an elegantly furnished living room, where her eyes instantly landed on a tall man standing by the fireplace, his back facing her. Broad-shouldered and dressed in a finely tailored suit, he casually dangled a glass filled with amber liquid in one hand.

His voice, resonant and commanding, broke the silence without him needing to turn around. "Has she calmed down yet?"

One of the men still gripping her arm replied, "She hasn’t said a thing, but—" His words were abruptly cut off as the man by the fireplace raised his hand in a dismissive gesture without so much as a glance.

Then, with a smooth motion, he finally turned around.With a tight jaw, the girl scrutinized his features as he drew nearer. His eyes, deep and penetrating held a feline intensity.

Stopping in front of her shaking figure, he reached out and cradled her face with surprising gentleness. His fingers delicately grazed her bruised cheekbone, his touch careful yet firm, as if he were appraising something precious that had been marred.

The girl remained silent, her jaw clenched tightly, refusing to show any sign of weakness. Observing her reaction, or lack thereof, he turned his attention back to his men, his voice taking on a sharp edge, "Who did that?” he asked, his eyes sweeping over the faces of his subordinates, searching for the culprit. The room held its breath. “I said no touching her face."

The tall, broad-shouldered man sighed in frustration as the room remained quiet. Without another word, he walked slowly towards the blonde man who had been part of her escort. “Go get Seokjin,” he muttered. The shorter man nodded sharply and quickly exited the room.

Within a minute, the door opened again. This time, the tall man who entered wore a white coat that brushed against his calves. He approached the captive directly, his expression focused and professional, ignoring the others as if they were merely part of the room's elaborate decor.

As he neared, the guard holding her arm tightened his grip reflexively, a habitual show of dominance. She winced slightly—a brief, almost imperceptible reaction—but it did not escape the doctor's notice. His eyes shot towards the guard, piercing and stern. The intensity of his gaze was enough. Without a word needing to be spoken, the guard hastily released his grip on her.

The doctor then turned his attention back to his patient. He examined her face gently yet thoroughly, his fingers skilled and efficient as they traced the contours of her injury.

“We’ll make sure it heals nicely,” he finally spoke, his voice calm yet carrying an undercurrent of firm command, “there shouldn’t be a hint of a scar.”

Meanwhile, the man who appeared to be the leader paced before his men, his frustration evident in each measured step. He paused, turning to face them with an expression of controlled ire. "When will you understand the meaning of orders?" He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in, his gaze piercing each of his subordinates in turn.

The men shuffled uneasily, their heads bowing slightly in a mixture of respect and fear. No one dared to meet his eyes.

The leader's hands clasped behind his back as he continued his slow, deliberate pacing. "We operate on precision and discipline," he lectured, his tone growing colder with each word. "Lapses like these—" he gestured dismissively towards the girl "—not only undermine our efforts but jeopardize our entire operation. » She shut her eyes as she took in his every word.

He stopped abruptly, standing straight "What do you think her brother is going to do when he sees that?” His voice rose slightly, as his eyes locked onto the platinum blonde, who seemed particularly uneasy, “huh, Jimin?"

The room had fallen into stunned silence when suddenly, a light giggle pierced the quiet. The leader spun around to locate the source of the sound. Everyone stood frozen in shock, realizing the unexpected laughter had come from the girl.

Realizing all eyes were now on her, the girl sighed nonchalantly. Perhaps it was time to drop the act. "He won't," she stated with a shake of her head. Her sudden firmness caught everyone off guard.

The leader paused, his expression shifting to one of intrigue. "So, she does speak," he remarked with a biting tone, his steps deliberate as he closed the distance between them. His tall figure loomed over her. "Care to repeat?" he pressed, his voice low and commanding.

Her demeanor shifted; the façade of vulnerability dropped away, replaced by an air of cool indifference. Now that she knew where she was and who she was dealing with, there seemed to be no point in maintaining her mask of ignorance.

 “I said he won’t see this,” she replied, her posture relaxed, an almost dismissive roll of her eyes accompanying her words. The room's atmosphere shifted palpably, her casual dismissal of the threat to her person surprising everyone present.

The leader gave a slight gesture of his hand, and with that, his men quietly exited the room, leaving only him, the girl, and the doctor.

"You know… you may want to look at your enemies' track record before you go on holding their family hostage," the girl continued, her tone breezy but edged with a sharpness that belied her relaxed posture. "But you do know of my brother already, so tell me-” she paused, her doe eyes locking with his, “what’s the plan, Namjoon-ah?"

The casual address was a clear breach of decorum, nothing short of a middle finger, really. It made the doctor pause in his ministrations, his hands freezing momentarily in shock at her audacity.

Namjoon’s reaction, however, was one of amusement rather than offense. His smirk deepened, a spark of respect—or perhaps appreciation—for her daring flitting across his features.

“I’m surprised you remember my face,” he remarked.

“A raven remembers both friends and foes,” she retorted.

"You’re quite bold, aren't you?" he mused aloud, his gaze appraising her anew. "For someone in your position, I mean."

The girl met his gaze, her own eyes unflinching. "I’m afraid boldness might be all I have left," she replied steadily.

"Alright,” the tension was momentarily pierced by the doctor's exasperated interjection, “are you finally going to tell me what the hell this all is about?"

Namjoon turned slightly, as smile playing on his lips, before addressing the doctor with a controlled calm. "Seokjin," he began, his voice smooth, "let me introduce you to our guest, Park Y/N."

Seokjin lifted his eyes to rest on the leader, his face etched with disbelief as he muttered a soft curse under his breath. Jesus fucking Christ.

Namjoon's eyes, however, never wavered from Y/N's, his gaze intense as he continued, “our very own Raven Gongju.”

___

*cue suspenseful music*

___

Hope you liked it. If some of you are intrigued or interested in finding out more, don't hesitate to interact and I'll start posting some more chapters!

Chapter 2

Masterlist

[sharks-n-bones]

Y'all, I'd like to apologize in advance, this is the longest one yet

Without further adue

BRANCH WON THE POLL SO IT'S BRANCH TIME BABY LET'S GO

When the flood hit, Branch was the most prepared troll in all of Pop Village. He was a survivalist, he built an entire underground Bunker with a functional elevator by himself, of course he'd know what to do

When the rivers started overflowing, Branch was suspicious from the get go. It was late summer, the snow already melted from the mountains and flooded the rivers. There hasn't been any rain recently, so there's no reason the rivers would've flooded

Branch’s hunch was soon proved correct when the river just kept flooding over, the water reaching the village in no time, causing them all to have to relocate. They went for higher ground, and when the storms came they hunkered down where they could until they ended, and they began moving again

Once they were finally somewhere safe for the time being, they began building boats. King Peppy advised that families and friends should stick together and travel together, and Branch had to agree with him. There was safety in numbers, especially in cases such as this

Branch helped Poppy, the king and the snackpack (along with Prince D, who was visiting when the water started rising) to build a boat that would fit them all, with room to spare, of course. Branch was nothing if not prepared. He'd drawn up blueprints in his spare time on the journey to higher ground, and designed the boat big enough for them all to have their own rooms and bathrooms, a kitchen, multiple storage rooms, a common room and other such amenities. And of course, he built an area above the main deck for farming

Since Satin and Chenille were pros on working with fabrics, Branch asked them to make the sails. Smidge helped with the heavy lifting, since she was by far the strongest out of the Snackpack. Cooper, Prince D, DJ Suki and Biggie helped with gathering supplies and resources. Poppy and Guy Diamond helped with decorations, but pretty much everyone helped with the actual building of the ship

In no time, their ship was built and stocked with enough provisions to last a couple weeks at least. Branch was proud of the ship and the hard work everyone put into it. They sang and danced and hugged throughout the process, but it seemed to make the building go along quicker, if anything, and it boosted everyone's moods. Once the water has risen enough to be lapping against the bottom of the boat, they worked together to push it into the sea before hopping on and setting sail

Other than now having to work harder on surviving, things stayed much the same. They spent their days singing, dancing and hugging while they tended to their little farm, fished, and gathered resources and food from any island's they came across. Most of the group also enjoyed swimming when they had the chance, and Branch would even join them sometimes, but he was a bit more.. suspicious of the water that flooded the world

He'd been working on theories and gatherings clues as to what caused this great flood. Surely, it wasn't natural. There was no way! The world wouldn't just flood without something to cause it. But what could've been powerful enough to do such a thing..? When he wasn't busy foraging, tending to the garden and making sure the ship was still in peak condition, he was usually pouring over the clue board he'd made about the flood

He'd added some.. other changes he'd noticed to the clue board as well, such as how everyone on the ship was developing rashes on their necks, and how he noticed that their skin seemed to be drying out faster while their hair was all still picture perfect, if not looking better than ever. He added how the webbing between their fingers seemed to be inching up to their knuckles, ever so slowly. He'd thought he'd be the only one to notice that, but he saw some of the others glancing at their hands with odd expressions once in a while. A lot of other trolls they came across were having the same exact effects, so it couldn't just be a freak disease that had taken over the ship. Besides, if it was, they wouldn't have as much energy as they did. Other things would be noticed

He was pouring over his clue board again when a theory suddenly came to his mind. He laughed at himself at first, because there was no way, it would be impossible-

He started taking samples of the water that now covered most of the planet, trying to see if there was anything in it that could be causing these changes. He checked the rainwater they collected, ocean water, rivers and creeks if any islands still had them, but each and every time he came up empty. There were no weird chemicals or anything of the sort he could find

There was nothing he could physically see, but the water was the only thing he could think of that would cause these changes! He even checked the fish they caught and any food they grew or foraged, but there was nothing unusual. At this point, the only thing that could be causing these changes was magic! He chuckled at the thought, and pushed it aside… not before adding it to the clue board with a bunch of question marks, though

Occasionally, techno trolls would approach their ship and ask if they needed any help. The next time one breached the surface, Branch asked if they'd noticed anything in the water since the flood hit. The techno troll's eyes widened, and he winced before sighing and climbing onto the ship

He explained everything he knew. Told them about the legends of sirens, of their history with them, how they locked them away. How the sirens broke free right around the time the water began rising

Then, he explained how they filled the ocean that covered the planet with and ancient and powerful magic. He explained that it would slowly change their bodies to become more siren-like. As he explained, he pointed out the changes they were already experiencing. Explained the rashes on their necks would develop into gills, the webbing between their fingers would reach the last knuckle for better swimming, their bodies would grow scales and that their skin was drying faster because it was becoming dependant on the sea water

Everyone had gathered to listen, and everyone looked shocked. Poppy examined her hands, Satin and Chenille ran fingers through their hair. Biggie and Smidge brought hands to the rashes on their necks, Guy and Tiny looked at their glitter-coated skin, and Cooper and Prince D glanced at each other, seemingly have an entire conversation without words

The techno troll continued, explaining that they'd be able to change into the same forms as siren's could. The troll forms — how they looked now, the half forms — what they were going to look like once the changes were complete, and the siren forms — where their legs would fuse into a tail and they'd take on more characteristics of whatever sea creature the ocean decided to attach to them

He explained that the more time they spent in the water, the faster the changes would happen, but they wouldn't be able to stop it. He said not to fear it, it would only help them out in the long run

Branch asked why they would cause the flood to begin with only to help them survive in the end. The techno troll said that their war was with the technos, not with anyone else. Dubz didn't know what they had planned for techno’s, but said not to worry about it. It was the techno’s fight, not theirs

Branch felt bad for them, and could see the others felt the same. The techno troll bid them farewell after that and left, leaving the group in silence. He could see that familiar gleam in Poppy's eyes, one that meant she wanted to help them, she just didn't know how yet. Branch couldn't help but smile at that. She always wanted to help people, and he loved that about her

For the rest of the day, things were a bit more quiet than usual. Everyone thinking about what they'd just learned. Branch sighed and went to find Poppy, wanting to make sure she was alright

The next day, they reached an island and they all unanimously decided to take a day to completely relax. They deserved a day off, especially after all they'd learned yesterday. So they tossed the idea of work to the wind and spent the day relaxing at the beach

Everyone was having fun. Building sandcastles, playing in the waves, relaxing on the sand, floating around, just generally having a good time. Branch was even relaxing, just sitting in the sand and reading a book for once. He was so lost in the pages, he almost didn't hear Tiny scream

He looked up just in time to see a fish come out of the water and latch onto Tiny Diamond, dragging him under, and Guy Diamond frantically diving after him. Branch immediately tossed his book aside and ran into the water after them. Guy hadn't come up for air yet so Branch dove after him. Guy dove pretty far down, so he was slowing down and running out of air by the time Branch got to him and began dragging him up through the water

The moment they breached the surface, Guy coughed and gasped, taking in a large breath, before immediately elbowing Branch in the face and fighting against his hold

Branch understood why he was fighting so hard. Tiny was Guy's son, he loved Tiny more than anything in the world. But, as much as it hurt admit, Tiny and that fish were long gone by now. Branch held onto Guy tightly until he eventually stopped fighting and just went limp in his hold

Branch sighed sadly and began hauling him to shore while Cooper, Prince D and Smidge dove into the water to keep looking for Tiny, just in case

Guy wouldn't stop looking at the ocean once Branch brought him to shore. He just stood there, frozen like a statue, before he eventually crumpled to his knees. Then, to Branch’s utter horror, he slowly began turning grey. From the tips of his hair, moving downwards until he was completely dull, the glitter that made up his skin now matte and lifeless

Branch’s heart ached for him. He didn't know what it was like to lose a child, thank the stars above, but he knew what it was like to lose a family member and he knew what it was like to turn grey. He heard the others gasping in shock, but Branch only frowned and wrapped an arm around Guy, giving him all the comfort he could. The others soon joined in, all wrapping Guy in one giant hug. Guy never hugged back

They had stayed at the island for a week longer than they'd planned to, just in case Tiny somehow showed up, and Guy waited on the beach every day. Tiny never showed. Eventually, they brought Guy back to the ship and to his room. The others were all concerned for Guy, but Branch tried to tell them not to go overboard or push the poor guy too much. He remembered how much the toxic positivity bothered him when he went grey, and knew it could be smothering and overwhelming

Once in a while, Branch would check in on Guy and bring him some food if he noticed he hasn't been eating. Aside from occasionally checking up on him, he gave him some space

For the next 2-3 months, a melancholy air hung around the ship. They all would still sing and dance, but it wasn't the same now that two voices were missing. Guy didn't come out of his room that much. He usually would for meals or to sometimes help Branch when he was brainstorming safety precautions (presumably to make sure nothing like what happened to Tiny ever happens again, or at least that was Branch’s theory), but most days he stayed cooped up in his room

Branch felt bad for him. He wished he could do more to help, but he didn't know Guy like the others did. He could only think to do what he wished others would do when he turned grey — show he cared, but give him enough space to breathe

A few months passed uneventfully, just going from island to island, gathering resources and taking some time to try and relax before setting sail again. It was another normal day for them, they had just docked at an island when something different finally happened

A ship came up beside their own and set anchor. A lone figure wearing a pair of reflective goggles aboard the ship used their hair to board their own boat, landing with a loud thud on the deck. They pushed their goggles up to their forehead and Branch gasped

This couldn't be happening. 20 years of absolute silence, complete separation. 20 years since he left him behind, and suddenly he shows up right when a flood takes over the planet? Branch couldn't believe his eyes. The troll then spoke, stating he was searching for someone when they suddenly locked eyes, and the newcomer aboard their ship grinned and called him a name he hadn't heard in decades

“Baby Branch!!”

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (10/?)

Word Count: 2,831 Words

Rating: Explicit (Tentacle SMUT)

Chapter 10

"Little by little, we cross the line

Little by little, the ties that bind

Little by little, by little, by little...

Little by little tonight."

- Alice Cooper

________________________________________________

Oh, the unholiest of fucks…

Lucifer swallowed hard; a deep flush flooding his face as he grappled with trying to process everything that he was seeing…everything he was feeling.

Multiple glowing-green tentacles were snaking toward him now; sliding up his calves and sliding under his jacket; one especially large one raised itself; then dipped it’s pointed end at his collar; coiling down and wrapping around his abdomen beneath his clothes; and still, more were coming…

He fought to control his breathing; shuddering at the contact the appendages were making all across his now sweating body.

It’s okay…just one of your top personal sexual fantasies you’ve kept to yourself for some time now…be cool….

The first tentacle was still pressing and pushing against him and he was having trouble forming thoughts before a smaller tendril crawled across one hip; diving downward along his lower back and sliding between bare cheeks.

“Whoa! Hey!” Lucifer jumped; waving at the tendrils. They retreated but only slightly. “A little forward don’t you think?” He gasped, feeling entirely flustered as he looked up at Alastor.

“I thought you might appreciate some forwardness.” Alastor smirked back at him. He hung, naked and suspended by the tentacles that erupted from his shoulders – their lengths twisting and winding themselves above him and into the rafters. One long tendril coiled itself from chest to leg, its center wrapped modestly over and across his manhood.

“Well, I certainly feel overdressed. No one bothered to tell me that our evening involved nothing but birthday suits.”

“Oh, you came dressed just perfectly, your highness.” Alastor told him, his voice dipping low.

The tentacles surrounding Lucifer started moving again; snaking into his layers of clothing and lifting and pressing themselves through and under fabric to find bare skin.

“Your attire will fit my plans just nicely. I would very much like to ruin that suit.”

Lucifer audibly gulped and Alastor laughed.

 “You’re getting yourself quite hot and bothered over all of this…” Alastor noted; the tentacles keeping him suspended slid lower and other appendages moved and pulled so that he was brought closer to Lucifer; one tendril snaking forward, curling and pressing to the King’s chin – lifting his head.

“You’ve been blushing since you arrived. It’s quite lovely.” Alastor’s looked down at him; satisfied. “I hope that you don’t get too bewildered by my…antics. I do still need you to be just a  little bit cocky.” He chuckled as the tendril released Lucifer’s chin, sliding away. Alastor’s tentacles pulled him back up and away from the angel.

Smaller tendrils were snaking through Lucifer’s clothing; one coming from his chest, wound its way upward and to his neck; sliding up his jaw and under his hat and into his hair. Another coiled around his thigh; the tip of it sliding up and beneath layers so that it was flicking and tickling the underside of his lifted cock and balls.

“Ahh..” He gasped; the tentacles tightening around him.

“There are…rules to be addressed before you become too incoherent.” Alastor was telling him, the picture of absurd nonchalance.

“Rules?” Lucifer choked out; a tentacle sliding from his back, lifting from within the collar and coiling into this hair; pulling his head back sharply as he looked up at Alastor.

“You won’t touch me.” The way Alastor said this made it clear that this wasn’t an option. “Instead, I will have my own fun and you might get to watch…as for you, well…I get to - do to you - whatever I might like to, with these.” His tentacles tightened around Lucifer more still. “And, I get to absolutely destroy your royal garments…though I’ll spare the hat. 

Jesus fuck…did he hear me say something in my sleep!? This is too unreal!

“I…accept.” Lucifer croaked.

“Splendid.” Alastor hissed; eyes glowing wickedly red in the dim light of the station.

Alastor’s glowing-green tentacles swarmed him. Pulling Lucifer to the ground; they twisted and wriggled almost frantically as they buried underneath clothes and snaked and coiled in all directions across his body. One tendril quickly hooked the hat from off his head; flinging it somewhere aside. Finding his arms and his legs; tentacles wound and tightened so that Lucifer’s arms were bound tight together at his chest, his legs held loosely open and bent.

Assaulted by sensation; Lucifer bowed and bent backward. The tentacles contacting his skin were warm and tingling – sending a volley of prickling pleasure to his spine and spreading downward. Gasping; he jerked and squirmed at the overwhelming onslaught.

Alastor watched him with dark and narrowed eyes. He could feel every touch the appendages made; every poke or prod, every slither and slide, every push or pull. Feeling his way up the inside of Lucifer’s leg, he directed one tendril to snake its way up; slowly and steadily curling its limp and twisting body around Lucifer’s shaft.

He heard the King’s sharp intake of breath at the contact; and Alastor felt the heat coming from the man’s throbbing sex. The tendril curled and lengthened then using its pointed end; it burst through the seam of Lucifer’s crotch, ripping a gaping hole, releasing the devil’s monster it held in its firm grip.

Alastor leaned back, head tilted so that he may continue to watch Lucifer’s undoing.

Is this all that it would take? Alastor thought darkly; arousal clouding his mind and bringing treacherous thoughts to the surface. To set in motion the very ruination of Lucifer…to ensure the King of Hell was at his full and complete disposal and nothing in all of the realms to stop him?

Alastor scoffed at the thought. Surely not.

Others would be surprised to know, but: that type of pilgrimage didn’t hold his interest anyway.

Forgetting his dark thoughts; Alastor’s attention turned fully back to the task of sweetly tormenting his fallen angel.

The tendril wrapped around Lucifer’s shaft had started moving; and it was sending a series of vibrations down the fully engorged and erect length. Lucifer was nearly bent backward in-half; spit dribbling from behind clenched teeth as he battled with the increasing overstimulation.

Alastor felt a heat rising and burning through him; watching Lucifer – his antlers growing outwards…it was effectively stoking the flames to his own fire.

Shifting the tentacle that encircled his groin; Alastor let it drop away – his own member erect and needing.

Perhaps…this ruination…was only truly meant for me.

The tentacle encircling Alastor moved; coiling itself so that it laid snaking up one leg and curling across his waist and torso; supporting his weight. Other tendrils wound their way down from rafters; encircling his wrists and bringing his arms out and away from his body. One tendril slid to his penis – teasing the tip of it; Alastor’s gaze fixed on Lucifer.

Sweating, shaking and panting – Lucifer wasn’t sure that he could take much more of this. His system was absolutely flooded – he was having trouble deciphering the sensations; where they were coming from or where they began. Everything was too much and yet not enough; all at the exact same time.    

He heard tearing and soon the tentacles were ripping apart his clothes. His jacket; shirt and dress pants hung in tatters – the tendrils winding through the tears and holes to pull themselves tightly to him. Their movements were becoming less frantic now – more steady; the tingling and vibrations slowly dying away. The appendages sliding across his skin had become slick; both with his perspirations and something of their own.

Breathing heavily; Lucifer angled himself to look up at Alastor through glazed eyes – seeing that he was now just starting to enjoy himself.

A tendril was wrapped intricately and tightly around Alastor’s balls and shaft and it was moving – slowly jerking him off. Alastor’s eyes were closed now; his head bent back as he focused on what he was feeling; focusing on the tendril still wrapped around Lucifer’s cock. Matching the pace he had set for himself; he moved the tendril.

Oh, fuck… Lucifer felt himself sink beneath the surface; watching and feeling this all play out.

Oh, fuck, fuck, FUCK. Lucifer’s overstimulation had turned into an overwhelming pleasure. His body now ready to process everything it had experienced into something…earthshattering.

Alastor felt Lucifer’s tightening.

Heh, not quite yet, Luci.

He deliberately slowed the tendrils movements, releasing the grip it held and sliding it to play and flick at Lucifer’s balls. He got a rewardingly frustrated groan for his efforts, and it broadened the smile stretched wide across his face.

Almost there.

Alastor bit his lip; feeling his own waves of pleasure washing over him. He stretched and pulled against the tentacles supporting and holding him. There was something to be said for self-care – the feeling of fucking and being fucked – it sometimes was very rewarding.

“Please…Al….” Lucifer was pleading now. “Fuck…I’m so hard…”

Feeling his penis curving tightly now; Alastor obliged.

Alastor slid the tendril that had been torturing Lucifer back into place and he almost came from the contact. Moaning; Lucifer felt the relief of the sliding and pulling against him and he was climaxing in moments.

Alastor thrust his hips sharply; his own peak found as he felt Lucifer’s sweet release – and his tendrils slid away.

“Well, I did have more planned but I greatly miscalculated the stimulatory effects of these things.” Alastor was telling him; a tentacle snaking from his back and tossing his clothes into a bundle on the floor. Another one coiled and curled over to Lucifer; offering him his hat before slid away; disappearing completely into Alastor’s back.  

Alastor had found a pair of black sweats to slip into for himself and a soft red robe that read Hazbin Hotel in the stitching for Lucifer. Charlie had insisted the robes be made and on hand for any guests who wished to have one but Alastor had never seen any of the current residents bother with them.

They were in Alastor’s room. Following their rather erotic session within the radio tower; Alastor had moved them and their belongings by the use of his shadows.

“Yeah, no shit.” Lucifer twitched; a spasm of the residual energy transferred to him by the tendrils zapping through his body.

“My fault entirely.” Alastor continued. “I haven’t really experimented in putting them to this particular use before.”

“Oh, that’s what I want to hear. You could have ripped me in half!”

“Funny, I wasn’t hearing any complaints from you earlier.” He looked at Lucifer from the corner of his eye; head tilted – his smile ever-present across his face.

Lucifer flushed and Alastor chuckled.

“We can take a shower.” Alastor offered. “But, I’m afraid mine is not nearly as glamorous as yours.” Lucifer twitched beside him again and Alastor snorted. “It might help to reduce some of that tension you’ve got left.”

“Yeah, let’s try it.” Lucifer readily agreed.

Alastor led him to his bathroom.

Lucifer was surprised to find that it was entirely surrounded and engulfed by plants – and not just cute little houseplants but true and actual flora. There were patches of bright green grass and wildflowers bursting from the floor tile; vines wound their way from the ceiling; snaking across the walls; moss grew in mounds or hung long and stringing overhead; a small cypress even took up one corner; branches stretching over the tub and shower; filling the room with a natural and heady scent.

Very strange to have all this in a bathroom but it was all also very Alastor. This hotel room; it was like, his own personal little deer den.

Lucifer paused; slowly turning and taking in every detail as Alastor ran the shower; waiting for the water to reach an agreeable temperature.

“How did you-?”

“With an incredible amount of power and an incredible amount of skill.” He answered; holding his hand to the water and nodding, he moved to strip his sweats off.

“You are…such an ass.” Lucifer told him. He approached the shower as Alastor stepped in and stopped; appreciating a blooming and pungent bunch of honeysuckle.

“Stop molesting the flora and get in.” Alastor told him.

“I wasn’t touching any of it!” Lucifer pulled off his robe; going into the shower with him.

It wasn’t exactly cramped but the space left for them was small. Alastor was dousing himself under the hot water that poured from the shower head – working his claws through his hair and the base of his antlers; steam filling the room.

Lucifer patiently awaited his turn; pressing himself into a corner.

Alastor shook the water from his head and antlers; turning to look at him.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m…waiting? I don’t know…I mean, I know you don’t want to actually be touched right now so –“

“Oh, come here.” Alastor reached for him and pulled him under the water with him. “Just don’t get…handsy.” Alastor said; turning to reach for some shampoo. Lucifer hissed when the hot water touched his skin. “And, don’t be a baby.” Alastor added.  

Lucifer stood with his back to and against Alastor’s lower chest and stomach – feeling the hot water washing over both of them. Alastor worked through the shampoo, conditioner and body wash that he had; passing them to Lucifer to use as he went. Lucifer went to scrub at his back and seeing that he wasn’t getting all of it; Alastor indifferently lathered up the parts that he missed for him.  

When they were done; they both returned to Alastor’s room – their waists wrapped in towels and carrying their clothing.

“Charlie’s not back yet?” Lucifer asked him; poorly hiding his concern.

“No, not yet.” Alastor shook his head. “Neither are any of the others. My shadow is still keeping an eye on things.”

Lucifer was starring at a bit of peeling wallpaper.

“I’m certain she is just fine, Luci.” Alastor told him. “Lilith wouldn’t allow anything or anyone to harm her and she didn’t go alone.”

“Heh,” Lucifer laughed lightly. “That’s the first time you’ve called me that…’Luci’. I like it.”

“You did tell me that I could.” Alastor reminded him.

“Yes, yes I did.”  

“I thought you did very good tonight, by the way.” Alastor told him. “I mean, you handled things well. I wasn’t easy on you. I’ll make some adjustments and plan out things a little better the next time we try it.”

“Next time!?” Lucifer’s eyes widened.

“Only if you’d like to-“

“I would. Very much.” Lucifer told him; already very excited by the idea.

Alastor couldn’t remember what he had meant to say – ‘you were perfect’ or something similar to it but what came out was:

“You’re…perfect.” 

He tensed; hearing himself say the words, but then Lucifer looked at him and…something changed.

“What did you say?” Lucifer asked him, softly.

“I…” Alastor’s throat clenched at the look Lucifer was giving him, his heart thrumming heavily in his chest. A warm and familiar feeling…a cold and frightening memory��

Fuck. Do I really want to take this risk again? And, for what exactly…?

Ears leaning back, Alastor moved in – clawed fingers spreading across Lucifer’s jaw and cheek as he bent down – softly kissing the angel. Lucifer returned his kiss but otherwise, he did not move –restraining himself from touching Alastor.

Alastor broke the kiss – deciding something.

“You may touch me.”

It wasn’t long after that, that they were both tangled in each other within the sheets of Alastor’s bed. Lucifer was still feeling incredibly overstimulated from their previous session already and Alastor took care in slowing things down and steadying them both out where he could.

Suddenly, Alastor broke away from Lucifer; his head coming up – ears working and eyes darting as he focused on something; like he had just had an important thought.

“What is it?” Lucifer asked, shifting to sit upward.

“Husker and Niffty…they were both alarmed by something just now.” Alastor paused, ears still moving like he was listening for something that Lucifer could not hear. “I think…whatever it was; it’s resolved itself now.”

“You’re sure? You can go if you –“

“No,” Alastor shook his head. “They’re ok. They’re at that damnable bar downtown that they’ve got named ‘Consent’ these days.”  

“Oh, I hate that place. What even is the vibe supposed to be like there, anyway? Like, are they really encouraging consent or is it supposed to be some messed up joke because they’ve got all those sex rooms and-“

“Luci.” Alastor growled at him. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

He crushed his face back to Lucifer’s; clawed fingers winding into the angel’s hair and pulling them both back to where they were.

When Alastor slid himself inside Lucifer, he groaned at the tight and quaking heat. Lucifer shuddered, panting beneath him. Alastor began thrusting and their bodies melded together in a delicious friction. Lucifer’s claws raked bleeding scratches across his back and shoulders; Alastor’s tongue slipped between parted lips and slid wetly inside the King’s mouth.

When they came, they came together – fully and completely consumed by each other.

Chapter 11

[rraizel]

Void- yang jeongin

words: 2,516 pairing: yang jeongin x gn reader genre: a little angst, fluff, idol!jeongin, idol!jeongin kinda having a hard time being away from reader:(

Yang Jeongin is not an easy crier. But it's already the 26th day of touring and that meant that was also the amount of days since he had last seen you and he felt that burning sensation inside his eyeballs causing them to pool with salt water which he quickly blinks away. The bustling backstage keeps moving after they closed their show for the night but it's like he came to an abrupt halt, like he wasn't just on stage not more than 15 minutes ago, doing what he does best, making sure their fans remember this night for the rest of their life. On a stark contrast, at the moment he finds himself staring blankly at the ceiling while sat on the leather couch after taking their group pictures for the night. It's almost like he's trying to focus on the nothingness of the ceiling to keep himself from feeling the unfathomable void in his heart.

The void of your absence.

Even though you make sure to call and text him at any given moment and he did the same, that simply did not suffice. Jeongin was not a big fan of any form of physical expression of affection. But oh, was he a completely different person, just for you. He can't take his hands off of you whenever you're around. His long slender fingers would either be holding yours, splayed over your waist, your thighs, your neck or maybe some other parts where he wants to touch you the most. It's to the extent that sometimes he doesn't know what to do with himself, his hands when you're not around. It took a lot of getting used to considering his job and both of your situations. But even so, sometimes when his brain comes down from the high, from the chase and rush of being on stage he almost hallucinates your presence. All he longs for after a busy schedule of concerts and shows on a foreign land, is your warm embrace waiting for him to fall into them. He wants the familiarity of your warmth under the palms of his hands and he wants your scent all over him, smothering him.

And this, right now, was just one of those times. The neurons in his brain couldn't not gravitate towards the thought of you. He had a good day, he really did. Tomorrow is a day off and it was also his 23rd birthday. STAYs had wished him an early happy birthday on their concert today and of course his heart swelled up with joy. However this is also why he misses you so earth shatteringly at the moment. He just wants to have you close and tell you how good of a day it was and not through the confinements of the borders of his phone screen.

His members know he isn't feeling his very best, for obvious reasons. They try to include him in conversations, over the dinner but he doesn't cooperate much, smiling occasionally and mostly deadpanning his words. Although, there's also something that the members are aware of but he isn't. Which is why, they are not too worried when Jeongin finishes early and leaves for his room not spending more time with the others.

He strolls through the corridor, making his way to his hotel room, with his phone in his hand as he shoots you a text;

"just got done with dinner with the hyungs what you upto?" "oh im thinking of ordering smth. did you eat well babe?"

"yeah i did. im kinda tired. facetime before sleep?"

"sure love. but um you dont wanna stay up till 12?"

Jeongin looks at the top of his screen as he taps his room key on the censor, 10:47 p.m. He exhales deeply as he enters. "guess not, what's there to wait for anyway. today was good but tiring as well, i'll hit the bed."

He sounds so particularly unenthusiastic it breaks your heart. But unbeknownst to him,

you are on a cab, on your way from the airport to the hotel he's currently in.

You couldn't help it. This is the first time the schedule was timed this way. But you couldn't miss his birthday, you knew you had to be there. And above all you wanted to be there. So here you are, in a cab in Tokyo, arriving mere minutes before your lover's birthday because you can't bear to be apart any longer and not be close to him on the day he turns 23. You cannot wait to jump into his arms and hold onto him until you both can't breathe. And even though you can feel his sadness through his texts, you have to hold yourself back from spilling the surprise in processing. And so you type him a reply; "hm i get it, you should rest, i'll just have my dinner and we'll ft before sleep, okay?" "yep okay, eat well babe."

Jeongin tosses his phone on the bed and makes his way to the bathroom. He takes off all his makeup, brushes his teeth, flosses them and continues following his usual skincare routine. The slump of his shoulders is sign enough to know how tedious all of it feels to him. He has never been this uninterested about his own birthday before. In fact, he can't care less what day it is, all he yearns for right now is you. The sight of you, the sound of your laughter, the way his name descends from your mouth so lovingly each time you say it, the hues of your irises and the way they look like they hold a few thousand milky ways inside them.

The exhaustion didn't help his situation but he was denying himself of the feeling of it all, he knew he couldn't get too sentimental over things like this, considering his line of work and how considerate and understanding you've been with him through it all. You're in it too. And Jeongin takes it as his responsibility to push through and learn to brush it off even on days like this for the sake of the two of you.

He changes into his pajamas and carries his fatigued and emotionally burdened body to bed and pulls the covers upon himself. His phone screen lights up in his hands and his eyes skim over the 11:20 p.m. display as he decides to text you; "hey im back."

"hey hun, i just did the dishes, lemme change up and wash up, i'll call you, is that cool?"

"hm yeah, i'll wait."

"innie babe is there something wrong? you seem a little down, you can tell me about it."

Jeongin chews his bottom lip, reading that text. He doesn't want to worry you, or think it's too serious so he settles his brain on telling you it's just work and that he misses you, which is the truth, but doesn't begin to cover the depth of it.

"it's nothing really, im really tired and i wish you were here. i just miss you."

"i understand love, it's okay, yeah? just 3 more days, let's both try to be patient. i'm here for you, if you wanna let it out yk that right?"

Jeongin's emotional barrier is standing on its last leg right now. He wants to cry and tell you how much he hates this, hates being apart, how he'd give everything just to be near you right now. But he can't. He can't let you feel that helpless in a situation where it truly can't be helped. It's no one's fault and he sure as hell didn't want you to feel an ounce of unwarranted guilt. It won't be fair to either of you. And so he replies;

"yeah i know, thanks for being here, i love you."

"i love you too innie, im calling you in a bit okay? brb"

You let out a heavy sigh as you set your bags down in Chan's room. You would've booked a room for yourself but you knew Jeongin wouldn't agree on that, so you decided to sit around in Chan's for the next few minutes. "He's really not feeling it today, he's gonna be so happy that you're here." Chan smiles as he passes you a can of soda from his mini fridge. "Yeah I really hope so. It's been really hard for me too, I had to be here for his birthday, you know. Thanks a bunch for cooperating right now, I hope management didn't give any of you much trouble." you open the can and take a swig. He shakes his head and clicks his tongue, "Eh don't worry about that, they know it's for the best of him, if he isn't feeling the best, he can't focus on the performance. And plus everything is fair in love and war right? So rules schmules for this one." You can't help your laughter at that.

A knock on the door interrupts your laughter causing you to go complete silent and shoot a wide eyed look towards Chan. He walks up to the door before half yelling, "What is it?". To which you hear a muffled "Are they here yet? Are we really not having a mini celebration?" from where you're sitting. Chan hastily opens the door, alarmed by the volume of the person's voice and you're met with a fresh faced, ready for bed Jisung, "Jesus, don't yell in the corridors he'll hear you." Chan sneers at him. "Oh shit, sorry bro. Oh hey Y/N! Long time no see, how's your little surprise in the making going?" he beams. You smile and shrug, "Nothing much really, just gonna show up and hope he likes it." His eyebrows rise in response, "Like it? Trust me, that's all the kid needs today, he's gonna be in tears, I tell you. But are we sure we don't want a mini surprise with a cake and all that?" his pupils shift towards Chan and then you, ''Let's save it for tomorrow, Ji. We wouldn't wanna intrude the lovebirds' reunion." Chan teases. "Ooh yeah you're right, it's their little movie moment." Jisung adds before almost breaking out into a song but getting shushed by Chan like he foresaw it. "Guys it's time." you assert, grabbing the boys' attention. You didn't even notice where all the time went and you start panicking because Jeongin was waiting for you. 11:54 p.m. You take a deep breath and try to loosen up all the tension around your shoulders, "You got this." Jisung reassures you as you type a text and send;

"heyy sorry im late, the neighbour couldn't find her cat, so i had to help her look for it and stuff im back tho"

"its fine, i got kinda worried about whats taking you so long."

You make your way out of Chan's room, your suitcase in one hand, your phone in the other. And you text him as you make your way to his door;

"so, facetime?"

"mhm yeah." And so you do, you press the video call button and watch as it rings, while you take quiet steps towards his hotel room. It rings thrice and he picks up. His face shows up on your screen and you almost break out in sobs at the sight, considering you're seconds away from seeing him up close and not through your screen. "Hey...wait where are you? You aren't in bed? Where are you going?" he asks, confusion laced on his expression and voice as he nearly shoots up from his bed. "Oh um... I decided that I can't stay home and go to sleep tonight. I have to be somewhere so... I decided I'll do exactly that and yeah, I'm outside." you're tearing up but you try not to let it show as your cheeks hurt, trying to suppress the smile that's trying to escape. "Y/N, what do you mean? where are you? This is not making any sense, it's really late at night, you shouldn't be anywhere outside now." he's concerned now, he looks like he's about to get on the next flight to Korea to make sure you're okay, but little does he know, he doesn't have to. "Innie, relax. Let me explain." you say as you take the last step before you're standing directly infront of his door. You take a long deep breath, trying to help your heart that's way beyond helping at this point.

"Open the door, Innie."

He stops breathing for a second as his pupils look like they'll burst out of his skull. He can swear he heard that sentence from two different directions, his phone and right outside his door. He has never moved as fast as he does in the next second, almost propelling himself out of the bed, pushing the covers off as he reaches for the doorknob like he'll catch on fire if he doesn't.

The door flies open in front of your eyes revealing his bewildered features a nanosecond before they crumple like a piece of paper into an emotional coalescence. "Happy Birthday, Jeonginnie." Yang Jeongin is not an easy crier. But nothing could've prepared him for the sight of you in flesh and blood standing at his door step on a different country at exactly 12:01 a.m. on his birthday. His knees buckle as his lips quiver for the right words but they come out as bead sized spheroids of salty water from his eyes, dribbling down his face, glistening under the dimly lit corridor. You practically throw yourself at him, latching onto him, wrapping your arms around his torso as he struggles to keep standing. "I missed you so much, happy birthday baby. I love you." you weep on his shoulder. He still hasn't spoken a single coherent word to you. He doesn't need to, at the moment. You're here. And this is not a dream, that's all his brain can manage right now.

So he holds you in his two arms, squeezing you so tight yet so tender to his chest. It's like he can't fit enough of you in his arms and yet he needs to be gentle as though you're made of glass. And he just cries like a child. He lets it all out and fall out of his opaque orbs onto the crook of your neck along with your clothes causing them to drench in salty water. You place a chaste kiss on his shoulder, running your hands through his silky raven locks. He gently pulls away, letting you see his tear soaked red face as he envelopes yours in his large hands. His eyes soften before fluttering shut as his lips melt into yours, fitting like two pieces of a puzzle that were never meant to be detached, his mouth caresses yours like he's trying to memorize the taste, intricately, patiently. His lips slow down before coming at a complete halt on yours, just resting there briefly before managing to pull away, still staying mere millimetres away from yours.

"You're here." he breathes. "Your heart called." you smile.

A/N: so this is a little jeongin drabble that i've been thinking of since his birthday's coming up. it's a little longer than intended, but i just had to. i hope ya'll enjoy regardless tho:>

[blueiskewl]

Three Students Just Deciphered the First Passages of a 2,000-Year-Old Scroll Burned in Vesuvius’ Eruption

A Roman scroll, partially preserved when it was buried in the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in A.D. 79, has been virtually unwrapped and decoded using artificial intelligence.

The feat was achieved by three contestants in the Vesuvius Challenge, a competition launched in March 2023 in which people around the world raced to read the ancient Herculaneum papyri.

Papyrologists working with the Vesuvius Challenge believe the scroll contains “never-before-seen text from antiquity,” and the text in question is a piece of Epicurean philosophy on the subject of pleasure. The winning submission shows ancient Greek letters on a large patch of scroll, and the author seems to be discussing the question: are things that are scarce more pleasurable as a result?

The author, whose identity is unconfirmed, doesn’t think so: “As too in the case of food, we do not right away believe things that are scarce to be absolutely more pleasant than those which are abundant,” one passage from the scroll reads.

The three members of the winning team had previously individually made significant contributions to the competition. Luke Farritor, a computer science student at University of Nebraska-Lincoln, and Youssef Nader, a machine learning Ph.D. student at Freie University in Berlin, had been two of the first contestants to detect a smaller number of letters, winning $40,000 and $10,000 respectively. Julian Schilliger, a robotics student at ETH Zürich, developed a tool that began to automatically segment the scrolls. They will share the $700,000 grand prize.

Nat Friedman, a tech investor and executive, and one of the challenge’s organizers, recently printed out the winning submission. “All this has been in this dreamlike digital world in my imagination before," Friedman says. "Seeing it on paper, rolling it up, it just made it so tangible.”

There’s a lot more to discover. The scroll partially decoded by the winning submission was one of 800 discovered in a southern Italian villa that was first uncovered in 1750. The combined efforts of the competitors and organizers so far have resulted in around 5% of one scroll being read.

The final scramble to read the scrolls

Since the Vesuvius Challenge launched nearly a year ago, participants had both cooperated and competed, sharing their latest techniques with each other and posting pictures of their progress. But as the race for the grand prize intensified, the Discord, a social media platform where the participants shared information, went dark, says Friedman.

Of the eighteen submissions for the grand prize, most of them were received on the last day of the contest, Dec. 31, and three were sent in the final ten minutes, according to Friedman. Friedman recalls he was at home with his family around Christmas, decorating for the holiday while compulsively refreshing his phone, when the winning submission came in. “I ran into my little office at home and popped it open,” he says. “I was like, ‘Wow, this is really magnificent.’”

In accordance with the criteria set in March 2023, the winning submission contains four passages of 140 characters each, with at least 85% of the characters in each of those passages recoverable by professional papyrologists. It also contains a further 11 columns of text.

It isn’t known who authored the ancient scroll, but experts have developed theories. “Is the author Epicurus' follower, the philosopher and poet Philodemus, the teacher of Vergil? It seems very likely,” writes Richard Janko, professor of classical studies at the University of Michigan. “Is he writing about the effect of music on the hearer, and comparing it to other pleasures like those of food and drink? Quite probably.” Robert Fowler, a professor of Greek at the University of Bristol, also believes the author to be Philodemus. “Like other Epicureans, he valued pleasure above all - but pleasure rightly understood, not mere indulgence,” Fowler writes of the philosopher.

In the final section of the scroll, the author appears to criticize his intellectual adversaries, who “have nothing to say about pleasure, either in general or in particular, when it is a question of definition.”

“I can't help but read it as a 2000 year old blog post, arguing with another poster,” says Friedman. “It's ancient Substack, and people are beefing with each other, and I think that's just amazing.”

What comes next

The Vesuvius Challenge has issued a new grand prize for 2024 that will allow the AI-enhanced decoding to move at a faster pace.

The competitors largely have been developing algorithms for automatic letter detection—using AI to see traces of ink on segments of virtually unrolled scrolls. Aside from letter detection, the other main challenge associated with reading the scrolls is segmentation—separating the layers and virtually unrolling the scrolls. So far, this process has been highly manual; the Vesuvius Challenge employed three full-time segmenters. In order to ensure that they’d have segmented enough of the scroll for someone to win the grand prize, Friedman bought the team new monitors and computers to boost their productivity. The challenge for 2024 is to automate the segmentation process.

Friedman admits that he has had other tempting offers of new quests to pursue. Over the last year, he says his inbox has been filled with Robinson Crusoe-esque proposals, from people alerting him to lost shipwrecks and ancient cities, undecoded languages, and strange glyphs on the sides of mountains.

But he can’t walk away. He wants to help read all of the 800 scrolls already discovered in the villa. And some archeologists believe there is a main library containing tens of thousands of scrolls, still waiting to be excavated.

To expedite the excavation, Friedman has obtained the mobile number of the Italian civil servant responsible for the villa, whom he has texted, twice. “My hope is that I won't have to go and dig it out myself,” says Friedman. “But if that's what it comes to, I will.”

By WILL HENSHALL.

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

Hiiii I have a community question I wanted to ask!!

Abed mentions all sorts of movies and tv shows through out Community, but I just wanted to know if maybe you have like a list of which ones are real and which ones he seemed to like more than others.

I can only think of the dark knight because of the dvd Annie broke, and the Star Wars movies (except he apparently hates the prequels) and cougar town!

great question! sorry for the delay on a response.

so, he mentions/references an insane number of movies and tv shows throughout the series, and I unfortunately do not have a list of every single one. although, I am (VERY slowly) working on an in-depth episode-by-episode analysis of the entire series, and listing every pop culture reference is a subsection in that. but that's not helpful right now. moving on

I don't have the picture, but there's this questionnaire abed filled out (outside of the show, it must have been uploaded to a website as promotional material for the show). he says his favorite movie is a tie between:

ghostbusters (1984, comedy/horror)

an american werewolf in london (1981, horror)

back to the future (1985, sci-fi/comedy)

blade runner (1982, sci-fi/action)

stand by me (1986, adventure/comedy)

stripes (1981, comedy/war)

star wars (1977, sci-fi/fantasy, also called "a new hope")

star wars: the empire strikes back (1980, sci-fi/fantasy)

star wars: the return of the jedi (1983, sci-fi/fantasy)

ferris bueller's day off (1986, comedy/drama)

jaws (1975, thriller/adventure)

raising arizona (1987, comedy/crime)

jurassic park (1993, adventure/sci-fi)

seven (1995, crime/mystery)

the matrix (1999, action/sci-fi)

the goonies (1985, adventure/comedy)

the breakfast club (1985, comedy/romance)

real genius (1985, comedy/sci-fi)

better off dead (1985, comedy/romance)

the fog of war (2003, documentary/war)

pulp fiction (1994, crime/thriller)

(btw if anyone knows what I’m talking about and has the screenshot please rb with it! I cannot for the life of me find it lmao)

I believe this is a list he apparently made in 2009, either in the first few weeks of school or right before the school year started. so it's possible he would answer differently as the series progressed. also, I do take some of these extra-canon things with a grain of salt, as on the same form he said his favorite place on campus was study room D or something, when obviously they definitely meant to write study room F. so, the credibility of my source for this information isn't exactly rock-solid. although, he does mention a lot of these movies on screen, and expresses love for many of them (the most notable ones probably being star wars episodes IV-VI, the breakfast club, and pulp fiction)

as you can see from the list, abed particularly loves american movies from the 80's. just a trend I thought I’d point out.

here's a few others he mentions loving, or just pretty notably references:

the dark night (2008, action/crime, as you mentioned)

rudolph the red-nosed reindeer (1964, musical/animated, is the whole basis of 2x11 abed's uncontrollable christmas)

the shawshank redemption (1994, horror/crime, is the basis for his plot with troy, annie, and shirley in 4x05 cooperative escapism in familial relations)

freaky friday (I believe it's the original one from 1976 specifically, but it's been remade a bunch. comedy/fantasy. it's the basis of abed and troy's story in 4x11 basic human anatomy)

rambo/first blood (series starting in 1982, action/thriller. abed talks about how messy the progressive series titles are in 3x14 pillows and blankets)

ocean's eleven (2001, crime/thriller, the basis for the heist scene from 3x21 the first chang dynasty)

hearts of darkness (1991, documentary/war, abed mentions it while pointedly filming dean pelton's production of his greendale commercial rather than helping with the commercial itself. similarly, hearts of darkness filmed the making of apocalypse now)

apocalypse now (1979, war/action, see the above explanation)

die hard (series starting in 1988, action/thriller, abed mentions wanting to do a die hard homage for christmas multiple times throughout season 4)

good will hunting (1997, thriller/romance, troy and abed's story in 1x24 english as a second language is filled with references to this movie. abed is doing homages on purpose, troy is not)

my dinner with andre (1981, comedy/drama, abed does a very elaborate homage at jeff's accidental expense in 2x19 critical film studies)

indiana jones (raiders of the lost ark, temple of doom, and the last cruscade only. he mentions loving the first three indiana jones movies in 1x04 social psychology)

aliens (1986, action/adventure/sci-fi, he and troy dress up as an alien and ripley in 2x06 epidemiology) (side note, I believe they're specifically referencing aliens, which is a sequel to alien. could be wrong though)

blade (1998, horror/action, they watch it over the course of 3x15 origins of vampire mythology after troy and abed assert multiple times that it is an amazing movie)

I think he generally talks about movies more than he talks about tv shows, but he does mention quite a few of them. some notable mentions are:

friends (1994, sitcom, mentions at least twice)

m*a*s*h (1972, sitcom, mentions in passing in 1x05 advanced criminal law, and references throughout 1x13 investigative journalism)

the cape (2011, action, mentions throughout 4x13 advanced introduction to finality)

who's the boss (1984, sitcom, is the premise of his whole storyline in 2x20 competitive wine tasting)

LOST (2004, sci-fi, mentions at least twice)

obviously there are a LOT more, but I just tried to list some of the most important ones, plot-wise and for understanding of his character. hopefully I’ll be able to get back to everyone with a super long list of every tv show and movie he ever mentions lmao, but that'll take a while. (there are lists online that say they list every movie and tv show abed has ever mentioned, but ngl I don't 100% trust those, so I’ll make my own lmao. but I put the link to one of them if you're curious. here's another one too)

at this point anyone who has seen community knows there are some really really big ones that I haven’t mentioned yet. pieces of media that are INTEGRAL to abed as a character. I was saving them for last lmfao. they are:

kickpuncher

inspector spacetime

cougar town

if I had to pick a holy trinity of media for abed, it would be these three things. these are EASILY the things he talks about the most, which is interesting, as both the kickpuncher movie franchise and the inspector spacetime series are completely fictional, and only exist in the community universe. (this is probably so they can show abed actually watching some of the shows/movies he talks about, without the obvious copyright issues that come with playing clips from an already existing movie/tv show on your screen. they kind of do that with blade in 3x15, but they only play vague fighting sounds, and never show their tv on our screen. anyway. not relevant.) to answer one of your questions from the ask, I believe those two are the ONLY fictional pieces of media abed talks about. as far as I know, everything else he mentions is real, including cougar town.

kickpuncher is obviously reminiscent of sci-fi/action films from the 80's, like robocop. like I said earlier, taking their place so that they could have a more substantial role in abed's on-screen life without any copywrite worries. it's a whole franchise, so there are multiple movies: kickpuncher, kickpuncher 2: codename: punchkicker, kickpuncher 3: the final kickening, kickpuncher: detroit, kickpuncher: miami (?), and kicksplasher (?). kicksplasher is apparently shown as a poster on abed's wall, and I’m assuming it's from the same franchise, although that could be wrong. the point is there's a very elaborate universe for kickpuncher, and it's a big part of abed's, and later troy's, film taste. the first time they mention it is in 1x15 romantic expressionism, when abed, troy, shirley, pierce, and chang all get together in abed's dorm room to make fun of stupid movies together. it's funny that it was introduced as a stupid movie to watch ironically, then troy and abed both end up genuinely loving it lmao. classic

inspector spacetime is obviously reminiscent of doctor who. they're both british sci-fi series that have been running for decades. doctor who uses a police box to travel the multiverse, while doctor who uses a telephone box. doctor who has malicious daleks who chant "exterminate," while inspector spacetime has blorgons who shout "eradicate." the concepts of the shows are obviously the same, with the actor for the doctor changing every season, etc etc. they're essentially the same exact show, but, like I said before, changed slightly so they can world-build without getting copywrited. there is something a little bit silly about this, though. it's definitely a continuity error and it's up to everyone whether they want to accept it as canon or not, I guess, but there's an episode where abed is actually wearing a doctor who t-shirt. (it also references bill and ted, but the doctor who part is what's relevant.) here's some pictures:

awesome shirt tbh, but it is a little bit funny that is essentially makes it true that doctor who and inspector spacetime both exist in the community universe. and, these pictures are from the cold open of 4x11 basic human anatomy, which is way after inspector spacetime is introduced to the show (3x01 biology 101). so, is inspector spacetime just a rip-off of doctor who? is abed a fan of both shows? if he is, clearly he likes inspector spacetime better. anyway. I would guess that this wasn't intentional. but that is definitely a tardis on that shirt. maybe it's just a classic season 4 continuity mistake. oh well. I guess that's just how the cookie crumbles. anyway.

cougar town time! yes, it's a real show. I didn't think it was but it is. what's not real is cougarton abbey, the short-lived british remake that britta gets abed into in 3x01 biology 101. but yeah. it has 6 seasons and is streaming on hulu, if you're interested. I’ve heard it's not good but who knows for sure. something cool about cougar town is that abed is actually in an episode. let me be clear: not danny pudi. ABED. it's similar to the story abed tells about being invited to the cougar town set and shitting his pants while having an existential crisis about the layers of reality. here is a youtube clip of the scene. I found out about it while stalking danny pudi's wikipedia page months ago, you know, a typical sunday afternoon activity, and I saw a cougar town credit on there. I didn't even know it was a real show at that point so you can imagine my surprise lmao. anyway. idk if you knew that already but it's one of my favorite community easter eggs. so funny.

okay! I hope this is enough information to suit your needs, and I am once again opening the floor to anyone who wants to add anything 💯 this was fun, thanks for the ask, and stay fresh everyone ✌️

[hoodharlow]

The Bae Area (insta AU)

AN: I got a few asks asking me more about this concept so I decided to revive the chapter I scrapped but while y'all wait here's an Insta AU. Cal petting gif by @uservalentine for my El Novio girlies, our faves make a cameo lol

Requested? A few anons

Warnings: Claudia haters and nosy fans

Word Count: n/a

•••

@'mdmupdates: Miriam at Jack's show in LA via Instagram Stories

•••

@'5sosupdates_: Calum and his gf seemingly are in San Diego. The 2nd video isn't cooperating but in the video Miriam Dominguez, Calum and Calum's gf were at Jack Harlow's concert in San Diego

@'miriamstan: my girls <3 also not Miriam with a fake septum piercing. I just know she's mad it's not gold like her necklace lol

@'claudiahater: can C-word not post Cal like we get it, he's your boyfriend 🙄

@'claudiaytfan: crazy how a few years back Claudia interviewed Jack for her college's radio station and now she's at his concert

@'5sosstanthatlikesclaudia: everyone thank Claudia for the Cal update 🥰

@'jackstan: this is so random

-> @'5sosstan: not really, Miriam and Claudia are besties and Miriam is friends with Jack. Someone literally commented above that Claudia interviewed Jack for a college thing. The video is probably on YouTube since Claudia uploaded several to her channel

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•••

@'mdm: just me and this specific shade of green against the world <3

Also can't wait to show y'all a little something that I did with @'complex and @'jpl at my favorite place in the country aka @'SneakerStoreinOakland

@'jackharlow: you're welcome for the NB hook up

-> @'mdm: tyyy amiguis <3

-> @'mackshipper: miriam please get him out of the friend zone 😭

@'haileybieber: the best color on the best girl

@'shawnmendes: 😍

->@'shawnfan: *ariana what are you doing here*

-> @'mdmfan: wasn't he at Jack's show in LA 👀

-> @'shabrinaship: he was there with Sabrina Carpenter

@'miriamstan: Miriam finally did a sneaker shopping video

@'complex: our new record holder

-> @'mdmxjh: I don't even wanna know how much she spent 😭

-> @'sneakerhead: you mean how much her daddy spent, she doesn't do shit. She's just some rich girl that's appropriating sneaker culture

-> @'miriamfan: based on your profile you're just some white man that buys and resells shoes. If anyone is appropriating sneaker culture it's you, you ugly loser

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•••

@'jackharlowsource: Jack via Instagram Stories

@'jackstan: who did he crop 😳🤔👀

@'jackfan: that def looks like Miriam’s hand and she was at his Oakland show

-> @'jhstan: she was also at the San Jose with her grandma

-> @'jackfan: I bet they're fucking. There's now way you go to 4 shows back-to-back just bc

-> @'miriamstan: y'all chill, she has a boyfriend. The other day she tweeted about how her man hit it and left her feeling nostalgic lmao

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@'mdm: the bae area 🤍🤎🖤

@'saintclauds: the prettiest 🤍

@'jackharlow: not you cropping my girl

-> @'mdm: you know damn well she couldn't sit still. Also don't act like you're not above cropping

-> @'mdmxjh: *druski voice* what do you mean by that 👀

@'zendaya: 😍

@'lilnasx: the 3rd pic, okay tiddies

@'shawnmendes: ♥️

->@'mackshipper: como dice Demi Lovato 'GET A JOB, STAY AWAY FROM HER'

->@'2018shawn: omg I've been manifesting this since he broke up with canola oil 😫

-> @'mirawnship: I noticed he's been interacting more and more on her posts. He fits the guy in the middle picture 👀👀👀 plus we all know they stopped fucking around when he started to get close to the racist for the PR bullshit. Maybe they're a thing again

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•••

@'jackharlow: More inspired than I've ever been...never had a better pen...never felt truly understood until now...I knew I was a star but I finally got the evidence...I'm the truth and I think it's finally setting in...I think they finally acceptin in

@'mdm: superstar ❣

->@'mdmxjh: no bc she used the same emoji to credit her bf on her post and Jack commented on it

->@'jackharlowfan: it's not that deep plus I'm pretty sure Shawn is her bf

@'urbanwyatt: they're not ready

@playthehomies: ⛲⛲⛲

@'claybornharlow: this one is gonna be a game changer

@'lilnasx: 🥵

@'jackstan: anyone see the video of Miriam and Jack leaving together 👀

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[cilil]

Narrative echoes, or: The dynamic of Fëanor and Melkor

(And some notes on The Morgoth)

I promised an analysis for these two and I shall deliver. There will be three parts (the titles will make sense in the end), with the second being the longest. Obligatory disclaimer that this is just somebody on the internet expressing their thoughts and research and all that and there is no need to get upset. Let's go.

Huge thank you to @caitlincalculator and @mirkwood for their support and encouragement so I can finally tackle this.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑶𝒏𝒆: 𝑺𝒌𝒚

Fëanor and Melkor. To call them mere enemies may be an understatement, considering how they sealed each other's fates. But there is more to their dynamic than enmity - there are also strong narrative parallels that enhance both of their arcs and the underlying message, painting a fascinating picture of the dangers of pride and the pitfalls of potential.

Let's begin by highlighting some key traits they have in common.

Firstly, and perhaps most notably, Melkor and Fëanor are the greatest of their kind, mightiest of the Ainur and mightiest of the Elves respectively. Both were born/created with incredible potential to accomplish great things. And they have undoubtedly been great; in Fëanor's case more obviously so, with all the marvelous works he created (the Silmarils, the Palantíri, etc). In Melkor's case one may wonder if his deeds can truly count as great accomplishments that would in any way be comparable to either Fëanor or his own peers, given how many of his plans and goals were destructive and a significant amount also ended up as failures or backfired in some way or another.

Yet, while Melkor doesn't have that one masterful work on par with the Silmarils to present, he has single-handedly changed the fate of the universe through his discord, so thoroughly that his influence can never be fully eradicated until the world is remade ("a seed that does not die and cannot be destroyed; and ever and anon it sprouts anew, and will bear dark fruit even unto the latest days"). Him pouring his spiritual essence into Arda has undoubtedly weakened him on a personal level, but also created an ultimate lose-lose situation where defeating him for good necessitates the end of the world. Melkor essentially has his own One Ring and said Ring is the very world that Eru made indestructible via fate itself, even if someone tried (at least until Dagor Dagorath, if one wants to still consider it part of their personal canon). Thus, Melkor has accomplished something terrible but nevertheless great, and both he and Fëanor have closely identified themselves with a piece of creation that they had a hand in making and shaping, to the point that their fates and possibly lives are tied to it.

Even so, they could have used their potential to achieve even greater things or at least more great things. As far as Fëanor is concerned this is made explicit in the text - "The works of wonder for the glory of Arda that he might otherwise have wrought only Manwë might in some measure conceive" - and I would argue that it's very likely that Manwë thought and felt similarly about Melkor who "he knew that in the beginning, in the thought of Ilúvatar, [...] had been even as he". One can only imagine the possibilities if things had been different.

Both Fëanor and Melkor are, or at least at some point were, known for ambitious creative pursuits. They feel the need to and were destined to, putting it in very general terms, make things. Furthermore, they both seem to prefer working alone generally, but ultimately can't create all on their own. Once again, Fëanor shows this more clearly by willingly seeking the company and wisdom of Nerdanel in particular. Melkor on the other hand thinks himself above such partnerships and, if he ever had or at least desired a relationship like this, refused to admit so. Yet even he was made to cooperate with others and, despite his best efforts, finds himself in need of some sort of creative partner who picks up and carries out the project he starts. This role was supposed to be taken by Manwë and later taken over by Mairon.

Tying into this, Fëanor and Melkor also appear to feel drawn to fellow creatives. Nerdanel, Mairon and various other associates of Aulë, Maiarin or Elven, come to mind. One may even say they were drawn to each other, at least Melkor to Fëanor. Perhaps the feeling would have been mutual in another scenario too. Whether they like to admit it or not, the creativity and works of others can rouse their curiosity as much as their own and they may seek to get involved in one way or another, one example being Melkor's attempt to claim partial credit for the making of the Silmarils.

Fëanor and Melkor also share a connection to the element of fire. Aside from the usual connotations of fire - passion, destructive potential, rage, zeal and divinity (within the context of Christianity), energy, fear, heat, beauty - it has a special importance within the context of the legendarium, being connected to the Flame Imperishable with which the ëalar of the Ainur were kindled and a spark of which is within every fëa, granting sentience and free will. For Fëanor it's even in his name: Spirit of Fire. Melkor is, while being jack-of-all-trades among the Ainur, most commonly associated with fire and ice, as well as extreme heat and cold, and many fire spirits serve him.

Another interesting parallel between Fëanor and Melkor is the lack of a mother figure. Once again this is more palpable in Fëanor's case, since he was born to Míriel who then grew weary of living and departed. Being the only Elfling at the time who had lost a parent, Fëanor grew up in unusual circumstances and was deeply affected by it. One can only imagine a young Fëanor seeing other Elflings with their mothers and trying to understand why his was no longer with him.

Melkor on the other hand never had a mother in the first place, as do all the Ainur; they're also not born like Elflings are, but instead created by one single parent. Eru is a sexless and likely also genderless entity, but has chosen to present himself as a father, most likely to make his existence and role a little more comprehensible to his creations. He also acts - if his behavior can be compared to any concept or experience familiar to us - more like a father, a distant one at that. Thus, one may conclude that, even if Melkor had a limited (if any) understanding of what a mother is and no exposure to his peers having another parent, he has certainly lacked at least the abstract concept of motherly qualities in a parent, and that it has affected him at least insofar that he may have turned out differently if the situation had been different.

One last interesting observation I've made while comparing Fëanor and Melkor that I want to highlight here is that they both also have the capacity to master the tools of others in addition to their own creations. In the Silmarils, Fëanor preserved the light of the Two Trees of Valinor which had been created by Yavanna. Melkor learned language in addition to ósanwë - which is the native form of communication for an Ainu - to communicate with incarnates whose minds weren't open and became quite adept at Quenya. This shows not only adaptability and intelligence on both of their parts, but also that their skill and influence isn't limited to one designated craft or realm. They're not afraid to expand their reach and set of skills to accomplish what they seek to accomplish.

To be continued in part two...

[empressgeekt]

Trolls - Amnesia-Rock-Prince!Branch in An Arranged Marriage Au - Role Reversal Au (part 1)

SO, so earlier I read a fic where Poppy didn't go to branch for help in the first movie and the village was left abandoned with Branch as the only survivor after the revival of Trollstice. Meaning he was alone when Barb invaded...And it has inspired a different route on to how Char and Poppy would meet.

Char = Branch as it would.

We start with the events of the first movie. Poppy would run off to save her friends and she would succeed, however, when they arrived back to the village there wasn't anyone there. Or at least that's what the snackpack thinks. They find little Keith crawling out of some of the fresh rubble, he has a small frown but it was Shocking to Poppy as the boy was usually expressionless. From Keith they learn that the bergens came back while they were trying to leave, and his dad hid him in a bush. The attack was days ago...

Some members of the SnackPack want to go back to get the rest of the village, but Poppy knows that she barely got her friends out of there, an entire village was a completely different challenge, and Trollistice had already passed...They would need help. There had to be people out there who would help them.

Staying in the village is out of the question, so they gather what they can from the destruction, and move on. They walk for days, and living in the woods is harder then expected. It really opens Poppy's eyes to the true nature of the wilderness, especially since she's taking care of Keith (the Blank child clings to her since she found him). They try singing to keep their spirits up, but singing attracts predators. Large spiders and snakes, come at them from all directions. Creek (no he didn't betray them...yet) can't talk them down. Food is scarce, they don't know which berries are safe. And eventually they all get caught in a storm, getting washed away.

By some miracle they all wake up the next morning by the edge of the forest. Before them stretches vast plains, some patches of the ground darkened in ways they are un-familiar. Here they are faced with a choice go back into the forest with all it's dangers or face the unknown ones just beyond the threshold. Creek tries to argue that they should stay with what they know, convincing Biggie, Guy Diamond (who has been feeling sick), and the twins that they shouldn't take a chance. However, Poppy, Cooper, DJ, smidge and Fuzzbert think that the unknown is worth the risk. Cooper saying he was technically from the unknown, and maybe they could find where he was born. In the end Creek is out-voted.

The plains are different. There aren't as many spiders or birds, but snakes are still an issue as well as a lack of natural shelter for the sun. its hot, and it only grows hotter. the land slowly becomes more and more burnt, more and more black. The ground is turning their feet red as they walked. Then they heard a screech, and were swarmed with Leather Vipers (leather Vipers are the main predators in my version of Rock Troll territory, basically picture a mix of snake/ Dragon made of polished leather and glowing warped metal teeth, claws and horns). It looks like the end, until they hear a second screm from above.

And Anglerbus is over head, and jumping from it, are...other trolls. Coming to the SnackPack's rescue. A few power cords and the vipers are scared off. Poppy feels great relief at seening them. They weren't the last trolls, these guys were here, and even better they had ways to defend themselves. In her eyes they were saved. Creek while thankful to not be dead, isn't as welcoming of these strangers. These dully color strangers covering in scares and scowling at them. At least on the surface, he's still "polite" to get the aid their group desperately needed.

Val Thundershock is part of the group that was on the Anglerbus, she's a little surprised to find a group of Pop trolls (and one funk) out in the Rock Wastes. No one knew where the Pop trolls had gone since the split and frankly no one cared, however she did want to know why they would suddenly invade the territory.

Val: Well, Well, Well, we got us some little pop trolls, now what exactly are you doing in Rock territory?

Poppy: Hi, first off thank you so much, we would've been if it wasn't for you.

Val: yeah I know, now what are you doing here? I hope you realize that Pop trolls aren't exactly welcome here.

Creek (rudely cuts in): Pop trolls?

Val: That's what you are right? Peppy, over excited, happy music lovers?

Poppy: Well kinda...

Val: Then you might as well turn around. Your kind isn't welcome here.

Poppy: Wait please!

Val: Go home, there's nothing for you here

Poppy: We don't have a home! Our home was destroyed by the bergens! We're all that's left!

Val dismissal is finally the thing that gets Poppy to shout. Finally accepting that yes her home is gone and that they were the only survivors. They all had been ignoring the subject while the woods. It's a hard truth to swallow, but one she chokes down to get Val to listen. And listen Val does. When Poppy confirms that they were indeed the last pop trolls. Val immediately shifts gears, as even if the tribes didn't get along, Genres needed each other to remain in balance. Not since the dancing plague of the disco tribe did one go completely extinct. Still it isn't her call, to preserve the genre. Thankfully she was on the same ride, as a very close friend to her. She tells one of the Rockers to contact Prince Char.

Creek, pulls Poppy aside, and expresses his concerns over these new trolls. Saying they shouldn't trust them. Poppy asks why, and Creek starts explaining that he was warned about trolls who were dulled. Saying that when he was a child there had been a grey trolling who lived near by and that grey one had killed his own grandmother. Poppy, says that she understands that Creek is scared, but they don't really have a choice. AT that moment Guy would throw up adding to Poppy's argument, saying that at the least they need food, shelter and a doctor for Guy. Creek can't really argue, especially since one of the Rock trolls came over to help the twins ease Guy too the ground.

The Anglerbus would land, and Char would walk out. The Rockers salute him as their prince, and that kind of intimidates Poppy, as while she is a Princess, she never actually interacted with another member of Royalty beyond her Dad. And Char is by far the dullest of all the strange trolls. Creeks words getting to her. Speaking of the idiot, he steps in to be the first to speak to the Prince.

Creek: Prince Char, it is lovely to meet you, I hope to extend an arm in friendship yes?

Char (not shaking Creek's hand): You speak for this group?

Creek: Well in a way. I-I wouldn't go that far. Second in command or spiritual leader might be a better fit. I do hope we can-

Char: cut to the chase, what is your business here?

Creek (taken aback): We come for aid, please it was horrible our village is destroyed. As fellow trolls we need to stick together.

Char (laughing dryly): You come here preaching unity after your kind split us apart. it's so ironic its funny.

Creek: I believe I don't understand.

Char: Centuries ago, the six tribes lived in harmony, until the Pop trolls, you kind tried to wipe out the rest of us. Destorying out music and culture triggering the great split and forcing us from our homes. Seem's the universe has come back to bit you.

Creek: I'm not sure where you've heard that but I assure you these rumors are not true in the slightest.

Char: they're aren't rumors their history. My people wouldn't be living out in these wastelands if it weren't for the split.

Creek: Then your history is incorrect. We'd never do such a thing, all trolls are supposed to be friends.

Char: *hum*, Treat there wounds, but start the bus, you'll receive no aid from us.

Creek: What?

Char: Don't act shocked, you gave everything I need to know. That "greater then thou" act won't fly here. You're intentions are not ones I can put trust or faith in, because they are not genuine. Go back to your king or and queen and tell them if they were trying an invasion, we the people of Rock will not hesitate to rain down hell fire on your home land.

Poppy: Wait! Please! *runs towards Char, with Keith in her arms only to be blocked by the Rockers* We're telling the truth! We don't have a home to go back too! We're all that's left Please help us!

Char: And who are you?

Poppy: I'm Princess Poppy, and I'm begging you. Help us.

Char: Take them up, get them settle, doctors food water. Then bring the princess to my quarters. We need to talk privately.

______

And I'll cut this off here. There's going to be a part 2.