#so I'm quite behind on the reading 💀

[girlitfeelsgood]

I was hoping this cold would just play out as fever->sore throat->stuffy nose->over. But I'm in the stuffy nose stage and I fear I kinda feel a cough coming on...

[shockercoco]

Alone At Last

Void Bob Reynolds x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, fingering, orgasms, squirting, cursing, kissing, void is technically a warning lol

Word count - 2773

a/n - this was just supposed to be a quick little imagine because I wasn’t completely sure where to go with this, but then it just kept going, and I wrote the majority of this in one sitting💀 I'm also a little behind on posts so I shouldn't have even written this lmfao. It's also been a while since I've written smut. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy :) (not fully edited so minor things may change)

Summary: Just when you think you can have a relaxing evening in the tower with Bob all to yourself, his other half decides that he deserves to come out and play.

You’re sitting on the couch next to Bob when the team announces that they’re leaving. The two of you were doing a marathon of classic movies since they seemed to comfort Bob, and you just happened to also enjoy them.

You and Bob wave and say your goodbyes to everyone as they leave, but you don’t notice the way Bob’s arm smoothly goes to rest on the couch behind you. Once the last person is out the door, the energy in the room seems to shift. 

You look over at Bob to see his face void of emotion as he looks at the front door, but when he feels your eyes on him, he turns to look at you. No. 

Void turns to look at you.

You roll your eyes at him, before asking, “Mind telling me why you’re here and Bob isn’t?”

Void smirks. “Oh, come on, you’re telling me you want to continue watching these boring ass movies with him? He’s seen these plenty of times.”

“That doesn’t matter. Bob likes them, and quite frankly so do I,” you say before turning your attention back to the tv.

Then you feel Void’s arm move from its place on the couch behind you to wrap around your shoulders, bringing the two of you closer. 

Your breath hitches as you feel Void’s on your neck. He nuzzles his nose into your neck breathing you in, before placing a few light kisses on the skin. He places one right below your ear making you shiver, before he brings his lips to your ear.

“So you’re telling me, you don’t want to do something else? Have a bit of fun? The team will be gone for hours, and I say we take advantage of it,” Void suggests.

“And what would Bob say about this?” you ask as you feel his other hand teasingly trail up your leg, getting closer and closer to the bottom of your pajama shorts.

You hate the way your body reacts under his touch. Goosebumps appear on your skin behind his active hand, giving you away. Void smiles at this. You try to move out of his grasp, but his firm hold causes you to fail.

You swallow. 

“What makes you think he doesn’t want this?” Void scoffs and pulls his face away from your neck to look at your face. “Bob and I are the same. I’m just the other half with more confidence, more nerve. This is what Bob wants, and I’m just making sure it happens. Is that so…wrong?”

You feel Void’s travel higher until it reaches your core over your pajama shorts. Your thighs part just a smidge to make room for his hand. 

Your breathing stops for a moment and your eyes flutter as he lightly begins to tease you through the fabric. Your panties begin to dampen with your arousal at Void’s movements.

You try to keep your eyes on the tv screen in front of you, but Void’s presence is making it hard to concentrate. The room suddenly feels warmer and the voices coming from the movie sound muffled.

Trying to collect yourself and seem unaffected, you breathe out a small laugh. “And what makes you think that this is what I want? Don’t tell me you’re getting turned on by Casablanca,” you joke.

“So you’re telling me that if I reached inside these tiny little shorts of yours that I won’t find not even the slightest trace of your wetness?” Void raises an eyebrow.

He doesn’t wait for a response, though, instead quickly dipping his hand inside your shorts and cupping your through your panties. The dampness is evident.

You quickly stifle the gasp that tries to escape your throat as he grabs you in his large hand.

A sinister smile grows on Void’s lips as he finds exactly what he expected. “See, I was right. Would you look at that?”

Void’s presses into you and begins to rub meaningful circles into your clit. One of your hands instinctively goes to wrap around his wrist. This time you’re not able to prevent yourself from making any noises as a soft whine leaves your lips, your hole clenching around nothing.

“You mean to tell me that all this sweetness is for little ol’ Bob? C’mom sweetheart, admit that you want this, and I’ll give you what you want,” Void tells you, his tone condescending as he watches your reactions to his fingers.

You clench your jaw and give him a glare.

“No need to be stubborn, it’s just you and me,” Void smirks.

When he notices that you’re not budging, he dips his hand into your panties. Your mouth falls open and your eyes flutter as he trails his up and down your soaked slit gathering your slick. He teases your entrance, before going up to your clit with the newly found wetness and stimulating it. 

Your hips buck into his hand, wanting him to add more pressure, wanting him to do more.

You regret looking down at the sight of Void’s hand inside your shorts because the lewd sight alone causes another flow of arousal to leave you. 

You feel yourself begin to grow more desperate. You’re not going to be able to resist much longer. 

“The choice is yours. I have to say, though, I would just hate for the team to come back and you don’t end up getting what you want,” Void adds. “I mean, what kind of man would I be to leave you hanging.”

His tone sounds sincere, but there’s a fake pout on his face that you just want to smack off.

Void leans in, his lips almost connecting with yours as turns your face for you to look at him. The close proximity makes your mind reel.

“Just say the words and I’ll make everything feel better. Tell me that you want my help.”

Suddenly, you feel his movements on your clit stop, but he doesn’t remove his hand from inside of your shorts.

Fuck.

“Fine,” you mutter.

Void playfully tilts his head and raises his eyebrows. “Fine…what?”

You give him a look, and Void just innocently shrugs in response. 

“God, fine,” you sigh, “I want your help.”

“God? How wonderful of you to finally notice me for who I really am,”Void smiles.

This smug son of a- oh.

You’re caught off guard when Void moves forward to close the between you two. The kiss starts like any other kiss with Bob, but then it becomes rough, more demanding—both are characteristics of his darker half.

Void hums into your mouth as you lean into his touch and kiss him back. 

Without notice, Void stuffs a long finger into your leaking entrance before quickly pulling it back out. Void pulls away when your mouth parts at the unexpected intrusion.

“Fuck, you’re dripping. Bob doesn’t deserve all of this, he doesn’t deserve you,” Void comments, bringing his hand out of your panties to hold it up in front of both of your faces. 

You watch the way your slick coats his finger and threatens to drip down. You don’t know whether to feel ashamed or more aroused. 

Void is trying to contain his emotions and stay on track, but the way his cock continues to harden and leak precum inside the confines of his underwear threatens to get to his head.

Suddenly, Void sticks the contaminated finger into his mouth and hums in approval at the taste. His jaw clenches and holds back his own moan as he feels his cock twitch.

Your throat goes dry at the sight. 

“Take off the shorts,” Void instructs with a nod of his head.

You hate how you don’t hesitate.

You lift your hips to shuffle your pajama shorts down your legs and then move to take off your panties, but Void stops you.

“Leave them on, I wanna see them stretch around my hand.”

Oh.

Void’s mouth almost waters at the beautiful sight of the damp, dark patch on the crotch of your panties. 

Another wave of warmth flows through your core. At this rate your panties are going to become translucent and disintegrate in no time. 

Void wastes no time in attaching his fingers back to your core, gathering more slick and plunging his middle and ring finger into your awaiting hole and thrusting them inside of you. 

You gasp at the suddenness, but your wetness easily allows for his fingers to move in and out of you. Your mouth is left ajar as you allow your head to tilt back and your eyelids to lower.

Any other time, the band of your panties digging into your skin would annoy you, but at this moment the feeling just adds to the experience.

Void groans at the way your warm walls flutter around him. 

“This is kind of a snug fit, isn’t it? Bob’s not taking care of you like he should. He has no initiative…he has no idea how to take care of someone such as yourself,” Void rasps.

Void leans back a little to inspect how your face contorts when he moves his fingers a certain way.

It takes you a moment to ignore the squelching sound coming from your pussy and gather yourself enough to speak.

“But aren’t…you…technically still Bob?” you stammer.

“Don’t compare me to him,” Void says. A look of disgust flashes across his face. 

“It’s not really a comparison, just fact,” you tell him. When he doesn’t respond, you add, “Do you…feel threatened by Bob?”

The way his fingers falter inside of you almost goes unnoticed by you, but as your eyes look up at Void, you can tell by the expression on his face—or lack there of—that he’s displeased with the accusation.

Void quickly contemplates on whether to respond or not, and then decides to speak, “How dare you.”

Hearing his voice get lower and his tone deepen along with the feeling of his breath tickling your neck is almost enough to make you come on the spot.

Void wipes away the little smile you had forming on your lips by digging deeper and curling his fingers in a way that causes a loud moan from you. He uses his thumb to gently swipe at your sensitive clit every once in a while, making you clench around his fingers.

Your eyes roll closed as your back arches away from the back of the couch and your legs twitch but they still spread even more. 

You can feel your slick slipping out of you and pooling into your panties. There’s no doubt that everything isn’t going to leak through the fabric and onto the couch, that is, if it hasn’t already. 

“Fuck,” you breathe out. 

The arm he has around your shoulders tightens in response to your squirming body, caging you in and making sure that you don’t get away. He smirks as you whimper and twitch in his hold.

“Is that your spot? Yeah?” Void whispers to you in that condescending tone.

He chuckles as you mewl in response. 

“You talk too much, did y’know that? I’m surprised your mouth doesn’t get you in more trouble.” 

You blindly reach out for something to hold on to, not being able to decide whether you should hold on to Bob’s Void’s shirt or the throw pillow on the couch beside you.

“I think you can handle another finger. What do you say?” Void asks, this time waiting for your answer.

Bob usually only uses two fingers on you, but the thought of a third sounds perfect right now.

You nod, but that isn’t enough for Void.

“No, use your words. You got it.”

“Yes, yes, just do it!”

And that’s all it takes for Void to quickly pull his fingers out, throw your left leg over his lap to spread you open wider, and slip that third finger inside your dripping hole alongside the others.

“Oh, my god,” you pant. 

Your face pinches at the stretch from the new addition, but your expression quickly changes back into pleasure as Void continues to steadily pump into you, using his palm to attend to your sensitive clit.

Your jaw slacks as you feel your orgasm building deep in your core. Your body feels like it’s on fire as your senses are being consumed by him. Your skin grows hotter and you can feel the backs of your legs sticking to the couch.

When Void notices your thighs beginning to close around his hand, he speaks up. “No, no, no. Keep your legs open, you said you could handle this remember? Don’t be rude.”

You whimper in protest, but still spread back open. 

Void begins trailing kisses on your neck, and when he hears a noise leave you when he reaches your sweet spot, he focuses his attention on that area.

It’s all too much.

“Fuck, Bobby, please,” you cry out.

“I’m not Bob,” Void reestablishes.

Whatever. 

You feel yourself ready to tumble over the edge, your squirming and wriggling becoming more frequent as you climb higher and higher. One of your hands fist Bob’s Void’s shirt to help ground you.

“You’re squeezing the hell out of me. You’re ready to let go, huh,” Void speaks into your neck. “Well, go ahead, sweetheart. I’m not stopping you.”

His words were the last thing you needed to help you finally come. 

Your eyes roll towards the back of your head as you feel the damn break inside of you, your walls clenching repeatedly around Void’s fingers. Your body tenses up and your toes curl while Void continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you, helping you ride out your orgasm with a long, high-pitched moan. 

Void slows down the pace of your fingers as your high begins to subside and your noises start to reduce, and right when you think he’s about to pull out, he suddenly picks up speed again.

“W-what are you doing?” you gasp out, reaching down to grab his wrist again.

“I know you have another one in you. If you can do it for Bob, you can do it for me,” Void explains, his tone leaving no room for discussion. He smirks at your expression.

“But-,” you start to say, but Void just shushes you. 

“You got this, I know you do. Relax for me,” Void coos.

You can’t help the way your body tries to wiggle its way out of Void’s hold, but it’s no use. Even when your thighs close around his wrist, Void still carries on with getting you to your next climax.

You feel it almost instantly, your orgasm swelling deep in your core. You can tell that this one is going to be stronger, but something feels different. With your mind nearly empty and the only thing floating around in your head is him, it takes you a moment to figure it out.

But then it hits you.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

“Wait, wait…!” you squeak, but Void doesn’t care.

Void’s voice is hushed and low as he says. “Go ahead, make a mess for me. The couch can be cleaned later, your needs are more important right now, don’t y’think? Now cum.”

You’re trembling as you feel yourself gush, the liquid absolutely drenching your underwear as it escapes you. With Void still fucking his fingers into you, your squirt splashes onto his palm and back onto you. 

Your body feels like it’s locked up as Void forces the rest of your mess out of you. Your eyes squeeze shut while you let out scream when he finally pulls his fingers out and goes to frantically rub at your ruined bud.

Void chuckles as he pulls his hand out of your panties, but keeps his arm around your shoulders. A shiver runs through you as you finally close your legs.

A shiver runs through your spine as Void pulls his hand out your panties but keeps his arm around your shoulders. He chuckles at your dazed out expression, watching as you try to bring yourself back down to earth. 

Voice has to clench his jaw when he takes a look at the couch below you, seeing the remnants of your orgasm splattered around the area. 

He can feel himself throbbing inside of his pants, ready to be released. Maybe he’ll just leave that for Bob to handle.

“Who’s cleaning this up,” you breathe out, “because it won’t be me.”

Void hums as is if he’s thinking it over, before glancing at the clock on the wall.

There’s still more time. His face shifts.

Maybe he won’t leave his little problem for Bob to deal with.

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[saeist]

what people don't know about sae itoshi is that despite being known as the nonchalant final boss, he's actually the most chalant person known to man when it comes to his lover

it's quite hilarious really. people who know about your relationship usually come to you and ask how the soccer super star prodigy has been treating you but you always answer the same— he's treating you well

although people don't really buy it. the way sae acts around you in public is rigid at best. yes, he's your boyfriend and yes, he loves you very much but when you two are out and about, media outlets just can't help but publish articles about how the famed midfielder is totally "an emotional unavailable partner" (sae reports every single article about this btw)

sae itoshi is a man of few words. letting his actions talk for him is one way to put it

but behind closed doors? it's another story

it might be considered a legend that the sae itoshi is actually a pretty hands on boyfriend. in fact, sometimes it becomes a little too much when he dotes on you so much

one time you texted him that you had a headache for a while now and you almost forgot who you were texting the second he replies that it's because you didn't do this and that today

[3:14 PM] mi corazón: ? [3:14 PM] mi corazón: did you drink water today? i didn't see you drink before i left for training [3:15 PM] mi corazón: have you eaten? fucking hell don't tell me you "forgot" to eat again because you were caught up at work? [3:16 PM] mi corazón: wya? i'll order you food. ask your shitty co workers what they want too so i can treat your department while i'm at it. tsk [3:17 PM] mi corazón: tsk. what will you do without me [3:17 PM] you: sae... it's just a headache.... it's hot out today [3:18 PM] mi corazón: you forgot to bring the fucking umbrella i got you from pasotti? [3:19 PM] you: ykw i don't have a headache anymore [3:20 PM] mi corazón: read 3:20 PM

another time was you had joined him into going on a hike with his friends (shidou and aiku) and you accidentally had spluttered mud all over your legs

aiku and shidou were kind enough to stop so you could clean yourself up but you simply brush it off and say that it's part of the nature experience of hiking but sae thought otherwise

he grabbed a wet wipe from his backpack (another hc: he comes prepared like a boyscout with shit like this like personal hygiene shit💀), kneels down behind you and starts wiping the mud off your legs

much to everyone's surprise

"be careful next time" sae mutters, wiping the last bit of mud on your calf before disposing the now dirty wipes away

when you don't say anything, sae looks up and raises a brow

"what?"

he then watches your eyes motion to the bystanders being aiku and shidou, who both had their jaws dropped to the floor

who knew their little soccer super star friend could be this down bad to their lover?

sae immediately gets up from the ground, brushing his trousers as he clears his throat. as if that could erase that beautiful moment shared with you from aiku and shidou's minds

"tsk. don't make a big deal out of it" sae clicks his tongue in annoyance as he leads the pack back on the trail. consciously ignoring aiku and shidou's loud giggles and teasing

sae knows damn well that they won't ever live this down but who cares. if it's you, he'd do anything in a heartbeat

a few weeks pass by and wow, was sae right. those two idiots did not in fact live it down. so much that they just had to leak it to the media that the nonchalant final boss, sae itoshi isn't the final boss to nonchalance after all

the first thing he sees on his phone was a new article posted by pop base

[EXCLUSIVE] SAE ITOSHI ISN’T EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED AFTER ALL? JUICY INSIDERS SCOOP!

when he takes a peek at the article (before he reports it), it was oddly specific and detailed about that one hiking trip you had a few weeks ago. he didn't have to put two and two together to figure out who these "juicy insiders" were

"god damn it" sae clenches his jaw as he continues to skim through the article

suddenly sae hears you burst out laughing from the living room

oh no.

sae trudges to your shared living room with your own cup of kombucha for the day and sees you laughing your ass out while reading the same article

"stop reading that" sae groans, settling down the cup on the coffee table. he takes a seat next to you and leans his head on top of yours

"they're right you know" you giggle, reading the article "for a guy who acts all cold and collected on the outside, you sure are the exact opposite on the inside"

sae rolls his eyes, "gee. i wonder where they got that information from. i'm going to kill both of them" he mutters, pertaining to shidou and aiku

"you're just embarrassed that you've been exposed for the secret lover boy you are"

"they don't need to know what goes on behind closed doors" he points out. true

"okay lover boy. whatever you say" you laugh, holding your hands up in surrender. there was no point with arguing with sae when it comes to shit like this

there's a moment of silence after that. you glance up to catch sae quietly looking at you. like he was all caught up in the moment within your shared humble abode

"jesus. you really are down bad" you gasp quietly, covering your mouth pretending to be shocked. sae snaps out of his little trance hearing your words and flicks your forehead

"am not!"

"are so!"

"no!"

"yes!"

"i love you" you interject, catching sae slightly off guard

you meet sae's eyes as they soften. he simply shrugs and wraps an arm around your shoulders as he pulls you close to his chest

"and i love you more— now stop reading that stupid article before i report you and that damn news media outlet"

"sae!"

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reacting to having a younger s/o

Requested by @whrryuu : helloooo can u make ot13 reactions to a younger s/o with tooth rooting fluff plsplspls u r one of my fav authors and i loveee all ur works <33 thank yeww

A/N: Hiiiii angel!! Thank you SO much for the sweet words, I’m smiling so hard!!

Also, I wrote this while waiting for my call to the doctor's office, and the amount of time I giggled... in public 😭 I'm pretty sure the assistant there wanted to write my name to see the psychiatrist 💔 I really enjoyed writing this one!!

Seungcheol: He calls you baby so much, it’s comical atp. Wraps you in his big strong arms, shielding you from the entire world. He high-key spoils you: buys you snacks, jewelleries, designer bags, tucks your hair behind your ear, even ties your shoes sometimes. If anyone teases you for being younger, he’s like, “And? She’s mine.”

Jeonghan: tease. level. expert. He’s constantly poking fun at your age. “Aww, are you even old enough to be out this late?” “Are you even old enough to use your pretty mouth like this?” “Is my baby old enough?” But then he’s doting lol. Pulls you into his lap during movie nights or when he's feeling freaky, strokes your hair when you're sleepy, gives you forehead kisses and says, “You’re too cute. What do I do with you?”

Joshua: Such a gentleman it’s unreal. Always checking on you, opening doors, holding your hand when crossing the street. Calls you sweetheart or baby with the softest smile. “Did you eat? Want me to walk you home?” He loves listening to you talk about little things like your classes or shows, eyes full of admiration, which makes him even more eager to protect you from the outside cruel world.

Jun: Younger? He’s taking that as a challenge to be the ultimate younger boyfriend. I mean he's old but, in your relationship, he's the kid. But don't forget, he's Jun: he’s playful and flirty but super doting whenever he feels like it. “You’re so smol, it’s adorable,” he coos, pinching your cheeks. He buys you keychains, kisses your lips when you pout, and tucks your hand into his pocket when it’s cold.

Hoshi: Calls you my baby with a proud grin. Carries candies in his bag just for you. Sends you selfies like “miss you~~” even if he saw you ½ an hour ago. He shows off a bit in front of the other members. “Look at my cutie! Isn’t she the cutest??” Will not shut up about you. Ever.

Wonwoo: His affection actually runs quite deep. Always watches you with fond eyes when you ramble about your day animatedly. Reads books with you on his chest, lets you doodle on his arm with pen. Will buy you random gifts throughout the week. He doesn't really see you as a kid but definitely thinks it's cute that you're younger. His favorite thing is seeing you in oversized hoodies aka his hoodies.

Woozi: Pretends he’s unaffected and acts superrrrrr nonchalant but yk Jihoon lol. He’s so shy about PDA, but his ears turn pink when you kiss his cheek or nose or forehead or lips or... anywhere actually. But he sneaks cuddles when no one’s looking. Writes you little melodies on his guitar, gives you USBs like, “I made this… it’s for you.” Deadly soft. D.E.A.D.L.Y. S.O.F.T. I'm telling you, the nonchalance bullshit doesn't go too far with him around you.

Dokyeom: Literal sunshine™ boyfriend. He thinks your every reaction is the most adorable thing ever. “Look at you getting shy! You’re so cute I could cry!” Will deadpan compare you to toddlers and say you are cuter... infront of the kid's parents 💀 Makes silly faces to make you laugh [he loves making you laugh], sends voice notes of him singing songs before bed. Never stops telling you how much he loves you.

Mingyu: Always holds your bag, opens your drink, wraps his arms around you in public like a warm wall. “You good, baby?” Loves it when you act bratty—it makes him grin like crazy and turns him on. Carries you over puddles, cooks for you everyday, and looks like a proud boyfriend when you compliment his food. He'll definitely marry you one day, that's how smittenly in love he is with you.

Minghao: So gentle, holds your face when he kisses you. Buys you art supplies and writes little notes in the margins of your sketchbook. If you’re overwhelmed, he’s like, “Come here,” and pulls you into his arms in total silence. You’re his soft spot, no matter how calm he seems. He really loves that he can be your protective figure, not that he thinks you're any less capable to protect or defend yourself but he loves it that in general sense, he's the one. Note: he coos you all the time

Seungkwan: Panics over every little thing because you're his baby [in a romantic sense]. “Are you cold? Are you hungry? Do you need water?” Cups a hand on your cheeks , “You’re too cute, I can’t take it.” and have cuteness aggression every five minutes. Will 100% hide his face when you kiss his nose. Loves showing you off—“This is my girlfriend, the cutest woman in the whole world!” Yeah, he still calls you a woman, because you are!

Vernon: Our Vernon can be so so so so so so soft. Tugs you into his hoodie with him, lets you nap on his chest. Blushes when you hold his hand first, but won’t let go the whole day. He thinks you being younger is the cutest thing ever. Just wants to sit next to you forever, playing with your fingers. If he could, he'd keep you inside his pocket.

Dino: He tries so hard to be ‘the man’ but ends up being an adorable mess because of you. “I’m older, I’ll take care of you,” then trips over nothing after you smile at him. You make him flustered constantly 24/7, but he’s serious when it counts—“You can count on me, always.” and you can. Will dance with you in the kitchen because he's romantic.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: Simon had wondered what any of it had meant. Maddie's death, why he'd been the only one who could see her. And then he'd learned that, perhaps, everything that had happened...it hadn't been about him or Maddie at all.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.25

A roaring white noise erupted in the theater, smothering all other sounds. A TV static howl that seemed to come from within your own head, building and building until it was unbearable. You slapped your hands over your ears, gritted your teeth, pulse thundering almost as loud as the unnatural noise in your ears.

Muffled as if through cotton fluff, you heard someone yell, "What's happening!?" but no more than that, the voice swept away by the bellow. You lifted your head away from Xavier's shoulder and turned your body as much as you could within the tight band of his arms. Where the trapdoor should be, rising like a nightmare from its grave, the farmhouse door materialized in the middle of the stage. Your eyes widened in horror as the familiar screams from behind it began to gnash at the edges of the noise like teeth, "STOP! COME BACK! STOP! LET ME OUT!!"

You cast around, saw Maddie and Wally huddled together, Charlie tucked between two rows of seats, Ajay shielding Mina with his body, and Rhonda with her arms crossed in front of her face as the noise crashed through the theater like a physical force; a tempest of rage and violence that pierced the veil. The ground and walls shook, windows rattled, a stage light fell and smashed on the stage. The quake vibrated through your bones, motivated you to act, but you couldn't move. Xavier clung to you both protectively and in terror, his eyes pleading as he seemed to figure out what you planned to do. He trembled, fingertips bruising into your flesh through your sweater.

You'd never seen him so scared. Not once. Not ever.

Driven by adrenaline, "I'm sorry," you shoved Xavier off you, spun and rose in one fluid motion, and charged at speed down the center aisle toward the stage. The wind was sharp and stinging, pieces of glass and metal from the shattered stage light picked up and whipped about, but you didn't stop. Hurdled into it. Leapt onto the stage. Close, so close. Hand extended, fingers brushing the knob, about to brace against it to keep the monsters from escaping.

The door ruptured at its center, fragments of wood bursting outward and immediately captured by the storm. The force of the sudden explosion sent you sailing backward, followed by a tsunami of blinding, iridescent light that fell from the breach in the door and reached toward you. Cold. Clutching. You barely made out your name being shouted in varying degrees of desperate concern and fear. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter. Because as soon as you landed, hard—enough to knock the air from your lungs into your throat and choke you—the world shifted on its axis and went black.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Question 1.

Why did Frankenstein create the Monster?

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Simon lay in bed and stared at the ceiling above him, cracked and pillowed, a yellow-brown rash bloomed in patterns that he tracked in meditative circles with his eyes. He needed to shower, he thought dully. He hadn't had time that morning before being chauffeured to the station for another damning interrogation by Deputies Hayes and Stewart.

"Where is she, Elroy? Where's Maddie?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to us, kid, it'll only make things worse for you."

"I'm not lying, I don't kn—"

"God dammit, quit playing dumb!"

"That's enough," Mrs. Grace had snapped before Stewart's jaw had shut with an audible click. "Without substantiated evidence, this is all hearsay. Simon has given you everything he knows in his statement. Unless you intend to further make fools of yourselves, we're leaving."

Simon needed to get up. Get up. Get up. Get. Up.

He didn't move. Couldn't; his limbs grafted to his sheets, muscles like stone, bones elastic. His back was sore, his skin ached and he wanted to move around, stretch the discomfort out of his body, but...he didn't. Instead, he kept staring at the ceiling as the morning looped in his mind. Questions and suppositions, two manilla folders, one map, and then a tense drive home where he'd felt little-boy scared of his parents—his father—for the first time in years, their disappointment and anger palpable in the tight confines of the car.

Simon had been shown Maddie's file. A couple of graphic photographs that looked staged for a prime-time procedural drama. His best friend's blood splattered on the boiler room wall, evidence of the pain and torture she'd incurred when she'd been killed. Murdered in the bowels of the school while Simon had been three floors up in homeroom, bored and bleary-eyed, dozing on his backpack, mentally preparing for a night at the APEX with a group he felt a little on the outskirts of.

"Fuck." He choked, eyes stinging, rubbing over them with his wrist.

The photographs were seared into his retinas; there even when he tried to distract himself or ignore them or pretend that Maddie was still within reach and not one resolution away from vanishing forever.

Blood. Her blood. From a swing so violent that it'd projected onto the wall when the weapon had been hitched for another strike. How many blows had been delivered before Maddie's eyes had dimmed and her breath had stopped? His stomach lurched, but still, Simon didn't move.

The deputies thought Maddie was out there. Not enough blood on the scene to warrant a murder investigation, Stewart had informed Simon as if suggesting that Simon and Maddie might've tried to fake her death so no one would look for her. It was half-assed and ridiculous. Even Hayes seemed to think so, though she wouldn't have admitted it aloud.

Desperate to repress the images, Simon tried to remember the other file he'd been shown. The deputies insisted the cases were linked: Maddie's "escape" and a string of break-ins that spanned two neighborhoods that would've been one if it weren't for a railway track splitting it down the middle like a stapled wound. Simon had recognized the first immediately. Riverden Heights. A low-income area that had been chosen by the town council for regentrification, spearheaded by none other than Claire Zomer's stepfather.

The other, Warren Meadow, had taken him a moment to recognize, but when he did, it'd been a feat to conceal his surprise. He'd been there the night he'd found Mr. Anderson's stash, sat on a swing in the play park behind the house you called home.

What did it mean?

As he pondered the possibilities, a crisp gust of wind coasted over him, disturbing the curtains and ruffling the posters on his walls. At last, he moved, prompted to investigate because he was sure he'd closed it. He swallowed thickly, tense, heartbeat ratcheting up a notch. Propped on a hand, he looked in confusion and dread at his, yeah, closed window.

A slow, eerie creak snapped his attention toward his closet, the door open a sliver when he knew that, too, had been closed. The darkness within seemed even blacker than was natural. Inexplicable. Otherworldly. A shiver ran down his spine. Similar to the feeling he'd had when he'd caught Maddie's reflection in the classroom window on Monday.

The floorboards squeaked when he stood. Simon took one cautious step after another, muscles flexed, not prepared at all for an attack but willing to be brave.

Two. Three. Four. Five steps. His chest was tight. Hands shaking. Breathing shallow. As he hooked his fingers on the door to open it further, it started. The sound was faint and he had to strain to hear it, but it was unmistakable. Wet and rattled, punctuated by thick sniffles.

Someone was crying.

Someone was crying in Simon's closet.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Rhonda remained couched, braced against the wild, unholy wind until, bit by bit, she realized it'd stopped. When she opened her eyes, she gasped in shock, collapsing forward onto her hands. The world around her had changed; the theater was replaced by a span of paved ground enclosed by a chain-link fence, painted games bright against the black asphalt. A tingle crept down from her scalp to her nape, goosebumps pebbled her arms, and she panned her head to glance over her shoulder.

Panicked, she spun, landed on her ass, shoving herself backward with her feet to put distance between herself and the eerily suspended door. The void at its center flickered. It felt like a black hole trying to drag her into oblivion.

Rhonda flipped over and pushed herself up. Ran. Ran harder and faster than she'd ever done in life or death. Down the side of the building she'd found herself behind to skid around the corner and come to an abrupt stop.

She turned this way and that, disoriented, chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to suck in enough air to keep her upright.

"What the hell is happening?" She wheezed, every alarm in her brain going off at once as she began to process her surroundings: Outdoors. Too dark for how early she felt it should be, the air thin and cold, biting, and the sky obscured by a dense layer of gunmetal grey clouds. It was raining in sheets so thick Rhonda could barely make out the line of British inspired maisonettes on the opposite side of the street. "Where—?"

She cut herself off when the wide, double-door entrance to the building opened, releasing a soft glow from within that illuminated the pathway ahead of it. Children in raincoats and rubber boots bounced down the front steps, giggling as they jumped and splashed through puddles on their way to join clusters of adults who waited under umbrellas on the sidewalk.

"No. Fucking. Way." Rhonda walked toward the pathway, jaw slack, gaze fixed on the words etched into the stonework. She nearly tripped over her own feet, only just managing to correct herself as she turned fully toward the building.

Adelaide Meheive Schoolhouse for Boys.

The brick and mortar was as old as Split River itself, named after one of the town founders' wives. The school had been reestablished as Adelaide Meheive Elementary in the early '40s, ten years before Rhonda's family had moved from rural town Romania to Wisconsin. Rhonda had still been curious then, unjaded and excited and eager to learn. Her fourth grade desk had been right there, beside that window. Where she'd daydreamed as she'd stared at the houses across the street and had wondered what it'd been like to live somewhere so unlike her own home in the low-income district that bordered the factories.

Pressure stuffed her nose, her vision blurred, and suddenly she was overwhelmed by the memory, instantly missing her parents, her sisters, her grandmother in a way she hadn't in countless years. Unfortunately, she didn't have more than a moment to grapple with it before her attention was forced back to the school's entrance.

Two figures emerged, one was small, obviously a child. A little boy, Rhonda discerned, with a Spiderman backpack and rainboots to match. The second was taller, slender, the hood of their sweater up so it concealed their face. They hauled the little boy by the hand as they complained, "Come on, stop messing around, I want to go home," as the little boy kept trying to gleefully splash his way through every puddle on his way to the front gate.

A spike of foreboding shot through Rhonda as she watched the pair.

She found herself trailing after them as they turned onto the sidewalk. That sense of unease continued to worsen, churning in her stomach like a bad premonition. Although it felt like every other bad gut feeling she'd experienced in her young life, it was somehow distinguished. And when the taller figure got so frustrated by the little boy that they pushed their hood off and threatened, "I'm so serious right now, I will leave you here and tell mom you ran away," Rhonda was once again stunned into stillness.

The taller figure was a girl, no older than eleven or twelve with features identical to ones Rhonda had seen mere moments before the theater had turned into a category 5 hurricane zone. Your hair was longer and your face was rounder, softer, yet you looked exactly as you had when Rhonda had joked about getting Wally a new wardrobe.

You began to tug the little boy along again, your foul temper tween-girl extreme to the extent Rhonda questioned whether or not it was really you. Regardless of whether or not it was, Rhonda decided, she needed help, needed an explanation. Where the fuck was she? When the fuck was she? How did she get here?

"Hey!" Rhonda yelled after you, "Wait!"

You didn't notice Rhonda. In fact, she was entirely nonexistent to you as you yanked and heaved Aiden every single step forward. He enjoyed being a pain in your ass, always elbowing his way into every sleepover, usurping attention, whining until you gave in and put on movies for babies because he didn't like what you and Xavier and Hana wanted to watch.

You'd already been grumpy when your mom had called to ask that you collect Aiden from school on your way home, consumed by thoughts of Xavier and Hana ditching you to hang out with another couple because, apparently, that's what boyfriends and girlfriends did.

Your face twisted in displeasure, jealousy seeping into your veins like toxic sludge as you barked again, "Aiden, come. on. Stop it!"

Xavier and Hana hadn't even kissed on the mouth yet, you grouched internally. Plus, they were still going to Dave & Buster's with Mrs. Baxter like all three of you did. As a group. Every Friday since 1st Grade. It wasn't fair that just because you didn't want to be kissed or have some gross boy who smelled like B.O. hold your hand like that, you weren't allowed to go too.

The rain came down harder, thunder rumbled overhead and lightning cracked across the sky. Aiden continued to resist, stomping in and out of the stream that flowed along the curb. Stupid mom being held up at work. Stupid Aurora being at university. Stupid Andrew for being away. And stupid, stupid Aiden, not listening to you when you were obviously in a bad mood.

"Aiden!" You yelled, tugging him back onto the sidewalk, "I said stop it!"

Your clothes were drenched, your limbs were frozen, and all you wanted to do was go home, rant to Nanna, and have her comfort you and tell you to forget Xavier and Hana and their dumb relationship had ever happened. Just as you were contemplating how upset your mom would be if you abandoned Aiden right then and there, you heard a car pull up behind you and a male voice call, "Hey, can I give you a ride?"

Rhonda stopped when she saw the car stop. More specifically, when she saw the face of the man behind the wheel. She didn't recognize him and he looked normal enough. Buzzed, military brown hair and a friendly smile and eyes that crinkled charmingly at the corners. Rhonda moved to peek into the open passenger window, squinting at him. Despite how normal he appeared, there was something inside her soul, a niggling feeling that made her gums itch, that told her that the man's aura was several shades of wrong.

Clumsily, she reared back and turned to urge you, "Don't go with him," as that prickly sense of unease increased, blaring like an air raid siren in her brain. Rhonda couldn't tell if you were familiar with the man and decided quickly that it didn't matter, "I know we aren't exactly besties," She said, standing directly in front of you now, "But you have to listen to me."

You looked right through her.

Leaning across the console was a man wearing a uniform like your dad's, his face familiar though you couldn't quite place it. Your grip tightened around Aiden's hand and you narrowed your eyes at him. A thousand and one speeches had been delivered throughout your life on the subject of which strangers are good and which are bad. And random men in cars were at the top of the bad list.

"You don't remember me?" The man chuckled and then explained, "We met at the barbeque on base. I'm Christopher." He raised an amused eyebrow, "You got me with your water gun a few times."

Rhonda's gaze ricocheted between you and Christopher as you hesitated, tilted your head, and chewed your lip, studying Christopher like a Wanted poster. That nagging feeling in Rhonda's gut swelled into a sick panic when the tension bled out of your shoulders, showing signs of finally recalling who Christopher was.

"Oh yeah," You grinned and stepped closer. Christopher was in the same unit as your dad. He'd been at the barbeque with his wife and daughter, the latter having hung out with you and Xavier all afternoon while the adults drank beer and got rowdy. "Xavier pushed you in the pool."

Christopher snorted and hung his head in mock shame, "That's me."

Rhonda shook her head, her mind screaming at her to stop you from going with him. That if you did, all the happiness and joy and pure, unconditional love in the world would be snuffed out as easily as the flame of a candle. Rhonda had felt similarly when Mr. Manfredo's demeanor had shifted in the split second before he'd revealed his true colors.

"Don't go with him," She repeated, trying and failing to grab your hand, shoulder, face, anything. But her hands kept missing, sliding away, your energy and hers two like poles that would never connect. "You need to listen to me!"

You smiled down at Aiden, "A ride would be great, right Aid?"

Aiden wasn't paying attention, staring off into space. He did that whenever you asked him to stop being annoying. Acted like he hadn't heard you or that you weren't there. Glaring at him, you repeated the question, only for Aiden to tug your hand so you had to bend to his level to hear him.

"What?" You demanded under your breath.

Aiden whispered, "I don't think we should go with him."

Relief flooded through Rhonda, however, it was short-lived.

You rolled your eyes, "Seriously, Aiden?" God, could he just not? For once, one time, could he be on your side instead of making everything difficult? You knew he was complaining just so he could keep splashing in the puddles, but you were over the wet and the rain and the cold.

Aiden stubbornly stared into space again—stared at Rhonda—and refused to budge until you poked him in the cheek. He reluctantly dragged his eyes to yours, looking up at you with a pout, "I don't want to, Sissy." Lip wobbly, brow furrowed. The same expression he pinched his face into when you refused to let him use your Switch.

You heaved a careworn sigh and put your hands on your knees as you spoke to him, forcing your voice to a sensitive register, "How about this: If you get in the car, I'll make you mac 'n' cheese with chicken nuggets when we get home. Alright?"

Rhonda lurched forward, "No no no!" She begged you to change your mind, to hear what Aiden was trying to tell you, her voice strangled, throat closing. "Don't!"

Aiden chewed his lip as he considered your proposal, eyes on the ground. At last, with an apologetic glance into the middle distance, he nodded. It was a small gesture, almost disappointed, and he mumbled, "Okay."

You grinned and hugged him, praising him for listening to you as you opened the car door and helped him into the backseat. Once he scooched over, you climbed in after him, thanked Christopher for his kindness, and made Aiden do the same.

"Thanks," Aiden muttered, staring at his lap, looking for all the world like he'd just been told he wasn't allowed dessert ever again.

Though she knew it was useless, Rhonda bodily flung herself at the car when you closed the door, banging and slapping the window with her palms until they stung bright red. "Don't! You have to get out! GET. OUT!"

You buckled your seatbelt, then Aiden's, and the car pulled away.

Rhonda stumbled into the street, shouting after you. Her hands gripped her head in panic, pulse racing. She watched the car stop at the corner and saw Aiden rise to peer out of the back window, chubby hand up as if he was waving goodbye. The emotion in his big, green eyes—

She inhaled sharply. Without any doubt, Rhonda understood that she'd just witnessed a child's future turn to ash. And she felt in her bones that Aiden knew it, too.

"Come back." She begged, tight and weak. Then, with everything she had in her, "COME BACK!"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, an ominous creak drew her attention behind her. The farmhouse door. The deep, black void at its center. Eyes wide in fright, she shifted to run after the car but didn't get even a step before the blackness shot out, wrapped around her arms and legs, and wrenched her into its depths. The door slammed closed and disappeared.

In the backseat of the car, you asked Aiden, "What're you looking at?" when he continued to stare out of the rear window. You peeked over the seat in confusion, not seeing anything worth that much scrutiny.

Aiden slowly slid his gaze to meet yours and what you saw in them made your stomach twist, the look in them far too old for a six-year-old boy. Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to brush it off, fixing Aiden in his seat after he'd lowered himself to sit properly.

"Nothing," Aiden responded, tone solemn. He began to draw a little stick figure in the condensation on the window, and then an upright rectangle with curly cues coming out of it.

You watched him for a moment, suddenly feeling uneasy. "You sure?"

Aiden nodded.

You wouldn't have believed him anyway.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Question Two.

Does Frankenstein learn from his mistake in creating the Monster?

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

You roused in pained stages, groaning as you hoisted yourself onto your hands and knees. The world was spinning, vision cloudy for a moment before the room settled around you. The damp and dark didn't feel right against you, pushing in from all corners like pressure in the depths of the ocean. Heaving a breath, you wobbled to your feet, blinking rapidly as your eyes adjusted to the dim light.

Even in the thin light filtering through the high windows, you recognized that, wherever you were, it wasn't the theater.

"Wally?!" You called out, "Maddie!?"

No answer.

"...anyone?"

It took a minute for your eyes to adjust. The space was wide and empty, the ceiling low, walls exposed slabs of thick stone. A cellar, you realized, stepping carefully across the packed dirt floor. Faded Persian carpets had been placed down in the center; thinner, longer ones like runners led from the base of the polished wood steps to the back wall, the tail end of the last carpet disappearing beneath the stone.

"Where am I?" You wondered, glancing about.

A few items of furniture stood against the wall directly opposite the staircase. A tall, fat cabinet with glass windows that displayed a variety of trinkets that reminded you of curiosities Victorian nobles had collected to be admired by their unworldly peers. Beside it was a sarcophagus, Egyptian-inspired but certainly not original. It was far too dark, menacing, the face demonic with ruby eyes that seemed to burn from within.

You kept a wide berth around it, its aura unsettling. Like walking into a forest after nightfall with no flashlight.

On the other side of the cabinet were wrought iron hooks nailed into the stone, neat rows of ten across, seven down. Most of them were bare, though a few still held gruesomely painted masks in the Venetian style. Some with long, pointed noses; others more feminine.

"What the hell is this place?" You murmured to yourself as you reached out to run your fingers delicately down the smooth nose of one of the masks.

It felt familiar. The exposed beams, the packed dirt floor, the draft that chilled you to the bone. You followed the runners to the back wall, turned, looked out the window above you. Twisty, naked branches speared the sky, a large gap in the middle where...where the road... Oh, God.

Your breath caught and you began to feel queasy, bile burning the back of your throat. This wasn't just any cellar. It was the farmhouse cellar. The place you'd been when you learned exactly how many minutes it took for a human body to die.

The room swam as your vision blurred and all at once, you doubled over, retching into the dirt, swaying on weak legs when it was over. Breath after breath felt like ice as you tried to get air into your lungs, your heart to calm down, your head to stop spinning.

"It's not possible," You choked, collapsing against the wall, "I shouldn't be here, this isn't right." You sank to the floor, completely devoid of energy in the wake of your realization. As if the darkness had sucked it all out. You sat there for minutes that dragged into each other, hitched little inhales and drawn, stuttered exhales. "I want to go home," You whimpered, but there was no one around to hear you.

In that instant, voices rose and the floorboards above creaked under the weight of several people. Panicked, you shot to your feet, casting about for something to protect yourself. Nothing good had ever happened in this farmhouse, you knew, and you doubted that now would be any different.

There was nothing. And when you tried to open the cabinet, a taser-like shock jolted through your arm and knocked you backward onto the floor. You didn't have time to question it, the door above opening—that door, the door, the one that had haunted you for six years—and the voices getting closer.

"Surely, Lord McNair, you jest. A stablehand!" A woman's voice spoke, sounding giddy as much as disturbed. "How on earth did that happen?"

A deep, male voice answered, that of Lord McNair assumedly, "I haven't a clue, Liza." He sounded dismayed, "He took off with all the money and my daughter, the wretched bastard." A pause before he growled, "I tell you, never trust a Clark."

"Certainly not." Liza agreed. "I had two in my employ, sisters. Irish though they weren't Catholic, and I wish I had known such an important detail before I had Beaty hire the little rats. They stole the diamonds right off one of my necklaces. Had they the fear of God in them, they wouldn't have done so."

"And they were Clarks?" A new voice asked, another male, though thick with an accent you could only describe as South Asian.

Liza answered, "Indeed. You'll have to be careful during your visit, Your Excellency. The poor have become a problem in recent years, I'm afraid."

You listened with half an ear as you scouted for a place to tuck yourself into. The sarcophagus was latched and the effort it would take to break the lock off would be both too loud and too obvious. You searched along the walls, in the shadowy corners. The best place would've been under the stairs but a large cord of chopped wood had been piled in front of the space.

The footsteps got closer as the group descended, talking amongst themselves. Swallowing thickly, you pressed yourself against the side of the cabinet, crouched beneath the rows of hooks, hands over your mouth to muffle your harried breathing.

A strange sensation passed through the cellar as the group stepped one by one onto the carpet at the bottom of the stairs. The air stilled and the shadows seemed to part for the group as they moved across the space. A man held out his hand to help a woman down her final few steps and then escorted her with her arm through his. The next man did the same for the next woman, and then the third man for the third woman.

All were dressed elegantly, the men in tuxedos with white ties and polished boots, and the women in beaded dresses that fell past their knees, gloves to above their elbows, and furs around their shoulders.

"It's truly wonderful that you were able to attend at last, Your Excellency," A new voice said, female, heavily accented. Eastern European, you believed, "My husband and I have been eager to introduce you to the leader of tonight's gathering."

"I appreciate it immensely, Lady Rose," His Excellency replied, "I was delighted to have received the invitation."

The sound of the men and women nearing made your pulse rush like a roar in your ears. You squeezed your eyes shut, turned to tuck yourself as close as you could to the wall, back against the cabinet, pleading that you wouldn't be found.

Closer. Closer. The footsteps and voices were right above you now.

"Here you are, Raj" Lord McNair said pleasantly as he claimed one of the nosed masks and handed it to His Excellency. "Your lovely bride can help you attach it, I'm sure."

With big, terrified eyes, you watched Lord McNair remove another mask, one without a nose, and hand it to the woman beside His Excellency. And no one—your brow furrowed—seemed to notice you. Not even the slightest acknowledgment that you existed.

You didn't want to push your luck, staying put with your hand remaining clapped across your mouth. However, you couldn't stop yourself from glancing up at the faces of the group gathered in front of you, helping each other tie the ribbons of the masks at the backs of their heads.

His Excellency turned around after helping his bride with her mask and you almost collapsed in shock.

"Ajay!?" You said before thinking about the consequences. You rose quickly and stumbled forward, attempting to clasp your hands around his forearms as he fiddled with the ribbon on the nosed mask he held. "Ajay, where are we? What's happening?" But...your hands passed right through him, his image distorting, coming apart like whisps of smoke before letting in again. "A-Ajay?"

With a strained whine, you studied his face and the longer you stared, the less he looked like Ajay. The resemblance, as uncanny as it was, was only that. A resemblance. And, furthermore, Not-Ajay, it appeared, couldn't see you. Couldn't hear you. In fact, none of the men and women paid you any mind whatsoever. To them, you were as real as a ghost.

"Fuck." The word punched out of you as you staggered back. The faces that hadn't been covered were eerily identical to ones you knew until you stared too long. Rhonda. Ajay. Maddie. And then the resemblances faded and left behind just the most subtle of like features. "What's happening?"

You were going crazy. Trapped in a nightmare of your own making after you couldn't keep the farmhouse door closed. God only knew where the others were. If the light that had ripped out from behind the farmhouse door had trapped them too. If they were experiencing the same thing. Or worse.

"Come along, Liza dear, we're already behind schedule." Lord McNair remarked, holding out his arm for her to take. He led the group to the back of the cellar, following the line of carpets before he paused at the wall. Not knowing what else to do, you trailed after them, observant though feeling faint as you tried to accept that you might never make it out of whatever coma or conjuring the farmhouse door had unleashed.

If this was a nightmare, you thought, there was only one way out. You had to see it through to the end.

You saw Lord McNair produce a pen-shaped piece of silver from his pocket. Sleek, smooth, nondescript, and rather unremarkable until Lord McNair pushed it tip-first into a tiny hole in the mortar that you never would've noticed on your own. When it was halfway in, you heard a heavy clank of metal then stone scraped against stone. Your jaw dropped as part of the wall sunk inward and then moved aside, revealing a steep stairwell carved into the rock, lit by a line of low-burning torches.

The group herded into the stairwell, continuing their conversation, the men attentive to the women as they descended down down down into whatever was below the farmhouse cellar. The stairs were uneven, some tall, some short, and you briefly marveled at the ease the men and women ahead of you exhibited as they gracefully carried themselves to the bottom of the staircase.

As soon as you entered the space below, you staggard in your steps. A shock of pitch black energy crowded against you, the same as what you'd felt when you'd put your hand to the tree last night. Dark and sinister. Evil.

It took a moment for you to gather yourself, and once you had, you stepped further into the space. What lay beyond the staircase took you aback. The sheer extravagance was so out of place for where you were.

The narrow walls on either side of the staircase opened into a massive cavern that had been structured and decorated to mimic a European palace. Italian marble floors, a grand fireplace with detailed carvings in the wood of the mantle, portraits of aristocratic men and women kitted in ceremonial costume.

Your attention lingered on the portraits. The subjects seemed to be related, some more distant than others, but they all shared the same piercing blue eyes and severe expressions. Ginger to auburn to mahogany hair. Sharp jaws and smooth skin. Not a wrinkle or blemish in sight.

The clothes were ceremonial as was usually the case when the rich were painted, but they were also...religious. In a way you had a difficult time putting your finger on. Not typical of the Abrahamic religions or Dharmic or Taoic. More Pagan. Celtic or Nordic, you weren't sure, but definitely Pagan.

The subjects wore cloaks and were ornamented with etched daggers and wooden laurels bent and shaped into antlers, and identical broaches pinned under the notches of their collars. Large, silver things with a symbol you'd seen in the pages of a book housed in your family's library. Three interlocking spirals. A triskele.

A tinkling sound, fine metal tapped on hollow crystal, echoed through the cavern, a man's voice calling out to announce, "Welcome all!"

You turned, gaze searching the crowd of what you guessed was about seventy people, one for every hook in the cellar above.

They stood in a semi-circle facing you though their focus was on the man who spoke. You couldn't see much of him since he had his back to you, poised proudly in front of the crowd. He was tall, broad-shouldered yet lithe, and had hair that had clearly once been blond though was turning grey.

"I am overjoyed that so many of you could join us on such a momentous occasion."

"Hear, hear!" The crowd exclaimed, lifting in unison their champagne coupes.

"My only regret is that my lovely wife seems to have gotten lost."

The crowd tittered at what you figured was meant to be a joke. Stepping closer, you tried to get a better look at the man, wanted to see if, like the men and women who you'd followed down here, he held any resemblance to someone you knew. Together, the crowd's focus shifted to something behind the man. He turned, a wide smile spreading across the part of his face that wasn't covered by his mask.

You went completely still as his eyes settled on you through the holes in his mask. They were striking; bright seafoam green that within them held a wisdom and respect that transcended time. You shivered as those eyes, far too old for the face they belonged to, burned through you, heart hammering behind your ribs.

Slowly, the man reached out his free hand, smile softening, and said, "Ah, there you are," in a quiet tone.

Private.

Just for you.

"We've been waiting."

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-FOUR - PART TWENTY-SIX

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[frenchkisstheabyss]

⛧ 𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 ⛧

⛧ Pairing: poly!slasher!minsung x chubby!fem!reader

⛧ Genre: slasher au/horror/fluff/angst

⛧ Summary: It's Halloween 1996, you've just broken up with your toxic ex, and there's a killer on the loose. When you go to the local video store to find your next distraction, you run into your longtime crushes who have their hearts set on looking after you. But you must be careful. Not everyone's who they appear to be.

⛧ Word Count: 2.1k

⛧ Warnings: brief discussion of murder, implied possessive ex, intro to knife play if you squint, suggestive, psycho Minsung, you probably have a killer fetish, & that's all my loves. It's otherwise quite fluffy tbh.

⛧ A/N: I'm starting this series as my love letter to 90's slasher films aaaand because I just love Minsung. I'm writing this in "tapes" instead of chapters for ✨ ambiance ✨ so I hope the vibes come across. I'm already working on part two so I'll have my knives and fingers crossed you babes enjoy this one.

💀 >>> Go to Tape 2 >>> 💀

A bell dings overhead as you step through the door of Topline Video. A crowd of middle school kids dart by, nearly knocking you over in their excitement to get home with some cheesy slasher flick they definitely shouldn’t be watching. All are in full costume, wearing the kind of plastic masks that smell sorta funny when you put them on. 

The kid dressed as a goblin turns back for a second, peeling up the murky green mask to reveal an apologetic face. “Sorry, lady!” he shouts, taking your gentle smile as a sign of forgiveness and racing to catch up to his friends. “Lady?” you whisper to yourself, the door creaking shut behind you, “Great, now I feel ancient.” 

Lucky for you there’s no time for an existential crisis as you’re swept into the frenzy of the video store. The walls are packed with what must be a thousand VHS tapes. Double sided displays line the aisles with hundreds more. Every one of them is some brand of horror movie with even the most obscure subgenre present. 

Black and orange streamers travel from one end of the ceiling to the next with tiny spiders dangling from them. Giant skeletons lurk in the corners guarding jack o lanterns with flickering eyes. Every year people eat it up but this year is particularly spooky. It sends a shiver down your spine when you recall why. 

“I heard they found another leg” a red haired girl says, casually smacking on a piece of bright pink bubblegum. Beside her a shorter girl files through tapes under a large bloody hand drawn sign reading SERIAL KILLERS.

“I thought they already found both of his legs. A guy can’t have three legs.”

The red haired girl shakes her head, smiling mischievously. “That is not true. I hooked up with him once. You could for sure consider that thing a third leg.” The girls break into a fit of giggles. Dodging their insensitivity, you squeeze yourself into the Monster Movie section. 

“Hey Drac” you sigh, staring up at the Dracula cutout looming over you, “I live in a town of idiots.” “You don’t mean everyone, do you?” a voice answers back with the worst Dracula impersonation you’ve ever heard. Suspicious that it isn’t coming from the cardboard cutout, you peek around to see a familiar face stocking the shelves. 

Your heart immediately begins to flutter, a blanket of warmth encompassing you. Han Jisung. If you flip through the dictionary you’ll find him under D for dreamy. The glow of the setting sun kisses his dark curly hair, making it almost sparkle. And those brown eyes, they’re so…no…keep it together. 

“That’s a terrible Dracula voice” you tease, arms folded across your chest. “I don’t know what you mean. Bleh, bleh, bleh” he carries on, pretending to bare his fangs. Now it’s you who’s giggling and you can’t stand how easily he gets you to.

“You are such a dork, Han.”

Returning to his normal voice he only shrugs, “But that’s why you’re so insanely in love with me isn’t it?”

His words intensify the heat moistening your palms. Fidgeting with the sleeves of your jean jacket, you wrack your brain for some witty response only for nonsense to tumble out. 

“No. What? I…uh…um…early.” 

Popping a copy of Megaverse Massacre 2 onto the shelf, Han raises an eyebrow at you, “Early?”

Your brain finally catches up to your mouth and you spit it out. “Uh, yeah, early. I heard you guys were closing early because of the…” 

“Body hacking psycho killer?” a voice cackles, gripping your shoulders from behind. You let out a blood curdling scream that draws the attention of a few nearby shoppers. Swinging around, your fist ready to dish out a debilitating gut punch, you come face to face with Lee Minho. You haven’t quite decided if he can be filed under “dreamy” or “asshole” yet.

Minho grins, never finding you cuter than when he’s getting on your nerves. “I’m sorry, babe. Didn’t hurt you did I?” he teases, straightening out your clothes with a gentleness you weren’t expecting. The sun’s doing that thing again. The sparkle. The glow. The radiant brown eyes searching yours, threatening to make you fall even deeper into them than you already have.

Han dips between the two of you, separating you before you rip Minho’s head off. “I’m sorry. Really. He was deprived of air in the womb. Being an asshole’s just a side effect.” 

Over Han’s shoulder Minho frowns, “Hey! Rude much?” Digging into his pocket, Han pulls out a lollipop. It’s sugar blown into the shape of a blood drenched kitchen knife. “Are you bribing me with a sugary murder weapon?” you ask, staring at it skeptically. Han flashes you a close lipped smile, his cheeks so fluffy it’d be a crime to deny him.

Snatching the lollipop you waste no time popping the wrapper off and tapping Minho on the head with it. “Hey! What was that for?” he winces, wiping lollipop residue from his head. “Sorry, babe” you grin, sucking on your tool of revenge, “Didn’t hurt you did I?” Han buries his face in his hand but it does nothing to hide the joy he takes in his best friend’s pain. 

This is nice. Laughing with someone. With them. It’s been a while since you felt this light around other people. The recent weight on you hasn’t been of some invisible boogeyman sneaking off with one of your limbs. No, your boogeyman was someone you knew well, or at least thought you did, and he’s haunted you every chance he can.

Speak of the devil…

A bell dings, drawing your attention to the door where a man in a demon mask scans the room for someone. You recognize him immediately. Those boots. Those pants. That flannel shirt you always found totally hideous on him. Your heart sinks, the lollipop in your hand tumbling to the floor.

You see Minho and Han’s hearts sink too. It’s as if they sense that any joy you’d been feeling just went down the drain that instant. Minho whispers something into Han’s ear. You can’t make out what, only the calculated tone of his voice. “Hey!” Han says, perking up again, “We’re having a movie night tonight. You should come.”

As the man in the demon mask spots you, your eyes dart back and forth between the men. “A movie night? Sure that would be…I’d like that.”

Han takes you by the hand, “Wicked. Come on, you can pick a movie from the back.” He leads you towards the backroom just as the man advances towards you. Peeking over your shoulder you spot Minho blocking his way. A quick left turn stops you from seeing what happens next, filling your vision instead with tattered old movie posters.

Passing a few of Han’s coworkers, you wave politely and they smile in return. The back room’s like a dustier, quieter version of the sales floor. The walls are still lined with tapes, only there’s no way these have been watched any time in the past decade. Through the dust you see the spine of a tape titled Camp Counselor Sleepover Murder Party 4.

“That one” you decide, stopping dead in your tracks.

Han stops too, squinting to spot what caught your eye, “A woman of taste I see.” 

Pulling it from the shelf, he blows the dust away and hands it to you. “Only the finest for you.”

You feel that lightness again. It's easy to feel it when he smiles at you like this. Such an unexpected but welcomed sense of safety. “Han, thanks for…” you start but the surprise sensation of his lips pressed to yours makes anything you were about to say feel insignificant.

With one hand still holding yours, his other hand comes to rest on your lower back. Your lips are somehow softer than he’d imagined. Even in the absence of the lingering strawberry flavored lollipop, he knows they’d taste just as sweet. Minho’s gonna kill him when he finds out that he kissed you first but nothing could be more worth it.

“Thank me by not worrying about your ex,” he says, “He won’t bother you anymore. I promise.” 

You want to tell him how much he doesn’t understand. That your ex doesn’t give up that easily. But you decide not to ruin the moment, even if letting yourself believe him feels delusional. “Jisung, we need you up front!” one of his coworkers shouts back. He hesitates, unsure if he should leave you or not.

You kiss him first this time, turning him loose, “Go. I’ll be fine back here. Camp Counselor Sleepover Murder Party 1-3 have gotta be rotting around here somewhere right?” One last kiss and he’s rushing back up front, clueless as to how he’s supposed to focus on anything else now.

Turning back to the shelf you realize how big of a challenge you’re in for. Maybe there’s a feather duster somewhere? Or a respirator mask?

“Give it here. That has to be wrong.” Minho approaches the kitchen counter where you sit, playfully swinging your feet. He reaches for the magazine in your hand but you clutch it tightly to your chest, refusing to fork it over.

“Live with it, Minho. You are Suspicious Boyfriend.” 

“Suspicious boyfriend” Han sings, retrieving a bag of freshly popped popcorn from the microwave, “I think it has a ring to it.”

Hopping down from the counter, you skip your way over to Han extending the magazine and the pen in your hand out to him. “Your turn, Hannie.” You see the skepticism all over his face but don’t give up. All torture must be equal after all.

“I’ll take that” Minho smiles, stealing the popcorn for himself.

“Sure. Why not?” Han surrenders, grabbing the magazine and the pen. You and Minho watch on, far more amused than you should be, as Han skims the pages checking off answers to silly personality questions. Pick a country to travel to. Pick a favorite food. Upstairs or downstairs?

After a minute or two he finishes and slides the magazine back over to you. You can barely contain yourself as you assess his results. Leaning across the counter, you share them with Minho who immediately begins to laugh. 

“What’s so funny? What did I get?” Han asks looking so genuinely concerned that you almost feel bad for telling Minho first. Minho empties the popcorn into a bright orange Halloween bowl, shoveling some into his mouth. “Comic Relief Best Friend” he mumbles. Han frowns, coming to see for himself. You hold the results page up for him. 

Which Horror Character Are You?

You point to his score beneath the headline “Comic Relief Best Friend”.

“Oh, okay. So I’m funny and I die before him. Perfect.”

“Aww, come on. Don’t be like that” you say, poking at his chin, “It’s not like I got the best result either. I’m the Final Girl.” 

“What’s so bad about that?” Minho asks, his words muffled by food, “It means you make it to the sequel.” 

“No, it means that I’m boring. Badass but boring. I wanna be the killer. They have more fun.” 

Han shakes his head, a sympathetic hand resting on your shoulder, “I hate to break it to you but you’re not really killer material.” Minho takes your hand like a doctor prepared to give you some bad news, “Yeah, you just…you don’t have it in you, kid.” 

“Don’t have it in me? I do so!” you protest, your tantrum not doing much to make you less adorable. Minho moves toward the knife rack behind him, carefully selecting the biggest, sleekest one he can find. “Okay, so kill me.” 

There’s a long, tense silence.

“Come on. It’s not that hard. Just…” Minho mimes stabbing himself in the chest, his tongue stuck out sideways. “Give it!” you shout, running to take the knife away. Minho catches you by the wrist, slipping the knife into your hand and raising the tip of the blade an inch away from his throat.

“Do it” he dares, his hand tightening around yours, “Prove us wrong.”

There’s an unnerving excitement in his eyes as he awaits your decision. An excitement that doesn’t seem to want you to back away. No, it wants you to come closer. He wants you to come closer.

“Hannie,” you plead, “Can you talk some sense into him please?” Han joins the two of you, saying nothing at first, simply observing. The way that they watch you is intensely sexual and some part of you, one you hadn’t known existed until now, seems to take pleasure in it. 

Han laughs, bringing his arms around your waist, “Oh but sweetie, we’ve played your game. Don’t you wanna play ours now?”

[bones4thecats]

May I request Poseidon, Thor and Hades with a sweet, female s/o who's a god of destruction, hunting, and nihilism?

If Their S/O Was The Deity of 'Evil'

Type of Writing: Request Name: If Their S/O Was The Deity of 'Evil' Characters: Poseidon, Thor, and Hades Requester: Anonymous

A/N: I've been reading so much on Norse Mythology it's insane... to sum it up I'm a nerd, and it's fun, ngl🤣

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🔱 Poseidon never leaves his kingdom unless it was necessary

🔱 That did bode well with who you were. As the Greek Deity of Destruction, Hunting, and Nihilism, you had helped raise multiple Gods into their roles, such as Ares, the Greek God of War, and Heracles, the Human-turned-God of Fortitude

🔱 Because of how violent Ares grew to be and how impulsive Artemis had been instead of regal, as many viewed a woman to act like that, many viewed you as a mixture of them

🔱 But, you were quite the opposite. At least to Poseidon and his main allies, that is

🔱 You, to your husband, was the complete opposite as what you were rumored to act like. Instead of a cold-hearted and blood-thirsty deity who lived off of the pain and harm against other living beings, you were a sweet and adoring S/O

🔱 And whenever your husband would get pissed off about something, you could just rest your hand on his shoulder and calm him down like nothing... much like what he can do for you

🔱 Poseidon, despite what he says, enjoys it when you take his nephews, Heracles and Ares, out of the main meeting room and would take them to do some things so that they wouldn't get caught in the middle of a sibling-driven argument (mainly Adamas and Poseidon)

🔱 It makes him feel at least some kind of connection to his family, even if he isn't fond of many members (unless you consider his relationship with Hades to be somewhat healthy)

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🌩️ Thor always liked you, but since your father, Þjazi (Thiazi), had obviously caused a massive incident when it came to the Gods and your older sister, Skadi, he had pushed it all behind

🌩️ You on the other hand, had evolved your relationships with the Norse Pantheon, specifically you had welded a bond with Thor and his father, Odin

🌩️ Odin was very weary about you being alone with his son at first, but when Thor had come up to discuss his emotions towards you, the head God had just sighed and told him about how he had felt about the God of Thunder's mother when they first met centuries ago

🌩️ Thor was obviously shocked to hear that he was in love with you, a mixture of Goddess and Jötunn, but he did accept it and admit his feelings to you, shocking your sister, Skadi, and brother-in-law, Njord

🌩️ When you guys married and became each other's other half, many began rumors about you, since you began to represent Destruction, Hunting, and Nihilism in the Norse Pantheon

🌩️ Thor was not amused when those rumors had reached his ears, in fact, he was extremely pissed when someone had compared your actions to your father's. You were far from your father in his eyes

🌩️ While your father was hailed for his threatening and domineering nature with certain beings, while you were either quiet and polite or sweeter than a cup-full of sugar

🌩️ The God of Thunder, despite his wishes, doesn't go after those who speak bad of you, as he knows you'd be upset, along with your sister, who has been working hard on keeping your bonds in the family perfect

🌩️ He doesn't want his precious S/O mad, now does he?

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

💀 Hades himself doesn't have the best rumors being thrown around about him, so he understands how you feel when a new one arises

💀 Many think of the God of the Undead to be a very cold and manipulative being, but to you and his family and closest allies, Hades is a very caring and loyal brother/friend/husband

💀 Your husband was one of the first people to accept you inside of the old group of Deities, and he was by-far the most welcoming Gods, alongside Heracles and Aphrodite

💀 He adored how you represented such 'horrible' things, that being; Destruction, Hunting, and Nihilism, yet you were one of the nicest divine beings that he had ever both laid eyes on and given his heart too

💀 Hades and you had one of the best marriages hailed throughout the Heavens, from the Norse to the Shinto, everybody would agree on how amazing you guys held each other's hands through every single endeavor that threatened your relationship

💀 Despite what many believe, you are very kind to your husband's family. Many other Gods and Humans believe that you and his brothers hold a deep resentment for one another

💀 When in reality, you bond with them all very well. For Adamas you would help him train and keep himself in gear. Poseidon and you sit in silence and read whenever you don't want to speak, to him you're a decent divine being. And for Zeus, you're an ideal older sibling, you have had to hold him back from doing something that would either cause a war or Hera's anger... so basically just another kind of war...

💀 Your husband loves to see you bond with his family, especially Poseidon, since the God of the Seas isn't very fond of many. To Hades, he seems like he only tolerates him. So, seeing you guys actually bond in a way is nice

[livelaughloveluffy]

just the two of us - black leg sanji

a/n: (this totally isn't my comfort bedtime dream scenario at all......idk what you're talking about...) just a little sanji x reader fic!!! sorry, no proofreading here, if you see anything, no you didn't 😭💀

a/n: also spoilers for book one of the mistborn trilogy, the book, im talking about in the fic was book two (since im currently reading it at the moment)

summary: you and sanji have the sunny to yourselves while everyone explores the island you stopped at!

nothing but fluff here 💗

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

its not often you have the sunny all to yourself, and quite frankly its a time you cherish. everyone had been getting a bit of cabin fever on your long voyage, and decided to take a pit stop at the closest island.

nami and robin have been dying for some more pieces for their wardrobe. luffy, whose always overzealous for some exploration needed no convincing to jump off the ship the second it docked, practically begged zoro for some company in his shenanigans, brooke left tragically stuck with them to make sure the two of them didn't get lost or start a fight. chopper wanted to look for a particular medical book. and usopp and franky wanted to gather materials for all their inventions. sanji always enjoyed looking at local cuisines to find new ingredients and also stock up on things he's almost out of.

which left you, the only one willing to stand guard on the sunny. not that you minded, a quite ship was the perfect time to relax on the deck, stretched out on a lounge chair, book in hand, enjoying the warm sun, sea breeze, and the sounds of the waves as you read.

•♡•

you weren't sure how much time had passed, since you had gotten so absorbed in the story. but it wasn't until you heard some faint footsteps behind you that you practically jumped out of your skin, slamming your book closed and turning to see who had stepped foot on the sunny.

"sanji! oh thank god... its just you. you scared the shit out of me!!" you yelled at him. the blonde cook looks at you with an adorable smile and replies "sorry, mon amour! i didn't mean to frighten you. i finished early with all the grocery shopping and figured i would head back here to put them away. must be a really good book you're reading, i tried calling your name so i didn't scare you but i guess you didn't hear me."

"really? i didn't hear you at all.." your cheeks suddenly heating up, a bit embarrassed he had caught you off guard.

"you're fine, mellorine!! i'm going to get these to the kitchen now!" he said, with a slight chuckle, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"oh, yeah!! of course! go do your thing! i'll be here!"

•♡•

you go back to your book, finding the page you stopped at by the grace of god herself, but this time making a conscious effort to pay a bit more attention to your surroundings. the sound of pattering footsteps again sound behind you, seemingly coming closer to you.

you turn around to sanji, with a delicious looking fruity drink in hand. he breaks the silence first by saying "mon amour, may i offer you like this pineapple strawberry lemonade? as a peace offering for scaring you." with a slight blush growing on his cheeks, you instantly felt a little weak, how could you say no to him?

"you're lucky that strawberry lemonade is my favorite, and that the drink looks absolutely divine" you replied, a clear empty threat given the blush on your face as well. he smiled and happily obliged handing the drink over to you. "anything else i can get you? maybe a snack?" he offers.

you pause for a second. "....i wouldn't mind some company. if you have the time for it."

sanji, who definitely wasn't expecting that response choked a bit on the his cigarette smoke, taking a small moment to collect himself he answers "i have the time... i wouldn't want to interrupt your book though. what's it about anyways, it must be super interesting to hold your attention like that."

the sudden reminder of your book, which had totally slipped your mind since sanji returned came rushing back to you "oh! it's super interesting actually!! basically, this girl was able to take down this tyrant ruling over her city, but is now left with the fallout of a government without a leader. her love interest the most logical choice to take the throne, she's more of a fighter than a leader, is now faced with lords trying to siege their land and...." sanji's quiet chuckle stopping your info dump, making you a bit embarrassed and self conscious for getting carried away.

but for some reason the way his sky-blue eyes glowed when he looked at you made you blurt out the following "i can read it to you, if you want..."

with a wide smile, he sat down next to you and said "i would love that"

•♡•

the lounge chair was a bit small for the both of you to sit on it, forcing you a bit closer than you had anticipated, which was a problem.... sort of..

unlike nami and robin, you didn't really find sanji off-putting, annoying, or creepy. you actually found him to be quite charming.

with his fluffy golden blonde hair and the way it rested against his forehead covering his right eye, his slim but muscular build, those ocean blue eyes you could drown in, was really just the beginning of the list of all the things you loved about black leg sanji. thats not even mentioning his passion and kind heart.

so the problem was, on this too small for two people lounge chair, that you're hanging on the edge of to avoid physical contact with a guy you've definitely been pining some feelings for, but were too anxious to actually be that close to him.

the lack of thought about the practicality of your suggestion made you want to crawl into a hole and never come out of it.

sanji, being the gentleman he is, was doing his damn best to not touch you, despite the space of the chair actively fighting against him. "are you comfortable, mellorine?" he asks, not looking too comfortable himself.

are you really going to run from this opportunity to cuddle up to sanji?

"um... yeah.. i'm-" but before you could get out the word comfortable, the wind had shifted and the sudden chilling breeze made you practically jump into sanji's lap for warmth burying your face into his chest.

it took .2 seconds to register what had just happened and .5 seconds to decide to just roll with. "i am now" you reply, pulling yourself a little bit closer to him as you can finally begin reading your book aloud to sanji.

•♡•

for a moment, you believe you had died and went to heaven. the warmth and closeness of sanji, his arms had wrapped around your body in attempts to shield you from the cold, had you practically enveloped and dissolving into him. he smelled like sandalwood, cigarette smoke, and rosemary, definitely an odd combination but one that suited him so well and surprisingly complimented each other.

whenever you had the chance to catch his eye at the end of a chapter, or whenever he asked a clarifying question to better understand the plot, you couldn't help but swoon over his genuine interest in you and your hobby.

chapter after chapter flew by and it wasn't until you heard a familiar voice that you stopped dead in your tracks, "ah!! you'll never guess i found the cutest-" nami had begun to call out to you until she spotted a certain someone's blonde hair precariously close to you. "um... what are you two doing?"

"oh! i was talking to sanji about my book, and he seemed really interested in it so i offered to read it to him, then it got super chilly and um..." you frantically explained, nami's raised her eyebrow at you both, mainly because she didn't remember you mentioning you had a thing for sanji but also slightly suspicious of the cook's intentions. however, the rapidly appearing bright blush flushing your cheeks quelled those suspicions. "okay, um... carry on then.. sorry to interrupt.. i- i'll show you the top later" she said, obviously awkward especially since she felt like she killed the vibe for you both.

as nami walked away, you could see usopp beginning to board the sunny again. sanji had seen this as well and suddenly called out "wait, nami, what time is it?"

"its about 4:30"

at her response, sanji started slowly untangling himself from you and getting ready to stand up "oh putain, i totally lost track of time, i need to start prepping for dinner. i can totally see how you can get lost in a story like that, im kinda bummed we couldn't finish it.... i was really starting to get into it" he said, relighting his cigarette, since he put it out earlier not wanting to smoke so close to you.

"maybe we can do it again..." you quietly offered.

"i'd enjoy that a lot, mon amour" he replied with a smile, as he turned away to head back to the kitchen.

and how you'll long for the next time it'll be just the two of you...

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a/n: in my universe, of course god is a woman 😌 who else deserves such devout worship? 😌😌😌

a/n: i also stand by the headcannon that when sanji swears, its in french so thats what that is

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!

[fallendev0tionvn]

Was thinking about Clive's dad cause damn it's heartbreaking. Think you could tell us a bit more of their relationship before Clive's death? Some father son bonding type stuff

Also, thanks to you I actually got interested in reading about Nietzsche and got a few extra points in my exam (one of my classes has a segment of philosophy) so thank u very much for that ajsjaja

Can’t wait for future updates!! Lots of love! ❤️❤️

I'M SO GLAD!! good luck with your classes!🫶

Julian had to travel a lot for work, so they didn't see each other often, but he always tried to call or facetime Clive so they'd have meals together.

When he was home:

- Remember when I mentioned Clive having nightmares about being too physically weak to protect you, or being stuck behind a heavy door he couldn't push open to reach you? He went straight to Julian for help. They started working out together, Julian taught him everything he knew. I can just picture him filled with pride when Clive managed his first handstand.

- On his days off, he'd try painting with Clive. They'd do portraits of each other, but Julian's portrait of Clive ended up like that hyperpigmentation video everytime💀.

- Since Clive isn't comfortable going to therapy after his last experience, Julian did his best to listen and teach him what he knew. The grounding exercise Clive made you do in the demo? he learned that from Julian.

- Julian used be a heavy smoker, when he found out Clive disliked the smell of cigarettes, he quit for him. After Clive died, he smoked an entire pack in one day.

- He also avoided dating. Clive's main source of trauma came from his mother, and Julian didn't want to introduce a "mother figure" into his life when he clearly wasn't ready for it.

- Julian is SO protective, like he would actually kill for his son. If he ever finds out what really happened the day of the accident? Fuck the law, fuck everything, he's hunting them down.

- He might not have been physically present as much as he wanted, but he tried to be there for Clive emotionally. Even when Clive kept his distance, he understood. He'd do anything to go back and be there for him more.

- Spoiled him money wise, from gifts to literally letting him get an apartment at 19, that's where he lives now🏃‍♀️.

- Taught him how to cook.

- "Beautiful boy" is his song, describes him perfectly.

- Being a foster kid too but never getting adopted didn't give him the chance to feel what parental love was like. That's why he tries so hard with Clive- and why he keeps blaming himself.

- Clive still checks up on him from a distance to make sure he's safe, he's too scared to actually show up like "uhm, so actually I came back like jesus, msorry.."

(Mine went to buy milk so I have no idea if I made him TOO nice, JOKE💔).

[just-some-random-blogger]

im sorry babes but im begging you. Can we have a pedro pascal x reader fic where she's like a vlogger/lawyer and its like a fanmade video of them on yt of them being crackheads and being all lovey-dovey. like libra x aries vibes they balance each other out sm. you don't have to really but i genuinely feel like you're the only person who can pull this off.

Talk To My Lawyer

Every time Pedro gets asked something he can't answer, he always says the same thing.

Pedro Pascal x Lawyer!Reader | 600< | cw: gender neutral!reader, fluff, crack, rpf, typos, etc.

A/N: i didnt use and pronouns for yn besides you so anyone can read! ALSO this took forever, but im glad I finally did it. I hope you enjoy this nonnie! it's not exactly like the request but its pretty funny lmao

Tagging: @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak @sunfairyy @djarinsstuff @mooniesyubi @pedropascalgirly @mmmmandoz @multifandom-fangirl4

X - (Formerly Twitter) - verse

@hotnewsoutlet: Pedro Pascal announces marriage to Civil Rights Lawyer with heartfelt Instagram post. @gigigogold1: PEDRO IS MARRIED? @linmanuzel: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (2) @HOTdigitidawg: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (3) @103840582duh: ??????????????????????????????????? QUE @pedropascaldad: TO A MOTHER FUCKING LAWYER 💀💀💀✋✋✋ @pedropascaldad: OF COURSE THE LAWYER LOOKS LIKE A SUPERMODEL TOO HAHAHAHAHHAAHAHA *jumps off a plane*

@papipascalyuh: ok but if pedro was gonna get married ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hell yeah itd be someone who looks like THAT holy fuck

@80pascal: ?????????????????????????????????????? UR TELLING ME THIS LAYWER IS NOT ONLY HOT BUT SMART AND FUNNY TOO????? [article link attached] @biwohla: 💀💀💀💀💀 NO CUZ THE LEVEL OF UNHINGED??? FROM A LAWYER???? INFUCKINGSANE @marvelwhorebb: "... I made sure to wear the Pedro Pascal T-shirt I made when we first announced our relationship. Gotta let the people know I'm one of them and simply got lucky." @atrediessucker: T-SHIRT *I MADE* SCREAMING WHATTTTTT

@djinssdjarrinn: OK IT HURTS BUT FUCK HES SO WHIPPED [video attached]

"How are you today?" asks the interviewer.

Pedro smiles and nods, "good, how are you?"

"I'm great, now that I got to see you," she says, making the man curl his head into his shoulder and grin.

Pedro waves a hand, "oh stapit"

She grins back, "I was excited when I saw you arrive with the internet's favorite lawyer."

His expression shifts, he brightens up. He places a hand on his chest, "me too! I'm so happy to have a date today. I always end up beggin' for some time, and now I got it-" fist pump "-y'know, not that I'm complainin'."

"Yeah, I was gonna sa-"

"I like begging." *Pedro smile.*

The interviewer doesn't quite catch it, "-y, the both of you are always booked and busy. How do you find time for each other?"

Pedro thinks, but is distracted when you walk up from behind him. He looks back when you place a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, he's forgotten all about the question and dotes on you. He brushes a hand on your cheek, asking you if you're okay. You whisper something but then catch the camera. You give a bashful smile, "oh, sorry to interrupt."

The interviewer immediately waves a hand, "oh, don't worry about it."

Pedro mutters something and kisses your hand. He holds it as he looks back to the interviewer. He opens his mouth then shakes his head, "sorry, what was the question?" Pedro laughs.

The woman chuckles then moves closer to you, "you know what, I'm sure people are dying to know, what's something you newlyweds like to do together?"

Pedro instantly turns to you.

You purse your lips in thought.

"I-"

"Watching movies," you say.

"I-" Pedro starts again, looking back to the interviewer, "I don't think we can say what we like to do."

*crickets*

Pedro looks at you, expression mischievous.

You stare back at him, eyes like daggers.

He holds back a laugh and leans into the mic, turning to the camera, "I can't say it. Talk to my lawyer."

The interviewer laughs and so do you, begrudingly.

"Talk to my lawyer," Pedro repeats proudly, breaking into a wide mouthed smile.

"Ok," you mutter, "pack it up, Pascal."

@alexielover: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP BASHING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL WHAT THE FUCK @600MILK: MF SAID TALK TO MY LAWYER 🙄✋ SOBBING @oscarisaaacsz: watch him use that for everythingggggg 😭 @pedrogrill: LORD I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS @starwazfr: *sips clorox cutely* @emeryslala: and im supposed to sha la la baby after this? FOUL @pascpedro: respectfully, id pay to be their third @probelmaskt: PACK IT UP PASCAL???????????????????

[nackrosor]

~Magic Hands~

𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 '𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽' 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

warnings/tags: smut, massage, hurt/comfort, female receiving, v. fingering, soft Ghost, romantic tension, the room is packed with your mates so you have to keep quiet hehe

synopsis: in the aftermath of a rough mission, you find yourself unable to fall asleep due to muscle aches. Your Lieutenant offers to help you release the tension by giving you a massage, which escalates rather quickly.

word count: 4,1k.

[a/n: finally writing for my man Ghost and I'm quite proud of how this first story turned out. Now I'm curious to know what you think of it! Also, this wasn't beta-read so if there's any typo/grammatical error, let me know. Alright, enjoyyyyy 🌶️✨💀]

"You can't sleep?" 

Ghost's deep hushed voice coming from somewhere behind you makes you turn in your bedroll. The room is nearly pitch black, with only a sliver of moonlight streaming in through the half-closed window, yet providing enough light to make your close surroundings visible. Therefore, when you turn around, you can see Ghost sitting on the floor a few feet away from you, his back to the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest and legs stretched straight in front of him. The thin dark gray t-shirt, paired with the intense chiaroscuro that imbues the room, highlights the outline of his massive biceps. Your eyes linger on his arms before they meet his, which twinkle slightly as they capture the moonshine.

"You neither?" 

He hums in response.

A weary sigh escapes you as you sprawl on your back, hand flying to the nape of your neck, where the muscles tug and burn. You feel like a wreck. You knew today’s operation would have been rough, even more than the last ones and you were prepared for it, you had trained so hard for months. You've risked your own skin multiple times during the offensive, although in the end you got away with only a scratch or two; nothing major. You were still high on adrenaline as you made it back to the base camp -a dilapidated temporary facility in the middle of a thick forest- and you were even rather impressed of yourself for having handled it all so well… until fatigue came crushing on you like a double-decker bus, almost knocking you to your knees and you felt the magnitude of the efforts made in all its gravity. You tried to mask it as you dined with your brothers in arms, a scarce sorry meal that didn’t even quench a third of your appetite, then instantly dragged your 200 pounds heavier than normal legs to the storage room adapted for sleeping and flopped down on your bed roll. You thought the ache would pass, that you only needed to lie down and let your limbs rest but it has already been three or four hours since then and you haven’t been able to close your eyes not even once.

"Everything aches so much. I might have strained a muscle or something. Possibly all of them." 

Ghost hums again in understanding. A moment of silence follows; silence only interrupted by the rhythmic snoring of your mates, laying in their bedrolls all around you in the tiny room.

"Come here." 

Your head snaps up. 

"Uh?" 

"You heard me. We need to do something about those sore muscles. Can't allow them to get in the way of the mission tomorrow." 

You look questioningly at him, eyes roaming over his masked face, as if expecting to be able to read his intentions. What can he do for you? The same as he can do for himself, which is pretty much nothing; he’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you to suck it up. If only there was a medic in the facility, you could have asked for an injection to ease the tension in your body but alas, you're on your own down here, equipped with no instant medication other than a pack of analgesics reserved for battle and a pain drug; but there's no way you'd take one on a night before a mission and risk waking up as a zombie in the morning. 

You’d have to wait for a proper medical treatment when you’re out of this hell, assuming you’re still in one piece by then.

“We don’t have all night, Sergeant.”

Ugh, using your title, of course. It can only mean the Lieutenant won’t accept a refusal from you. And who are you to refuse anyway? Just a lower soldier in pain; nothing special about you.

Even though you are still perplexed about his intentions, you scoot toward him, crawling silently so as to not wake up the others. Fortunately you don’t have to step on someone’s lying body to reach your superior.

He spreads his legs to give you room to get closer and you swallow the thrill that inflames your body at the sight of that big hunk of a man welcoming you in his lap. This is not the time to give in to such fantasies. Nor there will ever be. Hard truth.

Ghost’s fingers masterly find the waistband of your cargo trousers and tug at it to make you slide closer.

"Turn around." 

His commanding voice compels you to do as he says without question. There's no room for hesitation when he employs that tone; you must obey his directives, whether you're on the field on a mission or killing time at the HQ. Nobody can stand up to it, least of all you.

You’re barely able to suppress a gasp when you feel his huge hands take hold of your hips and settle you between his thighs, your back colliding with his firm chest. You can't, however, physically stop the shiver that runs down your spine as his palms climb up your sides, sliding upward over your back, causing you to bend slightly forward as he reaches your shoulders. There, he begins to knead your muscles carefully, knowing where to apply more pressure and where to let the tip of his fingers do most of the work.

You’re too stunned to speak. Never in a million years you would have guessed this is what he had in mind to do to help you. Ghost, your Lieutenant, has his hands on you, in a room full of fellow soldiers, in the middle of the night while you are on duty. What crazy-ass dream is this?

"Ghost-," you shudder, his hands working on a particularly sore spot, "a m-massage, seriously?" 

“What?”

“They only make things worse-”

While having Ghost do it is a whole new experience for you, you've received your fair share of massages, both throughout your years of training and after you became a special agent and they never seemed to work on you. They always left you in more pain than you were in before. You could have blamed it on the medic if only you hadn’t changed so many during the past years; they couldn't all have been incompetent, could they?

"You never got one from me, innit? They don't call me magic hands for nothing." 

You frown, throwing him a sideway glance over your shoulder. 

"Nobody calls you that." 

You hear him huff and your head is forced back to face straight by a firm nudge.

As strange and unexpected as it may seem, you must admit that his hands are truly doing Lord’s work against your shoulders, easing your tensed muscles and relieving some pain, so much so that you find yourself closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. 

"See? Just relax." 

His hands scoot lower, sliding down your back and sides, resting just above your bum. The warmth of his palms rubbing that sore area in circular motions sends more shivers up your spine. In his ascent back up, he pays attention to the tensed muscles of your arms, thumbs kneading deep into them and then finally, he goes back to your neck. Your breath catches at the feeling of his strong hands wrapping around it. His firm touch appears to arouse something primal within you. You can feel heat pooling in your core right away. 

"Fucking hell. Your neck is rock hard." 

He increases the pressure, rubbing the skin and working on the knots. His thumbs slide up and down your larynx, matching the movement of his other fingers on the nape. Your head bends backward on its own, landing on his chest. 

Ghost hums again, appreciatively. 

"You liking it?" 

"Y-yes, sir-"

His chest shakes softly against your back, a light rumble coming from his throat. 

"Good girl." 

You bite back a gasp. Those hushed words only add to the growing ache between your legs. The massage is clearly starting to turn you on and you feel… conflicted. You know you shouldn’t let his skillful touch, nor his raspy voice whispering so close to your ear or the warmth of his chest pressed against your back affect you so much. However, you are basically caged in his lap, how are you supposed to not let that cloud your judgment? To not allow your fantasies to run wild in your head? Yes, you’re strong, but… not that strong. You can’t possibly stop your body from reacting so naturally to all of these overwhelming sensations. Especially when you’re so touch-starved, and having Ghost being the one to indulge your craving doesn’t help in the slightest.

 " Mh, you're tensing up again." 

Ghost swiftly resumes working on your back, placing the palm of each hand on either side of your spine and working his way up, keeping his hands parallel to one another. When he reaches the top of your back, he fans his hands outwards across the shoulders, as if outlining the top of a heart. Using a kneading motion, he returns to the lower of your back to work the large muscles on either side of your spine then presses his fingertips firmly into your flesh before quickly releasing as he works his way up. The constant pressing and releasing sends your spine tingling and you fail to hold back a moan.    

“Yes. Don’t fight it.”

If only he knew what you were actually fighting against. How can the tension leave your body if his touch and his closeness and his voice are all working so hard together to make you tense up all the more?

You feel his hands close into fists and his knuckles start to rub gently but firmly across the tops of your shoulders and then glide down your biceps, the inner part of your arms, the side of your chest... 

Inadvertently, your body jerks at the new sensation, and his hand accidentally brushes up against your breast, fingers knocking into the slight bulge in your top caused by your aroused nipple. You stifle the moan that erupts from your throat by biting your bottom lip hard, your body stiffening instantaneously. 

Silence falls into the room, coating it in tension; your mates are not even snoring anymore. You don’t dare to move a muscle, you can barely keep your ragged breathing under control. 

Has he noticed? Does he realize what has just happened? It’s so dark in here and it all happened so quickly, he may have no idea what he has just touched, he may have not caught the lewd sound that came out of your mouth, either. Your body has tensed so much, however, that your reaction must have caught his attention. Any doubt goes out the window when you feel his hands retract and his body shift uncomfortably behind you. 

Well, fuck it . You just had to make it awkward, didn’t you? For both of you! How embarrassing. He will look at you and treat you differently from now on, you know it already. You're soldiers, for god’s sake! You're professionals! And he’s your superior! These things shouldn’t happen! They should stay out of work. And to think that you've managed to get this far, despite Ghost's strong magnetic pull on you since the first time you saw him... You’ve hidden your emotions so well for months. But unfortunately, no matter how hard you try and succeed at hiding it, you can’t really control your body and how it reacts to his presence, touch, or gaze. This was bound to happen sooner or later, as much as you prayed it wouldn’t. Besides, how could you have even imagined you would find yourself in such a crazy situation at one point? Working with him every day, getting very physical on the field and still keeping your emotions at bay was already enough to drive you insane. There was no way you could have handled this and came out victorious.

But perhaps you could still salvage this somehow, or at the very least escape the horrible truth-spilling conversation that awaits you. Yes, it is possible. You simply need to get the hell away from Ghost, crawl back to your bedroll, attempt to sleep it off, and put the burden aside to deal with it another day. Easier said than done.

Your hands fumble around you, hoping to meet the cold tiles of the floor -rather than those god-like legs stretched at either side of you- and you bend forward in an attempt to hoist yourself up. 

“A-alright, this has been nice-”

A steel-strong arm snakes around your middle and forcefully pulls you back. You gasp as your spine collides with his chest once more. 

Now that you're pressed up against him, even closer than you were before, you can feel his bulge against your lower back and your mouth goes dry.

"Ghost-", your voice comes out in a loud, unsteady squick and he instantly hushes you, tightening the grip around your waist. 

You feel his hot breath caress your ear even through the balaclava. “We’re not done here, yet.”

His hands start to travel up and down your body once again, bolder this time, skimming over areas he hasn't touched before. The hand wrapped around your middle slips under your tank top, fondling the smooth flesh at your side as it raises, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin, until it reaches the upper area of your stomach. There, his fingertips tease the lower curve of your breast from above the fabric of your sports bra. Your breath catches again but you don't dare to move. He holds his palm there for a long minute. 

Is he testing you? Is he messing with you? Is he silently asking for permission to move forward? The affirmative guttural sound that rewards you as you finally throw your morals out the window and boldly place your hand over his and tug it upwards, sweeps away any doubt. His big hand instantly covers your whole breast, groping it gently at first then squeezing it decisively. His other hand comes to match the motion as they both slide inside the cups and fondle your soft sensitive flesh before turning the focus onto your erect nipples, causing you to arch your back forward and shiver. 

“Is this-”, your voice catches in your throat as his fingers pinch your nipples hard, lips squeezing together to muffle a groan, “-why they call you magic hands ?” 

You feel a light chuckle rumble in his chest and against your back.

“You catch up real quick, Sergeant…”, he whispers in your ear in that gravelly voice that makes you squirm, “...but you don’t know the half of it.” And as if on cue, one of his hands sneaks out of your tank top and slides down your stomach, skimming over the inseam of your pants and resting on your crotch, causing a warmth to spread from deep within your stomach. Two fingers push against your core, suggestively and your heart races. Your breaths are ragged in anticipation. 

“Bet you’re desperate to find out, innit?”

You don’t even realize you’re nodding in response until you feel him huff a laugh through his nose, blowing cool air right next to your ear. 

"Curiosity killed the cat, didn't you hear?" 

His palm rubs against your crotch up and down a few times before giving it a firm squeeze. 

You suck in air through your teeth and your hand lands on his thigh at your side, fingers dipping in his firm muscle. 

" Please -" 

You're not sure what you're even begging him for, your mind dazed with desire, and all you can focus on is the heady sensation of having his warm palm rest so close to your aching cunt but still denying you the touch you desperately crave for. 

Ghost doesn't need you to say anything, he clearly knows what you're pleading for and he makes quick work of unzipping your pants before sliding his hand inside. His eager fingers meet your panties which are, unsurprisingly, already soaked; a small detail that he seems to appreciate greatly. He runs his digits over the wet patch on the fabric, eliciting a loud moan from you. 

An abrupt stirring sound freezes you and your head snaps up, heart jumping in your throat, while your eyes dart across the room expecting to meet the shocked expression of one of your brothers. The thought of having been spotted however doesn't seem to stop Ghost from pushing his fingers beneath the damp fabric of your undies. You don't have time to still the violent beating of your heart as he begins to circle his way through your folds, instantly drawing back your whole attention. A harsh whine crawls up your throat when the pad of his finger meets your clitoris and his free hand immediately moves to cover your mouth. His clad lips suddenly draw close to your ear, skin tingling at the contact. 

"You don't want to wake up the boys, do you, kitten?" 

You shake your head profusely and he hums softly. 

"Thought so."

You suppress the cries of pleasure that he provokes by rubbing his fingers up and down over your slit in a slow intoxicating way, your hips shaking with each swipe. He presses his forearm against your stomach to hold your body still, squeezing you closer to him as a result. 

You wince as you hear it; the wet sound of your desire seems to be the only noise in the otherwise silent room and it only grows louder when Ghost teases your entrance, rubbing his pads around it before easily pushing two fingers inside. You screw your eyes shut and throw your head back against his chest. As he thrusts inside you in a steady rhythm, he presses his palm on your most sensitive part, and drags his hand in a firm circle against it. The feeling is dizzying and it sends lightning jolting through you. 

Ghost's hand leaves your mouth to grab your inner thigh and push it over his adjacent knee, spreading your legs wide apart to gain better access to your core and thus shove his fingers deeper inside you. In fact, his next thrust perfectly hits that sacred spot buried deep between your walls and you grasp a fist of his t-shirt and pull it against your lips to muffle your whimpers, while your other hand tugs firmly at his tensed arm lying on your stomach.

You are close, so close. You can feel the heat in your gut begin to bubble and spread, scorching and hair-raising, to the rest of your quivering body. Ghost too seems to notice by the way you tuck into him and clutch at his arm as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded, your safe anchor. His fingers grab your chin and angle your head so that your eyes meet. 

His eyes… his big eyes. The only visible part of his face, the only part you are allowed to lay your gaze on and let it linger. And oh, how beautiful they are. Especially now, glinting with moonshine and looking down at you with a special twinkle which you can’t quite decipher but that makes your heart swell. 

You prompt yourself up in a daze, just enough to cup his cheek and pull him down to meet you in a quite unorthodox kiss. You press your lips desperately to his mask, just above his own and you feel them twitch at the contact, responding to the kiss only a moment later. 

You stay like that while his hand still works against you, faster and sloppier but hitting you perfectly with each push. You keep your lips glued to his as the coiling pleasure in your belly finally snaps, a heady wave of pleasure washes over you and makes your body jerk uncontrollably. Your cries are muffled by the fabric of his mask, even more so when his hand cups the back of your neck and presses you harder against him. He continues to slowly dip his fingers inside your fluttering walls then litter your small bundle of nerves with a few more soft teasing caresses all the while subsiding your spasms with his strong embrace. 

Your eyes are squeezed shut, your chest heaving hard, heart still racing and legs still shaking when his hand slips out of your pants and you pull back. You let your head rest on his chest as you take a deep long breath. Almost instantly a subdued ruffle of fabrics strikes your ear and you can feel a cool breath blowing on your neck before a pair of soft damp lips meet your boiling skin. You bite your lips at the shiver-inducing sensation; it feels like a vital secret shared in utmost confidence and you don’t dare break the touching moment until his lips retreat and the mask is safely put back on. Only then you chance a look up through a heavy-lidded gaze and you meet his beautiful eyes again, which in turn watch your reactions with a hazy, adoring gaze. All is forgotten; the packed room, the initial conflict you felt, the aching muscles… The only thing you can focus on is the tingling sensation abandoning your body, leaving the way to the heartening warmth of his embrace and gaze. 

“Ghost-”

“Simon.”

You gulp, nodding feebly as you reverently search his eyes. 

“Simon…” 

Saying his name feels strange but also… meaningful. Like uttering a magic word or being handed the sole key that unlocks the armored door that keeps the treasure safe; treasure so priceless and vulnerable that only a few trusted people are allowed to take a glimpse at it.

“I’m-” you fail to find the words, mind dazed and heart hammering in your chest, “that was…”

“Kitten got more than she bargained for.” 

You catch an amused hint in his voice and even if you can’t see it, you’re certain there is a smile tugging at his lips, for the corner of his eyes curl up slightly.

“I take it the massage didn't make things worse after all?”

"Well…", you shift in his embrace, turning to face him with a sheepish grin, "that was some effective massage, alright." 

You prompt yourself up and reading your intentions he closes his legs to let you settle on his lap, your knees resting on either side of his hips. His eyes never leave yours as you lean up, arms latching around his neck. 

"Nothing aches anymore thanks to you…", you grind your hips slowly down against his, relishing in the sound of his heavy breathing picking up, "...but maybe it's you now who is in need of a release ?" You bite your lip at the rousing feeling of his throbbing bulge rubbing against your still sensitive center, as well as at the rare thrilling satisfaction of seeing him crane his head slightly up to look at you. 

His hands descend on your hips, fingers almost painfully gripping the flesh, causing you to groan.

"I wouldn't mind it one bit kitten, believe me…", his lust-clouded eyes rake over your body. You see him swallow hard as he glances down where your hips meet and a long breath escapes his lips. His gaze then trails back up, savoring every inch of you, until it finally locks with yours once again. "But you should hit the sack now."

Disappointment shows plainly on your face.

"But-" 

"Besides, I'm on second watch tonight."

"T-That’s good! I can sneak out to keep you company. I'm not sleepy! Even less now than before. We can-" 

" Negative .” His tone is peremptory and it shuts you up at once. “And don’t fret. You’ll be asleep before your head hits the mat.”

" But -" 

His hands slide up your sides and squeeze your waist, pulling you down to sit on his thighs and hold you at eye level.

"We're taking a rain check, Sergeant."

The title again. His words are final, then. 

A huge sigh escapes you and you nod at last. Reluctantly, you climb out of his lap, his hands following your every movement to support you. Before you stand on your feet and turn around, you chance one last look at him. Your heart swells as you meet once more his big beautiful eyes which look at you so gently, so wistfully… you think you can catch the promise behind them.

"Don't you dare die tomorrow, Simon."

The corners of his eyes curl up again. 

"Surely not on your watch, Kitten."

MORE STORIES 🥀

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

RAHH HELLO! just wanted to preface by saying I love the way you characterize everyone in your writing; everything on my dash that I've read genuinely seems like it came straight from the game and it's so very, very impressive that you understand the characters well enough to extrapolate actions and dialogue to this degree. Because I'm sick of Diasomnia (/j /sarcasm. I love them, but two irl years for this book has me up the wall rn), i've been microwaving Book 5 in my brain, and I have sooo many thoughts about how Epel was handled, and I was curious if you have any particularly strong opinions on it. After the motorbike-beach scene, Epel just sort of. Does a 180 and fully accepts Vil's position that being effeminate and cute/overall beauty as a strength-- which I think you've touched on in a post-- and it baffles me that it's so one-and-done, especially considering the writers seems to be pretty good at conveying that change is a slow, and gradual process that, for most of the game, happens behind the scenes. For a hot second, I thought it was because Epel wasn't the overblotter, and therefore, wasn't the main focus and could hypothetically get away with such a sudden revelation being swept under the rug, but when Kalim and Jamil are right there, still working through the effects of their book, the reasoning kind of falls flat.

Anyways, yeah-- apologies for yammering (I hope my brain alphabet soup makes sense) -- have a wonderful day :D

Hello, hello ^^ and thank you for the compliments on my characterization!! bdavvwkskdk I’m quite proud of that aspect of my craft 👉 👈 😳 If you’d like to hear more about how I write dialogue, I talked about it in this post!

It’s about to be 2 years and 10 months of book 7… Can you believe that—

Yes, I’ve previously expressed that I think Epel’s character growth in book 5 + acceptance of Vil’s teachings happens much too quickly. It’s basically a flip of the switch after the beach scene, which is VERY weird considering that 1) these outdated gender stereotypes have been ingrained in Epel for 16 years of his life; they shouldn’t be easily changed and 2) most other character arcs in Twst take place over much longer stretches of time and in ways far subtler than this. Like??? He comes back from the beach and suddenly he’s apologizing to Vil and acknowledging the “power of beauty”??? Even offering to take Vil’s place in their performance after the OB??? Almost proudly claiming that he has “grown way stronger and more charming”??? That’s such a fast turnaround after like six months of being at NRC and being largely against Vil’s ideology.

I think the writers’ intention was to show how Epel’s mindset has changed in book 5 so that it leads into and fuels the eventual development of his UM in book 6. Pre-book 5 Epel would have never developed a more passive and protective spell like Sleep Kiss (Crimson Slumber in EN)?? And then if you look even farther ahead at book 7, Epel has to be comfortable enough with his gender identity to get up on that VDC/SDC stage and sing and dance his heart out to wake up Rook. I should also note that Epel’s dream segment ties for the shortest at a measly 4 parts, which… seems to imply he truly has taken Vil’s values to heart???? Because the muscular version of Epel we see is implied to be a shallow depiction of his desires and we even see his dream!Vil praise him for his beauty in order to placate Epel and lure him back to sleep.

So yeah 💀 Epel’s development definitely feels… rushed to me. It’s part of why I don’t find his character compelling. I get why the writers tried to write him the way they did though; they obviously wanted his growth to happen now to set up for the pay-off that would happen in books 6 + 7, and those pay-offs might not be “earned” if Epel didn’t have his arc beforehand. I think there are better ways they could have done this, though… Book 6 is so long. Surely there was room somewhere in there to have Epel’s development to continue, particularly in the segments where he was traveling with Rook or exploring the depths with his Pomefiore senpai. Book 5 could have also been written in a manner so it feels less like Epel’s total acceptance of Vil’s beliefs and more like him beginning to consider them. The development should have been more evenly distributed and stretched out over the course of books 5 and 6, not all crammed into 5.

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Day 1 of @hprecfest - First fic you read/first fic you remember reading

I started reading in the early 2000s, before HBP was published, so this is a tricky one to start off with! I vividly remember reading along to Cassandra Clare's Draco Trilogy and Maya's Underwater Light - both WIPs at the time, and neither freely available now 💀 if anyone else was around then, though, I have compiled a reclist of Vintage Drarry Fics (2001-2006, including such classics as Irresistible Poison, Beautiful World, Seamus is Seamus, and Love Under Will).

The fic I've chosen to rec today is the one that brought me back into fandom after a decade out; indirectly I suppose it's the reason I'm here at all, and so perhaps the lesson for any creators reading this is that you'll truly never know the impact your works have, even decades down the line!

Transfigurations, by Resonant : E, 71k, 2003 (MCD warning, but not for Drarry)

Summary: Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

Excerpt:

"You're going to have to talk about it sooner or later, Harry," she said. "I know it's hard for you, but --"

"Hermione --" He looked over her shoulder, searching for something that would distract her.

He succeeded a little better than he would have liked. First he caught a flash of pale hair in the shadows behind the top table. Then the shape came clear. An expensively tailored robe, an expensively bejewelled hand, an expensively barbered head, an expensively curled lip --

Was he never going to be free of Draco Malfoy?

Hermione followed Harry's eyes, and then she straightened up suddenly, crying, "Draco!" and ran to clasp Malfoy. Harry stared dumbly after her. "Mother sent a book for you, and some biscuits, they're in here somewhere --"

"Never mind that," Malfoy said, hugging her roughly. Harry felt a pang of fury. Since when was Hermione so cozy with Malfoy? "What I want to know is, did Mrs. Spenser ever find Bratleigh's tooth?"

"Oh, yes, it turned out to be in his little brother's forearm -- but how are you getting on without mechanical pencils?"

"Musgrove's Magic Pencils are nearly as good, though not quite so satisfying to click ..." Harry watched their two heads bent together, the dark and the fair. They were exactly the same height, like a matched set of figurines. Something extremely strange must have happened while he was in Florida.

Malfoy was still affecting the look of a wizard-bard from a storybook, Harry thought scornfully: pale hair falling to his shoulders, deep-plum robe heavily embroidered in the same color around the collar, narrow hands heavy with silver rings. Harry hadn't remembered his mouth being quite so red.

He looked up and caught Harry looking, and something crossed his face that wasn't quite the expected sneer. Hermione was tugging him over by the arm. "Harry just got in today from America, Draco, he didn't tell anybody he was coming, I think he forgot how to write a letter --"

"He's forgotten a lot of things, I imagine," Malfoy drawled, but he offered a hand. "Potter. Welcome back."

Damn it, even his languid, lingering handshake felt as though there was an insult behind it.

Where to start with this fic? The premise is that following the war, Harry left for Florida, settling down with a group of Indigenous wixen as they worked to set up a new school of wizardry. He returns, five years later, to a Hogwarts in trouble, rife with traps and curses laid by Death Eaters long gone, and to his old friends, whose letters he'd mostly ignored during his time abroad. Many of the old faces are familiar, but the addition of Malfoy, now, inexplicably, best friends with Hermione and Professor of Muggle Studies, irritates Harry beyond belief. Worst of all, when it comes to Cursebreaking, Harry and Malfoy's magic works best in sync, so to their horror they find themselves paired together as they work to make the school safe on its reopening.

There are so very many things to love about this fic. The narrative tone feels very true to canon, as does Harry's voice; possibly a result of its being published while the books were still coming out, but unlike many of the other fics written back then, it has a very adult feel. It's set entirely in Hogwarts, and with a huge cast of supporting characters, including a sneering, dramatic statue of the deceased Professor Snape, sexy handyman Ron, COMC Professor Charlie Weasley, and some wonderfully endearing OCs. The writing's lovely and clean, sparing, but still very visual, and full of worldbuilding details so unique and rich you'll be thinking about them years later (trust me). And the relationship development is truly second to none; we come to love this Malfoy reluctantly, but so so deeply, along with Harry. Also, this fic has, to me, the original rushed sex in a bathroom stall scene, and one of the sexiest undressing scenes you'll ever read. I absolutely adore it, can quote huge chunks, and every single time I read it it brings back everything I love about the world of Harry Potter. Go and add it to your MFL, and you can thank me later <3

If you read it, and if especially you love it, please do let me know! And as always, please do take the time to leave the author a kudos/comment <3

[astrologylunadream]

Their Deepest Desires of You💀🔞🖤 [SPICY] (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hey it's Lunadream and for my beautiful souls we are doing a reading on what your person's deepest desires are of you🖤 hope you find your message🗝

(Things get spicy🔥 Darker themes are included)

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^v^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~💋🖤

Pile 1📿

Pile 2🥀

Pile 3🎹

Pile 4💄

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 🗝🖤

Pile 1📿

Sign energy: Hug from behind, Imagination, Fight, Royalty, Bend, Sun, Leo, Mars, 12th house, South node, 🧜‍♂️🍪🍷😔

💀Your person's energy: Ohh this is someone very captivating and alluring. They light up the room when they walk in, strong assertive/dominant energy for this pile's person. Leo, Aries and Pisces placements but mostly fiery energy. Could Leo mars or mars conjunct sun in their chart. I'm seeing ripped jeans and leather jackets as their thing, they unconsciously command attention even when they aren't trying at all😭 So independent and I feel like your person just knows they are untouchable omg they are so regal and effortlessly attract people because they are just so classy and stunning also hot lmao😂♥️ Siren energy, They ooze confidence but not in a cocky way but a subtle "I know what I'm worth" type way😎👌 Some of you have fought with this person or thought they had it out for you but it was just because they seem so fierce and intimidating, There are such high class vibes from your person, I feel like they spoil themselves in a good way. King/Queen vibes👑 You may be a little delusional over this person😂😂 Sometimes feeling overlooked or ignored by your person since attention is on them usually. They have you fantasizing hot scenarios about them LOL your imagination goes wild for this person🥵💭

🖤Their deepest desires of you: Pisces, Valentine, Fit, Trust, Boundaries, North node, Lilith, Libra, Leo, 11th house, 🏃‍♀️📆🤴🟪 My pile 1's this is getting interestingggg😉 Oh god they desire trust so much with you and loyalty too. It's quite funny because they desire healthy boundaries and almost more friendship dynamic with you but then they deeply desire unleashing their dark side on you and getting in deep..🥵👿🖤 Oml they have so many desires for this pile and like, how can it be so wholesome and so horny at the same time?? They want your full attention and I'm seeing a definite desire for a future with you🥺♡ They want you to take them places they never knew (spiritual and all) and the most prominent message is that they deeply desire a romantic partnership with my pile 1's🙊💞 They want to date you I'm hearing, and they are someone who deeply craves your attention and affection. They desire a full devotion from you as if they are your queen/king, they want your heart to be bound to them and them only.😚🖤 Ahh your person really desires a deep intimate and loving connection with you guys, so sweet. Devotion, dedication, loyalty, sweet moments, long stares, being true to one another, hot intimacy, naughtiness, valentines day with you, spoiling you rotten, these are all things they desire deeply with you my lovely pile 1~

💋Messages from your person: You're causing me pain, You leave me wondering, I told myself to quit, You aren't thinking rationally, I thought I was going crazy, You might get scared, Don't be so negative, Imagine if I kissed you, You are my sunshine, Your body is mine (🙈🥵😳) Extra cards: Inner thoughts, Prison, Neck, Height, Sun, 1st house, Sun, Venus, Vertex, Gemini (You are their light in the darkness☀️🥺)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🖤

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the emoji~ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💋

Pile 2🥀

Sign energy: Virgo, Boundaries, Options, Emotions, Fine, Venus, Mars, 10th house, Taurus, Air, 🧊🧚‍♀️🆓️💪

💀Your person's energy: This is a very lovely person on pile 2's mind, they radiate beauty and grace as well as a light presence about them. Lots of air and earth energy, they could be a Virgo, Taurus or Capricorn. Any of the air signs, especially Libra is likely. They may have Venus in Virgo or Mars in the 10th house. I'm seeing someone very capable and analytical, very successful in many ways. I think they are rather reserved in terms of relationships, they may even suppress their desires when it comes to romance and intimacy. I just heard "I don't give myself out for free" that could be them they may be sceptical of sharing themselves in a relationship.🖤🤚 Your person could be famous or well known, successful entrepreneur or business owner, or simply has many opportunities. They may work in the beauty industry or in a more feminine environment (could work around more females). I think both men and women admire and are attracted this person, they have qualities that many wish they had. I heard they make your heart flutter🦋 Also your person may be chill and say they are fine a lot and it may seem like they have very few emotions, but they do think a lot in their head and may worry about little things.💭

🖤Their deepest desires of you: Head, Feelings, Nice, Dark thoughts, Fast, Venus, Pisces, 9th house, 10th house, Vertex, 📱🧍‍♂️🦥🐍 Ahh my pile 2's your person gets dark thoughts so quick about you like it just comes out of nowhere and then suddenly they hold onto those thoughts and can't stop thinking about them🧠👿😰 Omg and your person thinks you have nice thighs/hips and legs too and they deeply desire this about you.🥰 They love seeing photos of you and think you look really attractive on screen (do with that info as you will👀🙈) They desire soft loving and ever expanding feelings with you, and deeply desire dreaming of you~💤😇 They love the way you creep around their mind, and they tend to desire thoughts of bossing you around or dominating you. (omg) They want to hold you tight and love thinking about doing so, wrapping you in their embrace so you can't get out without begging🥵 They have these types of thoughts they desire with you. You know what I think they really want to dominate you the most, holding you down or restraining you is what they REALLY desire deeply like oml they have an intense desire for that with you my pile 2's. They want to meet their fantasies as well as yours, and drown in pleasure with you. They wanna make you theirs fast so nothing can tear you two apart🥺♡

💋Messages from your person: I hope you feel better, You might get hurt, I know you're crazy over me, I can't even, I wish I could, It doesn't matter to me, I can save you, I need someone, I don't think dark thoughts about you, Give me more (Omg playing innocent but the thoughts don't lie😂😈) Extra cards: Beach, Art, Matching, Diamond, Sweetheart, 7th house, North node, 6th house, Aquarius, Venus (Aww pile 2 your person wants to be your lover and know they want a future with you!!!💖)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🖤

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the emoji~ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💋

Pile 3🎹

Sign energy: World, Self reflection, Binded, Hold on, Health, Water, 10th house, Sun, Pisces, North node, 🌊😖🔝🦁

💀Your person's energy: Aww I'm getting soft lion vibes from your person, like they wanna be fierce and assert dominance but they are such a literal sweetheart.😢💞💖 My pile 3's may have fell in love with this person's emotional side, they are so soft and imaginative. Pisces energy is strong in this pile, also soft Leo placements especially 12th house, also Capricorn placements are present. I can see them starimg at their reflection in the water a lot, or that could be how they see themselves from a illusive ever changing view. This is someone you see yourself with in the future, and omg this person really reminds you of yourself. They inspire you that's what I'm hearing, like they make you wanna be your best most successful self😟💝❤ So sweet I honestly love the way my pile 3's look at this person with just so much awe and admiration!! They make you feel emotional even if you aren't usually, you feel like this is your other half. You feel like they are apart of your identity in some way, and they give you a sense of pride.🥰 You guys are so cute and for some of you this person is a nature activist or wants to help save the planet, some of my pile 3's person are into veganism and healthcare. Now they could live near an ocean or beach and want to help clean beaches. Many of you wish to hold on to this connection.

🖤Their deepest desires of you: Eyelashes, Question, Out, Prince, Learn, Capricorn, 9th house, 12th house, Pisces, Vertex, 🟨🧍‍♂️🤨🥊 Okay so I'm getting that for some of you this person may be more on the innocent side, I mean they could be very "out of the loop" I'm hearing (I mean in terms of intimacy💋) I feel their energy is more lost and confused about what exactly they desire with you. It is inevitable that they will ask a lot of questions and need to learn a lot more about their kinks/what pleases them. But for my pile 3's your person is definitely ready to learn for you, they want to discover every way to thrill you and do it just right.🖤 They also desire to get high from you and be more in touch with their spirituality with you, they really want to feel outer-body experiences with my pile 3's just like things that take them higher☁️ (could desire using substances to get high with you for some🍷). Your person wants to dream of you and learn more about yours and their darkest fantasies they aren't aware of. For some of you this person has some masochistic desires for you or them🤯 I'm hearing they wanna "knock you out" could be physical pleasure or they could desire to have you unconscious and have fun from there wtf🥵🥵🥵 Wow I didn't expect that but it makes sense, they wanna have you vulnerable and helpless a little. Their deepest desires are to learn your unconcious mind and surprise you with things you don't even know you like😈😰😰 Wow this is crazy pile 3 your person wants to learn it ALL.

💋Messages from your person: You scare me sometimes, I can feel your pain, I can be your fantasy, Oh my god, I'm bleeding, It's so painful, I'm obsessed with you, My angel, This is all my fault, You make me angry (Wow the passion is insane with your person🤯😫♥️) Extra cards: Ego, Attraction, Violence, Violate, Lilith, 8th house, Pluto, 9th house, North node, 3rd house (WOW this just got crazy I'll just tell you they literally want to make you moan wtf for some of you this person literally wants to be SO aggresive and intense in ways that bring you pain and pleasure🥵👿 Using your hands thighs, and legs... They wanna show you their dark side wtf take what resonates of course.)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🖤

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the emoji~ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💋

Pile 4💄

Sign energy: Pessimist, Museum, Quiet place, Optimist, On, Uranus, Pisces, 11th house, Venus, Scorpio, 😫👊🍓🙊

💀Your person's energy: Ooh we got some very scorpio vibes, intense energy. This could be a Scorpio Venus or Venus in 11th house, maybe Capricorn rising for some of you. Pisces, Aquarius, Libra, Taurus. Your person has a more introverted vibe, they don't talk that much. But they are very unique, I feel themselves do all the talking them. They have unique sensual charms about them, even though they don't think so. They prefer to be in their home, that is when they are the most happy or in a good mood.🏠🖤 They are very sweet once observed further, if you give them time you will definitely notice how soft they can be on the inside. This could be a friend, or someone close to you like that but maybe they don't talk much. They are very gloomy though, always thinking the worst especially when it comes to close relationships and intimacy. They feel that making close friends/partners will end shortly after it begins, and they will be hurt again. So they can be very guarded and have bad associations about making close connections. They fight their unconscious social needs for others on a deeper level, and they tell themselves they don't need it.👥☹

🖤Their deepest desires of you: Push, Defensive, Spotlight, Holding hands, Meeting, 4th house, Virgo, 11th house, Mercury, 12th house, 🎁🔮🤤🔭 My pile 4's your person has some deep feelings for you, they desire to hold hands with you🥰💕 Aww now I'm getting that your person is really shy and/or defensive about their desires with you, they would feel uncomfortable to tell you themselves. They may feel like it is better if you know through other means such as divination or tarot, yeah I definitely don't see them opening up about this any time soon😂🖤 My pile 4's your person has a deep desire to have a very caring and healing connection with you, a relationship like a close friendship they long for but feel they can never keep or don't exist entirely. That's why they desire this with you, because all they truly want is close relationship almost like a best friend.😢 Your person desires being with you often, and they also sort of want your close relationships to be theirs too. May have the desire to have the same friends as you, they also desire attention from trusted circles people you know. Your person really desires you in a very sweet way, they want to give you gifts like matching bracelets and things best friends would do. It's not so much in a friendzone way but because they really want to be close like that with someone.🤧💌🖤

💋Messages from your person: I have no boundaries with you, Tell me how you really feel, This is all your fault, I won't let bad things happen to you, It's love at first sight, Don't let them treat you that way, Why not? I wanna thrill you, These emotions are too intense, I feel like a ghost (Ahh they don't know what to do with themselves😨) Extra cards: Risk, Obsession, Heartbreak, Mindfulness, Queen, Beauty & the beast, Scorpio, Saturn, Mars, Lilith, Uranus (Omg you guys this person is holding back such intense emotions and heavy passion they are so into my pile 4's but they don't wanna risk getting hurt anymore so they don't want to share their dark side or fall to deep into an obsession with you guys oml they don't want to spiral out of control with this intense passion for youuu🥺🖤)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🖤

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the emoji~ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💋

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

[darkfictionjude]

Okay so I know this is a touchy subject already especially since certain people have already been bitchy about it before, but sometimes Crowny is genuinely difficult to play as. I feel super conflicted about them since they're the literal personification of "damn bitch you live like this?"

Realistically, progress isn't linear and different people get different results even if they do the exact same thing, but as of now it feels like they aren't really allowed to improve at all. If you study you're still mediocre leaning towards bad in terms of understanding. You try to workout you see absolutely no results, not even the tiniest bit. When it comes to the other characters, it's always one step forward and two steps back. When you give them a hobby or try to get them to pick up a skill they find little enjoyment. When people bother them they barely fight back or even argue, and when they do it's like a sarcastic quip or a grumble at most. By the end, they haven't even made a dent. These don't make them less of a person and it doesn't make them a failure since the world is quite literally out to get them, but it's like they aren't allowed any satisfaction in their life. (Yeah it's been like a month, maybe barely scratching two in the current timeline so maybe this contradicts what I first said about progress but I'm dumb as hell)

It's wild to go from the side quests, backstory segments, interactions with the ROs and then Crown family just for all the hype to fade when there's a segment with just Crowny all alone. I know that there's a reason for why they are the way they are, but I literally have to take breaks from reading their solitary moments sometimes because it seems to drag on. I know things aren't easy in this universe, I know the world is supposed to be cruel and unfair, but like can they at least get a cake for their efforts? Or a hug? Or be able to sleep through one night and wake up well rested?

I hope I'm not sounding like an asshole or a insane here. Personally, they're relatable in a lot of aspects. I may not have had supernatural shit going after me, but I had a lot of issues that many of their experiences brush way too close to. It's just the way it's presented that makes them feel like they're like the random piece of chewy cartilage in an otherwise perfectly cooked steak, unpleasant but I'm gonna eat it anyway.

I literally just wrote a whole ass book complaining, but I at least wanna say I do love your work, Crowny included even if my words seem to say otherwise, and I'm super excited to see what happens in the timeskip since i know this is like JUST the beginning. I'm like seriously praying my tone is coming off the right way if that's even possible. If you read through all this thanks. I'm not gonna hide behind anon because I at least wanna be able to explain myself if this comes across wrong.

but like can they at least get a cake for their efforts? Or a hug? Or be able to sleep through one night and wake up well rested?

Well no 😭😭

And that comes from the fact that they are self loathing, depressed as hell and have virtually no support system while dealing with things that they aren’t mature enough to handle, actually their mental health is getting far worse which is by design

I feel like perhaps some readers have not realized just how depressed crowny is. All the things you described about them finding little enjoyment, etc., are key markers of major clinical depression

I feel also people did miss the fact that crowny kind of exploded in the library they didn’t shut up, they didn’t let it go which I think is a positive because this is the first time they’ve have enough to say “enough”

Sorry but I like my things slow burn 💀 that Halloween party is meant to be a breakthrough for them and I think perhaps it’s been glossed over by some because what happened to James has gotten the most attention and the final moment in the woods. Crowny outed their “friends” for the first ever and fought back against their tormentor in only one single night. James for all his issues did the one thing that broke the camel’s back and pushed Crowny over the edge, all 7 episodes have led to this

Crowny is meant to fall before they come up that’s how I wanted it because realistically someone could not handle all of this without losing their mind. It has barely been two months, Crowny has only seriously hit the main plot in episode 4 which in the current timeline was about 3 weeks ago (from episode 7)

Truly the progress that crowny did make in episode 7 should have taken longer, people with crowny’s issues spend years in therapy before they feel they have the right to fight back.

There’s a reason episode 7 is the midseason finale. It’s not only about the plot but about crowny themself….

Dw you’re tune is fine I can usually tell when someone doesn’t think before they write 😭

[thedollydiaries]

Can you do William and Afab!Reader snugglefucking?

snugglefucking 🥺🫶

i hope this is to your tastes sweet nonnie <3

MINORS DNI !!

william afton x afab!reader

word count: 450

warnings: soft smut, snugglefuck, very very light dubcon/somnophilia (reader is like half asleep and consent is not direclty given but is implied/refrenced consent has been arranged beforehand), 18+, probably ooc william afton bc it's soft (they're both sleepy)

a/n: i'm a virgin and that's probably gonna be very obvious from how i write smut, my only experience with sex is the fact that i've been reading fanfics since i was 10 so literally 10, almost 11 years💀 that said, please bear with me >.< as always, reader is afab and referred to with some "fem" petnames, but identifying gender is not specified.

a/n 2.0: also i wrote this at my grandparents' house while tipsy💅

a/n 3.0: soooooo all the stuff i wrote while drunk at my grandparents' house got deleted because tumblr is a lil BITCH and ngl i forgot most of what i wrote so i hope this version is okay. i may come back and rewrite this again and make it a little longer just because i feel awful about taking so long to get this out

--------

your eyes were still blurry with sleep in the early morning as you felt your husband slipping your underwear down your legs as he laid behind you, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as he slid the obstructing fabric off your body.

you glanced over to check the time, 04:46. you supposed william had woken for work and was feeling rather needy, taking advantage of your previously established arrangement. one both of you took advantage of often.

"mornin' darling, didn't mean to wake you." a lie.

"morning will.. 's okay."

"just relax for me, sweet."

and with his voice so sweet and husky, hoarse with the grogginess of having just woken minutes before you, how could you not relax? his touch moving slowly up your thigh, teasing you just so, before he places a calloused finger to your clit, rubbing slow and teasing circles.

a soft hum of pleasure escapes your lips at his sensual touch, spurring the brit on more. his finger slipping down to slip inside you, curling the digit against the spongy spot deep inside you.

"that's it sweetheart, takin' it so well..." william muttered into your ear lowly as he pressed kisses and nibbles to your neck, slipping a second finger into your throbbing cunt.

william relished in the sounds of your sleepy moans, hips bucking into his hands slightly as he drove his fingers into you at a languid pace. the lewd sounds of your slick against his palm filling both your ears.

feeling his long fingers slip out of you, you let out a broken whine at the loss, only to be met with the feeling of his tip pressing to your core.

"shh, don't complain angel. quit your whining, i'll give you what you want."

"will, please..." you gasped out, begging him so sweetly for something he wasn't even denying you.

william lifts one of your legs gently, moving it back just so to place it back on his thigh as he pushed himself up into you from behind, making sure to go slow as he pushed in, wanting both to be careful with you as well as torture you with his sluggish pace.

soft, broken moans leave both your lips as he slowly pushes in, taking his sweet time bottoming out. once he does he starts a slow, torturous drag, in and out, in and... out.

"fuck, doll. feels good, nice and tight for me, yeah?" william grunts into your ear, his right hand coming down and sliding across your front, making it's way down your stomach to meet your clit once more.

you could never tire of waking up like this, and perhaps you'd have to return the favour tomorrow.