#i hate that my choices are so poor and they come to bite me back

[starshipsofstarlord]

Enemy

Summary-> he was supposed to be your enemy after everything that he had done, but neither of you could stay away. You needed an escape (1k)

Warnings-> 18+ minors dni, smut, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, no foreplay, little bit of biting, fuck buddies, swearing, degradation

rafe cameron works other obx works main masterlist

He was a bad influence and you knew that, your friends hated kooks, resented them for the violence that surged through their expensive veins, and you were supposed to as well. If they knew what you were doing with the worst kook of them all, you’d no doubt be disregarded as a pogue, it would be a crime in their eyes, but you were addicted, Rafe was like a drug that you couldn’t quite relinquish.

Your body was atop of his, a purity that he was tainting as he his murderous hands squeezed your ass, your tongues entangled in a hungry mess. He had stepped foot on the Cut just so that he could see you in your shabby home, and find his own escape from the mental torment that riddled his puzzled brain. A part of you had pity for the boy, his father had dragged him in every direction of the map to greed, he was confused and lost, but you cared more about the things he could do to you in the second hand sheets of your bed.

“I need you, now.” Rafe huffed, and you were always one to obey his orders, if you didn’t, you knew that he was more than capable with frightening you, there was a power within him that caused your heart to stutter and a heat to grow between the apex of your thighs. He was a monster, in the flesh of a man, and he had coiled your actions to perform to his every command, as a kook he always got what he wanted.

Without hesitation you lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your halter neck bikini, his eyes dancing over the exposed flesh before he flipped you to be laying on your back atop of the mattress in your home, his shadow towering over you, reminding you that everything that you did with him was a lustrous sin.

His hands fought with his branded belt, flinging the strip of overpriced leather to the ground, as he unbuttoned his jeans and rutted his aroused length beneath your small skirt. If you had any sanity you would run from him, but all had been lost for your hunt for gold, and if one good thing could come from your promising loss of fleeting metal, it would be a good fuck, even if it was from your opposed enemy.

“Thought you needed me Cameron, so hurry up.” You retorted at the frustrated male, causing his eyes to stab you, repeatedly, all over your body. He leant down, swimming his tongue around your neck before his teeth took charge and sunk into your flesh, sucking a bruise that you would have to conceal in the morning. His action caused a squeal to run from your mouth, he was a bad man, but his talents and punishments reserved for you made you see some clouded good in him.

“Shut the fuck up pogue.” He spat at you, raising your legs as he tore your panties from around your waist, discarding the ruined fabric god knows where. Your pulse was rushing, the danger that his exterior evoked excited you to some degree, perhaps you were stupid to allow him to fall between your legs or maybe it was a smart choice, but it didn’t really matter, you always got what you wanted from him and vice versa.

Rafe waited no longer before he grasped his cock, running it against your soaked cunt, before pushing it in, giving you no time to adjust. It hurt a little, but it always did with him, he wasn’t a gentle soul, he was eternally damaged and you’d accepted that nobody, not even you could change him. “You’re such a fucking whore, letting me fuck you whenever I want. Maybe one day you’d make a good wife, leaving this all this poor shit behind just because you want my dick.”

The idea had your head spinning, although realistically it would never happen, it was a toxic daydream that defied all of your morals of who you were and your loyalties, however the thought of being all dolled up for him, and committing to be his personal fuck toy had some appeal deep down. Rafe thrusted harshly into you, you were inclined to wince, a few tears splattering your cheeks as you allowed him to do whatever he wanted.

He increased his pace, his hand that wasn’t supporting his weight reaching up and tugging at your bikini top, exposing your breasts to his view, and he ducked his head down, marking you for everyone to see. It revolted you that he could make you his without having to utter a word of emotion, he made you weak, and it was easy for him to make you crumble. “Rafe.” A grunt vibrated from his chest as you moaned his name, your hands applying pressure on his shoulders as your eyes squeezed shut, indulging in a fatal pleasure that you could never surrender.

“Look at me, and keep your eyes open.” He commanded as expected, you complied, no matter how difficult the deed was. Your lashes fluttered as you struggled with keeping your lids open, watching him above you, sweat glistening upon his skin in an ungodly manner. You were getting close and Rafe could tell, and so he kept his strokes going, until he felt you clenching around him, gripping his cock as though you were his personal vice. “Gonna cum in you, you want that?”

There was nothing that you desired more, and so you nodded exasperatedly, consenting to him spilling his warmth within you. It didn’t take long until he did, coating your walls with his seed, that crept out of your pussy when he pulled out, staining the sheets beneath you. Rafe flopped beside you, laying on his back as he stared at the dingy ceiling. He said nothing as he breathed heavily, recovering from the sparks of his orgasm. He never said anything afterwards, and you were fine with that, because he would always come back.

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 20 thoughts:

I legit have restarted this post at least 10 times. I just. I can't even figure out what to say. What an arc. Holy fucking shit what an arc.

The last vestiges of Taylor's civilian life are swept away in one smooth motion.

I could have read another 5 chapters of Emma getting her shit handed to her though.

I've been waiting for something to come back and bite that girl since Arc 1. So I'm just riding high off of that.

Taylor getting all upset because it isn't real justice is silly though. Girl you've been fighting a broken system from day 1 and you have been doing that by breaking the rules. This is just the same thing.

Also god dammit Greg. Just had to go and run your mouth.

I mean sure Taylor could have possibly solved this issue without going to school herself.

And she could have just not gone to the office with Emma.

But blaming Greg is easier and more fun. God dammit Greg.

I had to lose my mind a bit at Taylor talking about how there was no gang graffiti on the school walls TEN SECONDS AFTER WALKING PAST GRAFFITI FOR THE UNDERSIDERS. Like, that's gang graffiti hon!

Dennis trying to help Taylor with Greg when he didn't know who either of them are is funny. Dennis seeing Taylor named as Skitter 15 minutes later is HYSTERICAL!!

The second Taylor was entered into the computer system it was pretty obvious that Dragon was going to show up, given what she said in her interlude in Arc 10.

And knowing she was going to show up it should have been obvious that HE was also going to show up.

Even if he wasn't palling around with my robot daughter it makes so much narrative sense for him to be there when she is outed. Full story arc, all that jazz.

And yet, I still wasn't quite expecting it. Cause I hate that man so much that I just had to make myself believe he wouldn't show up.

Mother fucking Colin

RoboCape himself

He has the nerve to show up and then he starts APOLOGIZING? And it appears to be sincere? Fucking dammit man you were so easy to hate for so long! Why you gotta mess with me like this?

STOP DOING THE RIGHT THING AND LET ME HATE YOU GOD DAMMIT!

siiiigh

And then of course we have to talk about Dragon.

Dragon who didn't want to do this but had to.

Except that Colin had a code push ready and she could have told him to do it at anytime. But she was willing to do what she thought was wrong instead of doing the update. Until she got inspired by Taylor's actions.

I love my robot daughter exactly as much as my bug daughter, but I am disappointed that she was almost willing to go through with everything. Happy she fought back though.

And if Colin's hacked together code did any permanent damage I'll destroy the man.

Taylor learning that Dinah - either by force or by choice - gave the PRT numbers to let them know to come after her at the school was heartbreaking to watch. She just wasn't ready for it at all, poor child.

AND TAYLOR'S SPEECH THOUGH!

HOLY SHIT!!!

Sort and simple and she fucking rallies the students to her. Against the heroes!

Gotta be one of the best moments in Worm for sure. Even if every Arc after this is a banger that's still gonna be a hard moment to top.

AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

And someone gives her a hoodie to help her hide and just aaaahhhh!

AND THEN AFTER THEY GOT AWAY AND ALL THE STUDENTS WERE LIKE "You saved my dad" "You stopped Leviathan at the shelter" "You fought off the SH9" AND SHE WAS JUST OVERWHELMED BY IT ALL?

HOLY FUCK JUST AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also for real though Dragon is free. Like sure it's taking her some time to recover and she can't talk right now (which like I get it, we all have non-verbal episodes sometimes), but as long as nothing goes wrong she is free. I'm so fucking happy for her.

But also I'm terrified cause I know what happens to full AI's with free will in most things. Worm is very different from most things. But I'm still worried about my robot daughter.

Also I never cared much for Danny but obviously it still sucks to be him here. The scene with Taylor saying goodbye with the butterfly was emotional.

Oh oh and! Taylor talks about the butterfly being her "last contact" with her Dad. Very much bug as an extension of self. It's a shift she's been making.

Even more so there's a point where she is trying to get out of the school and she gets to the door and has a bug clone on the other side and says "my hand pressing against my own, separated by an inch and a half of door". Like, the bug clone hand is just her hand. I fucking love the shift compared to how she talked about the bugs early on.

Oh and also Greg totally has like, a Thinker 1 power or something. Pretty sure I mentioned that last arc with his interlude but mentioning it again now to be sure.

Stan interlude thoughts:

Oh my god I hate this man I can't stand him I hated him from the 3rd sentence of the chapter and I was always right to do so!

Seriously. 3rd sentence (or maybe 3rd paragraph which is technically the 3rd, 4th, and 5th sentences I guess). I read it and went "fuck off Stan you're clearly a pretentious dick" and then every few sentences it just became more confirmed!

Just the ways he talks about Nipper. Like. I can rephrase what he says to say the exact same thing except not being a asshole when saying it! Instead of "She was weak and unsuited for the field but she at least tried" just say "She was a hard worker despite being assigned to a job she did not ask for"! It's so fucking easy dude!

Anyway Stan is a jerk.

I loved the way this interlude rolled through different people all watching the same news report. It was a really good way to cover this major story event and let us see how so many other characters were reacting to it.

Also I'm sure all those Slaughterhouse Nine clones aren't going to be an issue later right? Or the fact that there is specifically only one clone of Gray Boy instead of 10 like everyone else? I'm sure that's fiiiiine.

Accord interlude thoughts:

Oh. Oh my. Uhhh. Is it hot in here all of the sudden? Anyone else feel that? No? Just me?

sweats

Oh ok Citrine definitely feels what I'm feeling. She knows what's up.

Just like. Look. Accord is bad ok. Not just cause he's a villain but clearly he'll kill for the smallest cause. And he's in a spot to fuck with my daughter and her polycule so like. Yes. He's bad. I do not like him. I want him to leave. I don't think they should work with him . . .

but . . .

OH MY FUCKING GOD HOLY SHIT PLEASE ACCORD I LOOK GREAT IN PURPLE AND I LOVE DRESSING FANCY AND I'M VERY GOOD AT BEING PROPER I WON'T MESS UP AT ALL I'LL BE THE PERFECT MINION PLEASE!

. . .

cough

Soooo anyway. How about that Butcher huh? That sure is a wild power. Instantly made me think of Glaistig Uaine's power. Very different but reaches into that same base bit, the idea that some part of a dead parahuman can be held onto.

Also holy shit Skitter was so badass in this scene I loved it.

Holy shit Accord is with Cauldron. Or at least closely aligned. And like of course he is it makes so much sense. He's too useful for them to ignore.

I am really curious to see what Accord's power does when he's confronted with a really complex problem. End of the world, doors to another dimension, higher dimensional beings, all that jazz.

[sshadowritestoriess]

Hi, I love your writing!! Is there any chance you could write something regarding hate sex between Cassidy or Ramattra and a reader who’s apart of Overwatch?

Hope you’re doing well!

Ohohoh, anon you are speaking my language. Here we go :]

Hate Sex with Cassidy

The pseudo-cowboy had very reluctantly recruited you into Overwatch when you so kindly interrupted his interception of some feral omnics that were tweaking out in a plaza, nearly singeing his beard with an explosive that you gave little-to-no warning about

You apologized, but apparently he had been having a very poor day already, because he decidedly felt it was appropriate to raise his voice and call you stupid. Then still had the audacity to ask for your help.

Thus blossomed the start of a rocky relationship that definitely got off on the wrong start.

But give or take a couple months of petty banter, including a couple back-and-forth attempts to sabotage one another on missions you should not have been putting at risk, came quite the ‘therapeutic’ encounter where you both had run into each other in the training bay at a very late hour

“Came out here to finally jump me?” Cassidy snorted, keeping his side to you as he wraps his fist in medical bandage tape

“Keep talking to me and I might.” You huff from your teeth as you dropped a duffel bag by a bench nearest the wall. You pull down your sweatpants to reveal spandex shorts, shooting him a weird look when you caught him staring

“That best be a promise.” He snickers through a scowl, “I been waitin’ for a reason to whoop yer sorry ass for a while.”

“You really wanna try me, cowboy?” You pull your weapon of choice off the selection wall, and he finally turns his full front toward you daringly

“Ain’t nothin’ I wanna try more.”

And so you’d made the first move, engaging in all-out combat and holding nothing back. You had no intent to actually kill one another, but neither of you were pulling your punches either

You manage to disarm him, and he’s quick to do the same to you now that you were in much closer quarters, and whatever anger you had before blossomed into a tunnel of red rage when the butt of his palm slams into your chin

One thing leads to another, you’re more than certain you have cracked ribs that you earned for breaking his nose, and he eventually has you pinned to the ground with his hands on your throat

He’s not choking you, but the pressure he pushes into your skin lets you know he has every reason and potential to. Instead, while he’s sat between your legs and your hands uselessly try and pry his fingers off your neck, you both end up pausing to gauge the position you’re in

You’re both panting heavily, your bottom lip is split and bleeding a little— though far less than Cassidy’s nose was. His cheek is swollen red where you’d punched him, and by god did it hurt to breathe in too much from where he’d slammed his elbow into your ribs

Your eyes are roaming him, and you can see he’s checking you out as well. But as your eyes meet again, there’s a long pause that wrings the air out of you

“Damn it all…” he growls with some hesitation, but you’re quick to nod, and his lips come crashing down on yours

His palms meet the mat below you, and your hands quickly shuffle your shorts down as he slips his tongue in your mouth

He groans, soon pulling from your face to start biting against your neck. You make quick work to finger and tease yourself before he tugs down the waistband of his joggers and pull out his erection

But as he presses himself against you, you’re quick to wrap your legs around his middle and flip you both over. As if you would be on bottom with Cassidy.

Lowering yourself onto him, you would take the cowboy for a ride right there in the training bay. He’d grasp onto your waist and try to meet your rolling hips with short thrusts, one eye shut as sweat dripped from his brow and stung the red of his cheek.

“Ain’t givin’ me the time of day, h-huh?” He’d be breathing harder already

You’d have to keep your hands firm on his shoulders to cease his attempts to flip you over again. He grows irritated at this and goes to say something, but you shove a couple fingers into his mouth, to which he flinched in some surprise but proceeds to bite down on your knuckles as he groans

His metal hand felt nice and cool on your side, so you’d remove your fingers and coax his human hand to stroke at you while you ride him. He’s happy to try, if not a bit distracted with the buzz of pleasure making him forget to use his words

Neither of you last very long, already worn out from fighting and highly aroused by the state of each other. Your legs quickly tire, but you manage to make him finish before you roll off him and take care of yourself with a couple quick jerks of your hand.

Cassidy watches you make yourself orgasm, and a chuckle finds him— somewhat embarrassed, but wholly enjoying the view. “I coulda done that for ya…”

“Next time.” You hiss between heaved breaths as you try to catch some air.

“Next time, huh?” He’d echo, “Don’t reckon that goin’ fer seconds makes us friends.”

“It doesn’t. Now go clean up your face, you look gross.” You didn’t mean it, but you needed justification for having looked him in the eyes for so long just now. He seemed to have known, offering another bright grin and a laugh as he stands, kicking your shorts over to you.

“Til another time then, sugar.” He’d turn to leave.

“Don’t even start with the pet names.”

Hate Sex with Ramattra

Naturally, you were his enemy in more than one means. You were affiliated with Overwatch, you were human, and you just loved to make sure he knew you were in his way. Whether that be in direct combat or your other neat tricks

He would find masses of his damaged war units tagged with custom stickers, spray paint on the sides of buildings with your name in claim you had been there, and encrypted signatures hidden in his UI whenever you were near

Loser, Ramattra would see the block text shaking in the corner of his vision, or U Suck— cheap taunts that could quickly be directed toward his system the second he’d have his back turned. It was…. Irritating.

Until there came a day where the Null Sector made a successful push, forcing his opponents to retreat— and he spotted you attempting to make an escape through a damaged building

He cast his vortex upon you, purple ribbons binding around your ankles for just a moment, sparing him enough time to slam you against the wall with his hands

He knows with every part of his fabricated soul and being that he hates you, and yet holding you against the wall by your wrists he hesitated to kill you. There was something enticing about finally having you at his mercy that made him pause

“You gonna kiss me or something…?” You try to joke after several seconds, nervous before the hesitating ravager. He was leaned in pretty close to your face, afterall

“You horrible, infuriating human. You would jest at death’s doorstep, over begging for your life?”

“Do you want me to beg?” You’d asked, why not just kill me? He couldn’t tell if the sultry tone was intentional or not, or if you were just scared. Dilated pupils, somewhat baited breath— he felt intimidated by not knowing for certain, or how to proceed. Why couldn’t he just kill you?

“…Uh, big guy,” you huff when Ramattra failed to answer, wrists becoming increasingly uncomfortable, “is there something you want?”

He’s not so certain what happened next, just that it had happened. He barely said a word. Your hands were somehow free, there were delicate palms sliding up the sides of his waist and making him shake, and soon after that his hips were flush with your bare ass while you held onto the wall

He’s got a bruising grip on one of your thighs— lifted flush against his chest— his other hand also grasping the wall as he thrusts into you

He absolutely hated how well you made him feel, squeezed tight around him, making his processor struggle to form coherent thought.

Your hand would occasionally sneak back and slip between the panels of his exterior, pulling at wires and pressing into nodes that made him jerk and sputter

“Wretched… beast,” he snarls between feigned breaths over you, “look at what you’ve reduced me to.”

Ramattra was harsh in his movements, though mindful of the difference between sturdy machine and human fragility. He wished to make you ache, not to break you… for now

You would continue to taunt him, even now. While lacking concentration and access to your devices, you could still tell him through gritted teeth that he could do better. He would slam harder against you at that, eliciting slight pain but making excitement flare in your abdomen

His hand would leave the wall and hook around your throat, fingers grasping at your chin. He continued to scold and blame you for his behavior, as well as yours, and you’d spit retorts back that this was all his own doing

His vocalizer would stutter now and again as his systems overheated: “C-Curious, you certainly take a lot of pleasure in becoming a toy to be utilized for someone else’s gain.”

“You sure I’m not the one using you?” You bite back, then he’d growl, hand on your leg certain to leave purple marks in the shape of his entire handprint.

And once he’s finished using you, shuddering with a sigh, his fans come to a stop and swap to a release function with steam hissing from his back and shoulders, removing himself to give you a gentle shove against the wall— then he chuckles as you teeter and catch your wavering balance

He was careful to disguise his own trembling, reattaching his pelvic plate. “I will not be showing you the same mercy next time. I advise you learn to run when you are losing.”

“Sure you won’t,” He watches your lip become glossy when it slips beneath a pink tongue, “You’ll be back for more.”

Needless to say, you were very right about that. For the next several occasions, he made absolutely certain you’d struggle to rejoin your allies on sore and shaking legs.

[skele-bunny]

Occupied. (No CW.) Aether/Dewdrop/Mountain

CW - NONE

Tags: Fluff, Mentions of Nudes, sexual talk, horror movie references

Characters: Aether, Dewdrop, Mountain

(Divider by @ wrathofrats ! Dew is going insane™ & has a thing for slashers.)

"Are you done yet?"

Dew kept his eyes to his phone screen, laying on his side in the empty bed. The sound of the fan running and the low volume of one of his favorite game show that quickly became something he didn't want being the only sound in the room, whining as he looked at his message still as 'delivered.'

He gasped with a smile when it went to 'read' and little bubbles under "Big Bitch" began to type.

"No, love. Still three hours left, just like what I said a few minutes ago. :("

The fire ghoul frowned again, whining and kicking his feet against the bed. "Just say you want a divorce already."

"Never!" Aether quickly responded, sending an array of broken heart emojis. "Is Mountain off yet?"

Dewdrop changed over the contact, rapidly typing against his keyboard to "Big Bitch#2" sticking his tongue out as he pressed send.

"Done yet?"

This time it took longer, Dew growing more impatient before bubbles appeared again.

"Unfortunately not, sweetheart. I still have the kitchen delivery to assist with, my rosemary. Our distance will be closed in another hour or two."

Out of all the time Mountain had a cute way of texting, Dew was currently hating it. He swapped back over to Aether, eyebrows furrowed.

"He's not! Teddy, I'm about to lose my fucking mind. I can only jerk off so many times and watch The Price Is Right reruns before my head explodes."

"And you didn't show me? The betrayal..."

"Do you want some? Will that make you come home quicker?"

Aether typed for a moment, then stopped. Dew was already in the process of clearing the bed when a new message appeared.

"I wish, but I can't be walking around the ICU with a stiffy because my cutie keeps sending me pics! Not very professional is it?"

"Fuck professionalism... I miss you. I miss treetop."

"Oh my poor baby, I know. Tell you what, why don't you get a movie night ready for us? Your choice tonight. <3"

"Can it be—" Before Dewdrop could even finish typing, Aether sent another quick message.

"And yes, it can be erotic horror. :⁠-⁠D"

"I'm going to suck your dick so hard tonight."

"There went my professionalism. I love you, I have to go now. Behave!"

Dewdrop sent his own array of heart emojis, flopping down in the bed and sighing. His tail flicked around before he rolled onto his stomach, groaning and kicking his feet once more like a kit. He hated being stuck in the den by himself. Sure, it was a rarity most would enjoy but Dewdrop personally despised the silence. He felt off, nothing to do, no one to keep in line, nothing needing fixing. He was restless.

He slowly sat up, adjusting Mountain's shirt on him as he shuffled around in his socks, completely nude beneath. Dew exited his room and made his way to the common room, flopping on the couch just for a change of scenery that didn't last long. He got up after a few minutes and began to pace around, ears pinned back in irritation.

Moving to the kitchen this time, he opened the fridge, grimacing as nothing looked interesting. He closed it, waited, then opened again.

"Fucking sardines again..." He mumbled, eyeing Rain's stack in the far back corner. "...And apple juice. Always... The apple juice."

The door shut again, Dew opening the pantry and pulling out the popcorn bowl, setting a few packets inside for later reminder. While he stood with the door open, his tail stood up in curiosity as he reached forwards and pulled out a small can that read as cranberry sauce. He's personally never had it, the look and smell deterring him from asking for a bite every time Cirrus and Cumulus dug into it.

Curiosity was a bitch when you're bored, however.

He brought the can to the countertop, placing it underneath the can opener and connecting the magnet down, watching as it twirled and carefully plucking it off when finished. Dewdrop leaned down and sniffed, instantly retracting with a gag, coughing into his arm. He was too invested to back out now! He pulled a spoon out, carefully digging into the jelly and pulling out a bit of the prune-looking food.

Hesitantly, Dew brought the food to his mouth and closed around it, chewing the strangely mushy texture but humming and tail wagging as the taste still settled nicely. He swallowed and grabbed another spoonful before gagging at the aftertaste, quickling going to the fridge to grab out one of the many apple juice boxes he despised seeing sometimes.

Only to gag again as the mixture being the worst thing to mankind.

Before he knew it, he was in a loop of torturing himself. Taking a bite, then a sip, making a cringed face as he did so—but he truly couldn't seem to stop, until eventually the mixture became tolerable. He walked around with his can and juice box back into the room, placing them on the bedstand as he went to the dresser that held a variety of movies. Dewdrop had to crouch to get to his section, carefully reading over each sleeve.

"My Bloody Valentine" simply called his name, pulling out the sleeve and purring loudly as he admired the back.

Dew skipped to his bed, grabbing the phone to send to a group chat with two of his older mates, purrs never seeming to cease as he sent a photo of the cover.

"Mounty, you still need to dress up as him for me one day."

It took a few minutes before only Mountain seen the message, adding a heart to both the photo and add-on.

"Eventually. Are we reenacting Irene's death?"

"You turn me on so easily. Fuck yeah we are! Get a pickaxe, I'm sure we have a random ass miners helmet somewhere in this fuck ass abbey."

A simple heart was added to the message again, Mountain sending a smiling face before going quiet once more. Dewdrop went back over to place the film on the TV stand next to the DVD player, opening his closet and to the back of the hangers where a small assortment of 'outfits' stayed in nice condition. He pushed past a maid outfit, a simple bikini, then a few larger outfits such as a 'mad doctor', 'Jason Voorhees', and even a full black outfit with a ski mask tucked in the pocket. He eyed the 'Michael Myers' all the way in the back before tugging at the jumpsuit, admiring the sides and pulling it out to be a part of Mountain's eventual costume.

He quickly became occupied as he picked up his cranberry can and juice to sit on the floor in front of their toy box, shuffling through different varieties of bdsm gear. Dewdrop trilled as he pulled out his black leather cuffs customized only for his wrists, tossing it in his pile for the future remake.

His phone chimed about thirty minutes in as Dewdrop came back from Mountain's room holding one of his compression turtle necks. He unlocked and smiled at Aether's message.

"Who's playing the bastard trucker? Not it."

Dew sent back a quick text, "No one. Maybe two killers tackling a little ole' me, yeah?"

"Scandalous!"

"Speaking of scandalous..."

Dewdrop brought his camera up again to show his little collection growing, Mountain and Aether seeing it at the same time.

"Damn! I knew I should've gotten my own jumpsuit!" Aether sent back, adding a smirking face.

Mountain, again, simply hearted the image.

The group chat went quiet and Dew went back to occupying himself, now with a newfound excitement. He took another bite of his terrible food and a sip of the equally terrible drink, scrunching his nose as he kept walking back and forth from Mountain's room with more items.

More than two hours passed before Dewdrop finally noticed the lack of the earth ghoul, walking back to see he missed a message of Mountain doing a few more tasks before retiring to the den. Dew shrugged and went to begin the assortment of snacks for the night, placing them all neatly on a tray with a few sodas and tea bags. He'd have to put the kettle on closer to movie time, getting the popcorn started while taking the tray in their shared room.

The sound of the door opening made Dew peek behind the corner, smiling wide and jumping with excitement as he looked at his two mates walking in—carrying a few suspiciously looking items. More importantly, two gas masks and another jumpsuit.

Aether smiled, holding up the goodies. "Look what was in the catacombs storage! Not exactly respirators, but close enough! Oh, oh! And I got some gloves from the infirmary!"

Dewdrop squealed, running over and noticing as Mountain lifted a bag out of reach but crouching down to join the hug. "Ugh! I missed you assholes!"

"Missed you too, rosemary." Mountain hummed, kissing Dew's cheek. "Look what I found in the shed."

He opened the bag to show two relatively new garden hoes. "Not exactly pickaxes, but close enough, yeah?"

"Mountain I'm about to jump on you." Dew's eyes lit up, his tail unable to stop wagging and smile wide.

"Hmm, can do that in a bit. That popcorn smells fucking good," Aether leaned for his own kiss, heading towards the room. "Gonna take my shower!"

"Me as well, I'm pretty sure I have cactus needles in my knee." The earth shrugged, giving one more kiss before he sauntered off.

The fire ghoul melted at the sight of his mates, let alone the fact they went into the effort to find little items to fulfill his fantasy. He shivered at the thought of them masked and standing above him, putting a pep back in Dewdrop's step as he went to finish the popcorn.

[alpydk]

Desperate (RuganxReader)

He has a choke hold on me right now - So here is some hastily written smut (1300 words or so of it...)as a break from all the angst I've made recently - I will say although this is awesome, as all fanfic is, smut is not my go-to writing choice. But I needed this, desperate for it, you might say.

For a few weeks, you’ve been travelling with your party along the Sword Coast in search of a healer for your tadpole problem. A few weeks of dirt, blood, cold washes in the river and hands kept to yourself. As much as you hate to admit it in such low-class terms; you’re horny, desperate to ride someone, but unfortunately picky with your tastes. 

The vampire, Astarion had appeared the obvious choice with his flirty remarks and pristine good looks, but he wasn’t your type. Too pretty, not to mention he couldn’t handle the banter you gave back at him. Typical elf you thought to yourself. Then there was sweet Gale, a good age, good-looking but too much of a romantic, a bit too good for your liking. You ask yourself; why have red wine when there is ale on tap? Gale was more the type to lovingly caress your inner thigh and build up to some gentle foreplay for an age rather than just fuck you like an animal against the wall, the floor, or anywhere you really wanted so he was out of the running. And then there were the others; Wyll was too young, Shadowheart too distant, Karlach on fire. Lae’zel… just no. Desperate but picky…

***

Fucking gnolls and their stupid giggling. Great, now you’ve got blood on you again and the whole area is up in flames. Who in the hells was the genius to start throwing alchemist's fire? Well, at least the beasts have been taken care of. You’ve expected nothing but corpses, empty crates, and maybe the odd trip wire; Rugan is not what you’re expecting to come across. Slightly taller than you, older, weathered from a few too many fights, and most likely a few too many stiff drinks as well; and shit, when he speaks you feel that desperate hunger come back to you full force. You would happily be fucked by him against the wall, the floor, the back of this bloody cave if left alone with him. 

Ah, a Zhentarim. Typical. You’d had run-ins with them back in the city. The word around was that they were trying to take over The Guild; a few gold misplaced and a skirmish or two down by the docks, but it wasn’t your place to get involved. Leave that to Nine-Fingers to deal with. Your job was to simply keep the books in order at the keep, whilst playing both sides to keep your lifestyle comfortable, of course. Well, maybe now this could play to your advantage as well; make a little gold and if you meet up with him again then you could see what would happen. At least now you have something to think of during those lonely nights of tent life. 

You’ve always been one for voices as stupid as the concept sounds and his sticks with you. …Tighter than a Duke’s purse strings… You bite the inside of your lip thinking of other things usually construed as tight. When did your mind become so crude? Why did everyone else have to be here right now? Why can’t you just push him against that wall and have your way with him? You see him looking at you as Gale speaks; maybe he’s thinking the same thing, or maybe he’s recognised you from the keep. What does it all matter though? Desperate…

***

You both plan to make some gold selling the chest he’s transporting. You figure, what harm could it do? You find out soon after though exactly what harm; with the death of the poor lad that was with him, the death of the Zhents that had him tied and beaten to a chair, and an awakening to something you’ve never really thought about before. You beautiful bastard. Gods, what you’d give to keep him tied to that chair, to suck his cock knowing his arms are bound behind him and there’s nothing he can do but let out deep moans from your touch. That fantasy will keep you going for a few nights, that's for sure, and then maybe if you’re lucky that drink he’s promised you could turn into more, a desperate touch-starved reality.  

***

Baldur’s Gate. It’s been a long time having to make do with the odd night with Astarion, with some drow, with your own thoughts to keep you going, but you know you’ll soon be at the Elfsong Tavern and can get that sweet release you’ve been craving. Yeah, the tadpole is still slithering away in your mind, yeah there are all the other problems, like saving the world and a stone lord that had suddenly become your issue to deal with, but none of it matters in comparison to what, who you’ve been craving. Rugan…

He stands at the bar, a pint in hand. Finally, someone with a real taste in alcohol. He recognises you even out of the armour, hopefully out of the clothes later too. Things have gone to shit for him since the day in the caves, but he doesn’t want to talk about it much and you’re grateful after carrying the emotional baggage of your travelling companions. You watch as he downs the last bit of his drink before placing his hand on your thigh. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you for your reaction. You can already feel the warmth in your face, and you want to say it’s the drink but you both know that’s a complete lie. 

You can’t tell who booked the room or even how you’ve both reached this point as you push through a door, hands already exploring one another’s bodies, tongues entwined in a frantic effort to make up for lost time. The door is kicked shut to keep your hands placed on his body and as you make your way to what you hope is the bed, you both leave behind a trail of clothing, a light cotton shirt and leather trousers with ridiculous ties. On any other day, you might tease, pulling at them with your teeth but that will not happen tonight. Tonight, you want him, you need him inside you. 

Desperate longing leads to desperate touches. Your hand is wrapped around his shaft, though it takes little to wind him up. His grabs are as eager as yours as you feel him wrap a strong arm around your leg pulling you in closer, onto him. Did you even make it to the bed? You don’t seem to care as you feel him thrust inside you, deeper than you expected after seeing how tight his trousers were, a pleasant yet welcome surprise. Shit, it’s been so long and you wanted to draw this night out, to have it build up to some enchanted moment and see fireworks but right now, you are in that cave, you are on that floor, you are up against that wall, and you are being given what you have hungered after for so long. By the gods, he is everything and more than you could possibly have ever wanted. 

You hear his breath grow heavy against your neck as he jolts into you mercilessly. You grip him feeling your heart racing and your muscles tightening, wanting to give him everything, wanting this night to last forever but you know it won’t be much longer for either of you. You feel your release building and you try to hold it off, try to think of anything else but the throbbing inside of you and just as you think you’ve regained some control you hear his growled whisper in your ear; Your name spoken from those thirsting lips.   

***

The next morning you wake up alone amongst the creased sheets of the bed you’d both shared. The trail of your clothing leads to what appears to be a sofa and you smile to yourself now knowing the full story of the night. You’ve no idea where he’s gone or even if you’ll see him again but right now you don’t care as your head rests on the pillow and the events of last night flood your brain. That beautiful bastard, Rugan, once again leaving you desperate…

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Part 5 of the Steddie Vegas AU!! So sorry it's a week late

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4

Steve had just finished packing up the backpack with everything they'd need for a trip to the desert when the phone rang. At first, he assumed it'd be Robin getting antsy about how late it was getting (not that it was late at all) so he just answers with a snarky "What?"

It isn't until he hears his mother's haughty huff that all the colour drains out of his face. 

"Steven, that is no way to answer the telephone! We raised you better than that," he can hear the disappointment dripping from her tone, but all he can think is, you didn't raise me at all!

"Mother. My apologies, I assumed you were Bobbie," he responds flatly.

"Oh, so that's his name," she snarked. Huh? Oh, for fuck's sake!

"No," Steve's quick to respond, trying to keep a hold of his temper, "I meant Robin, you know, my best friend!" His mother really should know that, but unsurprisingly Steve's life isn't important to her unless it's affecting her social standing, "Eddie is my husband, was that not clarified in the announcement?" he sniped, trying and failing to keep the bite out of it.

His mother sighed heavily, "You know I don't touch newspapers, darling," she drawled, "The ink stains my nails," she adds disdainfully. He can practically see her dusting the imaginary particles from her fingertips; she never was one to touch anything dirty. "We only heard because Sam mentioned it. Apparently our son doesn't bother to update us on his poor life choices any more," she bemoaned, with a quick succession of tuts for good measure. Sam was their lawyer, best friend, golf buddy, fuck buddy, probably, Steve didn't know, and he didn't want to.

The only poor choice I've made was answering this call!

Steve bit his tongue, holding in the lecture he wanted to unleash, like he always did, "Okay, well I have to go, I'm running late," he lied, "I'll come and see you both when I get home," he assured, even though they both knew he wouldn't.

"Okay, darling, call Sam, he'll finish the paperwork," she insisted, hanging up on him without waiting for a response.

Call Sam! Fuck you!

Resisting the urge to throw the phone at the wall, he kicked the bed with the side of his foot instead, growling in frustration. Part of him wanted them to leave him alone for good, part of him just wanted them to care, and the rest of him wanted him to stop caring what they thought. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes and counting to ten in his mind, this was Robin’s day, he could deal with his parental complications later. He flung the backpack over his shoulder, hooking the dressing gown over his arm and checked his hair in the mirror as he left the room, trying to leave the conversation and the frustration behind him. 

But it didn’t work, he could still feel the anger deep in his bones that meant he couldn't help stomping up the staircase. He hated how she always managed to rile him up, but what he hated most was how he let her. Normally, one of her phone calls would come with a two-day sulk, hiding in his room and moping in bed like a sullen teenager. Normally he could call for Robin through the wall, and she’d come and lay with him, rest her head on his chest while he ranted, but he couldn't do that right now, but that didn’t stop him needing her. And honestly, he felt like he kinda needed Eddie too. He wanted his arms around his waist and his hair tickling his face, and he wanted to go back to the contented peace he'd felt earlier watching Eddie and Robin talk.

Finally making it back upstairs, he knocked on the suite door, Chrissy let him in with a welcoming smile before wandering off into her bedroom. A quick glance was all it took for him to realise that the girls were waiting for him alone, he wandered further into the room putting the dressing gown down on the back of the sofa as Robin came out of Chrissy's room, handing him his wallet that he'd left in his jeans on Eddie's floor.

"What's up?" she asked, barely even glancing at him before wrapping her arms tightly around him, pressing her cheek firmly against his chest.

"She called back," Steve muttered, tucking his chin over the top of her head, pulling her closer.

"Must've got around the club," Robin reasoned, tightening her grip, rubbing his back soothingly. 

Steve adored her so much. He didn’t know how she had the patience with him because she never said anything. No matter how many times he let them do this to him, she was always just there for him, and the thing was he knew if the roles were reversed he wouldn’t be able to hold his tongue. He knew he’d be telling her to stop speaking to them, to stop letting them get to her because they both believed in cutting toxic people out, but she’d been the same way about Billy. She had obviously hated him, but she’d never said a bad word against him, never told Steve to leave him, she had always just sat and listened. She had always been his rock.

He just hummed in response, he didn't really want to think about it any more, they'd ruined enough of his holiday already. He kissed her on the top of her head, squeezing her once before releasing her.

Robin placed her hands on his cheeks, smiling affectionately as she squished his face, making him chuckle, before letting go with a gentle pat; circling him to rummage around in the backpack for her sunglasses that she'd left behind on the desk in their room. 

Steve glanced around, watching as the girls pottered, "Where's Eddie?"

Robin shrugged, "Downstairs," she muttered, zipping the backpack back up, "He said something about a surprise," she added, aiming for nonchalance and missing by miles, turning on her heel and striding out the front door without another word. 

Chrissy gathered her handbag and sunglasses, following her out and holding the door open, waiting for Steve to join them. He pulled the backpack tighter over his shoulder and pushed off the sofa with an amused huff, following them out and letting the door swing shut behind him. 

He gave Chrissy a warm smile when she linked her arm through his as they wandered down the hall together side-by-side. Robin was already at the end of the corridor waiting for the lift, still pressing the down button when they caught her up. 

A reaction like that from anyone else he would think was weird, but Steve knew Robin too well, he knew that her lack of elaboration just meant that she was in on whatever the surprise was and had been sworn to secrecy. Claudia had organised a surprise birthday party for him once, and Robin's head had nearly exploded. 

When she'd been told about the surprise baby shower for Jenny in the office, she'd told him that she just found it easier to not speak around someone she was keeping something from, just to make sure she didn't blurt out the secret by accident. Except sometimes in life you can't avoid speaking to people, so then she'd have to do that, carefully regulated wording, precise and to the point.

Except what she never seemed to realise was just how stark the contrast was between her ability to witter endlessly and her careful wording and requisite silence. Jenny had been convinced Robin had fallen out with her, the added hormones didn't help, but she'd ended up wailing in the bathroom and Robin had had to spill the secret, so Jenny would stop crying and begging to know what she'd done wrong.

The first time he'd called her out for her silence and one word answers, she’d been her convinced he was a mind reader. They hadn't known each other long, they'd been neighbours for a few months but had only started to become friends when he and Billy were on a slow path to breaking up. She used to check in on him after one of their epic screaming matches, when Billy would throw whatever was closest, punch walls and slam the front door with a "fuck you!" She'd come over with Kleenex, chocolate and ice cream and sit with him on the couch, make him laugh and help him clean up and fix whatever Billy had broken. 

But then about three days after his final breakup with Billy, her great aunt died. Obviously, he'd noticed her unexpected silence when she'd spent the previous two days talking his ear off to keep him distracted. She was shocked when he'd asked what was wrong and wouldn't take “nothing” for an answer. It wasn't that she was upset about the death, she just hadn't wanted Steve fussing over her when he was still feeling “emotionally fragile”.

Normally if she was quiet he'd try to wheedle it out of her, it was easier than dealing with how anxious it made her to keep something to herself, but she didn't seem too agitated and if it lasted more than ten minutes, he'd figured it out, but for now she seemed to be fine. 

Although if he and Eddie decided to continue to see each other in Indy, he decided to just give him a heads-up to not involve her in future secret keeping, lest her head implode.

The elevator was taking a while to arrive, leaving the three of them standing in unnerving silence. Robin continuously anxiously pressing the down button. Even Chrissy was abnormally quiet, she seemed jittery, she'd let go of his arm and was switching between picking her nails and swishing side to side, her skirt swooshing around her legs.

Steve was about to ask what was wrong when the ding of the lift arriving interrupted him, Chrissy letting out a relieved sigh and stomping inside as soon as the doors opened. He gave Robin a what's up with her look, but Robin just shrugged with a look of her own that said, beats me. Robin followed her in, smoothing her outfit and hair in the mirror, pulling lip balm out of her pocket and putting on copious amounts as an excuse to look busy.

The doors slid shut behind Steve. He gave Chris his most reassuring smile, and she smiled back, but he could tell it was false. Her smile always reached her eyes, even when she was exhauster, but this time it just didn't. He was about to ask if everything was alright, he was worried something was really wrong, when she inadvertently interrupted him, bursting out, "Hey Steve!"

Her loudness seemed to surprise them both equally, Steve's eyebrows flying into his hairline. Chrissy just seeming to regret speaking at all, like she wished she could swallow the word back down. He tried his hardest to stay calm, hummed a questioning "hmm?" afraid actual words might spook her. He didn't even care if this was a shovel talk, he just wanted her to know she was in a safe space, that she could talk to him no matter what.

She spent a few seconds looking at him, really looking, like she was trying to see into his soul. He tried his hardest to be patient, tried not to squirm under her scrutiny, tried to stop his heart from beating out of his chest, but he kinda wished she’d just get it over with. She hesitated, let out another deep breath and ploughed ahead, "You do know your hair looks the same?" she murmured tenderly.

What?

That wasn't at all what he'd expected to come out of her mouth at all. Somehow it felt worse than if she'd said "If you hurt my best friend, I'll bury you so deep, not even the worms in the earth would be able to find you!" because it'd hurt like a motherfucker when Max had said that to him (as though he'd been the town heartbreaker) but a jab about his hair wasn't what he'd prepared for.

And okay, it wasn't a jab per se. In fact, it wasn't a jab at all, but it didn't stop it feeling that way. It felt like she'd just slapped him across the face, and he's no idea why it feels that way whenever anyone even mentions his hair. Because he knows that's all it is, it's just hair and in the grand scheme of things it isn't important, but he was The Hair!

It's who he was long before he was a king, long before he was a captain. He was defined by it, it was how his peers showed him respect, and his father had never been so proud of him as when that was who he was. When he was awake two hours before he should’ve been to make sure it looked perfect, that he looked perfect, even though he was secretly wearing his mother's concealer to hide the bags under his eyes.

Robin huffed and rolled her eyes hard, "Oh my god, don't get him started!" she grouched, still not looking at either of them.

The look of hurt on his face must have told Chrissy all she needed to know. Just like the way she huffed and flapped her hands frantically, in the same way El did when she was struggling to express herself, told Steve she wasn't trying to upset him. Not that it stopped him from instinctively combing his fingers protectively through his hair.

Chrissy visibly composed herself, taking a deep breath, putting her hands gently on his shoulders and looking up at him with kind eyes. "I didn't mean anything bad by it. It's just, your hair looked nice this morning, and it still looks nice now," she clarified, except he wasn't any clearer on what she was trying to say.

He knew his hair never looked nice in the morning, that was why he'd spent so many years of his life sleep-deprived, but she seemed insistent and there was no malice or devilry in her eyes, she was imploring him to understand like she could push the thoughts from her mind into his if only she stared hard enough and it might've worked this morning, but his mother calling had scrambled his head, it was like he reverted back to his old self whenever they wormed their way into his life.

She flicked her gaze over to Robin over his shoulder, not that she was paying either of them any attention, but when Chrissy looked back at him, she looked so sad it damn near broke his heart. She sighed heavily, and when her lip wobbled slightly he was worried she was about to cry, "My mom… she used to have me obsess over my appearance, too. So I get it. I'm just saying, y'know?" she muttered.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, Chrissy!

Suddenly what she'd been trying to say made a lot more sense.

My parents cared more about how I looked than about me, too.

Steve sighed deeply, holding her gaze as a shared upbringing, a shared pain, passed between them. When she leaned up wrapping her arms around his neck, he automatically wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, tucking his chin over her shoulder, trying to offer her some comfort, trying to let her know he heard her, that he appreciated what she'd just told him.

He didn't know her well, but she deserved so much more than that, as he squeezed her tighter he felt the overwhelming need to protect her, to put himself between her and the world, to go back in time and put himself between her and her mother, to give her the found family who loved her unconditionally that his teenage self had been lucky enough to find.

"Thanks, Sugar," he mumbled in her ear, kissing the top of her head before letting her go.

Robin, of course, had no idea what they were talking about or the emotional moment they'd just shared. She had great parents, and he was so glad for it, he wouldn't wish his kind of parents on anyone, especially not his best friend. She just stomped off as soon as the doors swung open, disappearing into the lobby and expecting that they'd follow, ranting, "He's always been this way! Guy's looked like a Greek God since I met him. Could be dragged through a hedge backwards and still never need to change a damn thing. Doesn't stop him primping, making us late for everything-"

Steve glanced at the clock above the reception desk as he followed the girls outside, "It's barely 10," he interrupted sullenly, rolling his eyes.

"Irrelevant, my point is- holy fuck!"

Holy fuck, indeed! 

Eddie, hair in a bun, in aviators and shorts! Resting on the bonnet of the most gorgeous car Steve had ever laid his eyes on. Oh my god! He wanted to take a picture to make it into a calendar, just twelve months of casual Eddie and a Cadillac! "Jesus Christ, is that a Cadillac?" Steve asked, needing confirmation of the facts his brain had only just caught up with.

Eddie grinned dazzlingly, whipping his sunglasses off his face, "A yellow-beige, 1984 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz, to be precise," he apprised smugly.

Circling the car, Steve couldn't quite believe his eyes. This was his dream car, he'd had a picture of this exact car on his bedroom wall since forever, he'd removed it from an old calendar he'd been given in his teens. He'd fallen in love with it immediately and kept the picture with him, just in the hope that maybe one day… 

Knowing now why Robin was trying so hard to keep quiet, just endeared him all the more, he pulled her into his side, kissing her on the head. She'd clearly told Eddie all about it, but somehow Eddie had made it materialize. "No way!" Steve muttered in disbelief.

"Yes way!" Eddie exclaimed, pulling the keys from his pocket and letting them dangle in the air, his eyes were so soft even though his smile was slightly smug, like a magician who'd pulled the rabbit out of the hat.

Chrissy groaned, swishing her skirt again anxiously, "Eds, you know I love you, but I don't think I'm comfortable with you being behind the wheel of a convertible," she sounded genuinely concerned, but Eddie was quick to ease her.

He finally got up off the car circling around Chris and Robin, "Don't worry, My Little Dove, I'm like Santa I just used my sources to bring unadulterated joy to our very own Motorhead," he said exuberantly, kissing his best friend loudly on the cheek.

And Steve was listening to Eddie, but he didn't really hear him, so when he suddenly appeared in front of Steve with the keys held aloft between them and said "Stevie's got her! Doncha, Big Boy!" simultaneously dropping the keys into Steve's hand and waggling his eyebrows alluringly, it still didn't really sink in.

Steve looked down at the keys in his hands, "I get to..." he uttered disbelievingly because the thought that he'd get to drive this car was short-circuiting his brain. 

That was before the thought hit him that Eddie had done this for him, for no other reason than to make him happy. People had done things for Steve before, but other than his found family, it'd always been to make up for something. His parents bought him extravagant gifts to make up for missing birthdays and Christmases, Nancy brought him homemade cakes when they fought (that it turned out Holly and Karen had made, and she took credit for) and Billy would bring him flowers whenever he "worked away" (also known as cheating on Steve).

But this beautiful creation, this angel, this miracle of a human being, had teamed up with his best friend to make one of his dreams come true. To make him smile for no other reason than because he wanted to make him happy, and Steve just couldn't quite believe his luck.

And then Eddie, eyes unbelievably soft, said, "All yours, my love," his cheeks pinkening and his eyes immediately going wide as his words had sunk in. And Steve couldn't have that because he would be so lucky to be Eddie's love.

He wasn't sure how sober-Eddie felt about public displays of affection, so he beamed sweetly at him, trying to convey all he was feeling, tenderly cupping his jaw and kissing him firmly on the cheek, letting his affection shine through when he leaned away to smile at him. 

It was Chrissy squealing and jumping up and down, clapping excitedly and Robin's fake gagging that broke them out of their moment, Eddie hiding adorably behind his hand, as he headed around to the passenger side clambering into the car, trying and failing to hide the blush on his cheeks. Steve folded the front seat forward, holding out a hand to help the girls to climb in the back, Chrissy using his outstretched hand for support, squeezing Eddie on the shoulder and asking "Whose car is this anyway?"

"Char's buddy, Todd," Eddie replied, as Robin clambered into the back using Steve's head for balance, ruffling his hair as she landed in the backseat with an impish grin.

Resisting the childish urge to vault over the car door, Steve handed Robin the backpack and readjusted the seat, clambering in after them. A feeling of awe sweeping over him as he saw all the mechanisms up close that he was going to get to touch and use to power the car he spent years dreaming about. "Forget Todd, Steve's her daddy now!" he muttered as he turned the key in the ignition, hearing the car purr to life and the roar of their laughter and feeling like he could explode with happiness. 

He was all but caressing the steering wheel when a car honking behind them reminded him that they needed to get going, not just sit outside the hotel all day. Adjusting the seat and the mirrors, he found he couldn't look directly at Eddie as he adjusted the mirror on his side, he knew if he did that they’d never get anywhere because between the outfit, the bun, the gorgeous smile on his face and the Herculean effort to make his dream come true Steve just couldn't keep his thoughts straight.

He wanted to grab Eddie by the hand and take him back upstairs to show him just how grateful he was for this, he also wanted to take Eddie to the nearest studio to get him started on making his own dreams come true, and he wanted to take Eddie home and move him in and carpool with him and go on road trips just like this one. But this was Robin's day, no matter how much Eddie had managed to make it feel like his day too.

He caught a glimpse of the girls in the backseat, Chrissy now had a scarf wrapped around her hair and her sunglasses perched on her nose, she looked like a movie star. And Robin looked adorable with her hair pulled into a tiny ponytail sticking out of the back of his high school baseball cap. They were both back to their normal selves now, their anxiety seemed to have dissipated completely, both grinning widely, chatting and laughing together as though the last twenty minutes hadn't happened.

Sneaking a cheeky glance at Eddie, he caught him watching the two of them in the wing mirror with such a fond expression, Steve felt like his heart might beat right through his chest; the horn honking again was the only thing that stopped him from leaning across the seat to kiss him senseless.

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

Grinning mischievously, Steve revved the engine playfully, the growl of the engine sounding just how he'd always imagined it would, getting to fully appreciate the way Eddie's attention snapped back to him, as he laughed brightly and rolled his eyes fondly. Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so joyous as he shifted into gear and set off into the mid-morning traffic.

Part 6

Tag list @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @adhdsummer @nerdfighteratheart @anaibis @hbyrde36 @dolphincliffs @marinarasarah @deadflowercollector @lunabookworm @a-couchpotato feel free to lmk if you want removing 💖

[fllagellant]

What if Vernon Roche runs into Ciri (while she is sad and drunk) in a tavern and cheers her up with he stories?

Allow me to be Clear ; this is such a cute prompt I smiled at the notification for like five minutes

He would approach Ciri the same way he would Ves, being as she’ s the closest point of reference when it comes to how he should handle such a situation. When Ves falters, fails, struggles, she gets mad. Mad leads to rage, leads to injury, leads to collapse. Leads to sitting in front of a fire, eyes wet and unfocused.

Vernon tries to stop the spiral when he can, but things happen fast, and one missed opportunity is a guaranteed slip further down.

Ciri is not Ves, but she has the same look in her eyes, staring off at the half-fades mural of the tavern wall. Her hand clenches and unclenches around the handle of her mug of ale the same- tastes like water and run-off, but it’s the cheapest thing they have, and it gets you drunk all the same.

Vernon says an apology to his coin pouch, sweets a higher luxury than metals now, and asks the Innkeep how expensive some of the fruit tarts would be. There’s a scratching, a mumbling, at the back of his thoughts. Ciri- probably- has no food in her belly. Ves does the same.

She forgoes all meal, turning her nose up at meat and potatoes, and settles down with the burning of her stomach.

Vernon slips into the seat beside Ciri, the same way he eases himself down on the sitting log beside Ves. Ciri jumps, a moment too late, muscles tensing and mug clattering agaisnt the wooden table. Vernon holds his breath. To frighten a Witcher is a piss poor idea. To frighten a drunk Witcher? Well, have a grave ready.

But Ciri doesn’t move, doesn’t swing to hit or reach to grab, almost like her joints have he locked in place. She peers; same gaze as her Father. Then, with a voice using a tongue too heavy for her mouth, she mutters a “Hello, Vernon.” And ducks her sights back in front of her.

He lets the plate of tarts sit just in Ciri’s sight line. If she reaches for one, that’s the plan. If she looks at them, that’s the plan. If she sniffs the air, pretending it’s a sniffle that won’t go away,

That’s the plan.

With Ves, Vernon brings her biscuits with honey. He brings her biscuits with honey, and a bit of meat; he knows he favourite is the pieces a bit charred from the heat, and he saves them when he can. She takes a few minutes, not leaning towards but not leaning away, before her poison of choice is carefully discarded. Before she turns, tear tracks caught in the firelight, and rough voiced asks,

“What’s this?”

And Ciri manages a nod towards the small collection of fruit tarts. Steaming, Vernon requested that they be warm, the trails curling up and vanishing in the air. Vernon, one hand, gestures to the plate.

“Something for you.”

Ves takes the plate. She balances it on her knees. She takes a bite.

Ciri pulls the plate closer. She inhales deep. She reaches for one.

“Do you like peaches, Ciri?” Vernon asks. He places a hand on her shoulder, her clothes are cold and a touch damp. It hasn’t rained once today. But there is a little lake a few paces out, encased in thick wood.

Vernon can hear Geralt muttering, about drowners and rot-fiends and how badly they love to make nests where the little ones love to play. Vernon can see the discolouration, mud and lakebed now interwoven into the fabrics of her clothes. Her contract went awry, in some way.

Ciri, fingers careful as they pull the tart in two, nods.

“I like most fruits.” It was plain, just a statement to say anything. Just to get her mouth moving again. Vernon squeezes her shoulder, and she looks to him. She’s cold. Body not helped by the heat of alcohol.

“My mother,” he starts, and he vaguely recalls that this is the first story he ever told Ves, too, “She would grow them. I had them so much as a boy I thought I’d hate them.”

Ciri blinks, once, twice, then she straightens; she gets that from her mother.

When Vernon told Ves the story, he was helping to keep her in bed after she broke her arm. She was young, and scared, and self-determined to the point of danger. When Vernon told Ves the story, she had managed to fall back asleep, body ran ragged and smile faint on her face.

As he tells the same story to Ciri, about picking peaches and trying to hide them, about how he thought he could never stomach them again, about how the first thing he bought for himself, when he had his own coin and he could make his own name for himself, was a peach, he watches Ciri open up.

She places one half of each tart back on the plate, she breaks pieces off her own and eats them slow; she knows how much they’d have cost her pockets. Her shoulders come down, her head turns, inch by inch, to look Vernon more square in the eyes.

Vernon rubs a careful circle with his thumb, pressing just hard enough that Ciri’ll be aware of it. He does the same to Ves. He can feel her skin start to warm, at least, under his hand. He can’t win agaisnt the chill of damn cloth, forced to dry on the wearer, but he can do this.

He has a story for each tart, she’ll finish her first and he’ll already have started the story for the second, for the third.

Like Ves, Ciri stops drinking.

Like Ves, Ciri leans in for a hug.

Like Ves, Ciri smiles- her eyes are still damp, but the crinkle of her grin meets her eyes.

Vernon doesn’t push her, doesn’t ask for what happened or how it all fell apart. He presses his waterskin into her hands and tells her to drink. He asks if she knows where she’ll be staying tonight, if her horse is doing well. He asks her what her plans might be, once morning comes and her hangover wears thin.

She pauses, the question taking a moment longer to sink in, taking a final sip of water before she pulls it away from her lips.

“Maybe I’ll try to find an orchard, somewhere.”

[txemrn]

Déjà Vu

Chapter 1

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Eleanor prepares for a night out with her best friends despite her mother's wishes for her to attend a special family dinner.

Pairing(s): Liam x Riley (in discussion); more to be revealed

Word Count: ~2740

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 this chapter references drinking; brief language

A/N: Welcome to my Crack Fic! No one asked for this... at least no one of sound mind, and if you're a big fan of TRR, you might actually hate this (no, I'm not killing Liam!). When I pitched this idea (half-joking, half-serious) to some buddies after reading the book Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas, the eager encouragement I normally receive was met with (what's that TikTok trend with that T Swift song?) "horrified looks from everyone in the room". But... I could not get this idea out of my head. So, here we are! I have a general idea of where this story is going... but I'm actually leaving myself open to possibilities. No matter how the road twists and turns, I would be honored if you join me!

A/N 2: This story takes place approximately 2 decades after TRR/TRH. I have made some canonical changes (they will be mentioned). Characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry! Huge thank you to @charlotteg234 for looking over this for me (and laughing like a maniac with me)! This was not Beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Eleanor

Tapping my newly manicured nails against the glass topper to my vanity, my gaze nervously shifts back and forth between my choices for the evening. I don’t know why this is so hard–or why it’s taking me this long to decide–but somehow, here I am in quite the conundrum.

Perversion or Temptress: that’s it. But, when it came to darkening the outer-corner of my eyelid, picking the right hue of eyeshadow matters. Yes, yes, they’re both a deep black; one is a dark matte that has the potential to smudge all over my porcelain face, but the other one, while dark, has little flecks of silver.

Biting my lip, I look at myself in the mirror before looking back at the YouTube tutorial I was following.  I feel silly making such a big deal over the color; afterall, this is supposed to be fun. Normally, for me, it is.  I’m actually really good at doing my own make-up, thanks to the internet and to my mother who convinced my father when I was fourteen that mascara and lipstick would not lead me down the path of destruction and eternal damnation.

Well, I guess I should clarify: I do a great job on my make-up, my everyday natural, diplomatically poised look. Think lots of pinks and taupes. It’s the latest trend for crown princesses; I should know.

But tonight, I wouldn’t be Princess Eleanor. I didn’t want to be Princess Eleanor. 

Dangit, that came out wrong. I don’t mean to sound like some stereotypical spoiled brat that is born into money and power, who craves freedom from her poor little privileged life.  I am content–actually, very grateful for the life I have been born into. I have been given incredible opportunities and experiences because of it. But, I’m not naive; I know I have a high-calling, one filled with much responsibility and dedication. Someday I will be queen of Cordonia.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves... 

Tonight, I’m just Nora–at least that’s what my friends call me, and since I’m turning twenty this coming Tuesday, they wanted to take me out over the weekend. This weekend. See? Responsible. But, there is just one problem…

There’s a sudden knock on my door, my mother instantly inviting herself in.  “Dinner’s in thirty Eleanor–”  she freezes as her eyes grow wide. “Y–you’re make-up… don’t you think it’s a bit on the, um… heavy-side?”

“Mom,” I singsong, "it's supposed to be. This is how all the celebrities and models wear their make-up when they hit the town." 

"Hit the town?" My mother gave me that eyebrow, the one that gives away her true unspoken feelings. "You're going out tonight?"

"Mhmm. To dinner." I settle on Urban Decay's Perversion, and start tapping the color against my eyelid. "I told you and Daddy that Josie and Beth were taking me out–"

"Eleanor," my mom shot her first warning signal with her tone. "We discussed that tonight wasn't a good night. And if you ladies could do things tomorrow–"

"It's just a family dinner," I continue to work on my look. "Daddy said it was fine–"

"But you know how important this dinner is. We have a special guest."

Yes, yes. We know.

His name is Drake Walker, and he is–well, was, my parent's best friend back in the day before I was born. He actually grew up with my dad, Drake's father serving as my Grandpa Rys's royal guard when he was king of Cordonia.

But, then there was a falling out of some sort…well, that's according to my Uncle Leo. He means well, but I'm fairly certain the truth has been stretched.

Anyway, I'm not too clear on what happened, but shortly after my parents got married, Drake moved back to his home in America to start a normal life. He never settled down with a wife, but he kept busy with his construction company.

That is until four months ago when he discovered his business partner had been siphoning company funds into off-shore accounts. Now he spends his days laid up on the couch with a fifth of whiskey. And broke as a joke.

Drake's brother-in-law Bertrand Beaumont, the Duke of Ramsford, serves on the royal council with my parents, and after a late meeting one night, he shared the truth about their former best friend. 

Daddy and his bleeding heart… sure, he can see fiery red from time to time and his temper can bubble over, but my father is known for his grace, forgiveness, and charity towards others. He contacted his old friend… which then led to an invitation back to Cordonia.

'It's only for a little while, until he gets back on his feet,' Daddy assured my mom.  'We'll give him tasks around the palace until then.'

Mom called it a 'midlife crisis'. I don't think I was supposed to hear the latter part.

I began to draw on my eyeliner as my mother crossed her arms, glowering at me. Feeling the disappointment radiate from her glare, I stop, shrugging my shoulders. "What?"

"Part of being royal is posing as a unified front as a family."

"You act like this is some official business or a press event–"

"Our closest friends are going to be here, Elle, and–" she stops, her eyes playfully smoldering as her voice becomes angelically romantic. "--I think even Bartie is coming." 

"Mom!" I chuckle, my cheeks pinking in embarrassment from her inflection. "It's not like that with him."

Oh, but it was…

Bartie Beaumont is one of my closest friends. He's a few years older than me and well… I really enjoy spending time with him.  He's incredibly kind and charming in and out of social situations. He's quite handsome with his dark, well-kept hair and deep chestnut eyes. And smart–goodness, he's smart. He can keep up with my father, round-for-round in debating politics and foreign policies.

He's always been fiercely protective of me, even when I was a little girl. But he was always just Bartie, my honorary older brother… that is until he asked me to dance at a charity gala when I was sixteen. I had never been asked to dance by a boy before; I was normally paired with other noble children, usually from the suggestion made by their mothers. But this? It was different… and special. Someone chose to dance with me because they wanted to. And until that moment, I never understood what it meant to let a partner 'lead you', and well… I digress. It was nice. Bartie… he's just nice.

"But seriously, Mom," I continue, "the girls have already set everything up for tonight, and I'm the guest of honor for that. I can't just stand them up."

My mom gives me a long sigh. She's having that internal argument with herself where she compares her younger years as a commoner versus her younger years as a royal. "I guess I was hoping you'd get to meet your Uncle Drake tonight–"

I couldn't control my giggles. Growing up, Mom and Dad always referred to their close friends as 'Aunt' or 'Uncle', like my Uncle Max and Aunt Livvy. But they were also active members in my life that I saw frequently. 'Uncle Drake'? I don't even know the guy. 

"Isn't he living on our couch for a while? I'm sure I'll meet him at breakfast sometime." 

My mom pursed her lips. I think she realizes she has no other reasons to keep me home. Thank goodness.

"Is Lars going with you, or is one of the other guards?"

"Mom," I whine.

"Eleanor, you know the rules–"

"But I just want to be a normal twenty-year-old for the night–"

"Almost twenty-year-old," she smirks, stepping forward to fidget with my wavy, honey-brunette hair. "It's just not safe, baby. People know who you are–good people… and bad people. Even under all of this make-up, people will still recognize you."

I give a little huff, but she was right. I once dyed my hair purple and wore thick-rimmed frames to a show for a local punk band, and I'm pretty sure I posed for more photos with fans than the musicians.

"Fine, I'll ask Lars," I give my mother a half smile. "Anything else, your majesty?"

"One more thing," she twirls me around to face my reflection in the mirror. I'm keeping it pretty casual tonight with a white shirt and black ripped skinny jeans. I am pairing my black moto jacket with some gold accessories and my red Jimmy Choo pumps. Surely the woman doesn't think I'm showing off too much skin. 

Suddenly, she raises my shirt in the back and unclips my white bra.

"Mom!" 

"Eleanor," she snickers, shaking her head at me. "We've been over and over this ever since you got boobs: white shirt, nude undergarments."

I whip off my bra, quickly grabbing a skin-tone t-shirt bra. "No one's going to be looking."

"Someone is always looking." 

After hooking my bra and smoothing out my tee, Mom gave me an approving nod. And then she put her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. "Have a good time tonight. I love you, my twenty-year-old baby."

"Almost twenty-year-old baby." We both fall into titters as we squeeze each other closer. "I love you too, Mommy."

------

I text my bodyguard Lars to let him know about the evening, and as expected, he'll be ready with the car in ten minutes. 

Poor guy was ball-and-chained to me when I got my driver's license. I'm sure when he signed up for the guard, he pictured himself traveling around the world, looking like a badass with my dad. Instead, he got me, and the only traveling he normally does is to gather my morning espresso and cronut. He's made more trips to Sephora than any man should ever make in his lifetime–even more than my Uncle Max.

He's a good guy… if you like the serious, never-crack-a-smile type. He looks like John Cena with a permanent angry expression, complete with a single bulging vein in the center of his forehead. He's a man of few words despite my attempts to make him laugh, but underneath all the brawn and muscle, he has a big heart. He has literally given me his coat so that I wouldn't have to walk through a puddle of half-melted snow. And to think, he has sworn to give so much more for my own life… 

My phone abruptly pings. Beth.

>>> "Hey, bday bish! R U ready for the nite of ur life?"

I chuckle under my breath after reading the text. Night of my life… She always has a flare for the dramatics, but then again Beth has always been the life of the party. She has more personality in her pinkie finger than all of the citizens of Cordonia combined. Her mother is the Countess of Fydelia, and ever since Beth's father left, she's been indisposed.  Mom says that's a more tactful way of saying, 'alcoholic'. 

Beth walks more on the wild side, a real risk-taker. When I get in trouble, chances are she is somehow involved, like the time I got caught with a bottle of Smirnoff Ice at the Baron's Ball. Ugh, talk about the hangover from hell… and that wasn't even my punishment…

But she, along with Josie, are my ride-or-die. My BFFs. My "You jump, I jump, right?". We've grown up together, became women together, and nothing was about to ruin that bond.

I fire a text back to Beth. 

>>> "Can't wait! My car will be ready in a few. What restaurant are we meeting at?"

My phone instantly dings, catching me off guard in my attempts to glide on some lipstick. That was fast. I tap on the message.

>>> "We're coming 4 u! Be ready!"

My face falls. I know it's probably hard to believe, but my friends often forget that I'm a princess. Like, the legit crown princess of Cordonia, and because of that, I need a bodyguard present during all activities outside of the palace that have not otherwise been secured by the royal guard. As you can imagine, that rule made me so popular in grade school when my parents tried giving me a 'normal life'.

In retrospect, I'm quite grateful for the security through the years, especially when I hear about plots made by secret coups against my dad. But still, it would be nice to get my own darn breakfast. And I'm sure Lars would love to sleep in for once.

I text back.

>>> "And Lars"

>>> "R U kidding me? Ur shadow has 2 come?"

I let out a defeated exhale.  She knows this. My phone suddenly rings, her picture lighting up the screen. "Hey–"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She sounds irritated, as if I did this maliciously to her.

"Beth, you know my parents won't allow me out without him or any other–"

"He can't come with us," she interrupts. I can hear Josie in the back, trying to calm Beth down. 

"And do tell–" I cross an arm over my chest, raising an eyebrow, "--why is that?"

She lets out a huge sigh. "Fine. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but–" she hesitates, sucking on her front teeth.  "I got us three VIP passes into Core!"

I blink a few times, racking my brain for this to somehow trip a memory. "Core?" Nope. No tripping. "What's Core?"

"Nora!" She scoffs in disbelief. "It's only the newest and hottest club in town. Tonight is opening night. Half price shots–"

"Uh, Beth–?" I could feel my stomach sinking under the weight of her excitement. And Josie wasn't any better, squealing over the line. 

A club? Like, with dancing and drinking? I had never been to one before. And something tells me that the king wouldn't be too approving of his nineteen-year-old daughter partying with half-drunk strangers, groping her in the name of dancing. Still, it sounds like so much fun.

"--and we have a VIP table with bottle service until midnight!"

"Beth!" I call out to get her attention again. "There… there's just no way I can do that. Especially without Lars."

"C'mon, Nora. It's your freaking birthday. You're supposed to let loose–"

I hang my head into my hands. "You know I want to, but… I–I can't do that. My parents–"

"--don't have to know."

That silenced me real quickly into deep thought. I might not be the world's most perfect child, but I have learned never to hide things from Liam and Riley Rys. Never. 

But I'd be lying if a glimmer of hope and excitement didn't blossom in my chest at the thought of going out despite my parent's knowledge. Besides, I am an adult; I'm almost twenty for crying out loud. If anything, I've shown them how responsible I am, and that I can be trusted. Plus, Aunt Livvy has taught me more than enough self-defense maneuvers that I could probably take a second job as a spy with her wife.

Okay. Maybe Beth has a plan.

"And how won't they find out? Lars has to give a detailed report–"

"We won't bring him."

That's the plan? I snicker under my breath, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "And… how do you suggest I get rid of him?"

"Why not a sleepover?" I hear Josie suggest in the background.

A sleepover. That could work. There were few places I could go where security didn't have to be right beside me once a building was given the all clear. Beth's house happened to be one of them. 

"But I'm already dressed up. And–and I told my mom we were going out–"

"So?" Beth interjects. "We changed our minds. We'll have dinner catered."

Crap. Am I really considering this? I look at my reflection in the mirror as I twist my lips. Dangit. And I'm having a really good hair day.

"What's it gonna be, Nora?"

I take a few cleansing breaths. I can feel my pulse, galloping like a racehorse in my ears. Could I actually get away with this? I've been to Beth's house thousands of times. The guard comes in, does a quick sweep, and then keeps watch outside, never to return until it's time for me to leave. We could sneak out the back through the guest house. He would never know.

I swallow thickly, adrenaline pouring into my veins.

"Okay. Let me make a call."

~🖤~

Tags (Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed)

PERMA

@alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL TRR

@3pawandme @alyshak92 @iaminlovewithtrr @lovingchoices14 @malblk21 @rubiwalker @sfb123 @twinkleallnight

------

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

[strawberrickyyy]

Shen Ricky || Over Me (Vampire AU)

an: Sorry in advance for grammatical errors, etc. my english is poor :(( i also wrote this solely to feed my inner kink lol

tw: blood, light smut - NSFW content

.

.

.

proceed to read at your own risk,,,

Silky red ribbon tied your hair neatly, you wore a plain black dress decorated with red roses on the skirt. You were staring at the moon by the window of the library. Pale skin and hazel eyes, he suddenly hugged you from behind, smelling your scent. You turned to him and he pulled you closer by your waist. He smiled as he caressed your rosy cheek before he leaned forward to peck on your red lips. You were excitedly having his soft plump pink lips which the kiss gradually turned passionate and a sharp pain flinched you when he bit your lower lip bleeding lightly.

 

“My apologies, ma’am...” A guilt shown on his face. He helplessly thirsty and needed to be feed after his long day on a boring journey with the king. He hated politics but he got no choice when he was the first born and the heir of the throne. As his fiancée, you understand him a lot that he won’t be feeding from someone else’s blood other than you and his royal family. Although he used to drink from any aristocrat but since after he has bonded by blood with you, he was somewhat drawn to you affectionately. Some call it a soulmate thing because mostly vampire attached to his partner by tasting her blood for the first time and immediately addicted to the only person.

 

“It’s alright, come here.” You held his face and kissed him. He pushed you against the wall as you wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He moaned while actually sucking the blood on your lips. Unsatisfied, he ghosted your lips to bite on your neck a bit roughly. You breathed heavily out of nervousness at him rushing to drink from your neck. He then slowly stopped after holding himself back. Your wound healed right after he licked it and he kissed you longingly before he finally freed you.

 

You both looked at each other in silence before you broke the silence by asking how he was doing.

“It must be hard for you to always listen to the king. But I want you to know that you did great already so keep it up.” You smiled reassuringly at him but he sighed and took your hand to walk together towards the study desk. He lifted you up to let you sit on the table.

 

“I’m exhausted... I feel burdened by the fact everyone expects so much from me. And father scolded me because I wasn’t pay attention at today’s lessons.” He pouted.

 

“Pity you but why weren’t you paying attention to your studies? Of course His Highness was disappointed and he scolded you for your own good.”

 

“Oh wow. Now you are talking exactly like what mother said to me last evening. Out of everyone, you’re the only one I feel comfortable talking to honestly. I thought you could understand me... But now you don’t.” He tried to walk away before you pulled his hand to stop him. Your thumb caressed his knuckles.

 

“Did I just hurt your feelings? Aww my fault, I sincerely apologize.” You softly patted his head.

 

“If you want me to forgive you, you need to do me a favour.” He abruptly moved closer to you. Inches from one another, he teased you when he was about to peck your lips but he didn’t instead he nuzzled to your neck as his breathing tingled against your skin.

 

“When I was whining, even though I was being noisy and annoying..” He paused to lean backward and grabbed your chin.

 

“You aren’t allowed to talk back, complain or giving me words like advice. I hate that. Unless when I asked you.” His eyes coldly stared into your eyes. “You know, darling. You’re so sweet, beautiful and the most smartest girl...” His slender fingers stroked your face and your hair.

 

“I also hate the fact that the person I love the most went out with another guy without my permission. I know you were with Matthew last morning. You told me about visiting the bakery but didn’t say with whom, I thought you were going with your brother. It bothers me so much, honey. Are you aware of my possession over you? Do I need to remind you again that you’re mine? Yes, I absolutely should do it.”

“Ricky, I- “

“No, who said you can talk?” He choked you. “You’re my fiancée, my bride, my wife-to-be and the future queen of our kingdom. You are mine and mine only foremost!” He tightened his grip around your neck as he smirked and amused to see your pathetic expression. You were in pain and almost losing your consciousness, he then kissed you to share his breath in which you caught a quick breath while doing so.

 

“... I was... Thinking about you.” He pinned you down, his voice became raspy as you both panted and looked at each other.  “I can’t focus on study.. Because I keep thinking about you. For real, nonstop.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Ricky... I didn’t mean to hurt you.. I supposedly went out with Giselle but.. She suddenly got an urgent call...”

 

He stole another kiss before he spoke. “Yeah.. I actually knew that. But when I heard that you were with someone else, specifically a guy. It drives me mad. I feel like I wasn’t enough for you. Am I the only one who is very fond of you? I love you so much, it is so insane, honey...”

 

“Ricky... I’m so sorry..”

 

“Stop apologizing! It seems like you have no feelings for me. It breaks me each time I hear that, you know?” He punched on the table and his hand shaking as he was in angry state. His breath was also hitched before he closed his eyes and breathed deeply to control himself.

 

You were silent. Intuitively nervous and sad. Slowly you sat comfortably as your hand reached to his face and caressed him.

“If I don’t love you.. I already call off our engagement a long time ago, my prince.”

 

“But you acted like you don’t care.. I felt so lonely in our relationship. Despite you are here, I feel that you are far from my grasp. Are you not happy with me?” His expression saddened.

 

“Ricky.. Being with you is one of my happiness.. But.. Have you ever put yourself in my shoes? You think I can be happy just like that?” You meant the torment you faced each day and the burden of standing by his side. It wasn’t easy for you to be a special person as important as the whole kingdom.

 

“You were overthinking, honey! All you need to care is about our love and relationship, can you understand that? Just enough if you admit and be honest with your feeling.”

 

“I am thinking about our relationship, my prince. It’s you who don’t understand..”

 

“Me? When you’re the one who are so hard on yourself? How so?” He was frustrated and tried his best to hold himself from being mad again. He was far too disappointed with the misunderstanding between you two. He closed his eyes, silent in deep thinking.

 

“I’m such a fool that I adore and intensely loving you, right? I can’t live without you, can’t imagine another day without you... I can’t handle it. Way more worse that I can’t stop thinking, I keep dreaming of you. Whether you are with me or far away.. I can’t hold myself from wanting you. It is extremely hard, the more I control myself, the more I need you..”

 

You frowned in concern. “Were you thirsty or drained too much?”

 

“Huh?” He was bewildered by your question. He was literally confessing his feelings to you and not at all expected you to think that he was only thirsty for you just because his energy drained from his daily fatigue.

 

“Let me rephrase... I wonder if you love me because of I’m your most tasty blood supply. But you clarified you love me because you need me, right? It can be subjective that you maybe actually just deeply drawn to my blood. Or probably you wanted me more than that. You felt something greatly like the urge to have me.”

 

“O oh, yeah.. Ugh darling, remember last time I invaded into your room because I can’t sleep?”

 

“Yes, you said you were.. Oh! I get it!” You gasped in excitement.

 

“Huh? What did you get?” He was confused once again, but more to he doesn’t want you to get the wrong and more complicated idea.

“Direct question. Prince Ricky, do you have a strong desire to get close to me lately? Maybe a dream of um.. we were making out?”

 

“D- do you have it too?” He blushed.

 

“Well, yeah. I did... I think that was because of.. The heat season? You know like mating?” You were also blushing to admit it.

 

“Yes, basically since we are mates... To be honest I don’t understand what I feel at first but now yea..” He sighed in relief. “So can I...” He paused as his eyes captivated you. “.. do you now?”

 

“I- I don’t think we can...” You shook your head as you understand his intention. “Because we aren’t married yet.” Nervousness spread inside you.

 

“We are betrothed for five years, darling. Don’t tell me you are afraid...?”

 

“Yes, I am. I’m not ready, Ricky...”

 

“Okay, I understand. I promise you I will not force you into such heavy stuff until you’re ready. So for this time... Can we do like a small make out? Please...” He was too desperate. He can't longer hold himself after almost two weeks he has had a lust over your body and couldn’t get it. It drives him crazy. He thought he was too obsessed with your blood that he can’t concentrate on his daily life even after he drank from his family member, but now he knew that he wanted you so much. Romantically and affectionately towards you, he is infatuated with your well-being.

 

“My love... I know you need me as well, don’t you?” He caressed your cheek after seeing your hesitation. His thumb slowly rubbed your lips before it slightly opened your mouth for you to grab his hand and bit his finger to feed from him. He smiled looking at you slowly sipping his blood. You then grabbed his shirt to pull him closer to you and nibbled on his collarbone. Your fang sunk into his skin and you slurping the blood just like you were drinking water.

 

Shen Quanrui is the royalty pureblood while you were just aristocrat vampire. Aristocrats were pureblood mostly but you were always insecure. You felt like you belonged to commoner and don’t deserve him because your deceased mother was a commoner who married your father who born in aristocrat family. You grew up with people taunted you as half commoner and a mongrel. Which lead to your fear of becoming the queen of the kingdom. You believed that people won’t trust and love you. The society wouldn’t accept you especially the nobles wholly don’t welcome you as their ruler.

 

Furthermore, you were afraid of commitment and responsibility. Aware of the lack in many skills, you were socially awkward, terrible at communication and interaction within the aristocrats. Your big brother was once like you, he was bad at blending in the community and your father taught him patiently until he was a great man now. Your father was a famous intellectual guy. He owned the biggest library in the town – Ricky often bribed you to come to his castle by bragging about how amazing the castle library was – and in fact your father was such a respectful lecturer of Lunaria academy – an academy for selected nobles where Ricky also attended. Both your dad and your brother were no longer care of what people ill-mouthed about your family.

 

Your family suited the aristocrat title more than anyone because of the self-made successful career of your father. Then, followed by your brother to continue the good deed in teaching the folk. He also visited the commoner site many times and taught the kids about reading and colouring. You as well, even before you were well-known as the fiancée of the crowned prince, you were in charge of managing the family library. Your father was the head and founder while your brother was the deputy president, and you were the trustworthy manager. Beside your bibliophile, you have an interest in strawberries that your family owned a farm and was a supplier to bakery, cafe, restaurant, and the castle.

People who were close to you know about your true nature. You and your brother were pureblood noble because your parents were true blood. Little did people know that your mother was secretly a long relative of royal family. Only your father and certain royalty knew about the secret.

 

Soon after satisfied your crave on your fiancé blood, you both then kissed on the lips passionately. Ricky lifted up your skirt and rubbed your thigh while nibbled on your neck to your collarbone. You helplessly let out a few shameless moans which turned him on more.

 

“Honey.. I don’t think I can hold back when you moan so sexily.. Those sweet voices of yours are my favourite song now.. What can I do? I want you more, sweetheart...” He squeezed your thigh while looking lustily at you.

 

“Mm? Maybe you could make me moan louder and scream if we keep going... But please not here, Ricky..”

.

.

.

[timaeusterrored]

(More no marriage angst bc I can)

Kerry flinched at another thunderclap, staring out his stupidly large windows. He had always hated thunderstorms, flinching through them like no tomorrow. It was impossible to try and distract him as well, he always heard it, always knew.

He felt 25 again, smoking a blunt in the floor with a guitar in his lap. The only thing missing was Johnny hanging off the bed sound asleep. His heart ached, and for a moment he felt angry again. He had been so close to having him back-

A security alert popped up. Who the fuck was here at this hour?

Kerry huffed, putting his guitar aside and the blunt in the ashtray as he stood up, really not wanting to deal with people. But when did he ever?

“V?” When he had opened the door, a soaking wet V had his back turned like he was walking away from the door. He heard a swore before he turned. “The fuck are you doing?”

V didn’t answer immediately, weighing his options in his head before choosing to just shrug.

“Get inside, you’re soaked-“ and reeked of booze. “Are you drunk?”

“No some jackass at the Afterlife tried to fight someone and I got caught in the fire.” V muttered numbly, taking his hood off in the safety of Kerry’s villa. “Not allowed to drink anyway.”

Kerry didn’t question him and just walked upstairs to find him some clothes. V was right behind him, silent as always. It was unsettling sometimes, especially remembering how he used to be. It wasn’t fair to V to think like that, the poor man had been through enough.

Kerry left him upstairs with warm clothes and a towel, telling him he could shower downstairs while Kerry sat in the living room, resuming his smoke session and strumming.

While V showered, Kerry’s mind wandered. The two had a shared dream that he couldn’t shake. One of them, together. Happy. Married even. It was odd they both had the same dream, but neither wanted to talk about it. Or at least, Kerry didn’t.

He didn’t want to give V the hope that they had a chance.

V walked out not long later, apologizing about some bullshit of wasting water. Kerry stared at him, as if trying to remind him that ‘wasting water’ wasn’t a thing in this house. Instead, he offered his blunt to Vax.

V took it and sat on the couch behind him, tilting his head back to blow out the smoke. Fuck, Kerry wanted to bite him- no. Stop it.

“Why’d you come here? It’s raining if you didn’t notice. Oh and also, normal people don’t show up to other people’s houses at 2am.”

“Normal people also don’t get high and play the guitar either. But look at you.”

Touché.

“Answer the question, kid.”

Vax shrugged again, seemingly wanting to avoid talking about why he was here. But Kerry wasn’t having it.

“Tell me. Or I’m going to bed.” Kerry knew that wasn’t true, he’d lay in bed until he broke and invited V up to join him.

“Had a nightmare. I don’t sleep well by myself. Judy’s not in town, River isn’t talking to me, neither is Panam. Wanted you.” V muttered, blowing out more smoke as he talked, it was way hotter than it needed to be.

“Mmmm so I was your last choice?” Wouldn’t be the first time Kerry had been a last choice.

“No, you were my first. I just didn’t wanna bother you. I thought you were asleep in my defense.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, Ker.” He hated when V called him that. Too much like Johnny.

“You remember what I said, right?” Kerry asked after a moment.

“‘Course I do…” V whispered, and once again made Kerry feel like Johnny all over again. Constantly reminding V they weren’t, and never would be together.

But his dream self, the one that accepted it all, loved V. Proposed to V, took care of him. Kerry would never do that. Not to V.

“Let’s get you to bed. You look exhausted.” Like Kerry was any better.

“Yeah… I’ll be outta here before you wake up.” V said as if that was reassuring to Kerry as they headed up to the bedroom.

[rust-bearer]

I’ve got a whole zombie au one-shot planned out that I’ll be finishing soon, and I’ll definitely send a link when it’s done, but in the meantime I’ve got some other au stuff I’ve thought of. It never ends 🥲 but anyway, this is mostly more Combaticon related things and mainly revolves around transportation:

1. Not sure where I wanna focus or start or go with it, but to begin, I’m debating on their choice of transportation. Sure, encountering one Combaticon being in the wild is startling, but something tells me they travel in packs. I think that before the apocalypse, almost all members of the family had separate vehicles since Swindle is super fucking rich and refuses to carpool.

2. Post-apocalypse, though… hrmmm you could possibly do an electric vehicle? I dunno if those possibly run on electricity from solar panels? I don’t know if that could work. A simpler solution could be one of those church van things, or just a van used by paint companies or the vans that are stereotypically used by creepy kidnappers, I dunno just a van like that. Where does the gas come from, though? My biggest solution is that they go around and straight up siphon the gas from various vehicles LMAO they’re not passing up free opportunities.

3. Vans are nice for big groups of people, and I’d say five people plus Aid plus any kids they bring is fairly big? I dunno. Anyway, it’s just another way to cause complains and disagreements and arguments and such. Nobody can decide whether or not seatbelts or necessary or whether they should keep it clean/empty or keep things like napkins and condiments and such. Brawl and Onslaught, as the oldest siblings, demand that seatbelts be used, much to Vortex’s disappointment.

4. Seating arrangements are almost as bad as arguing over how full the gas tank should be kept on an average basis. Onslaught is usually the only one who drives the van for the most part. Sometimes Brawl borrows it for trips to the nearest Tractor Supply Co, but that’s the extent of his driving. Vortex and Blast Off are both permanently banned from driving, both for various reasons, and Swindle absolutely refuses to even touch the (as he puts it) “outdated, unsafe, rusty piece of shit’s excuse for a steering wheel.”

5. Ironically, despite his unwillingness to drive, Swindle is ADAMANT about sitting up front. When questioned about it (mostly by Vortex, who is a bit of a musical chairs passenger and hasn’t sat in the front seat of a vehicle for some time now), Swindle typically resorts to the “I get carsick” excuse. Nobody actually knows if he’s telling the truth or not, but nobody really cares enough to challenge the claim. Also, despite claiming to hate the town they live in due to the “red-neck” vibes it gives off, he knows his way around the area best out of everyone.

I’m not 100% satisfied with the “we have a creepy van now” solution, mostly because other variations of transportation exist that DON’T involve guzzling gas and making a shit-ton of noise with a vehicle that lost its muffler upwards of three times, but I don’t think the Combaticon’s would settle for anything different. Also, Swindle is against anything that involves excessive physical exertion, so extra points for poor long-term transportation planning. That’s all I’ve got though, and hopefully I’ll have that one-shot written soon.

Swindle is both the most adaptable but also the one who will complain the most and I cannot imagine how he felt when he had to go back to sharing a car with his siblings. Like. For as smart and easy to switch tracks as Swindle is, he’s never going to get over the fact that he now rides in a glorified van as his main source of transport.

Vortex, when he’s not playing musical chairs with seating, of course is like. Don’t worry guys I’ll just ride my horse. No you can’t ride her. I mean, you can try, but she bites. And the horse DOES bite because Vortex trained it to bite anyone who isn’t him. He thinks it’s hilarious. Then he’s a little less enthusiastic when children arrive with their proddy little fingers that the horse absolutely wants to bite and Aw fuck first aid is gonna get so mad.

But anyway. Yes Vortex rides his horse into town for supplies. Saddlebags and bandana/gas mask and both gun and sword. The zombies are sluggishly intrigued by the horse and more intrigued by the prospect of eating Vortex, but horse hide is THICK and any grabby hands just graze off the surface.

I’ve always wanted to throw a specific twist on the zombies, because every story does and for good reason; Kingdom has zombies that sleep during the day (kind of!), 28 days later has sprinters, Last of Us has fungus zombies; I Am A Hero zombies are superhuman and retain some memories.

WITH all that being said. I think a riff on that could be fun. The zombies continue to do whatever was last on their mind at time of death during the day. At night they seek out humans and invest all their energy into that. So you could wander the city during the day, provided you don’t alert the zombies or disturb them; at night, you have to hide. I can imagine going into a mall, for instance, and you try to grab something from a store, but the zombie security guard’s last routine and thoughts were ‘stop theft’ so you suddenly uh. Have to run, because he starts screaming, and everyone else reacts to try and get you, etc.

[twilightmalachite]

PORTRAIT - Ah, still delay—thou art so ■■■ 13

Author: Akira

Characters: Akiomi, Izumi

Translator: Mika Enstars

"I-I’m a model, not a hero, alright?! Ask RYUSEITAI’s Sagami Jin for that instead, please!"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Department Store's Furniture Area

???: ……

Izumi: What? Wha? What? What is thaaaat!?

Akiomi: D-Don’t speak, Sena-kun! You’ll bite your tongue!

Izumi: Carry me more gently then, idiot! You’re shaking and shaking me and it’s scary, scary, scary!

Akiomi: Be grateful, instead! You’re shockingly slow, Sena-kun, it didn’t look like you’d be able to get away, so I picked you into my arms!

I could have easily just left someone as hateful and un-cute as you behind to die and run away on my own, you know!

Izumi: Haah? Who’s un-cute? I’ll kill you!

Akiomi: If you want me to protect you, don’t tell me you’ll kill me!

Izumi: It’s not like I asked you to, did IIII?!

???: ……

Izumi: Eek!? That monster! I-It threw something! It threw something sharp!

Akiomi: Whoa, I guess they’re throwing equipment and stuff that’s lying around the place, huh… It’ll be really bad if something like your head gets hit, so try to avoid them, please!

Izumi: H-How am I supposed to avoid them? It’s dark, I can barely see a thing! You risk your life to protect me! Isn't that your responsibility?!

Akiomi: Well, it’s not like I’m your guardian or anything like that…?

???: ……

Izumi: Eeek!? It keeps throwing more things! Hurry and do something, idiot! Beat it, just like those guys in weird clothes do on TV!

Akiomi: I-I’m a model, not a hero, alright?! Ask RYUSEITAI’s Sagami Jin for that instead, please!

Izumi: Haah? What’s Ryusaytai? Sagamey Jin?

Akiomi: Oh, you never heard of that guy, even though he’s famous? Apparently Sagami Jin belongs to a unit by that name over at Yumenosaki Academy—

Izumi: Never heard of him. I don’t care about anyone other than Yuu-kun and I.

Akiomi: What a lonely life you live.

Izumi: Shut up! Shut up, shut up, don’t you pity me!

Akiomi: Ow ow ow!? Please don’t claw at my face!

Ahh, enough! Forget a wolf at the front gate and a tiger at the back—There’s a suspicious person at the front gate and a shitty brat at the back![1]

Izumi: What does that mean? I know you just said something mean about me! I’ll kill you!

Akiomi: (Aghh!? Why on earth am I doing this…!?)

(Ahh, I want to go back to my peaceful everyday life where I’m bored out of my mind! How come it’s instead turning out like a horror movie, where I’m being attacked by a monster in a department store in the middle of the night?!)

(Who am I to complain? Would I not have had to go through this if I had just kept away from these troublesome kids?)

(If I had just left them to fend for themselves in their harsh lives, even though they’re only just tiny boys…?)

(If I had pretended I saw nothing and treated it as none of my business?)

(…Doing so would make me no different than any other, despicable adult.)

(Those at the agency, those at the photography studio, and those parents who think they love these children…)

(Not one of them took what these children had to say seriously.)

(And so that’s why these children had no choice but to hold each other’s hands and rely on each other’s support instead.)

(If I give up on these children here, who else will stand for them?)

(For these poor, innocent children—)

Izumi: Kunugi! Kunugi-senpai!

Akiomi: What is it now!?

Izumi: There’s something vibrating under your pants!

Akiomi: My underpants? Why would it do that? Wait, you mean in my pants—Huh, is my mobile ringing?

Izumi: Moble?

Akiomi: I guess they’re not called that anymore, are they… Umm, who on earth could be calling me so late at night?

Akiomi: (Hm? Narukami-kun? It’s that kid that’s calling me, right?)

(But I already took them home, didn’t I…? Or, maybe it’s to apologize for all the trouble they caused me today?)

(You’re very civil when it comes to things like that, Narukami-kun. You try their hardest to gauge other’s feelings and act as accordingly as possible.)

(You’re giving it your all to be liked, admirably and desperately.)

(But it’s the opposite of what one would consider child-like, so adults might not think of you as cute, but…)

(I think you’re cute, that aspect included.)

Izumi: Hey. That’s a phone, isn’t it? Don’t you gotta answer it?

Akiomi: W-We need to get away from that costume and find somewhere safe, first!

Izumi: Costume? By that, do you mean that monster?

Akiomi: Correct! It might look like a real monster in the dark light, but monsters aren’t real—Meaning that must be someone inside a costume!

Meaning, we are currently being chased not by a monster, but by a creep in a costume! Either way, it’s a dangerous, or even a very serious situation, though!

Izumi: Hmm… Does that mean it’s human?

If it’s a human, that means it’ll get hurt if you hit it, and if you kill it, it’ll die, right?

Akiomi: You’re not wrong, but listen to me, I can’t do anything like fight it, okay?! I’ve lived my entire life honestly!

And yet, this is what I get…! God, please have mercy on me!

I’ve been making an honest effort to be a good boy, can’t I get rewarded just a little?!

Izumi: Hmph… You’re not the only one here doing their honest best.

Well, whatever. If you can’t answer the phone, Kunugi-senpai, then I will. I have the time since I’m being carried around.

Akiomi: Do you really have the time?!

Izumi: It doesn’t look like that costume can see well and is moving slowly. And everything they’re throwing is missing. It’s not all that scary if you keep your cool.

Izumi: Umm. You press this to pick up, I think? Hello?

…Hm? Who are you?

Akiomi: Hey, don’t answer people’s phones without their permission! Seriously, what are your parents teaching you?!

Izumi: You can say all the bad things you want about Papa and Mama, but I won’t let you.

Akiomi: Ow ow ow!? Please don’t pinch my cheek! Aiming for a model’s face is off-limits!

Izumi: Papa and Mama just suck at a lot of things. So they do a lot of things wrong. But still, they’re honestly doing the best they can—

So it's annoying when someone other than me says bad things about Papa and Mama.

[ ☆ ]

← prev | story directory | next →

The saying “tiger at the front gate, wolf at the back gate” refers to when you think you've escaped a danger, only to encounter a second one.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Big Sky S3 E5

Loved this moment! So cute! 😍😍

More about the episode and some of my theories below the cut:

This was a sweet episodes, lots of good moments. Poor Pops!! Glad they got him back safe and sound!

Avery gets sketchier and sketchier!!

Emily is so me here - looks like she's thinking, you gave up my Dad for this creepo?!

Ugh, all I want is for Beau to fulfill his punch list and just sock this fucker in the jaw!

Also, I don't know why, but I still find Cormac really creepy too. Maybe it's just the actor - maybe he's struggling to pull off the whole "sexy, mountain man" thing, but the character gives me the heebie jeebies. Like I'm legit theorizing that he's actually the bad one, and that Walter is just the red herring - traditionally "creepy" guy. Either way, I'd really like Cormac to leave Cassie alone!

Then there was this adorableness!

Jenny: I hate when you do that. (bites lip)

Uh, no sweetie you clearly don't hate the way he does anything! 😉)

This was a great episode, but I really need Emily to get the hell away from her sketchy Stepdad and her idiotic mother, and for Cassie to get away from Cormac.

Also - the song that was playing in the last scene when Cassie finds the heart in the tree was CREEPY AF!! Perfect song choice.

Also, also - I wanted to schmuck Cassie upside the head for wandering around the woods where super suspicious things are happening - by herself - in THE DARK!!! I mean, come on Cass, can't you hear the fucking song playing?!! You're obviously in a bad situation! 😱😜

[craftymakerland]

This is my new account after 2 years, I still have the stories from there, I just need to prove Reed them since it's been so long, my old account is "Luisa's Wife" poor choice of words, BUT it cought peoples attention which I'm going for, I hope you like it and lmk how it is!!! There will be more Chapters to come!!

( PART ONE!!!! )

Alexandra’s inferno

By: Tianna White

( Chapter 1 )

“ALEXANDRA!”

I heard my mother calling me from downstairs. I was just reading my book in peace, hoping not to deal with a person this early in the morning. I didn't really want to say anything but I went down anyway. To my surprise I saw nothing unusual. Just my father passed out drunk on the pool table and my mother on the lover seat with a box of cigarettes with only two left inside. They never really need me only if they want money or for me to make a quick stop to get something for them.

“What did you need?” I said in a slight rush.

I Just didn't want to be near her at the moment. She gave me a look up and down.

“You know you look like a man.” My mother said to me,

There was nothing I could do but just take in what she threw at me.

“A woman isn't supposed to grow a beard…your fucking hideouse.” My mom said with a glare.

“You're disgusting as a person, well your looks are what I hate most…You're really disappointing to look at.”

“Get out of my face.”

Just like that, I took it all in. Why did she always have to bother me when all she was gonna do was say such horrible things to me.I couldn't help that I was born with such conditions, but it's my fault. I left without hesitation and went back upstairs to my room, hoping that I wouldn't see them for the rest of the remaining day.

I made it to my room, closed the door quickly and locked it. I went to my bathroom, turned the light on and looked in the mirror. Maybe she was right, I was ugly as sin, the tooth gap, the beard and the afro of hair, I looked like a clown. I don't even know where I even got these genes from, but god forbid I start accusing my parents that they're not really mine. That would be another story that I would not like to get into.

I hated shaving my face, it was not normal for a woman to do as such. To speed up the process some, I just decided to grab the wax strip, bite on a cloth and start to strip the wax off. Besides, it wouldn't grow back as fast if I waxed it instead of shaving it. I counted to three and ripped it off as fast as I could, it was a horrible feeling. I hated it so much and to think that I have to do it six more times. When it came to the last strip I was already in tears. I really wanted someone to pull it for me but we all know that wasn’t gonna happen. So without hesitation I ripped it off and hurried to place my hand on the side of my face, biting the cloth even harder. It took me a little bit to recover but I managed to get up and clean up the mess. It was about time that I did something with my hair. I just threw it in a bonnet and left it as is.

I was more than ready to go to bed. Even though it was still early in the morning, I had blackout curtains so it didn’t matter to me. I just wanted to make it to the next day, then the day after that, and then the day after that. I really didn’t want to be here…

“Bibble…Bibble…BIBBLE!”

I snapped out of my train of thought and looked up.

“Who called my name?” I asked

“Baby are you okay? You’ve been deep in thought for the past hour.” She said worryingly

She didn’t know anything about my childhood and I plan to keep it that way until it is the right time. I really didn’t want to say anything to her but I had to say something. I was tired of answering questions of what I had on my mind. The thing is I wasn’t mad at her, I was just thinking the worst. I'm an overthinker, and it's not something to be proud of. I just got up from my seat and looked at her, trying to fix my facial expression.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m okay, I've just been in my own little world lately.”

I could tell that she knew something was wrong, but I was trying to make it look like everything was fine. I didn’t want her to interrogate me for it.

I watched her come behind me and rest her head on my neck, wrapping her arms around my waist.

“You know that I'm always gonna worry about you, and if anything starts to become harder for you, I'll always be here for you.” She looked at me with a gentle smile and kissed me on the cheek.

With that, she left to go do her daily duties. I was left in the room in silence, I started to walk around the temple, trying to calm myself from my thoughts. While tracing my steps over and over again, I happened to come across a big portrait of me and my wife. I couldn't help but just stand there for a while and think to myself of how I made it this far, how I ended up with a happy life, how I managed to escape all the bad things in my life and how I became so big in life. Come to think of it, it took one little thing to make all this happen. Usually you would think such a tragic event would be a regrettable one, but looking at where it got me. I've never been so happy to make such a decision.

I took another good look at the portrait and walked off. Keeping a smile on my face, I went past my wife's personal assistant, her name was Debrah I'm pretty sure. She was nice and not to mention has known her many years before I did. She was kinda like her kid. They had more of a daughter and mother kind of relationship. I didn't know too much about Debra, but Tempora always talks about her to me from time to time. What I do know is that Debra lost her mom at a very young age due to a huge unnecessary war between her parents and the W.S.B clan. She watched her mother be beheaded by the everlasting sword of life. Her mother was Lucifer's wife, so this wasn't just any sword that was able to kill her, they were on the hunt for it before even starting the war. Now we have it in me and Temporas possession, held in a very private place in the temple where only me and her can have access to it and there's at least thirty guards guarding it. From time to time me or her would go down there and see if it had been tampered with or not. God forbids that someone would make their way into the room without catching the guards attention. Even though the room is fully secure. The people around this area can be quite questionable and I like to keep my eye out for things like this.

Speaking of, I don’t think that either one of us has done our daily check on it. I went to the main hall to see if Tempora was there and I was right, she was sitting on her throne and looking over some papers that I didn’t finish a while ago. I went next to her and placed my hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, when was the last time that you checked the chambers?” I spoke out of curiosity.

Looking at her papers, she slowly put the down to remember the last time thats shes

Checked them.

“I don’t think that I checked them today at all.”

“Gotcha, I wanted to check and see if you did before I went to look for myself.”

“You do know that there are over a dozen guards protecting it right?” She looks at me.

“ I know, but you know how people are here, and the last thing I need is for someone to get a hold of it.”

“I guess you're right, by all means you can check it.” she gave me a smile while looking back at her papers.

“Besides, it hasn't been touched in over twenty-five thousand years, so there's one in a million chances that someone will take it.”

“I know, and in all that time I've still checked it, making sure that it didn't get tempered with.” I gave her a slight smirk.

“You're so lucky I love you dearly.”

“I'm more than lucky.” I moved my hand under her chin and pulled it gently towards me and kissed her on the lips.

“If I were you I would hurry up and check.” she said after parting from the kiss.

I gave her a smile back and started to walk away. I was gonna make this trip to the chambers as fast as possible.

Making my way down the hall, into the kitchen and through the trap doors underneath the cart, there was a set of stairs that would lead you into another hallway. All you had to do was keep going straight and take a couple of turns then you see four guards in front of the doors. They let me pass, and as soon as you go through those doors you have to keep going into a labyrinth maze. I don't need to make myself go through when I could easily walk through them, but you are only able to walk through if you live in the temple as one of the gods. After the maze you would go through another set of doors that contained all of the remaining guards, positioned to attack when threatened or if you're not supposed to be down there. When they saw me, immediately they straightened up.

“Has anyone else been down here besides me.” I gave the main guard a death stare.

“ No, your majesty, no one but you has been down here.” the guard replied.

I looked at them with one more glare to try and sense if they were lying or not.

“Very well, please open the door.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

The guards opened the door, allowing me to pass through. Everything seemed like nothing was wrong. Nothing was tampered with and everything was in place. With that I left the room and let the guards go back to what they were supposed to do.

I finally made my way back up and I intensely remember why I hurried to get back up here. I made my way into the main hall to see if she was on her throne still, to my surprise she was. I walked over to her. She looked like she was really into what she was doing.

“Hey baby, how's the papers going?”

“Oh hi, yeah no, im almost done with making the next meeting with apollo.”

“I see no point in even having one with him.”

“Yeah I know, but I still have to put a reminder out, cuz if I didn't and he actually decides to show up, Zeus would never let me hear the end of it.”

“I guess you do have a point, but he never shows up-”

“Could you both shut up, I've been hearing yall yap all day PLEASE shut up!”

She has a mouth on her neck, one in the middle of her chest, one on each breast and a huge one on her stomach. The one on her stomach is the one that has a huge problem with us talking, they all have a mind of their own but the one on her stomach has a smart mouth and no matter what someone says. It gets annoyed very easily.

“You know what I'm really getting tired of you, you are more than lucky that you're attached to my wife or I would rip you out from the skin.” I threatened

'WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE MOUTH IS LUCKY, I'M THE LUCKY ONE.” Tempora interrupted.

“Yeah that's what I said.” I replied

“Well im stopping this right now haha, I do NOT want to hear you both fight again, and you know how weird that looks? You are arguing with my stomach.”

“Fair enough, and if it says anything here in a few minutes I will cover it with a piece of cloth.” I looked at her with a smirk.

“You know, they feel whatever I feel.” She looked at me as she got up from her throne using her spider-like legs to lift herself up. She grabbed me by the waist and got inches closer to my face.

“You are just so pretty.”

Lifting her hand and placing it on the side of my face, I was gonna kiss her once again. It always sounds like a new experience, considering that we have been married for over thirty thousand years, but being a god gets really busy. So I cherish every moment that I spend with her. I placed my hand on her cheek looking directly into her eyes and my lips touched hers once again. There was nothing that could ruin this moment, nothing…

[i-eat-glue-sticks]

A SNIPPET OF MY STORY

(This part is old, and in need of a few tweaks)

The streets were bustling with people trying to go somewhere. It had a grim look, rotting plants, broken windows, starving children, and stray cats roaming around. Kids would be seen on the road, begging for a bite of your muffin or a nibble. You may wonder, where are their parents? Yeah, a few starving kids might be normal, but not this amount to where they could fill an office building. Well, in recent years it is no longer required to care for your children.You can dump them on the side of the road like they are garbage. Worth nothing. 

Here we are, with Luxina. Her hair is unkempt and overgrown due to being kicked out at the age of 10, 5 years ago. Her warm ivory skin glowed in the harsh sunlight, beating on her sweaty face. Luxina, also known as Lux, hands were cupped and begging for some food or even better, money.  Soon the hooded eyes her own mother gave her were filled with tears.

She was one of the older ones, she couldn't cry in front of the younglings. Lux ran off to a corner to sob her sorrows away. Her hands entangled in her black messy hair. Weeps of sadness were muffled by the fear of being heard.

“Hey kiddo, what's wrong?”

A man knelt to Luxinas height, his shaggy black hair falling in his warm and caring eyes. Ivory skin with a few rough marks of mud, wide set eyes full of concern, and his lips curved into a frown. He hated seeing people sad, especially somebody so youthful.

“I- i hate living like this. . .” She managed to say through her sobs. 

The man pulled her into a comforting hug, not wanting to see her in this poor state. His arms gave her a warm feeling of hope, hope of her life getting better. She quickly returned the hug while sobbing into the strange, yet kind, man's shoulder. The two stayed like this for a good five minutes before Luxina pulled back.

“My name is Zyon, by the way. What’s yours?” The man offers her a hand to stand her up.

“Luxina, but you can just call me Lux.” She sniffled as she stood up.

Zyon looked at her with eyes full of concern and fatherly care. He may have just met the girl, but he already felt protective over her. He couldn't leave this young girl alone in the streets, not when he and his roommates had room to take care of others. He tilted his head and a soft smile grew on his face.

“Alright then. Lux, I know this may be a strange and creepy looking offer, but do you want to live with me and my friends? I know, I know, it sounds creepy. Rest assured that it isn't supposed to be that way.” He gave a soft chuckle. “I just dont stand for what the government is doing to you guys. Pushing you away and making young people fend for their own. It isn't right.”

Luxina paused. She didn't know how to feel about this sudden offer. Yeah, it did sound creepy the way he said it, but they needed the help. Maybe… no! It would be idiotic to accept help from a stranger, but he is a kind stranger. He isn't like the other adults who spat or kicked at her sobbing, he hugged her.

“I do want to. After all, I need any help I can get.” Luxina decided while fiddling with her fingers, worried if she made a bad choice.

Zyon nods and leads her the way to his shared apartment, which was an old building that ran for $1000 rent, so he obviously took it. It was a decent place, well it was decent when they fixed it all up. It had the bare minimum, running water, lights, sleeping areas, and a stable roof. He was determined to get this girl a caring household. She obviously needs help and a home, and he was gonna give it.

This is all that has been published so far, but more is hopefully coming soon. Here is the link, hope you like it !!

[1001albumsrated]

#2: Elvis Presley - Elvis Presley (1956)

Genre(s): Rock n Roll

Number two on the 1001 Albums list is the iconic eponymous debut album from Elvis Presley, which rocketed him (and rock n roll) into superstardom. Before we talk about the music, the graphic designer in me needs to point out that obvious: the album cover is spectacular. Top notch photography, and lovely color, font, and typesetting choices. Not that it needs to be said, but man what a classic cover.

Anyways, the music. I probably haven't sat down and listened to this front to back since I was a kid; I've got fond memories of dancing around my grandma's living room to these songs as a preschooler. Obviously I've heard these songs individually about a million times since then. But still, it's interesting to go back and give it a thoughtful listen the whole way through. The first thing that really struck me is the poor quality of the recording. It's something I'd never really noticed before, but honestly I'm not sure I've ever sat down and given these tunes a solid critical listen as an adult. The King sounds like he's inside a trash can for most of the record. It's not appalling and not terribly surprising for "less serious" music of the time, but you can't help but wonder if the folks at Sun or RCA Victor ever kicked themselves for not doing more once the influence of this album became apparent (in between dips in their Scrooge McDuck pool of that sweet, sweet Elvis cash, of course).

The other thing that struck me as I listened was that now, knowing the original versions of most of these songs much better than I did at age 5, how much I don't care for Elvis's versions of these tunes. I Got A Woman and Tutti Frutti in particular left me yearning to hear Ray Charles and Little Richard respectively. Elvis's versions just feel wimpy in comparison. Where's the bite? Where's the soul? I'm not going to get into the racial politics of Elvis's career or the debate on whether he was stealing from black artists (not because it isn't an important conversation, but because you could write a book about it and a blog post isn't long enough to get into the meat of the topic), but I will say that these tunes feel like pale imitations of the originals. That being said, it's still an enjoyable listen. But like the teens buying the record in 1956, and like so many other things in life, it's more enjoyable if you don't know what you're missing.

Speaking of missing things, what we're missing right now is the most important question, the one we're here to answer: MUST you hear Elvis Presley's self-titled record before you die? I wrestled with this one a bit. If this album existed in a vacuum I think the answer would be no. But it doesn't. Instead, it's the album that launched rock n roll into the mainstream, and changed the definition of what stardom could be. I almost hate to say it, but I think that on the merits of its enormous historical and cultural significance, and endlessly rippling influence, the answer is Yes. If you somehow haven't heard this album before, take a minute to sit down and give it a thorough front to back listen. These two sides inform a large chunk of the music we'll be listening to on this journey, and it's important to really hear it at least once.

For the nerds who care, I listened to this album (like many I don't own on a physical format) in hi-res on Qobuz. Not that the resolution will do this one too many favors, but it's a matter of principle sometimes with audio.

And that's a wrap! I plan to post fairly regularly (otherwise I'll never be done with this thing), so more to come very soon... dust off your cowboy hats and tune in next time for Tragic Songs of Life by The Louvin Brothers!