#i spent all day on this so pls consider checking it out :)

[lesboysilver]

new zine dropped

[honeypiehotchner]

the open road (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Happy 5.5k 🤪🤪 I’ve literally had this idea in my head for a WHILE so I am mf glad to have it out. Enjoy ;))

Summary: All the times you and Hotch spent on the open road, and the one where you couldn’t help yourself.

Warnings: smut 18+ only blah blah we know the drill (pls!), car sex!! blowjob ;)) unprotected sex (don’t be like them, use a condom), lots of teasing, lots of fluff/smut adjacent dialogue

WC: ~2.8k

It started when you saw how Hotch drives when he’s in a hurry.

Your body flung against the car door despite your hold on the safety handle above you. Infuriated, you went to yell at Hotch to slow the fuck down, until you saw the look on his face, the way his hands gripped the wheel, the way his muscles flexed underneath his dress shirt.

Oh.

Oh, the thoughts you had were beyond inappropriate, especially considering the circumstances. You were rushing to catch the unsub, and you were having unholy thoughts about your boss.

You quickly focused your eyes back on the road ahead, chanting cleansing thoughts to calm your mind down from whatever the hell that was.

It worked in the moment, but only just. What truly didn’t help matters was that you somehow always ended up riding shotgun with Hotch, no matter what. Sometimes with Rossi in the backseat, but most times it’s just you two.

Which makes it impossibly hard to hide your staring.

On this particular day, you and Hotch went to a prison about an hour away to interview a serial killer on death row. This sort of thing is routine, but you’ve never tagged along for them. It’s usually Reid or Prentiss, but for some reason, Hotch decided to take you.

It was a boring day, to say the least. Traffic getting there was awful. The checks to get into the prison and then to the specific area took forever. To make matters worse, the killer didn’t really want to talk. He wanted to play games.

Needless to say, you feel like it was a waste of time. But you can’t say that to your boss.

Instead, on the ride back to Quantico, you say, “That was enlightening.”

Hotch scoffs, then laughs. “It was a nightmare.”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t going to say that.”

“It’s alright, you can say it.”

“Fine, it was boring as hell and a complete nightmare,” you blurt, glad to have gotten it off your chest.

Hotch laughs loudly this time. “You were holding that in.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, grinning. “Definitely.”

Hotch goes to reply, but stops himself when he has to slam on brakes. A sea of red taillights are ahead.

“That looks like a nightmare,” you groan, pulling up your GPS. “Two and a half hours to get home?”

“There must’ve been a wreck,” Hotch comments, angling his head to get a better look and that looks hotter than hell.

“We should probably get off at this exit,” you say. Thankfully, you’re in the far right lane, so exiting won’t be hard.

“Good plan,” he says, putting on the signal to get over to the ramp. “Can you navigate back to the BAU?”

“Sure,” you say. “Take a left up here.”

At first, the traffic is just as bad with everyone getting off at the same ramp to avoid the interstate, but soon it calms down.

You rant about the interview while navigating, not even realizing Hotch is replying to you until he compliments you.

“What?” you blink.

“I said you did good today,” he repeats. “You held yourself well. You should do more of these with me.”

“With you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t advise doing them alone.”

“Why not?”

“It’s better done in pairs,” he says, and that’s all he’ll elaborate.

So, you decide to tease him. “Sounds like you just want an excuse to spend more time with me.”

“I don’t need to make excuses to do that,” he replies smoothly, catching you off guard.

“Oh?”

“I chose you today on purpose,” he says. “Not as an excuse.”

“Oh,” you say, not sure what to make of that. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. And the drive is silent after that.

+++

Now, you look forward to riding shotgun with Hotch.

Maybe you shouldn’t, but you let yourself think those wildly inappropriate thoughts. And the more tame ones, which you’re able to voice, because he’s taken a liking to complimenting you, too.

“New haircut?” he says when you knock on his office door. He had barely glanced up at you from where he’s sitting, but one second was all he needed to see the difference.

“First one to notice,” you smile, stepping into his office.

“I just pay a lot of attention to you.” That’s enough to make you swoon, but he continues. “It looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” you reply. You study him for a moment. “New tie?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, lifting the piece of fabric. “A birthday gift this morning from Dave.”

Your eyes widen. “Is today your birthday?”

Sheepishly, he nods.

“Aaron!” you scold, blowing right past the fact that you used his first name. “Why didn’t you say?”

“It’s not a big deal, and serial killers don’t care about birthdays,” he says, grabbing his briefcase. He stands and buttons his jacket. “Are you ready?”

“I guess,” you mutter. “I’m mad that you scheduled this for your birthday.”

“Not for my birthday, it just happens to be on my birthday.”

“Same difference.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he gestures for you to go out the door. “Before we’re late.”

“We won’t be late,” you scoff.

“You just have to have the last word today, don’t you?”

You pause. Well. Those thoughts are definitely inappropriate, and you’re glad you stopped yourself from saying something you shouldn’t have. Especially with the rest of the team staring up at you and Hotch from their desks down in the bullpen.

They’ve been listening to your bickering for the past few minutes. They knew it was his birthday (courtesy of Reid), but they also know he isn’t a fan of huge celebrations.

Still, you’re upset about this, and Hotch has no idea why.

You bid the team goodbye as you and Hotch head out to the garage to pick up a BAU vehicle to take to the prison.

The drive there is smooth on the interstate. The interview is slightly less of a bore than the last few, but also not enlightening. Everything the killer said, you already knew.

Hotch decides not to take the interstate back to Quantico.

“It’ll only add half an hour,” he says. “I’m tired of seeing only interstate signs.”

“Suit yourself,” you say. Normally he can’t wait to get back to work.

You use this as the perfect time to corner him about his birthday, sure that he’ll regret his decision and get back on the interstate.

“How are you celebrating?” you ask.

“I’m not,” he shrugs.

“Why not?”

“Well, for starters, we have work tomorrow.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to be out late.”

“One drink won’t be late.”

“I’m old.”

You snort. “You’re not that old.”

“I’m 44.”

“Not old, I’d still go--” you stop yourself abruptly.

“You’d what?”

“Nothing,” you laugh. Shit shit shit. “You’re not old.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing!” you cry, laughing awkwardly.

“Y/N.”

“Nothing, Aaron.”

“You can tell me.”

You shake your head. “I definitely cannot.”

“Y/N.”

“Aaron.”

You stare at him and he stares back at you, intermittently looking away to watch the road, but it’s wide open. No one is around. And he’s better at staring than you are.

“Fine,” you grumble. “I’d still…I’d still go for you.”

“Go for me?”

“Yes, like, have sex with you— with a 44 year old because 44 isn’t that old— Please watch the road and stop looking at me.”

He grins, but he looks back at the road. One car passes. You’re mortified. You want to jump out of the window and roll into the ditch and stay there.

“Will you say something?” you blurt.

He laughs, and that makes you grimace. This is not how you pictured this conversation happening.

“Thank you. I think,” he says.

“You’re welcome,” you huff. “Even though I shouldn’t have said anything. That was inappropriate.”

“It wasn’t inappropriate,” he replies, and his hand does what it has done this entire trip -- and drives in the past. He gestures into your space on the passenger side, each time nearly connecting with your arm. This time, his fingers graze your skin.

“Okay…” you hesitate for a moment, keeping your arm on the console, not inching away from his touch.

He doesn’t move his hand, either, and it’s strange. His knuckles brush down your arm, over your wrist and to your fingers where he rests his hand over yours. You can feel his own hesitation, wondering how many lines this is crossing and how many rules are being broken.

“So, if I-- if someone my age,” he corrects himself, “asked you on a date, you would go for it?”

“Absolutely,” you reply a little too quickly.

“It seems like you’ve thought about this.”

“I have,” you admit.

“Good to know,” he says, smirking. And that’s the end of it.

+++

It’s a slow progression, your relationship with Hotch. The many car rides together on the open road provide for perfect moments. Here, with no one around, the two of you can be affectionate without worry.

He holds your hand while he drives, occasionally bringing your knuckles to his lips for a kiss. You play with his fingers, tracing his knuckles, the lines on his palm.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling bold, he’ll rest his hand on your thigh. The first time it happened, arousal paralyzed you. Now, it makes you want to climb in his lap.

He has to know what he’s doing.

He squeezes your thigh and you’re done for, squirming in your seat like it’s uncomfortable.

“What is wrong with you?” he asks.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” you mutter.

“What?”

“You have your hand on my thigh and you’re asking me what’s wrong?”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No, you-- Let me just--” You move his hand, only so you can give him a taste of his own medicine. You place your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch, and his jaw tenses immediately. “See?”

“I see.”

You squeeze your hand, digging your fingertips in, and you see him swallow hard. “Want me to move my hand?” you ask playfully. You begin to take your hand away and he grabs your wrist, keeping your hand right where it is.

Oh?

He says nothing about it, so neither do you. The drive continues in silence, only the radio playing lowly.

After a while, you notice that not a single car has passed by. The two of you seem to be alone again on this road.

Your skin is burning with the anticipation of what you want to do. Your fingers twitch against his leg, wanting to move further up his thigh, but resisting.

He’ll tell you to stop. If it’s too much. You should just go for it.

So you do.

In a moment of reckless boldness, you stare straight ahead at the road and slowly creep your hand up his thigh.

You hear him inhale sharply, but he doesn’t stop you.

You trace slow circles on the fabric of his pants, each time inching closer and closer to where you want to be. His belt will be in the way, though. That’ll have to go first.

“You should tell me to stop,” you murmur, letting your fingers travel to his belt. You begin to tug on it, getting his attention. “Aaron?”

“Keep going,” he says, through a tight jaw. He glances over at you but then back at the road. His left hand tightens on the wheel.

He wore the belt that snaps, so you’re able to open it swiftly. Unbuttoning his pants, you tug the zipper down. He’s already hard, but not fully just yet. His restraint is unbelievable to you, but you know his body well enough now to get around it.

He adjusts his hips to give you better access, but accidentally revs the car when he does.

“Relax,” you chuckle. “You can’t run us off the road.”

“I won’t,” he says firmly.

You hum as you tease him some more, lightly touching him, smirking as he grows. Easy.

He’s uncomfortable, reaching down to move his underwear. If you weren’t so pleased with yourself, you would’ve swatted his hand away. But instead you let him do it, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around him.

“Your hands are always so cold,” he laughs, his voice deeper now.

“You’re always so warm,” you retort, stroking him gently. “Is there anyone around?”

He looks in the rearview and then shakes his head. “No.”

“Good,” you smirk, unbuckling your seatbelt. You lean over the console, glad that this model has such a flat design.

“Shit,” he cusses, realizing what you plan to do. He should’ve known better than to assume otherwise, honestly.

You take him into your mouth with a low hum, loving the way the muscles in his legs tense immediately. Only the tip rests on your tongue, yet you feel his heart rate beginning to pick up.

He talks a big game, acting nonchalant and cool, until your mouth is on him. He’s said before that he loses it all with you. There is no holding back.

Taking him deeper, you feel him hit the back of your throat sooner than expected, causing you to gag. This angle is different, and his hand reaches for your shoulder, a gentle touch, asking if you’re alright.

You suck him down again, better prepared now, and his hand tenses, lifting off your skin to not leave bruises, even though you’d like him to (but you haven’t told him that just yet).

To compromise, you grab his hand and place it on the back of your head, looking up at him. He glances down in surprise, meets your eyes, and groans, letting out the sound he’s been holding inside.

His hand pushes on your head, the pressure igniting something inside of you. You adjust to get a better angle, pulling back to swirl your tongue over his head.

The car speeds up again, but he catches himself, not wanting you to stop. His hand remains at the back of your head, keeping you in place, as if you’d go anywhere anyway.

“I’m gonna have to pull over,” he mutters, barely getting the words out.

You shake your head and he groans loudly. Lifting up, you look at him. “Where’s the fun in that?”

His head hits the headrest and he sighs, chuckling deliriously. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“You say that every time,” you tease.

He continues driving, determined now to not pull over. The thrill goes away if he isn’t driving.

Continuing as you were, you chase his release, desperate to hear him. You take him into your mouth fully again, swallowing with a contented hum.

You feel it when he begins to unravel, the way he twitches in your mouth, the way his abdomen tenses. He keeps your head pinned down, only lightly, but enough for you.

His climax is unexpected even for him, spilling down your throat without much more than a few seconds warning. He lifts his foot from the gas, willing his eyes to stay open enough to see the road.

You swallow it all, coaxing more from him, relishing in his little noises. If it weren’t for the console finally digging in a little too hard to your ribcage, you would stay.

You lift your head with a satisfied smile, squeaking in surprise when his hand on the back of your head pulls you into him for a kiss.

“The road!” you mumble through kisses, keeping an eye on it, even though it’s still empty.

“Fuck the fucking road,” he mutters, swerving to pull off to the side. He puts the car in park and pulls you back in.

“Aaron!” you laugh, letting him haul you into his lap.

“I can’t drive and do this,” he says, putting both hands on your face and smothering you in a kiss.

He grows harder underneath you, especially now that you’re sitting in his lap, grinding your hips against him.

“Thank god these windows are tinted,” you chuckle as he practically rips your pants off of your legs. You hear a seam rip and you give him a tired look. “Seriously?”

“I’ll buy you more,” he says, finishing the job and ripping them entirely. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Whore,” you snicker, but it’s broken off when he enters you in one swift movement.

“You were saying?” he whispers, smirking against your cheek. You can’t answer and he starts to grin, nipping at your jaw. “That’s what I thought.”

+++

When the two of you return to Quantico two hours late, the team starts to wonder what is really going on.

Each time, your excuse is traffic, stopping to get food, gas, or all of the above. But this time, there is no hiding the obvious.

Meaning, the way Hotch has to come into the office to grab your go bag from your desk so you’ll have a pair of fucking pants to wear into the building.

[modanisgf]

APPLE CIDER , HUH YUNJIN

☆ SUMMARY— you met yunjin at a beabadobee concert and never went back, being attached at the hip. though as you start to develop feelings for her, you realize she’s been hiding something from you. something that you couldn’t live with.

☆ PAIRING(S)— non!idol huh yunjin x fem!reader

☆ WARNING(S)— some angst, profanity

☆ GENRES— right person wrong time, wlw, miscommunication, forbidden love, yunjin is a bit toxic i am now realizing! (erm..)

☆ A/N— for my number one pookie @jayjj7 🙏 thank u for being my friend 🫶🫶🫶 you are so funny and thank u for making me laugh sm also i promise it gets good at the end guys.. i also actually dk a lot about cupid so pls dont comment on how accurate that part is

☆ WC— 1.5k

MASTERLIST

if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you’ve loved huh yunjin since the day you met her. the way she helped you when you were at your lowest, being the only person to even look at you.

yunjin was perfect in all ways but one, and you’re starting to catch on. she had been rather distant lately, giving you short replies and even going as far to leave you on read.

you weren’t sure what sparked this, it happened randomly one day and ever since you’ve felt different. the days seemed longer and more boring without yunjin to light them up, but you still made it through just barely.

one night though, you woke up to a loud ringing. cursing at yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, you picked up your phone and answered not checking the contact before.

“hello?” you say, yawning.

“y/n?” yunjin says her voice woke you right up, the shock making you sit up.

“yunjin?” you say, confused.

“why are you calling me this late?”

“i need to tell you something, can you meet me at our spot soon? it can’t wait i’m sorry.”

“i’ll be there.” is all you say before hanging up, quickly making an effort to get ready.

you weren’t sure why you agreed, considering yunjin hadn’t even taken the time out of her day to speak to you until now. but you’re soon reminded of your love for the girl, the thought making you sigh.

finally, you finish getting ready, leaving your house and making your way down your street heading for the lake you and yunjin would always visit.

the two of you could spent hours there just talking, the memories flooding in as you thought about the place.

pushing them back, you stopped at the front of the lake once you saw yunjin. you could recognize her face from a mile away, her bright red hair always making you laugh remembering the night she dyed it.

“y/n does it look bad?” she asks, looking horrified at you over the phone.

“no yunjin it looks good.” you say, barely containing your laughter.

“why are you laughing then?!”

“you’re so cute.”

yeah, you hated how good your memory was.

yunjin must’ve heard your footsteps, the girl turning around to meet your eyes waving to you timidly.

you walked over to her, taking a seat next to her. the tension was evident between you two, considering this was the first time you were around each other in weeks.

"where have you been?” you ask quietly.

“dealing with some things but—“ she replies.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you say, the anger you felt previously coming back.

“there’s more to it y/n.” yunjin sighs.

“yunjin i’ve told you everything, i’m sure that i won’t be mad if you just communicate with me.” you say, your hand reaching out for hers as she interlocks them.

“are you sure?” yunjin says quietly, making you more nervous.

“i’m sure.”

“y/n i love you, i’ve loved you since forever now and i want to be yours.” yunjin says, holding your hand tightly now.

your eyes light up, “why didn’t you just tell me? i’m in love with you too, i thought it was obvious.”

“that’s not exactly the issue though i just—“ yunjin pauses, thinking about her word choice carefully.

“we can’t be together.” she says finally, making you drop her hand.

“huh?”

“we can’t be together y/n, and it’s not right for me to keep this from you anymore.”

“what the hell are you talking about?”

yunjin flinched at your tone, moving away from you a bit in order to give you space. she bit her tongue, thinking of ways to explain this situation.

the truth is yunjin was here to help y/n find love, not have her fall in love with her and yunjin reciprocate the feeling. yunjin was never truly meant to become this close to y/n, and for weeks now her ‘boss’ had been sending her angry messages.

she had been gone too long from her post, other people needing her help were waiting for cupid to come into their lives and assist them. but the tale was slowly disappearing, as yunjin was gone.

yunjin was set to go home the next morning, so she had to explain this quickly. she didn’t know why she didn’t just spend her last days with y/n, and she knew how much regret she would be feeling as she left. she chose to ignore that for now, refocusing on you.

the silence was very long on your end, but it broke as you saw yunjin look at you again. her eyes boring into yours, yunjin not noticing how furious you looked.

“we were never meant to fall in love, i was supposed to help you find love.” yunjin says, leaving you confused.

“what do you mean? yunjin you sound so stupid right now—“ you say, thinking she was messing with you.

“i’m serious y/n,” she deadpans, “we aren’t allowed to date.” she says firmly.

“who isn’t allowing you?” you ask.

yunjin didn’t think this through at first, realizing the concept of cupid was just a myth in your eyes only making it harder for you to take her seriously.

“my dad,” yunjin lies not wanting to drag this out, “he isn’t fond of me being in a relationship right now.”

you look at her with sympathy, apologizing soon after.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have been so rude—“ you rant on, yunjin cutting you off.

“it’s fine y/n, but there’s another thing. i leave tomorrow morning.” yunjin says.

“to where?” you ask, wondering so many different things.

why the hell was yunjin dropping all of this on you now? you could’ve spent her last week together, but instead she decided to ghost you. in short, you were frustrated with her immensely. you didn’t like how she had you wrapped around her finger, and you should’ve never accepted her invite to the lake.

“i’m just moving, my parents wanna move up north.” yunjin says, looking down.

it was obvious she was lying, but you chose to ignore it. at least she was saying something to you now, instead of leaving you on read for days on end not even bothering to respond ever.

“mhm.” was all you could say, not really sure what else to.

“yunjin, are you gonna tell me why you’re really leaving?” you ask, noticing how fast she tenses up.

she definitely thought she had you, the thought making you roll your eyes.

“i can’t, you wouldn’t understand-“

“just tell me, it doesn’t matter if i do or not i want to know the truth.” you say firmly.

yunjin sighs taking a long pause, “y/n, we can’t date because i’m not supposed to be yours.”

“we weren’t even supposed to meet, but i felt differently about you when i first saw you.” yunjin says.

“when i was crying at concert..?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood a bit. you smile when you see yunjin laugh a bit.

“yeah..” yunjin says, reminiscing.

“i’ll never forget that night.”

“i promise you if it was up to me i would take every chance i could to be yours, i’d love you until the end of time.” yunjin starts, “but unfortunately it couldn’t be that way, and i have to leave soon to help others.”

“i’m cupid.” she finishes.

“cupid?”

“yes, i was meant to pair you up with someone at that concert.” yunjin says, quietly.

“yunjin, and you never thought to tell me this at least a week before you have to go back?” you ask.

yunjin takes a deep breath before replying, the tension in her muscles leaving her feeling uneasy.

“i just didn’t think you would love me back, i thought i could just leave and forget about my feelings but i didn’t realize until recently that you felt the same.” yunjin says.

“yunjin, you make it so hard to not love you.” you say, holding her face in your hands now.

“i’m so sorry y/n. i’m so sorry that we never get to be with each other.” yunjin says, looking straight into your eyes.

“it’s not your fault jin, i forgive you.”

“can i hold you before you go?”

“please.”

the two of you spent a while at that lake in silence, as you fell asleep with yunjin in your arms. secretly you wished that she would be there when you woke up, knowing well she wouldn’t.

you felt empty when you woke up, yunjin’s presence not being there. you stared out at the rising sun, before you notice a little note in front of you.

‘i’ll always love you.’ it read, with no signature. but you knew who wrote it, not even needing to think twice.

you’ll always think about huh yunjin, no matter how much time passes. she just meant that much to you, a girl you met a concert during your worst. you’ll miss her for decades, moving on never working.

wishing you weren’t stuck on someone you couldn’t have, someone you wouldn’t even be able to see ever again.

you missed her so bad, and it hurt so bad knowing you were never going be with her.

[pandoa]

the color purple

you and jamil have ice cold sweets of blue and red together on the beach's shore

~jamil viper x gender neutral reader~ word count: 1.5k words

written entry for @merotwst and @cvlutos's Jamil's Summer Contest! pls do enjoy! and also check out everyone else who entered too using the tag!

“What kind of popsicle stand only has two flavors?” You said, bewildered, holding up a blue, frozen treat you had just gotten from a nearby vendor—gazing at how the sweets shined and reflected underneath the sun. It had only been moments since you’d purchased it, however, as you continued to gaze at the sugary snack, you began to notice how the popsicle had already been melting under the heat of the beachside shore. 

So much for a cool down, you sneered. What was the point in buying a cold treat if it would just melt away the second it touched the atmosphere?

“It is a bit odd considering it only features popsicles.” Beside you, your boyfriend had reached out to your form, signaling for you to hand him your trash, as he flipped his braided hair away from his shoulder, “You’d think they’d invest in more choices to satisfy different customers.” Jamil spoke, voicing his thoughts on the matter all while guiding his eyes to his own strawberry flavored popsicle—the red of his treat contrasting with the blue of your own. 

“Yeah,” you continued, licking the blue popsicle in your hand in the process, “But, hey, at least we got something. The beach was scorching hot earlier; I think we deserve at least this much.” Squinting up to the setting sky, a bead of sweat then ran down the side of your forehead at the utterance of your words. You lazily wiped it away, making sure it wouldn’t collide with your eye, as you turned your attention back towards your boyfriend who seemed to be least affected by the heat compared to you.

It’s like his body doesn’t even sweat; it just sparkles— You observed, half of you envious of the young man and the other half adoring the sight before you. It was as if Jamil had always had the upper hand against you—whether he was aware of it or not—just by simply existing in the world as his effortless radiance caused pulses of your heart to skip and turn and churn into a rose-colored oblivion. Indefinitely unfair to you, but Jamil had found a certain smugness to his expression whenever he’d catch you dreamily staring off into space or fanning away a pink color from your face at his actions.

Jamil looked back at you, also eating away at the treat resting in his hand as the red from the popsicle already made its way to tinting his lips, “True enough.” A silence much too comfortable to interrupt then played between you two as you both made your way back to the shore you’d spent your day in, dipping your feet into the water as it caressed the sides of your ankles with the sea’s consistent waves. The day at the beach had been long yet exhilarating starting with you, Jamil, Kalim, as well as the first years deciding it would be fun to take a trip to the coast on your vacation off from Night Raven. You looked back at the day spent with your friends as the sun lowered from its place in the sky along with the many shades of pink, scarlet, and orange encapsulating it in the stratosphere. You looked back at the memories you had, the moments and seconds you’d spent that day, laughing with everyone around you, as splashes of saltwater flooded your mind in bliss. You saw as the volleyball you all had played with hours ago flew miles above your heads in your memories, the castles Ace and Deuce had built before its destruction by oceanic waves seconds after, and even the birds who’d dive down to your little group, attempting to sneak a small bite from Kalim’s food—all of it, you reminisced.

Although, as you continued savoring the sweetness of your blue popsicle on the coastline of the sea, you had come to find that there’d been one final thing missing from your trip to the shore before it would end, and that was—

“Ah—Sorry,” you noticed Jamil hesitantly apologizing as you jumped up in surprise, feeling a familiar hand softly stroke the side of your cheek. To your left, Jamil had suddenly been inches closer to your form than he’d usually been, appearing as dumbfounded as you, while a whisper of the breeze whistled through your ears alike. You watched the sun continue to set while golden rays of light reflected onto the waves of the beach and into Jamil’s charcoal eyes, ridden with nerves and hidden anticipation you could not pinpoint just yet. “You just had a little…” Jamil softly spoke with his hand still lingering against your now rosy face, “sand on your cheek.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” your words began to fumble, struggling to maintain eye contact with the man, “Thank you.”

Another period of silence cut between the two of you as you both stood frozen still in the shallow water as if both of your bodies denied the melting heat of the sun. As more time had passed, a greater tension built up between you and Jamil, one filled with curiosity, anxiousness, nervousness, and adrenaline. It caused your stomach to freeze, your breathing to stop, and your heart to halt at the uncertainties that could happen next. You and Jamil were expecting something from one another. Something magical. Something fearful. Something you’d been wishing to do for ages. Something worthwhile. 

The main question you two had for each other, however, was what?What had you wished for from him? Or what had he wished for from you?

“This is really random, but…” you finally said, peering back at the second year’s now questioning face, heart gradually picking up its pace and beginning to race further than a marathon. “Have you ever felt what it’s like to be kissed by a person yet, Jamil?” 

A droplet of your popsicle then proceeded to slowly drip down the stick keeping it in its place.

“No… I’m afraid not,” Jamil replied, his usual composure still being maintained by his calmness—however, this time, with an increasing shade of pink that could rival the sunset in his cheeks.

“Then…” you stepped closer, making you two only centimeters apart, “Would you like to? Experience it, I mean.”

“I wouldn’t be… opposed to it.”

“Okay then.” You placed a delicate hand to his face just as he had done earlier to you, whispering, “Close your eyes.” At the utterance of your words, you could almost feel the flutter of his eyelashes as they closed shut, the final image being you closer than ever as he subconsciously guided his hand to your waist, engulfing you in warmth you’d take any day rather than the burning of the sun. Your lips quickly found each other, both eager yet unsure, as you slowly led him with every movement. Passionate yet gentle, smooth yet anxious, tender yet desperate—it was as if so little yet so many emotions coursed through yours and his touch alike with each electrifying moment. With the frozen treats now long forgotten, you continued placing slow kisses on Jamil’s lips as the blue and red from your popsicles dripped into the water beneath you. He tasted like strawberries and sweetness, dreams and a plethora of ecstasies.

Lips connected like two pieces of a flustered puzzle just as you raised a hand to run it through the silk locks of your boyfriend’s hair, causing him to lean into your touch, relaxed and satisfied. Was this what it was like to have the upper hand against a partner? To discompose the ever-suave Jamil Viper? You smelled the salt of the water around you, the sweetness of the melting popsicle in your hand, and the familiar scent of home you’d always catch every time you were ever near Jamil. You felt the refreshing chill of the breeze, the waves of water against your feet, and the feeling of him hugging your waist tighter as if you’d disappear the instant he’d ever let you go. Slightly opening your eyes, you saw a line of palm trees swaying with the wind, a pair of love birds flying in circles above you, as well as the relaxed expression of the boy in front of you as you kissed him. 

All things at that instant had just felt… right. Like you were always meant to be here at this exact time, at the exact place.

Perfection as it were in a movie.

“HEY!” The voice of your cat-like friend had then intruded the scene as you and Jamil instantly pulled away from each other, with you lightly touching your lips in a daze and Jamil attempting to recompose himself. “We’re about to head back to the—Wait,” Grim, who was now a couple feet away from you, paused, examining your appearances. “Did you guys get grape popsicles? Where?!” The young creature exclaimed with woe. “I thought they only had two flavors, dammit!”

“Grape?” you asked as a laugh escaped your mouth from your friend’s obvious questions, “Grim, what do you mean? Of course we didn’t have any grape—”

Jamil, however, shot his head up first at Grim’s questions and you second upon hearing your exchange with your familiar as you checked your bodies for any absurdities, immediately suspecting one main culprit.

You looked at Jamil, intently, thinking the same thoughts, “Oh, Sevens, no—”

Purple.

The lips of both you and Jamil, rather than the separate shades of blue and red you expected, were now purple.

a/n: breaking news! writer who has not even held hands with someone romantically attempts to write a kissing scene 🕺 (pls tell me u get why their lips are purple now tho-)

[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Step 16: Vulnerability

Summary: Working at the Weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-workers. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came to Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

It's been a rough two weeks and I craved Larissa comfort. So enjoy! 🦐✨

Tags: @variant-2402 @the-bagel24 @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @kimiinou @muffintopxs @h-doodles @bbykens @lilfartbox1 @bigolgay @winterfireblond @gela123 @i-like-reading @hopelessly-sapphic @alder-saan @im-a-carnivorous-plant @weemssapphic @barbarasstar

(pls let me know if you want to be tagged/ I missed you!)

Chapter 15

Cross Posted on AO3 Here

HWTAHP Masterlist

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Larissa was busy. Which was fine! And understandable considering all the antics Wednesday has been up to recently. Her dedication to finding the monster that had attacked you was sweet, a little insane, but sweet. However, the way in which she was trying to find it was…unorthodox to say the least.

She had asked you almost a hundred different questions about the night you were attacked, not that you remembered much of use anyway. All you could remember was that you were in the woods (how far from the school you didn’t know), you had been crying so hard you hadn’t heard anything and that Marilyn had showed up very shortly after you were attacked…

Which was bothering you for two reasons. One was that if she had been close enough to be there right after you were attacked, why didn’t the monster attack her? Wednesday had hypothesized(her term not yours) that the monster had probably gotten spooked by a second person. It still didn’t sit right with you though.

And the second reason was that you had barely seen Marilyn since you were brought back to Nevermore. She had popped in briefly when you were unpacking to say hi and say she was glad you were doing better and then all but disappeared off the face of the planet. You know the two of you weren’t all that close but you honestly thought you’d at least see her around a bit.

You knew her and Larissa were close, she had told you about the long chats over many glasses of wine and their morning coffees together. And the two of them hadn’t stopped hanging out, not until Larissa went into full crisis(Wednesday) management mode. And it’s not like you spent all your time holes up in your room (anymore, not that Vlad allowed it in the first place). And with all the fucking walking around the Nevermore campus you were doing you really did not understand why you hadn’t seen her at least once.

So you decided you would try and find her today. Partially because, yes, you were lonely. But also because you wanted to thank her properly for saving your life. So you set out to find the funky lil redhead, vowing to yourself that you would find her before the end of the day.

Surprisingly she was in the first place you checked; the greenhouse. This did make you wonder if you were imagining her avoiding you. She was on the phone when you entered. She seemed to be in the middle of a heated argument with someone, hand gesturing wildly as she whisper-yelled at whoever it was she was speaking with. You stood awkwardly at the door, trying to figure out if you should stay or go.

Before you can make a decision the phone call is over and she's angrily sighing and shaking her head. You knock on the closed door behind you, hoping to announce your presence properly before stepping further into the greenhouse. At the sound she turns, rather swiftly. The look on her face goes from proper anger to shock, then to something you can’t name before swinging back around to anger again. You don’t even have a moment to open your mouth before she storms over to you, poking your chest with her finger.

“You! You just- you had to- and now I- UGH!” She groans, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Marilyn…?” You mumble, staring at her, confused as fuck.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t know why I-“ she tries, stopping when her voice cracks.

She looks moments away from bursting into full-blown sobs. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears and her lower lip is trembling. She opens her mouth to speak again but you wrap your arms around her, enveloping the small woman in a hug. She does burst into tears then, hugging you back while burying her face in your neck. You pat her back, doing your best to soothe her.

She calms eventually, her cries dissolving into the occasional hiccup. She takes a step back from you, wiping at her eyes and letting out a shaky breath.

“Sorry..” she smiles, “I don’t-you shouldn’t have had to deal with that I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay. Are you okay though?” You ask.

She nods and sniffs, shooting you what you assume is meant to be a reassuring smile. You smile back at her, squeezing her shoulders.

“I’m fine, I mean I will be fine. Sorry. Is there- can I do anything for you?” She offers.

“I actually just uh wanted to chat to you. And thank you properly for you know saving my life and all.”

“Really you shouldn’t thank me. It was the least I could do…” her face falls for a second before she smiles, “Is there anything else? Sorry, I’ve got uhm-I have to head into town to pick up a plant delivery.”

“Oh…oh no. It’s- no it’s cool! I’ll just- I’ll leave you to it then,” you murmur.

You say your goodbyes, feeling a bit better when Marilyn suggests you get coffee sometime. When you leave the greenhouse you stand dumbly for a bit, trying to figure out what to do now. You figure it would be best to go back to your room. Your mood can’t get that much worse just by vibing in your room.

———

Apparently, it could get worse. Much worse.

As it turns out dissociating in your room actually made you feel so much worse. You had ended up staring blankly at the really nice window you had while thinking back on all the ways life had gotten so fucked in the last few weeks. And then you ended up thinking about how your life had been fucked up the whole time. Which was a super fun little exercise to be doing before a physio session with Vlad.

And really Vlad was so sweet, really. So kind. However you felt like utter shit and he was making you do all these stupid, painful stretches that were making your scars and body ache. Which when combined with your already shit mental state leads to a rather terrible outburst.

“Come on kiddo just a few more of these,” he encourages you.

“I can’t.” You huff, wincing at the pain in your stomach.

“Sure you can kiddo. It’s just three more you got this-“

“No I fucking don’t! So can you just fucking let me breathe?!” You yell.

“Alright, let’s take a breath then-“

“No that’s not going to fucking help! Nothing is going to fucking help because things are just fucking fucked!” You end up kicking the nearest thing which just so happens to be a wall.

Which is how you end up sitting in the infirmary with a fucked foot and a dent in the wall you had taken your frustration out on. Turns out the vampire strength did not save your bones from being obliterated by concrete. The nurse had been very sweet, wrapping your foot and sending you on your way. Vlad had helped you back to your room, not asking any questions and leaving you with a simple ‘call if you need anything.’

And so you lay on your bed, frustrated and angry and hurt. You feel tears welling up in your eyes and get even more frustrated if that’s even possible. Part of you knows you’re just having a bad day, that these feelings will pass and you’ll be okay. But another, louder part of you says this is how things will always be.

That’s how Larissa finds you, laying on your back on your bed, foot wrapped in a lovely bandage, crying your eyes out. She silently takes off her heels, padding over to your bed and sitting herself next to you. She brushes some hair out of your face, smiling down at you.

“I hear you’re going around destroying property.” She hums.

“I’m sorry, I can- I can get it fixed and pay for the damage I-“

“Darling, I’m certain your toe suffered more damage than the wall. And even if you destroyed a wall you would never have to pay for it.” She reassured you, brushing the tears from your cheeks gently. “How’s your foot?”

“It’s fine, I was being ridiculous.” You grumble.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she frowns, “do you want to talk about it?”

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to keep the tears from falling. You shrug, biting your lip as you sniffle.

“It’s fine I’m-I’ll be fine,” you croak.

“Talk to me darling,” she murmurs.

“I…” you try, not really sure where to start, “I don’t know I’m just…I just feel like- I just- everything is so overwhelming at the moment. I just- I feel like I’m drowning.”

Larissa taps your arm, gesturing for you to sit up. You do, a bit confused. You feel your heart melt when she shuffles behind you, pulling you to lie back against her. She wraps her arms around your stomach, squeezing you gently and pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

“Go on sweetheart,” she murmurs.

“I just-my whole life has been like flipped upside down. I mean I-I almost fucking died and-and then oh no wait I didn’t because it turns out I’m a vampire! Which is- I mean it’s really cool! And I’m not- I’m not upset or anything but…but my parents hid it from me my- my whole life and I-how am I supposed to feel about that? And my father is all high and mighty about it, pulling the ‘I was doing what was best for the family’ crap. And I can’t even fucking ask my mom about it because she’s-“

Your crying restarts in earnest then. You hide your face in your hands. Larissa holds you tighter, whispering soothing gentle words into your hair. She doesn’t ask any questions, simply holds you as you cry and reassures you that everything will be alright. It’s nice that you can just be with her, that she doesn’t expect anything from you. When you’ve calmed enough to speak again you continue.

“I can’t ask her about it because she’s dead. And she’s been dead for years and it still. I mean I went to therapy for it at the time. And I-it helped. But I-I keep wondering if- if she knew? If she- I mean she probably helped keep it a secret from me but…did she feel the way my dad does? Did she hate who I am too? Would she think I’m a monster?”

You sink further into Larissa’s embrace, grasping her hands with with of yours as you breathe shakily. She shuffles a bit, squeezing you again before she speaks.

“Your father is an idiot and a bastard for the way he treated you,” she whispers, “and I never knew your mother, so I won’t claim to know how she would feel. However, I do know you. And you are one of the kindest, most accepting, most lovely people I’ve ever met in my life. You’re always looking out for others, you’re always trying to help people. There’s nothing even remotely monstrous about you, my love.”

“You thought I was a monster though…” you mumble, bracing yourself for anger.

“I did,” she sighs shakily, resting her chin on your head, “and I-I can’t apologize enough for that. I need you to know that what I said, had nothing to do with who you are. I was-I took out my anger and fear on you. You’re not-there is absolutely nothing monstrous about you darling. And I will spend every moment of every day for the rest of my life trying to show you that.”

Your breath hitches at the sincerity in her voice. You awkwardly manoeuvre yourself to sit sideways between her legs, your foot preventing you from turning around completely. You stare up at her from where your head is resting against her arm, pouting and probably looking like a mess. But Larissa just smiles down at you, her face filled with so much love and adoration you feel the weight on your chest ease a little.

“I’m sorry-“ you start only to be interrupted when Larissa presses a finger to your lips.

“None of that now,” she chides, “you don’t need to apologize for feeling things. I’m so- I cannot express how much it means to me that you shared that with me. I know that one conversation isn’t going to solve your problems, but I promise I’ll be here for you whenever you need me. You know you can call me whenever you need alright?”

“But what if you’re busy I don’t want to bother you…”

“Nothing is more important than you darling.”

She says it with so much authority and sincerity that you genuinely forget how to breathe for a moment. She brushes a few more tears from your cheeks before kissing your forehead. It’s a bit awkward with the way you’re positioned. She chuckles at the noise of protest you let out when she adjusts the way she’s sitting.

“How about we go back to my quarters, get changed into more comfortable clothes and order some takeout? How does that sound darling?” She suggests.

“I-you don’t have to go through so much trouble for me Rissa.”

“I know I don’t. How about you let me anyway?” She grins.

Honestly, you don’t know what to say to that, and her cute grin makes your brain malfunction. So you nod up at her, your face flushing as she escorts you to her room.

And as you sit cuddled up to her later that evening, with her tracing abstract shapes on your arms, you truly feel like everything will be okay.

[muldermuse]

Your first date? Or your first time with fox mulder 👀👀

Thank you for sending this through!!! I hope it's ok <3

If u have any ideas for Fox Mulder fics/headcanons/aus anything pls send them throuuuuuuugh. I will be forever grateful <3

He’s nervous, Scully has been giving him sly looks throughout the day as he’s been trying his hardest to keep it together. The day has been littered with small mistakes, starting with accidentally throwing his takeaway coffee in the trash to biting his pen and not realising the blue ink had covered his shirt with soaking blotches. He tried to ignore the superstitious voice in his head telling him that the day (and your first date) was determined to go badly. 

He asked you out on a date the third time he met you, initially the date was planned to be that week, however, a bout of sickness had made you bed bound. You called to apologise and rescheduled for the same date next week, unfortunately, Fox had a case that had taken him out of town. He called you from his crappy motel; his stomach filled with knots at the thought of letting you down. 

Your fingers twisted around the phone cord as you laid on your bed sheet. “You know, I’ve heard some pretty good date cancelling excuses. But travelling to Minnesota to catch a demonic stray dog i-“

He interrupted, “I think you mean, potential werewolf sighting” 

His voice made you blush, it always did, you felt the warmth rise up your chest. “Well, I know that Scully thinks it’s something along the stray dog lines.”

He smiled, you made him feel less alone, even in this dusty motel room hundreds of miles away from you- you were making him smile. “I am really sorry to cancel, I’m back on Sunday. I’ll pick you from the apartment at 2?”

***

So, it’s the third attempt at a first date and he’s nervous. He parked outside your apartment at 1:30 and had been building up the courage to go in. He knew that 30 minutes was too early, at 1:40 he thought he may as well wait for ten more minutes. However, at 1:42, he made his way up to your door. He had your coffee order, a pastry and a bunch of lilies gripped nervously in his hand. He thinks about knocking on your door, or should he ring the bell? Before he has time to consider each option more critically, the door opens and there you are. 

You take his breath away.

He knows that you’d class what you’re wearing as nothing special, but to him you look incredible as always. You’re slightly more made up than usual, your eye lids dusted with a muted brown and your mascara making your lashes look even longer. Your lip liner and lip gloss combo enhances your mouth and all he can think about in that moment is kissing you. Your hair is down and behind your shoulders; you smile awkwardly at him. 

“Oh my god, please tell me I look okay! I’ve spent ages deciding what to wear, at first I chose a dress but then I thought it might be too much and then I de-“. He could tell you were panicked and nervous; just the same as him. He held your hand as he gently pressed a kiss to your cheek, taking in the sweet smell of your perfume as he said with as much confidence as he could muster, “you look amazing. I’m looking forward to spending the day with you.” 

The date is a walk around the park near your apartment, then a trip to a book store which Fox always talks about and then a late lunch at a restaurant you’ve talked about extensively. You’ve been looking forward to it as much as he has. Your previous dates have usually started at 7pm and you’ve been emotionally checked out, or repulsed, by half past.

On the walk, you found out more about his work and how much his career meant to him. He asked you about your job and your future dreams. You noticed that he smiled throughout, looking at you with a grin on his face as he heard you talk about where you wanted to be in five years. In the bookstore, you realised how similar you were as you perused the endless aisles. Seemingly every book you went to pick up he had read or had at home on his shelf. 

“I have most of the ones you’re interested in, you could always come round and choose some.” 

“Fox, if that’s a way to get me into your apartment and to see your water bed- I swear”. A smirk crossed his face as a red tinge covered his cheeks,

“I mean- can you blame me for trying?”

As you both got more comfortable throughout the date, you noticed both yourself and Fox becoming more flirty with each other. You’d hold his arm when he made you giggle, he’d blush when you got closer to him and he’d intertwine your fingers with his in quiet moments.

***

The restaurant was quietening down, it was the liminal zone between the lunch rush and early diners. The candles were lit on each table despite the sun shining outside, only around a quarter of the tables were full as soft music played. All of a sudden, you seemed to remember that you were on a date with the person you have a crush on and you felt a pang of anxiety hit you. Fox seemed oblivious to your rising nerves as he idly chatted through the menu and ordering water for the table. 

He looked so so good today. His hair was perfectly off his face and his smile seemed brighter than it ever had before. Before your thoughts could spiral more about your sudden prick of nervousness, you felt his warm hand cover yours and quell your ill feelings in an instant. His touch grounded you back to the moment. “I’m going to get a bottle of white, is that okay? We can get soda as well if you’d like”.

You moved your hand to hold his fingers with a squeeze, “White is great, thank you”. With his soft eyes and sweet smile in front of you, the nerves seemingly dissipated from your body and you felt a blush creeping up your chest. This was the best date you’d ever been on and you knew in that moment that you had to let him know.

You got a main each and then shared a dessert. The wine was going down easily and you were on your second bottle with no intentions to get a third. The alcohol was coursing through your veins which resulted in a permanent smile being on your face. 

“You know” he swiped his spoon through the caramel chocolate mousse in front of you, “you’ve been smiling at me for the past twenty minutes”. He put the spoon in his mouth and winked at you.

“Maybe I’m having a really good time,” you picked up your wine glass and sipped the remaining liquid, “or, maybe it’s the wine.”

He threw his head back with a laugh, “It’s definitely the first one.”

The bill arrived and Fox paid before you could argue, you made a mental note to pay for the second date. The sun was setting as you left the restaurant and before you could step further outside, Fox held your hand tightly in his.

***

“So, this is me…” The conversation had continued to flow as you walked back to your apartment, you took the long route to prolong the time you could spend with him. You both awkwardly stood in front of your front door. Neither of you wanted this night to end. You could invite him inside for a coffee, you could say that your bedroom light was flickering and you would like him to take a look at it. You couldn't end it without a big move and with the liquid courage still in your body; you pressed your lips to his. 

You brought your hands up to cup his face as you kissed him. His nose nudged against yours as his hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer to him as you felt him smile against your lips. The taste of chocolate and sweet caramel still lingered on his lips. His forehead touched yours as your fingers interlocked at the nape of his neck. He looked at you with a hunger in his eyes, wordlessly you held his hand as you unlocked your front door and dragged him inside.

“Third times the charm, I guess” He laughed as you locked the door.

[nighthaterfrfr]

i don't bite (well, maybe that's a lie)

[it rotted my brain so much that i couldnt resist. thank u @jben073 for helpin me w the ending, my writing still sucks but wtvr... look lets make it modern bc im not doing research on old shit. my brains small so i dont wanna make it smaller. @wispexists made this beautiful art, check it pls pls pls its so good

anwho here it is

OH TW FOR BLOOD BEFORE I FORGET (vampire.. duh) ]

People's blood is a very sacred thing. In many religions, it's often considered the life of a human. Yet, it's something vampires need for sustenance. Most consider vegan diets, and some just become full on killers when too unregulated.

Stephanie Lauter is unfortunately, a vampire. From what she overhears, her dad made some deal with eldritch gods, and that's why she's here. Solomon Lauter hates his daughter, but she hates him back too. However, to not expose this secret to the public, he helps get Steph's cravings in check by supplying her with animal blood.

Yet, it's never a filling meal. She hasn't had a proper, enriching, bit of human blood in such a long time. Not since middle school. But never in a million years did she expect to drink the blood of the pastor's daughter, Grace Chasity.

Nor did she expect how delicious the blood would be.

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Every other day, Steph spends her nights at the old Waylon Hall. Hearing all the rumors about the place, it doesn't seem so bad. It's just really fucking abandoned and creepy. Nonetheless, a few candles and fairy lights powered by battery packs make the house look a lot less evil.

This night, she decided to bring more and more of her belongings into the living room. Yeesh, it's a damn mess. She swept the floor with an old broom she found in a janitorial closet, suited most likely for a maid. The more Steph cleaned up the hall, the more she liked that it became kind of her own hideaway. A very eerie home away from home.

After a few hours of just generally cleaning and decorating the main room, she smiled. For once her life, Stephanie Lauter had made something she was proud of. How fun.

Suddenly, she heard an opening from the front door.

For the months she had spent going here, no one had dare even approach the Hall's grounds. So who the fuck seems brave enough to wander in the most "haunted" place in all of Hatchetfield?

Who the fuck..

Steph had hid in some big closet in the room, and took a look at the girl trespassing in her space. In which she was also trespassing in. The girl wore a light blue sweater and a white button up underneath. She wore a brown skirt, white socks and Black Mary Janes. She had rolled up the sleeves of both the button up and the sweater and had her hair in a side part.

Look, she was already in a silk dress meant for sleeping, and she did not want to be disturbed by some girl. However, something just... attracted her. Steph sniffed something good. Better than the "wagyu cow blood" her dad ended up getting to satisfy the urges. Shit, this came from the girl, didn't it?

God- it smelled so good. That feeling of hunger filled Steph's mind and triggered her vampiristic instincts. She need to feed, fast.

As the girl turned her back, Steph quietly came out of the closet she was hiding him. Walking towards the back of her, she saw that her neck was wide open. Thank god for people parting their hair sideways. As she was about to feed, she snapped back to reality, wobbling back and falling on the floor. Of course, the girl turned around, and looked right at Steph.

"Oh my- who are you? What are you doing out here so late?"

The girl put a hand out, and Steph took it. She quickly responded, "I suppose I could ask you the same question, but I don't think I'll get an answer. I'm Steph." "Grace. My father and I were seeing the house earlier, and I left my 'What Would Jesus Do?' bracelet here." Steph nodded as her eyes are remained on Grace's neck and forearms. They sure do look appealing.

Grace yawned, and ended up sitting on the floor. Steph had already placed some sort of old mattress on there, and simply covered with a bedsheet. "Man, I gotta bike back..." Steph looked at the girl while she complained, and smirked slightly. With an alluring look in her eyes, she turned Grace's head to look at her. "Ah, it's alright. Rest here for a bit, I won't bite."

Grace looked nervous at the offer. She had to go home, she wanted to go home. Yet, this girl... Steph, she just drew her in. Before she knew it, her mouth muttered the words yes, and the two kept on staring at each other. "Now Grace, I have to ask you a question. Do you know anything about vampires and the like?"

"...no? If it's some kind of like, band fans, then I have no idea about them."

Steph looked shocked at this admission, and tried to think through how she'll phrase this properly. In order to charm a human properly, you first need a good approach, don't you?

"Ok then. A vampire is.. a creature who preys on human blood. They usually hate the sunlight, garlic, and silver. Got it?" Grace nodded. "I do. How come you're telling me this?" "Will you believe me if I say that I am a vampire?"

Grace looked confused at the question. Was this girl playing some kind of cruel trick with her? But, like God commanded, answer truthfully. "Why would I? You sound kind of insane right now." Steph smirked, opening her mouth and baring her fangs. They're way too sharp and long to be just a regular humans, and she put her hair back behind her pointed, pierced ears. Grace looked a bit scared, she's never seen a person like this, but regardless, she wanted to know more.

Something keeps telling her she wants to know more.

"And look, Grace. I'm quite hungry right now. Would you mind if I.. just got a bit of your blood~?"

Steph asked, leaning closer towards Grace. The closer she got, the redder the other girl's face was. She then pushed her away slightly, hesitance in her voice. "I... I don't- will it hurt?" "Probably, Gracie. Do you want me to comfort your boo boo, then?" Grace blushed even more, unsure what this feeling is towards the mysterious girl and confused as to what's happening.

Look, Grace had some strong willpower. That's what you have when your dad's the town pastor, after all. However, when she offered her arm to Steph, who's presumably a "vampire," that might be the complete opposite fact. "Go- just take what you need..."

The vampire widened her eyes. From stories she's heard, people need a lot more convincing. But this pretty girl just offers up her arm and blood? Hey, at least it was easy to get a meal for Steph today.

She took Grace's arm gently, placing it near her mouth. Jesus, the smell of the blood really came out. Her mouth almost watered at simply the smell, but why sniff it instead of tasting it?

Steph's fang suck into the arm, Grace wincing slightly from the pain. As she sucked the blood, she couldn't believe the taste. She couldn't believe how energized she was. And she couldn't believe how insatiable the feeling was from getting this girl's blood was.

Grace watched as Steph sucked the blood out of her arm. It was a bit painful, but is it weird to say it somehow made her extremely tired and excited? She could see her blood dripping down her arm as Steph eagerly feasting on her. It's scary, but it's somehow so attractive at the same time. She could easily pull away- it's not even like she's forcing her too.

It's just that... the feeling in her stomach that she gets from simply seeing this girl means letting Steph doing whatever she wanted. After a few minutes of silence and blood sucking, Steph lifted her head from Grace's forearm, wiping the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.

As Grace slowly put her arm down, Steph looked at her, longingly and hungry for more. Steph quietly said, "Do you- do you feel ok? Are you too hurt?" The other girl nodded no, and Steph stood up, walking around the room. On top of the fireplace, she rummaged through a little box and found a roll of bandages. Tearing a long piece of it off with her teeth, Steph began to tightly wrap the fabric onto Grace's forearm.

The feeling of Steph wrapping her arm with the bandage, hell the feeling of the wound itself? It all felt numb. Grace Chasity couldn't feel anything ever since Stephanie Lauter sucked her blood. All she knows is that it felt so damn good.

Finally tying the bandage off, Steph leaned back from Grace, letting her sit up. "Alright, let's see.." Steph stared into her eyes, rolling down both the button up and sweater sleeves, covering both of her arms. She stood up, offering a hand out to Grace so that she can also stand up beside her, "Now, I'm sorry pretty girl, but you can't remember this.. for a while. However," Steph paused for a second, twirling a big strand of Grace's hair.

"I have a feeling we'll meet again, won't we? You're of course, drawn to me, but somehow I am too. Even without drinking your blood, something intrigues me about you, Grace. Come back here next time, won't you~?"

As she let go of the other girl's hair, Grace simply smiled and started walking out. Steph hated the charm ability vampires had as she saw the girl leave. Sure, it benefits both her and the person who she charmed because now whoever she targets will have no recollection of what she's done. Yet, something about Grace made her want to have her remember tonight. She wanted Grace to recognize her face and know who left that mark on her forearm. Oh well, what can a girl like her do?

Sighing and lying on the mattress, she closes her eyes. That was good, no, great blood. That's settled. Great blood comes from the prettiest people. Who knew?

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

Grace Chasity woke up the next day, in her bed and feeling somewhat extra tired. It was.. 2 in the afternoon? Huh. As she stood up and walked to the bathroom, she looked in the mirror. She didn't change at all from when she came back home yesterday from school. Thank goodness it was a Saturday, or else she would've gotten in big trouble with her parents.

As she turned on the faucet, she rolled up her sleeves so that the water wouldn't soak the fabric. The more she rolled her sleeves up, the more she saw that on her right arm, bandages tightly covered her forearm. Well that's.. odd.

Stopping for a minute, she pondered over how she got the bandage on her wrist. Staring at the blood covered and hastily wrapped fabric, Grace shook it off and began to start washing her face.

Eh, she must've fell while riding her bike.

[borderlinebelle]

Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me the honor to present to you,

1. The Situationship 👀

2. Breaking the 3rd Wall: tumblr advertisements (zee blaze)

3. I am soft. Pls be nice.

a modern day haiku

😬🤧😩

🤡🤐😮‍💨🥴😐

😫👀👅😛😅🤫😮‍💨

Hear more about this and all the sordid details of my daily ugly American lower lowest middle class life on my live stream in hell -absolute tumblr live shitshack. On tumblr live yeah. i said it. Hear me out? It’s an ad for tumblr live. It’s a makeshift made with my own two tiny hands advertisement. That’s what blaze is. It’s lame ass adz because I would like for people to see my content and to maybe join ME sometime on LIVE content. Streaming is a real thing on other sites. Like damn the staff are not going to keep tumblr live for ME so can I just .. it’s so nice to meet mutuals VIA VIDEO CHAT!!!! AND MAYBE ITS CRINGEY AND HIDEOUS BUT GOD WE HAVE BECOME SO CYNICAL AND MEAN ON TUMBLR. Remember letting other people literally just have a good time and vibe and uplift each other? So yeah I paid .. maybe Iike 50$ to blaze this. I did it. And I literally live paycheck to paycheck. JUST to reach this across the intergalactic highway of tumblr to say,

Hi. Please check out my blog. I am a writer, a photographer, a character, a live streamer.

and yeah maybe tumblr live is the WORST place to start a career streaming because we hate EVERY SINGLE CHANGE TUMBLR HAS MADE OVER THE LAST … 15 years I’ve been here 😏 it’s good for us to collectively hate tumblr and I do but I also LOVE it here. Tumblr has always = home for me. Sooooo here’s my little shit blog. Please watch my live streams or not that’s cool too. Please like or reblog this. Maybe Venmo me $1 so so I can pay back what I spent on this ad AND not fail at capitalism and die in the gutter. It is black history month and you KNOW 🤧 it is not easy to get our content pushed on other platforms. Venmo @tinybelleoleary🤭🤷🏽‍♀️

This is so so long idk are long post texts 100% dead can we revive that form of content consumption?

Pls if you hate this just keep scrolling.. like ripping apart strangers who are oppressed in the same systems you are online, often anonymously, is so wicked cool and just jazzle dazzle me with vicious visceral words to “get your point across” but i actually cry wicked easily and I’m not a strong black woman .. I’m the other kind, the soft tiny frail weak one. My home is so delicate you’d cry in soft pink blankets and fuzzy slippers. Pass me by pls. Thx.

I also want to bring back .. magazines? But maybe biodegradable? Idk let me workshop it.

I’ll be unboxing tumblr merch I bought while manic and unable to sleep the other night… 🤧🤫🤷🏽‍♀️🤭 Will I make the rent? Maybe but I’m doing my best. Thx.

[loserchildhotpants]

gonna cross-post this on ao3 w my other tumblr prompt fics soon i swear and now i can’t find the post but someone posited a long time ago on here that we should’ve gotten a chance to see a widower!cas arc and anyway, here’s the first part

this is a replacement/re-do of Amara’s ‘gift’ to Dean when he goes to sacrifice himself pls enjoy

(im gonna reblog this original post w the updates as i add onto it so if u want the continuation, check the notes)

Windows

(Part One)

Once Sam is inebriated enough to slip into dreamless sleep, Castiel gently lays Sam’s tear-stained face against his pillow, and tucks him in as he believes humans prefer. He thinks he does it correctly, because Sam doesn’t fuss or move much afterward.

Castiel knows Sam is deeply exhausted.

The evening was spent celebrating the destruction of Amara, the saving of the world, but mostly it was spent mourning Dean, and Castiel drank with Sam so as not to force Sam to drink alone (as is socially unacceptable for reasons Castiel still struggles to understand), but he is in no way inebriated. 

Castiel considers watching over Sam as he sleeps, monitor his dreams to see to it that he sleeps peacefully, just as a task to keep himself preoccupied, but he thinks to himself that Sam is of a similar mind to Dean, and Dean never wanted to be watched over. 

At least, not by Castiel.

When Castiel shuts Sam’s bedroom door behind him, he wonders what to do with himself.

There are many things to do, he supposes. He has been tasked with seeing after Sam, and that guardianship was not passed down to him lightly. He takes it very seriously, and internally, he has already accepted his eternal loneliness on Earth, guarding over whatever bloodline Sam extends, on and on until there is no Winchester of this blood for him to look after.

The first task that had come to mind when he returned to the bunker with Sam was to seek out Dean in Heaven, but Castiel cannot access the Host, and even so, he cannot sense Dean anywhere near it. 

He isn’t concerned that Dean is in Hell or Purgatory – he’s concerned Dean’s soul has been destroyed.

Even now, Castiel extends his limbs of light out into the universe, to its furthest edges, he can see where no light has ever touched or ever will touch, and still – he cannot sense Dean.

Dean is lost to him, wholly and completely. 

Stiltedly, he walks down the hall, falters near Dean’s bedroom door, pauses, considers, but carries on until he gets outside.

The night is cool and quiet, even the smallest creatures of the Earth are sitting shiva with him.

Still, he has never felt so alone, and this despair sloughs off him, sickening the ground, permeating the sky.

The unpaved road splinters where he steps, the night sky is overcome by shadow, sharp winds begin to build speed, and flashing lightning strikes.

He walks and walks, the ground trembles in fear beneath him, parting like the Red Sea, tears build in his human eyes as his ethereal eyes search across planes and waves for any sign of Dean.

There are none.

This is my fault, Castiel continues to berate himself with this mantra that has been tattooed across his mind all day, this is my fault. You would be here, were it not for me. I’ve failed you. I’ve only ever failed you. Why did you not let me come with you? I would have preferred the destruction of myself than to know existence without you.

Walking the Earth without Dean somewhere within it is so instantly abhorrent and unnatural. 

Castiel doesn’t know why he’s walking, only that he must move, he must stay in motion or he will become something truly terrible, something horrible and nameless and evil will overtake him. 

He walks as he might through a desert, as he has been ordained to by a power he does not know.

He walks all night, the storm above and around him fells trees, ruins roads and footpaths, animals flee from the field of energy he emanates, and eventually he finds himself atop a hill of thin, wild grass that shivers all around him. 

Standing in place, Castiel searches the barren world around him, casting his eyes far and wide, despite knowing he will find nothing, because he has found nothing across realms and planes and vibrations all night.

He thinks he hears Dean’s laughter, but it is only the rumbling of thunder Castiel’s mood has conjured some clicks to the West.

He scowls up at the sky; scowls at his own unmasking.

He thinks of how he has felt when Dean has smiled at him, he worries that his memory is false, that it cannot capture the authentic beauty of the real thing, and a smothering warmth hits him, but it’s not coming from within.

He looks over his shoulder and there – beyond the storm, the Sun dares to rise, and the first tendrils of light are slipping past the horizon, brazen enough to reach toward him like they have any right.

Enraged, he turns to the Sun and extends both his hands, pushing down and back.

Expending this kind of effort means that his wings materialize, so do many hundreds of his eyes, because he cannot keep them contained; his innate holy light bursts and burns from beneath his human skin in a way that would turn any on-lookers to pillars of salt. Mercifully, he is alone for many miles in all directions.

His power effects the nature around him and the grass around him grows rapidly, twisting like vines, shifting and changing into something that is not meadow grass anymore; a crevasse cracks open along the ground like a jagged road leading from the toe of Castiel’s Oxford to the tip of the horizon.

Some of the plants surrounding him turn to glass and shatter, some melt, some turn into winged things, taking off into the storm that gathers above him.

The Sun pushes back on him so hard that his feet leave skids in the dirt where he’s dug in his heels, and he roars under the strain.

“Enough!” he screams in a thousand voices, all booming and terrible with might, “he isn’t here! He isn’t here and so you will not cast light! Get thee behind me!”

Tears stream down his human face, but all of his many eyes weep as well, sparking fires where their tears land, casting purple, blue, and white flames; some fall to the Earth as diamonds and pearls, skittering across the soil, hurriedly tucking themselves below and sprouting up ghost orchids, twisting vines and balls of lightning crackling up toward the sky.

“Gnay ge mir ol!” Castiel cries, booming as war drums, but stars have never understood Enochian, “do not torment me! You are an offense! What can you do but bear witness and draw into abominable light a world that can never be home to me! He is gone from me! Tia i abiit lrasd ol! Please!”

The ground shudders, and though Castiel can hold it back for perhaps half a minute, the Sun does climb again, stronger than him, and more dutiful than he ever could be.

Unlike him, the Sun was crafted with perfection, and does not fail.

It bursts over the horizon, and Castiel staggers back.

He gasps with a thousand pains, unaware he could hurt in so many ways at once, and he falls to his knees, folding until he is bent over his knees; his fists are in the dirt he’s made muddy with a plague of blood, he turns his hands out so he can hide his face in them and he screams with his true voice into his human hands and into the bleeding Earth.

He weeps, his six wings flap in tandem, putting out the fires all at once, and then they fold and drape over him, hiding him; the Sun beats back his storm, pushes light unto the world where he has been pulling a mourning shroud over it.

He grips hard at his fringe, cries as an animal does, wounded noises he has never before made or heard come from him; he makes them, some loud, some soft, for a long stretch of time, but eventually, he calms.

In time, he finds himself lying in the miracle-laden grass, covered in oil, blood, and ash for some reason. He can’t recall where the ash may be from. He has been unjust, and so he will remain so, he believes, and he is filthy now, and so filthy he will remain. 

Was he ever righteous? Was he ever holy?

Whatever he is, the last of it is clear – he is not Saved. 

That much has never been more evident than it is now.

“Time should not pass,” he says to no one, in a flat, tired, singular voice, “I am weary and burdened, and what redeemed me has been taken from me. There is nothing left for me but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. There is no mercy in this. Have I truly done such evil, to be deserving of this?”

He knows no one will answer. No one ever does.

He thinks of the color of Dean’s eyes, mossy, hazel, how the curl of his lashes framed them, how expressive they were, how they shone with lights enough to lead him home.

“I thought, for a time, I may find peace. With him. Eventually. But peace is not for me, is it? I am a sword, and all I bring with me is ruin.”

His many eyes and wings are tucked into another plane, he comes to his knees again, tilts his face toward the Sun, and the light dries his tears. That star pities him.

Exhausted, he stands; he casts his open palm over the ground most affected by him, and his mismatched, wayward miracles clear away, leaving unremarkable Earth.

As he walks back to the bunker, he seals the cracks in the roads and paths, deer and birds and wildlife return to their joy and lives, and by the time he is presentable and sat in the kitchen, Sam is just waking.

[welkinsky]

Can you pls do a jealous naruto?

A/N: This idea is so cute because the though of it makes me giggle because I can see him doing some innocently dumb things if he's jealous hheheh. Sorry for the delay but here it it!

Naruto Uzumaki X Reader | Jealous Naruto

So it all started when you were asked to move to the sand village for a long mission that might last up to an year.

You both have been dating for a few months now and just when both of you got a hang of being in a functional relationship and each other's schedules, this happened.

The man work hard and it was something that did bother you because one, you wanted him to not overwork himself each day and two, because you wanted to spend more time with him.

But then you both made a few compromises and settle in middle and just then you were assigned for the mission with Kiba.

Which did hit a nerve in him. Kiba was his competition since the very beginning to get your attention. But now that you were going out on a mission alone with him it really put him in an insecure position.

At first he was whiney and asked if you can select someone else. Oblivious to all this competition you were super confused as to why he was acting so weird. Weren't these two close friends or something?

They were, but not when it comes to you. And you were oblivious to this.

And what didn't helped was the fact that Kiba was also looking forward to this opportunity and didn't even spare a minute to rub it in Naruto's face, as soon as Kiba got to know about the mission.

Naruto tried everything, without you knowing of course, to either get you off of the mission or to be on it as well.

But considering how Akatsuki were out there he never got the permission to do so. And time came and you left. It all happened so quickly and he never felt so helpless.

He didn't even explained this all to you as it will imply that he doesn't trust you, which wasn't the case at all. But since you knew something was up you pushed him to fess up ultimately.

He randomly showed up one day and it felt to you like he missed Kiba more than you with the amount of time they both spent together, you were happy to see him having such good friends when then both were actually bickering the entire time.

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

Thanks For Reading and for the ask! You can send new ones too if you liked this.

If you liked it you can check out the masterlist too!

A-Z Headcanon

[tinyteaberry]

A Midnight Winter's Grace

After months of letting it collect dust I finally made the final tweaks and got to posting this!

sandtorre fans pls interact ily hi <3

❅   ❅   ❅

Frigid, numbing, and haughty, Snezhnaya’s usual gusts of icy snow fell swiftly and with purpose; A picture-perfect reflection of the land’s fearsome Archon and her rule. As her faithful Marionette, this brought a smile to Sandrone’s lips. She allowed the lids of her eyes to flutter shut for a moment as she sipped a hot drink to combat the rooms' harsh cold nipping at her fingertips. Nothing she was anything close to unused to, naturally, but it wasn't something she had grown terribly fond of tolerating for too long either way.

The woman was currently observing the outdoors from a large window in the library. Although normally at this time of day she would like to be near her creations, as it so happened today, the shipment of needed parts in which she had been expecting was unfortunately to run late due to the storm. She had scoffed upon hearing the news, finding it ridiculous that something like a mere blizzard was enough to delay something of such importance- She figured she might even have to have a word with whoever decided such a thing; This was Schneznaya, some snow was far from some obstacle the locals were unfamiliar with. 

And so to her dismay, Sandrone had settled on spending her day in the library. She would never let an opportunity for some research to go to waste; It wasn’t often where she had some extra, albeit unplanned and firstly unwanted, time on her hands, after all. There was a multitude of books she had been meaning to get her glove-clad hands on recently, and she was going to find them today whether the universe had other plans or not. The woman wasn’t about to let any more unexpected hindrances get in her way tonight. 

Or, so she had thought.

 After finishing her drink, she had begun her search for the particular books in which she planned to read, only to find the last one on the list was nowhere in the library to be found. This brought a scowl to her face; It would have been a considerable shock to any passerby, as the Marionette normally wore such a demure expression. She huffed, and her fists balled so tightly her knuckles began to resemble the color of the falling snow outside. 

Plans ruined once again by something out of her control, Sandrone simply wouldn’t have it. After a bit of searching, she found the record of the recent library visitors that also listed which books they had recently checked out, if any, and by whom. Her eyes scanned the paper, eagerly, ready and preparing to track down whoever necessary- And just like that, Aha! There it was. 

“Of course. How fitting of him to spoil my night in such a way.” 

The guilty culprit was none other than the Harbinger’s own Doctor. The Marionette smirked to herself in turn; She’d have little trouble finding him. The very notion made her chuckle,, as that was much more than most ordinary people could say.  

Besides being naturally quite tricky and elusive in nature, he also had all those clones of his scattered all over Teyvat, which made finding him all the more a demanding task for anyone of average status. But, lucky for her, that wasn’t the case. Being a fellow one of the 11 had its certain perks, so simply finding another  member’s precise whereabouts was anything but a chore to her. Her confidence even escalated so high, that she  highly doubted she would somehow run into the incorrect segment either, even with the events of Rosalyne’s funeral having been considered. For anybody with an intellect of a level comparable to herself, the possibility of it happening was still rather low. 

Now she collected her thoughts, and ordered the Automaton beside her carry the books that  had been acquired thus far to her private chamber. At last, the Marionette exited the library in search of the infamous 2nd Harbinger.

___

And so, Sandrone spent her afternoon wandering the twisting and turning  hallways, and all the different rooms of the Fatui’s headquarters, chuckling to herself all the while. Perhaps he was in the lounge, the dining hall, or maybe even her very own workshop? She continued on, only occasionally stopping to peer through a frosty window, in the  She considered checking the laboratory, but she figured that would be far too obvious of a hiding spot; Anybody with half a brain knew the Doctor was far too sharp to even consider holding refuge in there after what he’d done- she’d find him instantaneously, and that would be that. Besides, who knew what kind of mess he had left in there; Truthfully, she didn’t really care to find out at the present moment. It wasn’t due to any sort of uncomfort or unfamiliarity with any type of open wounds or mutilation, far from it. She could hardly care less about such things, but who knew what other  sort of activities he had going on in there, anyways. Sandrone didn’t quite feel like walking in and immediately being begged to let somebody free of their constraints or to just be killed as to end their misery caused by the man. 

So, she avoided that room like a plague, along with any others she deemed would be a waste of precious and fleeting time to search through. 

Eventually, this landed her in the grand hall, a space which was often used as a ballroom to host exquisite parties, sometimes even held by the very Tsaritsa herself- always, they were filled to the very brim with maidens in flowing dresses, exchanging gossip from around the nations whilst sipping colorful drinks, and gentlemen nodding to one another while making idle conversation. The Harbingers themselves were of course the most memorable part of any gathering held there, that was when any did attend. As busy as their schedules were however, disregarding a request from the Tsaritsa was absolutely unheard of, and so they would always clear their schedule for that day and grace the room with their illustrious presence whenever asked.

Without any celebration of sorts going on though, the room was undecorated and bare. Though not completely of course; But at the very least, currently, it was much more of a plain sight than it could have been. Not to say it was ordinary on its own, quite the opposite. The chandeliers sparkled in both daylight and evening time, the walls were adorned with paintings from the most skilled artists across all of Teyvat, vases from the best potters, beautifully carved figures from the utmost talented sculptors- many of them featuring the very Cryo Archon as their theme and point of inspiration. Sandrone’s gaze softened as she drank in the familiar view, breathing in a relieved sigh, before she finally spoke:

“I know you’ve been following me, Doctor.” 

She whipped around at once, smile never fading as she seemed to catch him by surprise- A rare thing not many could say they’ve done. Unfortunately, the better half of his face was still covered by his mask, so she wasn’t able to enjoy the shock in his eyes or the concern in his brow- But no matter, she finally had him where she wanted. 

Dottore composed himself immediately upon realizing the Marionette was staring, not quite feeling up to giving her the satisfaction of knowing she had won this little game of his. How long had she known he was on her heels? Had she just not said anything until now? Surely she was going to call him out on it sooner, right..? 

He scowled to himself, there was nothing he despised quite so much as being beaten as his own competition- if one could call it that. Most would see this as just plain stalking, which was something he usually quite excelled at.

 But alas, no matter what one chose to call this odd little charade, what angle in which it was viewed, or whatever prescription of rose-tinted glasses one looked through, he would always be in the losing position.

 He grumbled a bit before looking at the woman before him again, waiting for her to speak once more.

The aforementioned lady held out a gloved hand, face remaining in the same satisfied expression as it had been the entirety of their interaction. He could tell she was mocking him, that she had every idea of what she was doing to him and his ego, which naturally angered him even more. It was embarrassing enough he was caught in the act, but she was just spilling salt into the already skin-deep wound- and  he could tell she was quite proud of it, too. 

Then at last, her voice again echoed in the corridor:

“The book please, dear Doctor.” 

He blinked, both out of surprise from hearing the nickname and for her simple request. Not that he hadn’t taken the book on purpose, that was the entire scheme of the day- but for a moment, only a moment, he had somehow managed to have forgotten  about it. 

In that one moment, she took advantage and made her move. 

She kept a small dagger in a pocket inside of her large jacket, and she swiftly took hold of its handle and aimed it at his left side. She managed to cut through his own coat and nick the sleeve of his shirt, even making it far enough to lightly graze his bare shoulder underneath. Lucky for him, Dottore’s own combat skills allowed him to manage dodging the better half of the blow, making a small jump as he twisted his body halfway across the corridor away from her. 

“Agile as ever, I see your reflexes seem to remain competent no matter the segment.” 

His eye twitched underneath his mask; No, no, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction, she wanted a reaction- like a young child teasing their crush to get their attention.  

Sandrone giggled, waltzing over swiftly, blade still in her grasp.

"Now, now, was that truly necessary, Number 7?" 

The woman smirked, unresponsive at first- but just momentarily. 

"I'd figure you of all people would understand- you too stop at nothing when it comes to obtaining something you want, isn’t that right?" 

Dottore couldn't argue- she wasn't incorrect, after all. But surely wasn't she being a little petty? It was simply a book, one she could read after he was done. Unless, of course, he decided to keep it; Checking it out again, and again, and again… 

Now it was his turn to smile. Yes, what a fun game of cat and mouse it could be. But, sadly, now that he had been caught, any possibility of such a game had been razed before his very eyes. No matter, of course; He'd initiate something another time. 

But most definitely not today- it seemed the Marionette had other plans, as she had quickly grabbed Dottore's wrist and used more strength than he realized she had, leaping off of the platform with him in tow, flipping them both over onto the floor below. 

“Surprised, Doctor? Now, now, you mustn't underestimate a lady like that, tsk, tsk~” 

Her gaze was derisive, teasing. Naturally, only a fellow member of the 11 would ever dare to ridicule him: She knew how to test him, and push his most hypersensitive buttons, truly, she did; And how he hated her for it. No one should know how to challenge him in such a manner, why in Teyvat did he let her in? Zandik was not typically a vulnerable man in the slightest, and never once in his life had he been- except perhaps in his youth, but such a time had long since passed, had been fleeting in the first place, and he had been sure to leave no trace of his younger days behind (save for perhaps a segment or two). But, even so, it just seemed Sandrone knew exactly what needed to be done to make him go absolutely mad- For underneath everything, somehow, he was still human, after all. That was what made him despise her so: The 7th always reminded him of his humanity.

He couldn’t stand it- and yet, he could never find himself trying to completely try and circumvent from her presence, either. 

Archons, how he abhorred the Marionette. 

But oh, how she adored the effect she had on the man. Only she could make him shudder beneath her gaze; Only she could make his face twitch with such irritation that only she could make him feel. Only she was able to startle him in the middle of his experimentation- Only she could sneak up on him like this, using the dagger to reclaim her lost- 

Damnit. 

Just like that, he had snatched the book right from her gloved fingertips as she had finally managed to touch it. Just like that! She had let her guard down for one second- and he had taken it once more from her grasp. The sheer audacity of the man! 

So, she did the next thing she felt necessary- she aimed her dagger to his chest. But, with his free hand, he had taken a hold of her wrist, too. 

“Well, well, who has the upper hand now, Miss Marionette~?” 

He sneered down at her, quite liking his heightened leverage in the situation. She was back below him, right where she was meant to be all along. 

It was symbolic, but also literal; He was above her in ranking, but also here and now in the game he had started- just as it should be. 

"You bastardly man. You're not going to win; Surely a profound genius such as yourself can figure that out, right?"

Sandrone grinned up towards him, but he watched as her left eye twitched with malice. Ah, how wrong she was this time around. 

The 2nd could only snicker, finding great humor in how the tables had turned upon the poor Marionette. 

"Tch.. what a pain you can be. Very well, have it your way." 

She sighed, and gave up on resisting for the moment, curious as to what he had planned for his next move. Her wrist went limp in his grip, but she kept a hold of her dagger- that was until he dropped the book, and took hold of it with his free hand, that is. He looked at it for a moment, before carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him. 

Sandrone launched herself towards it in a weak attempt to catch it, but ultimately failed; She clawed at the air, and only ended up gripping the man's coat. He smiled, and ultimately decided this was a wondrous opportunity to tease her. 

"Aww, it seems the young lady wishes to dance. Shall we, my dear?" 

She scoffed. The very suggestion! But, she thought, perhaps, if she indulged him for a small while, she'd be able to leave with the book she so diligently sought out for, and begrudgingly decided to go along with his ridiculous idea.

"If that's what you desire, so be it." 

The two wasted no time in taking position, both being trained in the basic art of the waltz. Mostly in the case of it being necessary for any work-related balls, and from a bit of previous teaching in childhood. Sandrone put her free hand properly on his shoulder, while Dottore placed his upon the small of her back- a bit lower than the woman would have preferred albeit, but she had worse to complain about, and decided to bite back any comment she considered making. He momentarily released her wrist, before taking her small, almost doll-like, hand, in his own. 

And thus, the dance had begun. 

Fueled by pure, unadulterated rage and passion, the pair slowly twirled their way around the dance floor. One, two, three. One, two, three. 

один, два, три. 

One, two, three. 

Dottore lifted his arm, and spun her around.

Sandrone rolled her eyes, but indulged him anyway, turning upon her heel quite dramatically. The man smiled at this, which was returned by a glare from the young woman. 

And so, the two went on. After a small while, Sandrone noticed the glint of a blade behind her most detested companion. Ah, her dagger! 

She feigned ignorance of its placement, keeping her unassuming, yet quite bothered expression stretched upon her face as they slowly danced towards it. 

"Hmm.. " 

She'd have to think quickly- how could she grab it? Quite obviously she'd be unable to do so without alerting the attention of the man in front of her, but perhaps there was a way she could do it swiftly and catch him off-guard. The woman giggled to herself, it was almost alike to planning an attempt on assassination. Something she wasn't as familiar with compared to other acts, but considering her and her comrades line of work.. she knew enough to be able to joke about such a thing. 

"What's so funny?" 

"Ah, nothing just yet."

  So then, "nothing" happened. 

With haste in her step, she stretched her leg towards the blade, and kicked it upwards and into her hand. Turning his gaze sideways towards the sudden commotion, Dottore feigned disappointment.

"Oh, how your betrayal wounds me~" 

"Please. Like you really thought I was going to give up just like that." 

He shrugged, a knowing grin tugging at the corners of his lip. His mocking expression stayed as such, too, even as Sandrone continued her attempt to gore him as she had earlier: She'd aim the blade, and he'd swerve in the opposite direction as they continued following their previous path around the dance floor, as he still had hold of her other wrist. 

One, two, jab.

One, two, jab.

One, two, jab. 

One, two…

And so on. 

He had to admit, she was quite good, especially considering her size. 

Determined, at the very least. 

But. 

Not determined enough. 

The Doctor let the Marionette play just a smidge more, before he stopped her mid-spike once again, and twirled her back into their previous position; Although naturally, not before taking the dagger for himself once more. He then pointed it towards the very center of her throat, and dipping her towards the pristine tile floor below.

Oh, but how sad it would be to dirty it with the blood of such a pretty little doll…

She rolled her eyes, knowing he wasn't anything close to a threat at the moment. If he wanted her dead, he would have gotten the deed done quite some time ago. 

"Have I ever mentioned before how much I cannot stand you at the best of times, Doctor?" 

The man sighed quite dramatically at her response, though his playful smile remained. 

“Ah, what a shame. I really had come to like you, dearest Marionette.

She raised a brow, and it was her turn to smirk. 

“And who has told you I don’t feel quite a similar affection, hm?” 

Momentarily, and only so, time appeared to come to a stop between the two Harbingers. Their pride seemed to break apart around them, too; Like an expensive vase getting knocked off a table and shattering across the floor. The 2nd removed the dagger from Sandrone's throat, discarding it for the final time now, and instead cupping her face in his gloved palm. 

“So the 7th is capable of feeling something other than rage towards me? My, my, what a lucky doctor I am~” 

Sandrone rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, if your ego gets any bigger it might just pop a blood vessel.” 

He laughed at this. 

“Well, how convenient I know how to treat such a thing. I hope you weren’t counting on getting rid of me so soon because of such a small injury~”

“Aww, looks like I’ll have to cancel my lunch date with your clone, then.. ” 

He made a show of acting hurt from her statement, pouting dramatically. She gave a small smile, yanking him down by the arm to give a kiss to his cheek and whisper in his ear:

“Foolish man, do you even know what you’ve gotten yourself into? You’re stuck with me until the end of time now, you know? You’re mine now, Doctor. Your little confession.. It was as if you made a contract signing yourself away to me.”

He shuddered at the almost threatening utterance, his thin lips curling into a devilish grin.  It was odd for him to feel so vulnerable with anybody, even himself- but perhaps, for her, he could get used to it; He had a feeling he didn’t have much of a choice either way. 

A finger below stroking his chin brought him back from above the clouds, and confirmed his theory: She was absolutely smitten. Or, maybe, he was just telling himself that to pretend it wasn’t the other way around… 

“Did you hear me?”

Dottore truly snapped out of it then, looking down back at the 7th with a 

“Yes, of course I did, darling.” 

Oh, he was always such a damned tease. But, it was too late to back out now.. She herself said he was stuck with her from this day onward, and she was not one to go back on her word without proper reason. 

“Eugh.” 

She rolled her eyes, before adjusting her posture and then his own, and assumed their previous stance. When the Doctor seemed confused, Sandrone laughed.

“What, you thought our dance was finished? How witless. We are concluded when I say we are- round 2 begins now.” 

With a small kick, he was forced out of his stupor and once again began to move across the floor with equal grace as before.

Yes, what had he gotten himself into, indeed?  

❅   ❅   ❅

[sansxfuckyou]

as it was

Summary: Kyle gets high easily, Kenny lives in the woods, Cartman learned how to sew, Stan brought a potted plant of marijuana- they all miss hanging out together like kids

Warnings: mild blood, weed, swearing, check Ao3 port for full tags.

Authors Note: ngl, i took the wrong edibles, got a little bit fried, wrote this when i woke up, hope ya'll enjoy and if you do consider dropping a reblog or checking the Ao3 port

If there was one thing Kenny enjoyed about all that time he spent hanging around Stan was the knowledge he had inadvertently gained about how to grow weed. It got him one of his first jobs, clipping buds down at Tegridy, and definitely got him through harder times. But at that, it also let him not experience extreme withdrawal after exiling himself from town when the times got impossibly rough.

He doesn't remember why he did so in a picture perfect memory, but he's heard from his friends that the town has become a tourist attraction of sorts now that he isn't fucking the places population count every day. He shoots, he bags, he eats, and succumbs to the loneliness that not even a stack of playboys and homebrewed edibles can cure. Sure, the CBD high is nice for joint pain, but he'll forever mourn the winter he lost the plants that actually gave him a real high.

He lost so much that year, three separate strains, Citrus Dream, one he smuggled that he swears smelt like oreos (he called it Sugar Rush), and his dearly beloved Uncle OJ, a gift from Stan directly with heavy orange overtones. He ended up burning the remains, it left him locked to the cabin for a solid two weeks even with the windows open. He hasn't been able to shake the lung pain since, even after a death by bear attack.

He's smoking his last bud of the year (sadly nothing more than CBD), tossed it into the wood stove to just smoke out the place, when there's a knock on his door. The woods don't usually send something to knock on his door and kill him, try to kill him at least. They usually snuffle around the porch and blacked out windows while he circles with his shotgun, ready to shoot at any moment because that's dinner. Instead he grabs the pistol, cocks it, and gingerly walks up to the front door.

"Open the fucking door, Kenny!" Another knock, much louder, much more aggravated.

"He's probably out hunting," The voice is a bit more hushed.

The sound of something dropping on the porch, "I smuggled a plant just for him and he's out hunting when we finally track him down, what a fucking waste."

"Just leave it on the porch,"

"It'll freeze!"

"It's just weed you stoner piece of shit!"

"You're one to talk considering you're Tegridy's most loyal customer asshole!"

Kenny swings open the door to find three familiar faces, one of which standing in between Cartman and Stan to prevent them from killing each other. On the ground beside Stan is a plant that reaches up to his waist in size, crystalized bits clouding the leaves.

"Hi Ken," Kyle said, loud enough to snap Cartman and Stan from their bickering.

"I'm pretty sure you guys are gonna get frostbite if you make another dumbass trek out here," Kenny answered with.

"Then move out of the fucking doorway and let in your friends," Cartman snapped as he shoved aside Kyle with ease.

Kenny gladly slid to the side and his friends filtered in one at a time, except for Cartman who retreated back to the car. Stan hauled in the plant.

"What flavor is it?" Kenny asked eagerly as he reached for one the buds.

"No taste tests man," Stan chided, "But, it's just another Uncle OJ, dads thinking about canceling the line."

"Randy's canceling Uncle OJ? But, it's the Tegridy special."

"Apparently someone found a stray clipping laying around and cloned a fuckton of plants from it, it's all over town,"

"I could go down there and burn it,"

"Don't be an idiot," He placed down the plant at the foot of Kenny's bed, "You remember how to tend to these plants, right?"

Kenny nodded, "Obviously, I've been living off that CBD one you got me since Citrus Dream and Sugar Rush were lost in a cold snap."

"You lost Sugar Rush?" Stan asked.

"Again, cold snap, out of my control," Kenny retorted with.

Three bags of something are dropped at the door before Cartman nudges the door shut with his foot. Kenny glances over to find said bags to be some of those reusable bags the world practically mandated.

"I swear to god Kenny, you need to start chipping the ice on your porch," Cartman snarled as he slid down to the floor and reached into one of the bags. He pulled out a bundle of magazines, "They stopped printing playboys after you left."

"They stopped printing playboys?" He sounds distraught.

Kyle gave a hum, "Just recently, you're lucky that Cartman is still a sleaze who can't get laid."

"Shut up Kyle!" Cartman cleared his throat, "As I was saying, I got all the playboys you don't have," He handed the bundle to Stan who handed it to Kenny, "Thought you might enjoy them cause unless you're making love to the things you kill then you aren't getting any bitches out here."

Stan fakes a disgusted gag at the notions, Kyle scrunches up his face in disgust, Kenny just shrugs.

"You'd be shocked at how good of a dildo a single barrel shotgun can make," There goes his filter, there went his filter, he lost it a long time ago. And judging by the reactions his suspicions of fucking oneself with a gun being not normal are confirmed.

"And I'm glad to say that you haven't changed a bit," Cartman said as he rummaged through a second bag. He tossed a pack of something to Kenny, who held the package looking rather perplexed, "Advil, for when your CBD tolerance is so high you'll overdose before you get relief."

"You know me so well," Kenny said as he popped open the top drawer of his desk and slid it in along with all the other things he never made use of.

"That I fucking do," Cartman said before pulling up and chair next to the wood stove. He pulled out a sewing kit, "Karen asked me to fix up your jacket."

Kenny shrugged off his parka, "I'll have you know it's just fine," He said while tactfully avoiding the large tear. He balls it up and tosses it to Cartman, "Since when did you learn to sew?"

"Since he outgrew the largest size," Kyle sneered, rolling onto his stomach atop the comfortable mess of blankets.

Cartman just ignores the comment, "I'll have a hard time taking a eulogy seriously if my mom is wearing one of her slut dresses in the coffin."

"So you're gonna make your mom a dress for when she's dead?" Stan asked as he dropped down onto the floor next to the bed.

"Look, would you attend your dads funeral if he was wearing boxers with pink hearts on them and nothing else? I thought so," Cartman said as he came too a patch that was falling off, underneath it was a large gash.

"That's," The ravenette has a hard time finding a good word, "Sweet," Not the right word at all but it'll do.

There's this comfortable pause of silence between them, like they're just four idiot kids at the bus stop all over again. The crackle and pop of fire is the only difference, and the fact that the burning smell of weed is starting to lay heavy on the air. Kenny slides open the bottom drawer of his desk, the drawer he fills with the cool things he finds.

"Think fast,"

Kyle barely has time to react to the words, let alone catch what's being thrown his way. He props himself up against the wall a bit as he inspects the thing, "What is it?"

"Cool looking stick I thought you might like," Kenny answered with as he pulled out another thing and tossed it to Stan, "Cool looking rock."

"I don't get anything?" Cartman teased as he pulled the patch back into place, one leg crossed over the other.

Kenny sifted through his drawer of trinkets before tossing one to Cartman, "Grenade pin."

The brunette stuffs it in his back pocket, "Wicked."

"How come he gets the coolest thing?" Kyle whined as he twirled the stick between his fingers.

"It's swarming with whatever germs are inside of a bears liver," The blonde said and Cartman shudders at the notions but does nothing to get rid of the gift.

He just echoes back another, "Wicked," as he ties a knot in the embroidery thread and moves onto another tear. "How teared up did you manage to get this ratty old thing?"

Kenny shrugged, "It gets the job done."

"You'd be better off just running 'round stark naked with how fucked this thing is," Cartman said with a condescending edge to his voice.

"Fatso, watch your mouth, he could kick us out," Kyle snapped to the best of his ability. He rolled back onto his stomach with a hum.

"How much THC was in that weed?"

"What weed?"

"The stuff you're burning right now, I can smell it," Stan said.

"None," Kenny said, he grabbed the glass jar and tossed it to Stan, "All of it's CBD, I lost the goods in the cold snap man."

The ravenette popped open the jar and took a heavy huff. He coughed a bit at the potency, "First of all, use separate jars for separate strains, secondly, I'm pretty sure some OJ rubbed off on the bud you're burning."

"What makes you say that," The blonde twisted his chair to rest his chin on the backrest. He tapped steel tipped boots on the ground.

"I think Kyle's getting fried," Cartman said, nodding towards the redhead, "That or he's never used CBD and the sudden lack of stress and back pain is getting him wasted."

"Shut up,"

"He's baked," Cartman said confidently.

Stan gives a hum, "Can't get baked on CBD."

"CBD highs are wicked good for sleeping," Kenny countered with before a jacket came colliding into him, "Give some warning!"

Cartman said nothing as he rearranged his sewing kit, "You're so fucking lucky I know how to sew."

Kenny just rolled his eyes and tossed the bundle of fabric to the floor, "So, Kyle's fucking stoned."

"I'm not," Kyle said, he sounded just a bit distant, "I don't usually sit around in a room full of weed smoke."

"Any suggestions on what the fuck to do?" Kenny asked.

"We could just chat," Stan offered, "Chattings nice."

"I could go shoot up a rabbit, cook something up," Kenny offered cautiously.

"Want me to make sure they don't have sex on your bed?" Cartman offered.

"Those two are dating?" He sounds incredulous as he asks, pivoting to face Cartman a bit more.

"We are not dating," Stan growled out and Cartman just laughs.

"Whatever your arrangements are, I want some," He's joking, a bit, he's definitely not genuine when he says it, "Besides, that bed needs to see some action."

"Don't die out there," Kyle chimed in with from the bed.

Kenny tugs on his parka, bright orange now faded, and slings on his gun, "I won't, be back soon."

"I'll deal with the fire while you're out," Cartman offered up, but Kenny knows it's not an offer you say no too.

-/-/-/-

Cartman did a damn good job stitching together Kenny's jacket, it hasn't held this much heat for a long time. He manages one rabbit, shockingly plump despite the stringiness winter months usually cause. It's blood is splattered across the white fur in such a way it's almost comical, it's still warm as hauls it back.

He nudges open the door and slides it shut with his foot, clicking on the safety and dropping down his gun. He drops the rabbit on top of his desk of many purposes and reaches into the middle drawer for his skinning knife.

"Kenny, help," Came Cartman's hushed voice from the bed.

The blonde startled just a bit before turning to face Cartman who had Stan and Kyle leaning onto him from one side. They're asleep and curled up together under one of Cartman's arms. Kenny frowns, "Did you guys have sex without me?"

"Dude, first of all, gross," His nose wrinkles in disgust at the thought alone, "Second of all, they dragged me over- and lastly, can you open a window before I get thoroughly smoked out."

"Yeah, totally man," He perched himself on his chair to pop open the highest window. Cool air filtered in comfortably as he sat back and and returned to skinning his catch.

"I brought food,"

"I know,"

"You've been eating enough lately, right?"

"I've been living off of rabbits," Kenny gave a snort of laughter at the idiocy of Cartman's concern, "In all seriousness, definitely not, I usually have some berries in the spring."

Cartman went to move, and it drew a whine from both Kyle and Stan. He glares at Kenny, "You will not tell anyone of this."

"I won't," Kenny lied as he shucked sectionals of muscle from bone. It was a swift job, he had two piles on either side of the desk and another splash of blood on the one framed picture he had of his friends.

"You should come back to town sometime," Cartman said, what he didn't say was that he missed Kenny, that was implied.

"No can do," He reached for the pot always resting on the back of the wood stove. It had leftover broth from yesterdays meal, it was still good. He pulled it closer to the hottest part of the stove top before dropping in the bones to boil away the nutrients.

"You seriously don't wanna hit up the Peppermint Hippo with me?"

"I've moved on,"

"Sure you have, look at your walls, pinups as far as the eye can see," There's this shaming shake of the head.

"That's different!" He slid the meat into a separate bucket and sealed it shut.

Kenny defiantly left the room, hauling the bucket into the snow to keep the meat chilled. He hangs his jacket up above the wood stove to dry it off and leaves his boots at the door.

"Room for one more?"

Cartman shrugged, "It's your cabin," he still held out an arm for Kenny despite trying to be aloof.

That's more than enough incentive for Kenny to launch onto the bed which creaked in dismay at the unprecedented amount of weight. He pushed himself against Cartman's side and his friend tugged him even closer, resting his head against Kenny's.

"Dude," Kenny began, "This is-"

"Pretty gay? Just shut up or I'll leave you to deal with Stan and Kyle on your own," Cartman finished, threat to his tone despite how quietly he spoke.

"Alright," He hoisted himself up a bit more, to rest some of himself on Cartman, "If the bed breaks I'm blaming it on you."

And Cartman laughs, a single note, "Sure you will, I'll try and rake up enough cash to buy you a new one if it does."

"Thanks man,"

"You're welcome,"

"No like, for coming on up, I missed you guys,"

"You should come to town sometimes then,"

"Walk all the way there to just be disappointed by the fact that Karen is still stuck at home? I'll pass,"

Cartman pauses, "Still, you should come to town,"

"Wow man, you're so compassionate,"

"It's one of my more desirable traits,"

Kenny just curled up into Cartman a little bit more, hand rubbing his upper arm gently. He drifted off into a comfortable haze of half sleep pretty fast while pressed up against Cartman. He gently held onto Stan and Kyle, tugging them a bit closer despite his better judgement, thank god they're asleep.

"Love you bro," Came Kenny's sleepy words, "And Stan, 'n Kyle."

"They're asleep,"

[beechersnope]

erotic horror u say? trick or treat! 👀

(any F1 pairing except strollonso is good w me, the more deranged the better pls!)

fresh take on a halloween classique (i won't say which so as not to spoil) ft. girl!logan/alex

[includes sex on horseback if that bothers anyone]

***

Logan knew not to go down to the lake alone.

It had snowed heavily the night before, blanketing the prairie in a boundless layer of pristine white, shimmering under the light of the full moon. She’d spent the day playing with the children, ice skating on the lake’s frozen surface for hours before heading back into town for an evening of feasting and caroling.

No one came down to the lake alone, not after dark, and Logan knew better.

She lifted her fingers to the hollow of her throat where the cross her grandmother had given her should have been resting against her skin. The only thing she could think of was that it must have fallen off while she’d been skating, because she’d retraced her steps meticulously all through the town's empty streets with no luck in finding the lost trinket.

It had to be at the lake. It had to be.

The night was calm and quiet as Logan stepped out onto the ice, and she could hear the vibrating echo of her footsteps as clear as day as she tiptoed slowly across the surface of the lake, searching desperately for the familiar glint of gold somewhere.

After nearly twenty minutes of fruitless searching, Logan was shivering violently and about to give up. And then—there. No more than ten yards ahead was a glimmering golden chain lying nearly in the center of the lake.

Logan sprinted over to it reflexively and bent down to scoop up the treasure. A blood-curdling crack cut through the night air.

Logan spun around just in time to watch as the ice started to split, a fissure forming along the surface originating from whence she’d just come.

Logan took a tentative step backwards, then another, too afraid to make any sudden movements that might exacerbate her already precarious situation, though every fiber of her being was screaming at her: fly!

Another crack formed in the ice, splintering off from the first before spreading rapidly, a branching series of breaks that would spell certain doom if she didn’t make it back to the shoreline before they reached her.

Logan glanced behind herself to check her progress. It was still too far to make a break for it. She had no choice but to continue at a slow, careful pace, trying all the while to outrun nature itself.

An earth-shattering boom pulled Logan’s attention back to the fissure in the ice. But the fissure was gone, replaced by a massive hole leading down into churning black water, and under that water, Logan could see something ascending, two burning red eyes like flaming coals moving steadily toward the surface.

Before Logan could scream, she found herself being launched into the air. She landed with a grunt in the seat of a saddle, facing a man dressed all in black with a bandana shrouding the entirety of his face and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat that cast any glimpse Logan might have gotten of his eyes into shadow.

Logan gaped at the man as they galloped away from the lake, and then peered over his shoulder just in time to catch a glimpse of a massive dark shape hauling itself out onto the ice.

“What was that hellish creature?” Logan asked in a near whisper.

The masked man didn’t answer.

Logan started to worry that maybe her savior didn’t have the heroic intentions she’d assumed of him once she realized they were riding west, away from town and toward the frontier’s edge. Her heart leapt into her throat as they rode further into the darkness, but then finally, the man’s horse began to slow before coming to a stop in the middle of a wide open plain.

Logan considered the possibility of jumping off the horse and making a run for it, but in knee-deep snow, she wasn’t going to make it very far, and she couldn’t escape a pursuer on horseback anyway. She closed her eyes instead and leaned forward into the man’s coat, trying to preserve what little warmth in her bones she still had, and hoping against better sense that this mysterious man would eventually see fit to take her home.

Logan breathed in deeply, focusing on slowing the frantic beating of her heart. And then she stilled. Logan recognized the scent clinging to the man’s coat. Juniper and pine. She’d smelled it before, on the hunting frocks she laundered with the other women whenever he came down out of the hills with winter’s bounty.

“Alex?” Logan said in an uncertain voice as she pulled away to look up at the man’s shrouded visage, her terrified countenance turned questioning in the face of the familiar.

The masked man gave a small nod in answer, and Logan breathed out a sigh of relief.

“You saved me,” Logan breathed into his chest, clutching at his heavy fur coat desperately, with frozen fingers clumsy with cold. “You saved me.”

The night was frigid, but Logan’s cheeks were warm as she reached up to take Alex’s face in her hands. He stopped her, pushing her hands away without a word, but Logan was not to be deterred. She grabbed Alex’s wrists with both hands, bringing them down to her chest, waiting until his hands settled against the small swell of her breasts before making her next move.

Logan let go of Alex’s arms and instead reached down between them for his belt buckle. She glanced up at his mask as though expecting to find an answer there, or a protest, but Alex’s only reaction was to tense his fingers against her chest as she finished unbuckling his belt, making her gasp quietly.

“If you don’t want this…” Logan said as she moved on to the button on Alex’s trousers.

“I want it,” Alex said quietly.

That was all the permission Logan needed.

It was impossible to remove her undergarments without climbing out of the saddle, and Logan wasn’t about to jump into the snow just to divest herself of any much-needed articles of clothing, so she made do once she had Alex’s trousers undone. She shifted forward slowly, lifting her skirts to encircle them both before reaching underneath with one hand to move her wide-legged bloomers to the side, using the other to guide Alex’s cock into herself while he steadied her with both hands on her hips.

Logan settled down onto him with a sigh and moved her hands to his shoulders instead, using them as leverage to push herself up, almost all the way off of him before sinking back down again. She was glad she hadn’t waited around for Alex to give her the time of day, that she’d gotten a few rolls in the hay before this with a couple of the butcher's boys so that she could properly savor this moment without worrying about her own inexperience getting in the way.

Logan could feel Alex’s fingers tightening on her hips with each rise and fall of her hips. She could tell from his ragged breathing that he was getting close.

And that’s when she saw it.

The same coal-red eyes that she’d first glimpsed within the depths of the lake, this time embedded in the body of a massive black bison hurtling toward them with frightening speed, trailing smoke behind in a massive plume that stretched into the sky—like a living wildfire.

“It’s back,” Logan hissed as she dropped back down onto Alex’s lap, his cock almost painfully deep inside her once her thighs were pressed against his.

There wasn’t even enough time to adjust their positions as Alex grabbed the reigns again and spurred the horse into action. Logan clutched at his coat, holding on for dear life and gritting her teeth against the feeling of being fucked like this, Alex’s cock slamming into her hard every time the horse’s hooves struck ground.

And she wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the fact that she’d already been close to finishing, but she was right on the precipice now, about to come just as the demonic bellowing bison closed in on them.

Logan watched with frantic, panting breaths as the bison galloped toward them, and then turned her head to look ahead just in time to realize that Alex was riding straight toward a cliff.

“What are you doing?” Logan cried out, the words coming out half-uttered, disjointed.

“Trust me,” was all Alex said in response.

Then they were skidding through the snow, the horse cutting right without warning right at the cliff’s edge and sliding to a stop. Logan watched through wide eyes as the bison (which she could see was more skeleton than flesh now) failed to follow them, its momentum propelling it forward—straight off the cliff.

Logan buried her face in Alex’s coat again and let out a shuddering sob.

“You’re safe now,” Alex reassured her.

Logan drew in a shaky breath as she leaned back, resting her head along the horse’s neck as she tugged Alex down to meet her. The pointed end of his bandana tickled her throat as he fucked into her, both of them desperately trying to finish now that the adrenaline had peaked, taken hold.

Logan came with a desperate cry, her hands clawing upwards along Alex’s chest to his shoulders, before abruptly lifting to grab the brim of his hat. She pulled, intending to toss it into the snow, to take Alex’s face in her hands so she could kiss him—but when the hat and the mask were gone, there was nothing there for Logan to kiss.

Because Alex didn’t have a face. He didn’t even have a head.

[beneathashadytree]

heyy i just saw that you write for knb so pls can i have headcanons for aomine with black s/o that plays tennis ?

POWER COUPLE - AOMINE DAIKI X READER

Warnings : Aomine is a bit of a perv (obviously), couple of curse words, black!reader and blasian!Aomine, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff <3

Word count : 0.9K words

Additional notes : Thank you so much for requesting for KnB! 🥰 It’s one of my favorite shows, but the fandom has pretty much gone into hiding 🫠However, I’d like to comment on something, nonnie. As someone who is very heavily mixed and has never been represented in any piece of media, or in any work of fanfiction, I’ve tried to rectify that by making absolutely sure to never describe any body type or size, facial features, race and ethnicity, sexual orientation, personal experiences, religious beliefs, or even something as silly as hair length—unless, of course, it is a comfort fic that has been specifically requested by a person, which I have considered this to be, or an emergency request. I aim to be as inclusive as possible with my writing by making zero references to anything detailed, because the last thing I would want is to see someone feel disappointed that they do not feel seen. Fics are a source of comfort for everyone, after all. I did write this just as you’d wanted it, nonnie, but I hope everyone understands where I’m coming from by keeping all my readers so vaguely described! All things aside, I hope you like this one because I personally loved writing it (and honestly I related to a lot of these points; particularly with wash day being today… yikes) 💗

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Masterlist

Now I am of the firm belief that Aomine himself is blasian with a close extended family and I will die on this hill, so bear this in mind as you read on

He’s… a piece of work, to say the least

It took a lot of time to convince him that no, ogling at magazines is not exactly acceptable behavior when he’s no longer a bachelor

But then again, he slowly found himself losing interest in the pinups anyways the further his relationship developed with his sweetheart

After all, his eyes always trailed after them no matter what, completely enraptured by them and their body regardless of how they were feeling (yes, even as they scolded him) to the extent that he’d even grin

Needless to say, this granted him a lot of annoyed “Eyes up here, Daiki”s, but they never quite found it in their heart to actually get mad at him; not when he always looked like he’d never take his eyes off them like that

It was equal parts flattering and embarrassing, really

As someone who’d spent quite literally half his life dedicated to sport (or as dedicated as he felt like being, in all honesty), he was ten times more appreciative of their figure because he knows damn well just how much effort goes into maintaining it like that

Every toned muscle, every curve and indentation; it had him spell-bound and admiring just how hardworking they are to be this… ridiculously hot

Speaking of sports, Aomine might be the best boyfriend when it comes to having an athletic partner, even if he’s a little embarrassing

He wasn’t particularly interested in tennis—or anything aside from basketball, really—but he sure as hell was in awe with how much effort they put in on the daily

Early morning runs, gym sessions, tennis practices day in day out; they really worked themselves to the bone to aim for their goal, and there wasn’t anything he found more attractive than that

He’d be the sort of boyfriend who’d show up to matches with a devilish smirk and tell his partner to go kick some ass—the loud, proud boyfriend if you will

You’re sorely mistaken if you think his inflated ego doesn’t extend to his lover’s incredible achievements

Any cheating or misconduct from their opponent? You can bet he’s spewing filth from the sidelines at the top of his lungs (and yes his lack of subtlety got him kicked out of the stands more than just the one time)

But honestly, his slight vulgarity is pretty motivating, because they know that they’ve got a supportive boyfriend to back them up

Come win, come loss, he’s always there to share every moment with them, a lazy arm draped around their shoulders

Given his genius in his own sport, they should prepare themselves for his grumbling and lack of enthusiasm whenever they go out to practice

Cut him some slack; he’s never had to work much when his prodigy far surpassed anyone else’s talents, so practicing was simply a waste of time for him for a couple of years, and he might discourage them in that regard

Aomine might be a little tactless sometimes and say unintentionally cruel things, but then again he’s still learning how to rely on someone else; it’s been so long since he had someone place absolute faith in him while simultaneously having high expectations of him

He very clearly struggles with openly expressing how he feels, so it will take some time for them to feel like they have him completely to themselves, all vulnerabilities exposed to them

However, he truly does appreciate their honesty and openness with him, because it encourages him to do the same; the reassurance that this is a safe space eventually gets to him

Given how his cousins and extended family were always around when they were little, he’s got some helpful experience dealing with levels late-3/4 curly/coily hair, and would absolutely be a great help when it comes to wash day… that is, if they can deal with his impatience throughout the entire process

He’s got the strength and deft fingers for it though, so they let him earn his pay (that pay being an obscene amount of make out sessions and begrudging cuddles that he’ll never admit to craving)

Despite being dark-skinned like his father, Aomine tends to get sunburnt very easily, so after he stubbornly grits his teeth and ends up achey and irritated with his burns for years, they force him to finally apply sunscreen—and he’ll be happy to return the favor, especially if they’re on the beach together and his hands get to wander a little over the expanse of exposed skin

The field of professional sports have had a very long, deep-rooted history in systemic racism, and he’s seen the effects firsthand as a blasian pro-basketball player in Japan, so there’s no one better than him to understand what his partner goes through in the world of tennis

Every vent of frustration is one he takes very seriously; it’s one of the rare times he listens intently without making any cheeky or annoying comments

Whether they want him to interfere and submit a formal complaint is up to them, but he’s just as willing to simply give them some much-needed emotional support and get angry on their account

It makes them all the more proud of their achievements, knowing just how much more they’d struggled than your Average White Joe, and that triggers Aomine’s boasting of his incredible, strong, badass lover

Yes he’s a dick but he’s their dick

All in all, it’s a learning curve, but he’s generally a very fiery person, so once things betwen them have been established as being pretty serious, he’s an A+ supportive boyfriend

Taglist: @mrsgiovanna

[moose-muffin]

Sooooo... Uhmmhmhumhmhm.,.,. Do you have any Manray HCS to feed the hungry masses? Maybe? 👉👈👀

Please for the love of god I am starving fhdjdjj

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!!! HI!!! I AM APART OF YOU LOVELY PEOPLE SO LETS GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD SHALL WE??? THIS IS LOOOOOONG OVERDUE <3 (ALSO THANK U SM FOR THE ASK, OPENING IT MADE MY DAY AND I HOPE THESE HCS MAKE YOURS <3)

MANRAY TICKLE HEADCANONS!!!!!!!!

as a lee…

- HE IS ACTUALLY ADORABLE! LIKE??? FULL STOP JUST THE SWEETEST THING. THINK ABOUT IT RIGHT, HE WAS FULLY PREPARED TO TAKE SPONGE AND PAT OUT AND HE COULDNT BC HE WAS JUST SO TICKLISH HE FELL ON THE FLOOR AND CURLED UP WITH LAUGHTER, HOW MUCH SWEETER CAN HE GET!? ESP BC HES SO THREATENING TOO ITS AN AMAZING COMBO

- like I know the show is silly and all that but it’s also like confirmed to be something Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy themselves have used on him!? like… they MADE THE TICKLE BELT, F O R MANRAY!? this implies they had to find out somehow that he was uber ticklish and I am so curious about that backstory… (more on this later tbh..)

- BACK TO THE THREATENING THING!! his character is genuinely scary like bros got a laundry list of bad stuff he’s done but yet tickling is the thing that takes him out! seriously will never get over it <3

- and also there may not have been that much though in the placement of the belt itself, I’d assume it tickles mainly his lower torso/abs which is a valid spot and I genuinely adore that so much <3

- If I had to continue the list of spots I see him as being ticklish is say bros got ticklish thighs for days… also he’s pretty damn muscular so anywhere that’s strong af is also ticklish af, I don’t even make the rules here THATS like legit science LOL

- also???? there’s like this sweet little video of a irl manta ray getting tickled and its instinctual reaction is to curl up a little bit and the fact that Manray mirrors that is wonderful (could be a coincidence but considering Hillenburgs background in Marine Biology there’s a chance it was planned)

- Also bro has so many little laughs I am obssesed!!!! like he giggles a lot but sometimes has moments of more rambunctious and louder laughter and it is a truly beautiful combo

- If you are to tickle him he is quite literally putty in your hands <3 so so sensitive and so much potential for the best sounds you’ve ever heard

as a ler…

- I’ll probably make more headcanons later (aka anon if you’d like more pls remind me darling bc I will probs forget)

- BUT HIM AS A LER!? He is so unforgiving

- im not sure if anyone would remember this but in the beginning of one of the episodes there’s like a Krusty Krab commerial with Mermaid Man and Barnacle boy being tied up and tickled by manray (implied, nothing is actually shown but it’s said it occurs) to the point of wetting themselves… speaks VOLUMES to how far this man would go for you, if you wanted it of course

- I mean that too, when he’s not up against his enemies he is truly such a polite gentleman and I respect that so much

- He would be similar to a partner totally. Just absolutely the kindest ever but the moment you want to be tickled, say LESS

- he’s on that so fast, bro is ready to pay back anyone for the time he’s spent with the belt on. It brings him joy tbh, and when he knows you love it, it brings him even MORE joy ;)

- He definitely goes for your worst spots and pushes boundaries but would absolutely check in on you after to make sure you’re ok

- He’s something else.. and he may be evil but he cares about you

- He’s such a little ass I love him, you’ll see his shit-eating grin and just KNOW what’s about to go down

- He doesn’t do tickle fights, he does tickle WARS. he LOOOOVES the idea of it being ever running, he could strike at any moment and you’d never know *oOOOooOooo*

- Speaking of that sound effect he absolutely teases like crazy. He’s got the wiggly fingers, the little evil giggles, the whispering teases into your ear when he can.

- Ok I need to stop myself now but all in all, he would be all over tickling, he’s such a wonderful character man and I’m glad you enjoy him as well!!! I’d love to make more headcanons for him so just remind me <3 I can go more specific as well like an x reader or background story type thing, you tell me!!!

ok!!! love you byeee!! thank you anon for a lovely request!!!!

[salsflore]

Hihii it’s the anon from before !!! (Honestly I could do this un anon considering you probably know who it is from me liking your posts and stuff but I get nervous :,] )

Anyhoo, but yeah I know like the basics about Childe. I used to be way too into genshin that I had to stop because I had spent like too much money already (I’m still pissed I didn’t get Hu Tao but ykw for everyone’s sake I’m not gonna rant about that)

Point is, I wanted to talk about my little goober because you said I should be I get nervous because he’s from a sorta uncommon source but whateves. Uhh I absolutely adore Mr. L from Super Paper Mario (I love Luigi too but Mr. L is like my main)

Ik it might sound like weird but I can’t help it !! Ever since I was a kid I’ve had these on and off feelings for him and I used to just tell people that as a joke and it would just eventually become one of my silly traits my friends know me by but I don’t think it’s a joke anymore. I love this silly lil man.

He’s much smarter than people make him out to be, I mean, he creates huge robots in the span of days and he probably works so hard on them too. He obviously loves his creations. He’s passionate and a silly lil villain that I could never dream of hurting a hair on his head I love him soso much. (I usually say stuff like “I want to squish him and throw him around like a ball” but for some reason with him I cannot)

I could definitely go on but I’m sure this post is long enough I am so sorry for all that 💀

hii nonnie!! you’re right, i probably do BUT if it makes you nervous then i don’t mind you staying this way :D sorry you didn’t get hu tao, i am a recent victim of c5 qiqi so ...

i’ve never rlly heard about Mr. L until now (not into the games & stuff pls forgive me) but it sounded familiar so i googled him obvi, turns out i knew him from somewhere! he’s the guy thats known for being totally in love with you, so—

but i think its cute how much you love him.. it really shows in the way you talk about him i think... ueueue ALSO HELLOO??? 🤝 yet snother villain enjoyer??? i think it’s neat that he’s so passionate about those huge robots he creates even if he might use them to do like. crazy evil shit idk i checked and there was one called brobot(?) but it looks so silly i like it lol :3 whatever he did... he was innocent!! (unless he killed like 10 billion people in which case sorry. i will not be able to defend your man.)