#so in theory i should be. going to bed. right now. and yet. sigh

[theyarebothgunshot]

this is the part of vacation that i absolutely hate: the night before you have to go back to work again.

[darkmatilda]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer needs your help examining a crucial piece of evidence...but the moment he sees you, his mind goes blah blah blah...proper name, place name, backstory stuff...

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist! female reader, same reader as in pick your poison but you don’t need to read that first—there aren’t any major references, suggestion that the reader engages in casual hook ups, reader has a belly button piercing and a described outfit, spencer's pov only

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @trulymadlydarling it was slowly gathering dust in my inbox 😭 sorry!

"I think the threshold of my lab isn't exactly the best place for camping."

A woman's silhouette cast a shadow over Spencer as she appeared right above him in the dimly lit hallway.

Spencer sighed in frustration and hauled himself to his feet. As he brushed off his pants, he kept his eyes off the woman in front of him.

"Well, I didn't think you'd make me wait fifty-eight—"

"Oh, just say the hour. Is rounding numbers really that hard for you?" she scoffed, her voice carrying a trace of genuine curiosity. She swiped her access card, unlocking the door to the lab. With her back turned to him, he took in her appearance—an oversized fur coat draped over her shoulders, a designer handbag hanging from one arm. His gaze drifted downward, and to his surprise, he noticed…pajama pants and slippers?

"You should be grateful I even bothered to show up at this hour," she added.

"This is really important," Spencer replied as she led him inside.

She moved through the space with effortless familiarity, heading straight for the light switch. Well, this was her domain, after all—the place where she spent most of her days.

"I don't care," she replied. "Unless you've found proof that Marilyn Monroe was the Zodiac Killer all along—then, well, I care a little. Honestly, you have no idea how much you owe me for showing up..."

He rolled his eyes.

"Should I be thanking you on my knees, or...?"

"I could have been busy. I could have been out with the girls at a club. I could have been having the night of my life..."

"I get it, you made a huge sacrifice answering my request, but can you now—"

"I could have been in bed already. My own. Or not my own," she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Though in that case, I wouldn’t have picked up."

Spencer simply sighed. By now, he was used to it—the way most of their conversations followed the same pattern. How she always set the pace, steering the direction as she pleased. How she sometimes deliberately ignored his words and didn’t care if it made her seem rude. How, in general, she didn’t care what impression she left on others.

He had witnessed it countless times, found it irritating every single time, and yet—every single time—he kept the conversation going. Funny.

She switched on only one of the lights, leaving the room bathed in a soft twilight. Her handbag landed on the long counter beside one of the microscopes, and she tossed her fur coat next to it, completely unconcerned about knocking something over.

Sometimes, he watched her with quiet fascination—the effortless confidence in her movements—and wondered if she had ever, even once, smacked her hip against a doorframe. Or stubbed her toe on a cabinet. Those small, mundane humiliations and everyday mishaps simply didn’t seem to fit with who she was.

He tightened his grip on the plastic bag he had brought with him, the one containing something that needed to be examined. The team didn’t know about it yet.

The thought, the theory, had quite literally yanked him out of sleep. He couldn’t function without checking this lead immediately. But he knew that if he went through the lab, he’d have to wait until morning for the results…so he decided to ask for a friendly favor.

Okay friendly was a big word.

They had known each other for a few months, worked together on several cases, gone on a date, slept together.

Not necessarily in that order.

He was just about to open his mouth, say something, hand her the bag… when, for the first time, he actually saw her in better light than the dim glow—or rather, lack of it—in the hallway. Against his own will, his gaze started its journey over her.

From the slippers on her feet, up the loose pajama pants that ended just below the piercing in her navel, the black camisole with thin straps, to her face—completely free of makeup.

Until now, he had only seen her in two versions. One was her usual, elegant work attire. The other was her evening look—form-fitting, designed to turn heads and keep them there.

On second thought, there was also a third version. Without clothes.

But he had never seen her like this. Casual, comfortable, dressed for nothing more than wandering the walls of her own apartment.

She lifted her arms to tie her hair into a ponytail, and her shirt rode up slightly.

“If my piercing fascinates you that much, I can give you my piercer’s number,” she offered dryly, a fleeting smirk on her lips as she caught his stare. He immediately snapped his gaze back to her face, cursing internally when he realized he probably looked like he had been caught staring. Which, of course, he hadn’t been. “Excellent work. Full professionalism. Experienced hands…”

"I need you to check this stain," he interrupted, raising the bag.

They had been talking too much, and he really needed to know if his suspicions were correct.

She stepped closer to take the bag from him.

“Is this a crucial piece of evidence, or can I touch it?”

“You can touch it…”

She stopped just a step away, shifting her weight onto one hip and tilting her head to get a better look.Spencer instinctively straightened, feeling a strange tension along his spine.Earlier, he had been looking at what she was wearing. Now, what caught his attention was how she looked.

There’s a certain kind of beauty you never quite get used to, no matter how often you see it. The kind that, every time, knocks the air from your lungs for just a second—that fleeting disbelief that someone like this actually walks the earth.

She had it. She radiated it.

And she was just a step away.

She took the garment out of the bag. It was a red turtleneck sweater. She lifted it higher toward the light, furrowing her brow as she examined the stain.

Spencer’s gaze fell on her beautiful face, her eyes shimmering slightly, her lower lip slightly pursed in thought.

Suddenly, she scoffed, snapping him back to reality.

"Mystery solved, and I didn’t even need a microscope," she said, shoving the sweater back into his hands. As he took it, his fingers brushed against hers, catching him slightly off guard. "It’s foundation. I’d recognize that stain anywhere. So, hooray, happy to help, no need to put me in the case report, have a good night, and see you—"

He grabbed her wrist before she could step away, stopping her in place.

"This isn’t a joke," he said, his voice dropping, tinged with sudden irritation.She raised an eyebrow at both his tone and the way he—unintentionally—closed the distance between them. As usual, she looked him straight in the eyes, and as usual, it was hard not to be drawn in. But he tried, because this case was really consuming his thoughts. "Listen, I called you because I need someone to actually test it. Not just glance at it. It'll only take a moment, and then you can go back to crawling into bed with whoever you want. Can you do that?"

The second-to-last sentence made her expression shift slightly.

For a moment, they stood there, unwavering, eyes locked without so much as a blink. Then, the corners of her lips tugged upward—just barely. But it felt more like a forced gesture, an attempt to maintain her carefully practiced expression, rather than a sign of genuine amusement.

"Alright," she replied softly. Not to be mistaken for shyly. There was nothing shy about her, a fact he was reminded of constantly.

"I’ll test it, since it matters so much to you. And then I’m going back to bed." A slow blink before she yanked the sweater from his hands. "With whoever I want."

Why did swallowing suddenly stop being an automatic reflex and turn into something he had to consciously work through?

"That’s great," he said shortly, dryly. He could feel himself slipping into the trap again, letting her toy with him. "Have fun."

"I will."

With that simple assurance, she walked away, and the very particles of air around him seemed to loosen, finally allowing him to breathe again. He turned after her instinctively, the way a swivel chair spins when someone sets it in motion.

She crossed the lab table and leaned over an empty workstation—empty, like all the others. The entire width of the counter separated them now, along with the return of cool detachment to her face. Slowly, Spencer rested his hands on the smooth surface, watching as she got to work. Watching as her hair bounced slightly with the shift in position. Watching as her jaw tensed in concentration. Watching as she leaned over the workstation slightly.

"So," she began flatly, not pausing her work or even looking at him.

Spencer gave his head a small shake, realizing that this time, he really had been staring. At least she hadn’t seen it.

"What exactly am I testing?"

His gaze drifted to her again.

"Something related to the case."

"Wow, I never would've guessed."

He was too distracted to mentally slap himself for how pathetic he was. 

"Uh, it’s not exactly groundbreaking," he began.

He could focus—he just had to try hard enough. He just had to clear the lingering trace of her scent from when she’d stood so close. Had to shake off the echo of her words. With whoever I want, she had said. The more he thought about it, the more accurate it seemed. He firmly believed she could have whoever she wanted. With that confidence. With that face. With that body…

"That’s why I’m checking it after hours. Just, you know…backstory stuff…"

A sound escaped her lips—somewhere between a scoff of disbelief and a startled laugh. She looked at him—no, she pinned him with her gaze.

"Backstory stuff?" she repeated, her lips curling into a smile. Not even a mocking one anymore. She was genuinely amused. "Did you, Doctor Spencer Reid, when asked what the evidence pertains to, actually respond with backstory stuff…?"

“No, I…I mean…”

“Oh God, it’s a good thing they don’t put you in front of cameras. Imagine you, at a press conference. Just casually dropping backstory stuff on national television…”

“I can handle myself in front of cameras,” he clarified, feeling an odd warmth creep up the back of his neck. “But there aren’t any here. And besides, I didn’t realize you wanted me to recite the entire case file from memory…”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said with another amused snort. “Backstory stuff is actually a surprisingly accurate term. You know, very professional.”

He rolled his eyes, feigning irritation, though what he really felt was more akin to embarrassment.

“Speaking of professionalism, maybe you could get back to work?” he suggested.

“I don’t have to,” she replied, flashing him a sweet smile. “I already checked everything. And I was wrong. It’s not foundation—it’s nitroglycerin.”

Spencer’s jaw practically hit the floor.

For the first time since stepping into the lab, his mind was running at full capacity.

"Nitroglycerin? Are you sure?"

"Well, I don’t get these things wrong," she said, almost offended.

"Nitroglycerin," he repeated in a whisper.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Suddenly, everything made sense.

She leaned her elbows on the table, watching him with interest.

He wanted to kiss her.

No—he did not—

"Thank you," he blurted out, her words becoming background noise as his thoughts raced. "Thank you for coming. This…this really helps. I have to tell the team—"

He turned toward the door, dazed by the realization.

Something stopped him.

"Spencer," she called gently.

She didn’t seem angry that he was leaving so abruptly. If anything, there was a certain soft glint in her eyes, a quiet fascination with his sudden revelation. Standing in the doorway, he looked at her one last time, feeling himself freeze in place again. He said nothing, sensing that she wanted to say something instead.

She tilted her head slightly.

"You owe me a favor," she said.

There was something about the way she said it—something that sent a slow, deliberate shiver down his spine. Not even a shiver. More like a careful march of cold fingertips down his vertebrae.

So, naturally, he did what any grown man with an IQ of 187 would do.

He parted his lips slightly and nodded.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Press One for Love, Two for Regret

Chapter 2

Summary: Proper confessions should never happen over the phone. Viktor knows that. So how did he get here?

Pairing: Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 3.6K

Warning: Mature (mentions of explicit content, explicit in last chapter)

Notes: This was originally supposed to be a real quick one-shot. And yet, here I stand, offering you a three-chapter fic that is probably going to be a little under 10K total. Like a stray cat proudly bringing you a dead squirrel. I'm bozo the fool and I can't stop writing about Viktor.

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4/End)

In theory, you’re pretty sure being a hitman should be fun.

There should be something thrilling about following someone around, tracking their every move in the shadows, finding the perfect opening to shoot them right between the eyes. The hunter and the prey. Riveting stuff.

Except you're not a hitman. And you're not tracking down someone to shoot them.

You're a dumb, stupid idiot. And you're just trying to talk to your dumb, stupid best friend who is doing everything in his power to not talk to you.

And he's quite good at it too; it's like he's vanished from the space-time continuum itself. No one has seen him, no one has talked to him, no one has even heard of where he might be hiding. It's almost annoying how good Viktor is at everything he does.

You hadn't managed to sleep the rest of the night of what you now refer to as ‘The Call’. You watched the minutes pass one by one on your alarm clock, eyes wide open, mind bustling with too many questions to go to bed.

At six am sharp, you deemed you had waited long enough to stomp your way to Jayce's and Viktor's apartment. You weren't even sure of what you were going to say; you just had to talk to him. You couldn't let that conversation end the way it did.

You knocked firmly five times before Jayce cracked the door open with an audible groan, hair tussled, eyes barely open. It seemed he, too, hadn't spent a very restful night.

It took a few seconds for him to even register who was standing at the door; when he did, he visibly straightened his back in an attempt to look awake and composed.

Unfortunately for him, it did not work very well.

“H-hey,” he stammered, leaning against the doorway in false non-chalence. His voice was still heavy with sleep, and he audibly cleared his throat. “It's a little early, isn't it? The ol’ operating system usually only boots up when the sun is out,” he added jokingly, pointing a finger toward his forehead.

A valiant attempt at breaking the obvious tension, but you refused to budge. You glared at him, decidedly looking into his eyes.

“I need to talk to Viktor.”

Jayce made a strangled sound, which he tried to hide with a theatrical coughing fit.

“You… just missed him?” he managed to choke out with uncertainty. He was visibly trying to convince himself just as much as you. “He left to go prepare the lab. You know him, always doing extra research.”

He flashed you a smile, a practiced grin with perfect teeth that might have seemed genuine in other circumstances. But his bottom lip was quivering, and you could see Viktor's daily use cane leaning against the coat rack right behind him. Jayce was not exactly a master manipulator.

“Jayce, the university doesn't even open until seven thirty.”

He deflated at that, his large shoulders comically lowering. You could see he was thinking desperately for anything to say, but coming up empty-handed. Chances were he hadn't had his coffee yet, which knowing him, considerably lowered his ability to formulate coherent thoughts.

You were starting to feel bad; the poor guy was stuck being the literal last defence to his roommate, and he was genuinely giving it his best. Jayce might not have a career in acting, but he was a good friend.

That was more than you could say about yourself.

“Ok. I get it,” you sighed. “He needs space. I can respect that. Just… tell him to call me later, alright? Even just a text would be fine.”

Jayce seemed profoundly relieved you had agreed to back down, something you almost always refused to do under any circumstance. Yes, technically, you could stay put in front of that door and progressively chip away at Jayce's still barely conscious mind until Viktor decided to show himself.

But you felt guilty. Guilty for not realizing how he felt, guilty for treating him like your personal diary over the phone, guilty for not saying how you felt sooner. The conversation should be on Viktor's terms rather than your own.

“Yeah, I'll tell him,” Jayce gave you a small smile, comforting and honest. The next words came out less encouraging than he likely intended: “I'll try.”

But now, it's been a week since ‘The Call’, and Viktor has still shown no sign of wanting to talk. Your phone is frustratingly devoid of unread texts or missed calls no matter how often you check it. Your world feels like it's been spiralling out of control a little more every day, the uncertainty of everything left unsaid weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It's torture, and you can't help but feel like you kind of deserve it.

You should have known better than to call Viktor when you were drunk, and yet, you still did. Because there's nothing more natural to you than talking to him. It's become second nature, as natural as breathing or blinking.

Viktor is always so smart, and so composed, and so understanding, and so helpful- and he's probably the only person who likes hearing you go on rants for hours on end. How could you ever want to talk to anybody else after a breakup?

But when you're drunk, you lose the already feeble control you have over your verbal on-and-off switch. Everything spews out of you without a filter, as if you're vomiting all the thoughts that go through your mind one after the other. It's cathartic, for sure, but then you end up saying things that should never be said to the best friend you've secretly been in love with for years now.

Things like how your ex never took time to finger you properly, or how he had this stupid obsession with men not going down on women because he was an ungrateful asshole.

And then, those two little words.

“I would.”

There was no hesitation in his tone, no uncertainty. It was like he had the sentence on the tip of his tongue for the last two hours you had been whining to him. Like he had been waiting to say it for too long to contain it anymore.

The irony was that you had spent the last four years trying everything in your power to not let those stupid little words out too.

—

You met Viktor at your first university's faculty Christmas party.

You hated work parties.

You had only gotten the position of academic advisor a few months prior, and in that time you hadn't managed to form a single bond with any other employee in your entire department. It was always the same; you talked too much. You were too intense. You were tiresome.

You were you. And that was something a lot of people didn't like.

Needless to say, you didn't want to go to that stupid party. Everyone would split up into groups of friends and previous acquaintances, and any attempt at joining the conversation would result in discreet sighs and rolling eyes. Yet you still went, partly out of obligation, but also in the hopes something that night might be different for you.

But it hadn't been, and you were alone.

So you did what any well-adjusted adult did when they were faced with the indisputable fact they were the party outcast; you drank.

After one glass of cheap white wine, you felt more relaxed, less stiff. Just a nice amount of mellowed out.

After two glasses, you started to forget the self-preserving instinct of not approaching others. ‘Maybe you could try talking to someone, after all. It could be worth a shot.’

After three glasses, you forgot why you were so apprehensive in the first place. You were great! You rocked. You had so many things to say there was absolutely no way someone wouldn't love to hear all about it.

…but maybe you could get a fourth glass, first.

You headed back towards the drinks table, a little less steady and a whole more lot confident. So confident, you didn't realize you bumped right into someone's chest until a hand grabbed your arm to keep you upright.

“Ah, are you alright?” came a heavily accented voice above you. ‘Eastern European,’ you thought absentmindedly. ‘Ukranian, maybe Czech. I wonder if he knows they created the sugar cube…’

You took an unsteady step back, peaking up at the man blocking your way to the wine bottles.

‘Wow, he's handsome’, was your first, immediate thought.

“Wow, you're handsome,” were your first, immediate words.

The man spluttered in surprise. In all fairness, he probably hadn't been expecting for a stranger at a faculty party to be so direct. If you were still at glass number two, you might have realized it wasn't a very appropriate thing to say in this specific context.

But you were at glass number three and unabashedly staring at the man's face, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the curve of his nose.

That was the moment you realized he wasn't a stranger.

You knew him. Not his name, or who he was, but you felt absolutely certain you had seen him before. You scanned your jumbled brain for the memory of his face. So beautifully sculpted, like he was made of stone. You knew him, you had it on the tip of your tongue-

“Miss?” the man asked, seemingly unsure whether to be perplexed or worried at your silent glaring. “Would you like me to help you sit-”

“Tuna sandwich!” you yelled with a huge grin. A few other partygoers turned towards you in confusion, but you were much too overjoyed at the epiphany you were experiencing to realize.

The man blinked slowly. Then once again, like he was trying to process whether or not he had understood correctly. His head cocked slightly to the side in bewilderment.

“… I'm sorry, what did you say ?”

You poked his chest with an insistent finger, beaming: “You're tuna sandwich! The tuna sandwich guy!”

The man looked to the side warily, mouth opening and closing, visibly searching for some kind of help. When he found none, his golden eyes fell back to you, catching the glow of the ceiling lights. The spark of an aurora through the night sky.

“I'm… afraid I truly have no idea what you're talking about,” he explained gently, the warmth of his hand leaving your arm. You deflated a little at that, the notion of embarrassment creeping back in you.

But he hadn't left. He was still here.

He was listening to you.

“My office is next to the cafeteria,” you started, straightening your dress and trying to appear more professional. “I see you, every day, at eleven forty-five, before morning classes end. I always thought that was smart, because you get to skip the lunch rush and there's still a lot of choices for meals.”

The man seemed bemused by the comment, but didn't show signs of wanting to take off. That made you regain some of your drunken confidence.

“But you always take a tuna sandwich,” you continued. ”That's it. Every day. You never buy anything else. It's always the tuna sandwich at eleven forty-five.”

He let out a confused chuckle, the ghost of a teasing smile on his lips.

“I didn't realize I had an audience.”

His presence had been so hypnotic you barely even realized what you had been saying.

‘Oh God, that sounded creepy, didn't it?’

“Don't flatter yourself,” you quickly added, embarrassed, looking away to stare at a particularly interesting stain on the floor. “I look at what everyone's doing. It's my job to.”

He hummed mirthfully, his golden gaze fully amused now:

“And what job would that be? Voyeur?”

You almost choked on your own spit.

“Guidance councillor, smart guy,” you countered, feeling your cheeks heat up. How was a stranger rattling you this much? You were usually the one whose words left others confused. “I look at people, and I figure out what they want in life. I help them find careers. I’ll have you know that's an extremely important task, mister-”

You squinted at the sticky nametag on his chest, trying to decipher the very slanted handwriting. You vaguely remembered the blue stickers were reserved for teachers.

“…Professor…?” you struggled weakly, hoping he would fill in the illegible part.

He thankfully seemed to find your attempt more endearing than insulting.

“Just call me Viktor,” he answered with a sincere smile. His lips were slightly crooked, the left dimple just barely more present on his left side than his right. There was a tiny little beauty spot next to his cupid bow; the thought that it would be nice to lick it just to confirm it wasn't a speck of the chocolate cake flashed in your mind.

‘Focus, focus!’

“Tell me, Viktor,” you cleared your throat. You had to get it together. This was the longest conversation you had been able to maintain with a fellow faculty member without them looking like they wanted to run away. “Why tuna? There's so many other sandwiches to choose from. You could take the egg salad, or the turkey sub, or the spicy chicken…”

You were definitely being too insistent on the tuna thing. If he didn't think you were weird before, he would now.

And yet Viktor still didn't leave. He considered your question seriously, taking a few thoughtful seconds to answer:

“It's the only one with multigrain bread. Very low fat for a good source of omega-3 and protein. And I don't dislike it, so it makes the most sense as a daily meal,” he mused, almost like it was the first time he had ever thought about it, too.

Huh.

“That's a sad way of looking at things,” you commented before thinking.

Before you could mentally swear at your debilitating lack of restraint, Viktor countered the statement with seemingly genuine curiosity:

“How so?”

You had a chance to say something cute and short, and leave the topic at that. It would be a major win for you; your first enjoyable talk with a coworker. Maybe you would even exchange email addresses by the end of the night.

Or…

You could be yourself. Let the floodgate of constant thoughts and observations pour out for a minute. Show this random handsome man who you were, really.

Had you not been drunk and sound of mind, you would have gone for the former. But as it happened, you were quite drunk, and you chose the latter. You took a deep breath before speaking:

“Means you only value food as something that's needed, like taste and flavour isn’t important. You deny yourself basic pleasures out of fear you'll get used to them and grow complacent. You're probably the type of guy who slaves away in his office for hours, not even realizing he's hungry, because it's lost all relevance to him.”

The silence that followed felt eerie. The expression on Viktor's face was blank, mouth barely agape, brows slightly furrowed. You had fucked it up, again.

“Sorry,” you muttered, feeling incredibly foolish. “That was overstepping.”

“No, actually,“ Viktor responded almost eagerly, the sparkle in his eyes bright, “Keep going. What else can you tell?”

There was palpable interest in his tone, in the way his body leaned slightly closer to yours. He wanted to know. He wanted to listen to you.

“The tuna sandwich is twenty-five cents cheaper than all the other ones,” you continued slowly, afraid of breaking the spell that was keeping him attentive to your words. “Usually a sign of a lower class upbringing, shows that you're used to thinking with a controlled budget, even if you don't need to anymore. You likely value hard work and commitment.”

You paused once more to gauge his reaction, but he didn't say anything, clearly waiting for you to continue. So, you did.

“It's always eleven forty-five sharp. You're precise, mechanical. Probably in the department of medicine, or some form of applied science. Am I right?”

“Biomechanical engineering,” he specified with a baffled smile. “Incredible. All that from a sandwich?”

You shrugged, feeling giddy under the weight of the compliment. It was so utterly rare that anyone would actually enjoy your rambling.

“I notice things about people, and I tell them. Couldn’t quite cut it as a detective or a psychologist, so it makes me an ok guidance counsellor,” you smiled, adding an audible wince. “But the person you really gotta avoid at parties.”

He laughed at that, a pretty, earnest sound, slightly low and nasal. The kind of laugh that would make the heart of a weaker person skip a beat.

You blamed the fact that yours did in fact skip a beat entirely on the alcohol.

“I-I'm sure what you do is a lot more impressive, though,” you quickly stammered out. Why were you stuttering?

He shrugged, bony shoulders visible through his button-up shirt. A few beauty marks decorated his neck where the collar didn't reach; you wondered how many more the fabric was hiding.

“Eh, I wouldn't bet on that. Gait analysis, prosthetic limb design. Much less creative than one might think,” he commented with a certain indifferent boredom; yet there was a certain light in his eyes that spoke otherwise. Maybe he was also the type of person people didn’t listen to much. “But it does feel rewarding to do something for others who might not have my luck.”

He pointed down with his chin, and for the first time since you began talking to him, you realized he was holding a cane.

You, whose only redeeming quality was having good observational skills, hadn't noticed the man you had been talking to for the last ten minutes was holding a cane. A refined-looking one at that, with a deep burgundy tainted wood for the shaft, and a sleek handle the colour of tarnished gold. ‘Maybe if you stopped looking at his face for a goddamn second you would have noticed’ you scolded yourself.

“Ah,” you blurted out pathetically. “That's… that's really cool.” You were looking at his fingers. You were looking at his long, slim fingers holding his cane, calloused yet delicate, and you were imagining them in places they should definitely not be in.

You had absolutely no idea what you had just said to him.

Yet Viktor only seemed more amused, his smirk growing ever so slightly.

“Yes, I also like to think of it as ‘cool’, from time to time.”

A drink. What you needed was another drink. Then perhaps you would reach a level of enlightenment where you would remember how to not look like a complete fool in front of attractive professors, who probably did quantum physics as a hobby.

As if he had read your mind, Viktor shifted in the direction of the drinks table, giving you a knowing smile. Were you so easy to read, or was he simply so good at reading you?

“I’d offer to bring you a glass of wine, but I believe that may have been your original intention before reading my palm,” he joked.

‘It's nothing like fortune telling, it's just logical analysis !’ part of you wanted to retort.

‘Give me your palm and I'll show you what my real fucking intentions are,’ purred the other one.

If you didn't get out of here now, you would say something that would definitely end your career before it had even taken off.

“I think I'll probably head home for the night. I've already had a little too much to drink,” you smiled hesitantly. Understatement of the century.

You could have sworn you saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes. Then again, you had probably imagined it. If anything, he was likely relieved he had finally managed to escape the babbling lunatic. Someone like him, so brilliant and accomplished, had no reason to willingly listen to the ramblings of a glorified high school school councillor.

But…

“But… maybe you could give me your number?” you asked hesitantly, taking one final, vulnerable leap of faith. “Just for work, of course!”, you added hastily.

Viktor did not seem angry or disgusted at the proposal; in fact, his smile widened, revealing a slightly uneven row of teeth. Cute. Everything about him was attractive.

“I would like that,” Viktor said softly, amber eyes warm. “I did enjoy hearing you talk.”

Your heart made a heavy, dull thud. With a small wave, he was gone, disappearing somewhere into the crowd like he had been nothing more than a hallucination conjured up by the cheap wine.

Your first work friend.

A potential real friend. Someone who genuinely didn't seem to hate the sound of your voice.

It was much too precious to lose over some passing, drunken attraction. You absolutely had to crush these emotions now to prevent them from becoming anything serious. After all, it wasn't like you had a shadow of chance with someone like him.

Perhaps for the first time in your life, you decided to stay silent about something, no matter what would happen in the future.

He couldn't know.

You would never let him know.

[vodika-vibes]

Could you write up a soft moment between Alpha and the reader? They’re both busy and have no time but they want to take a moment to bask and share some quiet with each other before they have to go back to what they were doing before?

Alright, I decided to roll these three asks into one. So this is a sequel to the Lawsuit oneshot with Alpha-17.

A Moment For Us

Summary: After returning from Coruscant after winning rights for the clones as well as backpay, you thought you'd be less busy. But You've never been busier.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 792

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

The war ends and while, in theory, things should have been easier, and less busy, for you. The truth is that things only started getting more and more hectic.

Honestly, you kind of hoped that your work would stop once you managed to convince the Senate to give the clones rights, and back pay, and everything that they’re owed. You feel kind of silly about it now.

Of course you’ll only be busier now.

So busy, in fact, that you and Alpha haven’t been able to spend more than a few moments together since your return to Kamino. Sure, you still sleep next to each other, but he’s been getting up before you and leaving before you get out of bed.

He’s just as busy as you are, you know.

You push your hair out of your face and pull your datapad closer, mumbling under your breath as you read to yourself, effortlessly sidestepping cadets and trainers alike. 

“How are things going?” Master Ti asks as she falls into step next to you, making her strides smaller so as to not overtake you, or make you run to keep up with her.

“Slowly, and quickly at the same time.” You reply, “The backpay is coming from the Palpatine estate, but the more-” You have to throw yourself against the wall to avoid getting run over by an ARC Captain, “-the more the Jedi Investigators dig, the more we’re learning about what Palpatine was up to. And the more we learn, the more compensation the Clones are entitled to.”

“Do you need me to reach out to the Jedi Solicitor-?” Master Ti asks.

“That’s kind of you to offer, but I’m already in contact with them and their army of little paralegal padawans.” You reply, “Have you been able to untangle the tubies from-”

She huffs out a heavy breath, “Not yet.” Something steely enters her gaze, “The Kaminoans won’t kill anymore babies, I swear it. Do try to take a break, my friend. You won’t do anyone good if you work yourself to a burn out.”

“The same goes for you, Shaak.” You remind her.

The older woman smiles, “No need to worry about me. Plo will be joining me in a couple of days.” Her gaze flickers to the side, and her smile grows, “I have to go, good luck.”

You tilt your head at her curious words, but soon put them out of your mind as you turn towards your office, only to yelp when you’re unceremoniously, tugged into an empty classroom.

The door slides shut behind you and your datapad is tugged from your hands and set on the table next to you. And then large hands cup your face, and you blink up at Alpha. 

He smiles at you, something warm and soft in his gaze, as he leans in and bumps his forehead against yours. “Cyar’ika.” He murmurs.

“Alpha,” His name slips from you in a sigh, and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” His eyes close and for a moment the pair of you just exist in each other's presence. “Missed you. Been too long since I’ve been able to just…be with you.”

“We’re busy people,” It’s an explanation, not an excuse, and he knows it based on the way his lips curl, “I missed you too.” You whisper, “Don’t like waking up alone.”

“It’s only until we get all of the kids de-chipped,” Alpha explains, “Unless you’ve found some other, horrifying, thing that we need to fix inside our bodies.”

“Not that I know of.” You murmur, “And…the chip in your head?” You ask, almost hesitantly.

Alpha releases a humorless laugh, “I’m an Alpha, cyare. I didn’t get a chip. Just sped up aging.”

“Oh…I didn’t know.”

“Yeah.” He tilts your head back and brushes his lips against yours, “I’ve started the gene therapy to stop that, it sucks.”

“That’s good?” You ask, standing on your toes to try and catch his lips with yours.

Alpha chuckles and kisses you properly. Once, twice, three times, and then he releases you and presses your datapad back into your hands. “We’re having dinner together tonight.” He says, there’s something heavy in his gaze, and you know it’s a promise, “Be back in the room by 6.”

You smile at him brightly, “It’s a date.”

Alpha brushes your cheek with his thumb, and then takes a step back, “Alright, cyare. Back to the grindstone.”

You take a deep breath, and nod. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes.” Alpha’s gaze is heavy with promise, “You will.” And as you step back into the hallway, you know that Alpha will kill anyone who tries to prevent either of you from spending time together tonight.

[kahlanmars]

PAPER RINGS part. 7

The babies are baaaaack!

MASTERLIST

7. This is why we can't have nice things

You wake up in the morning with a bad headache and terrible nausea. You have to keep your eyes closed because the light is too heavy and the room won’t stop spinning. From the bed you can see you in the mirror of the makeup table and the vision you have is something else. Your hair is messy, your eyes look puffy and your skin is green, your lips are clearly dehydrated and your eyeshadows and lipstick are all over your face. Not your greatest look, but very capitol. The room is too bright and the light does not welcome you now. 

«If you have to puke, puke on the right.»

On your left, with a rough voice there is Finnick Odair, as waisted as you if not more, that is looking at you with a suspicious look, ready to fly away if you really have to vomit. His arm is under your waist, and he tightens the grip when he realizes you are waking up.

Because last night was terrible and he doesn’t want you to cry again.

Haymitch, Perla, Lora, Effie. You messed up badly with every person you love. With your eyes closed you see the look on their faces again.

You could have survived without Haymitch thanks to Effie. You can’t survive without Haymitch and Effie.

Stupid girl, you survived the Hunger Games, you can do this again, your internal (mean) voice tells you, but you survived thanks to them, because of them. When you are alone you are at your lowest point.

«I have lost everyone.» You state, frightened. You miss human touch, you crave human touch.

«You still have me.» Finnick argues and you thank heaven for him. Quite the best friend he is, and you can go in the same category just because you saved his life once. He did it twice and more. He never judged you. He knows your deepest secrets and he never dared to judge anything.

«Everybody hates me.» You whisper, and you hide your face on his chest. You try not to sob, and you can’t because you don’t have water in your body, but your eyes are shinier now. 

«Don’t be stupid, nobody hates you.» He strikes your hair. But he is lying, you are sure of it, you clearly remember Perla’s tone and Lora’s eyes. 

«You don’t hate me.» You try to get up, but your body doesn’t want to cooperate. «Finnick, I’m not feeling too well.» You are aware you act like a child, but you can’t get up to take your  medicine. 

He touches your forehead and raises his eyebrows. «You are feverish.»

«Must be the alcohol, I don’t drink often. With Haymitch at home I don’t risk it. I… didn’t risk it.»

«You should sleep it away.» Going back to bed is tempting, but Effie can’t stand you and you can’t abuse her hospitality now. You were so happy to share a home with her. You just wished you did more of the things you always saw in the movies. Effie was a wreck and you were even worse, it has not been the best timing.

«I can’t sleep, Fin. I have to go to a hotel.»

«A hotel?» 

«Yeah, Effie doesn’t want me home anymore. She doesn’t trust me anymore and you don’t want someone you don’t trust in your home.»

«I’ll talk to her.»

«No need.» Effie comes into the room and she hands you two a mug. She has makeup on again and her outfit is impeccable. And yet, you saw her dancing on the floor until morning. «I spent fifteen years  taking care of an addict and I have no intention to repeat history, okay?»

You and Finnick look at her like guilty puppies, well known she is totally right. She usually is. «Okay.»

Miss Trinket sighs and she looks at you, still a little annoyed.

«Now. Daisy, can you tell me what you do during the day?»

«Excuse me?» You don’t understand.

«Last night it wasn’t you. I have a theory, I want to understand, so answer me.»

«Well, I get up, I make breakfast and lunch-»

«For me?» She seems sad and ashamed by it and this is not the result you wanted. 

«For you, and sometimes for Portia. I go to work until six and a half p.m., I come home, I make dinner, I help you clean a little, we eat together and then I do the dishes and I work on the wedding dress until I fall asleep.»

«Where do you eat for lunch?»

«I eat an apple.» You start by saying it’s just a day, and then you go on and you suddenly tell yourself you don’t have time and you are not in the mood anyway, and it becomes a habit. 

«Just an apple? Why? Daisy, you need to eat! And to sleep! You make lunch for Effie and Portia, why not for you?»

«Because this is Effie’s food and she already hosts me.» You explain. But it’s not just that, it’s something else and you can’t quite put the finger on it, you can’t say it. In District Twelve there is not such thing as using food to control something. Food is a necessity.

«My God, darling girl, I never said you couldn’t eat!»

«But you are miserable all the time and I didn’t want to be a burden!»

«You are not a burden. And what about your money?»

«Partly is for Holly, I want to repay her, partly is for the wedding because Haymitch doesn’t want a big one so I want to contribute, and partly is for you. I was going to start paying rent.»

«So you sleep for hours at night, you eat an apple and a dinner, and between the chores at home, the job and the wedding dress you work all day. What did you buy for yourself in your time at the Capitol?»

«Uhm, nothing?»

 «What?»

«I have to save money! And I can do it.»

«You are burnt out.» She looks at you with her blue eyes so full of worrying. It must be a serious thing, but you have no idea what she is saying.

«What does it mean?» You ask her, 

«You don’t know it? Don’t you go to Doctor Aurelius?»

You blush. You were supposed to keep going, but the doctor is in Thirteen and it’s fine when you are in Twelve, but now you are in the Capitol and you canceled a lot of meetings.

«I’m supposed to go, but I’m really busy here.»

«Daisy… oh, darling girl.» She shakes her head and she goes near you. «Finnick, dear, can we have a moment alone, please?»

«I’ll go on the couch.» He answers, still sleepy from the night before.

You watch Effie like you are doing an exam. 

«I’m sorry. But it was for the best, I mean you are always tired and…» You begin, but she stops you.

«I get that you did it out of good intentions. But I need to believe in you.»

«You can!» You try not to cry again. «You are my best friend and I’m really sorry.»

«I still think you didn’t think it through, and that is because you are severely sleep deprived, but Daisy, what you did is wrong.»

«Totally wrong.» You confirm it.

«And you have your faults, my dear.» She rolls her eyes, totally unladylike, but she got soft on that part after the revolution. «Don’t look at me like a puppy, I forgive you.»

Maybe she didn’t expect the rush of you hugging her, but she strikes your hair anyway. You can’t lose Effie, you can manage to lose everybody else but not Effie. You clench your hands in her clothes.

«Unfortunately dear, that is not why I was here. This is a newspaper…»

On the cover there is you and Finnick, hugging in a club. You remember that part of the night, you were devastated because of the discussion with Perla and Lora and he was just comforting you.

There is a line in bold that says “ONCE A TRAITOR ALWAYS A TRAITOR?”.

You read the short paragraph in a hurry.

The former tribute Daisy Pinecone is caught in a passionate kiss with the leader of the rebellion Finnick Odair, who Capitol remembers as one of the most beloved victors of the Hunger Games of all times. Finnick Odair is married to Annie Cresta-Odair, and rumors tell us Daisy Pinecone was in a relationship with her mentor, Haymitch Abernathy. Trouble in paradise, open couple or shameless cheating? 

«Once a traitor? This is… This is…» You can’t find the right words. This is outrageous, you never betrayed anyone. And you are not a celebrity! Paparazzi were after YOU? You? You are nobody, only a tribute. Maybe they were after your friend, not you. Finnick was and still very much is a celebrity.

«Capitol propaganda.» Finnicks ends the line for you, appearing by the door. He looks better, he cleaned his face, but he is furious and rightfully so.

«Isn’t that supposed to be ancient history?» Effie asks, and she almost has tears in her eyes.

«We are not kissing!» You snap. «I was crying and we were hugging, we are not kissing!» 

If Haymitch thinks you two are kissing he can do anything. Or nothing, you don’t know if he still cares, you don’t know if you two are still together, but you don’t want him to think you are cheating. You are not a cheater. And what if Marjorie finds the magazine? She would give it to him as proof. They could kiss again. 

And Annie, oh poor Annie, who helped you so much. You feel like shit as the very thought, not only because of the kiss - she knows better than to believe that, but because she still got humiliated one way or another. 

«I’ll go check on Annie on the phone.» You see him leave and you can just murmur a phrase, a bit ashamed. It was your fault, you were crying.

«Please, tell her that I’m sorry.»

«You should sleep a little more. I’ll call Portia.» Effie kisses your head. You feel a lot comforted by her words, and sleeping a little more seems perfect. 

You use your free time from Portia to make amends with Perla and Lora, starting with Perla because you have to admit Lora’s words still hurt. 

You stop along the line to get some pastries and you knock at her and Cinna’s door. It’s Cinna who actually opens the door, in a black pair of jeans and a white shirt, and you have to admit you are curious about their house. 

You could have guessed, it’s very sober and moderate. The walls are white, all the furniture is in brown wood and there is no sign of an ornament, just some pictures of Cinna’s successes, and if you have to guest you think it’s Perla who hung them. Cinna seems like a humble man. 

It’s smaller than what you pictured, but then you remember Cinna lost almost everything in the war and Perla is a district girl, she is not wealthy. 

«This is not a good day, Daisy.» He warns you. What does he mean it’s not a good day? Does Perla have bad days? «Would you give her this? I was on my way to bring it to her.»

He hands you a cup of tea, and you nod.

The room is dark, and it scarcely reminds you about the times you caught Haymitch after a booze. 

«Ehi.» You whisper, and you see her. She is in the bed, and while she remains your brilliant friend, you can see she is tired and maybe sick. «Are you not feeling well?»

She takes the tea out of your hands, but then she puts it on the bedside table.  

«It’s nothing, it’s just a headache.» She briefly smiles at you and she shrugs. Her eyes are not smiling, though.

«I’m sorry about yesterday.» You taunt and you sit on the bed. «About jealousy and… I’m sorry. You were right.»

«It’s ok.» She murmurs. She looks like she is not even hearing you.

«You are worrying me, Perla.»

She stops smiling, her eyes are not shining and watering. You have never seen Perla like this. «I can't do this sometimes, Daisy.»

The confession shocks you. You are used to Strong Perla, she is the strongest of the trio, the one you know can handle herself. And that makes you selfish, you realize. Because you worry about Effie, you worry about Lora, but you never worry about Perla, because you think she is okay. She is your age, not younger like Lora, and she is from the District, not naivé and privileged like a Capitol girl, and she has a solid head on her neck, but that doesn’t mean she is not affected by the same things that shook you.

«What? But you have this special life, a job, a boyfriend and…» Your words fade.

«And you have the same life. Still, you tell me everything's alright?»

It's not and you both know it. The nightmares are so present in your life Doctor Aurelius suggested taking sleeping pills, but you are afraid you are going to be addicted to them. You saw how an addiction works, it's not pleasant and you do not wish to live the experience.

«Sometimes I can't get out of bed. I feel too tired and dizzy to even brush my teeth, and I know it's disgusting, I'm sorry.» She keeps going. «Sometimes I open my eyes and I’m still in that arena, in the caves, and I know I will have to kill or be killed. Sometimes I’m on the street and I suddenly remember the war. It’s the same street, Daisy. And I was there, fighting for my life. And I stand still, I can’t move even for hours, Cinna has to calm me down so much lately... You must think I’m crazy, it’s crazy…»

«It’s not. It’s usual for us.» You remember Doctor Aurelius’ voice. This is not your fault, this is Snow fault, and the Capitol, and later District Thirteen and Coin. Not yours. You are a victim, you have been a victim and there is no shame in this.

Except you feel guilty sometimes, and you bet Perla does too. Because you are here, you are alive and a lot of people are not, Capitol citizens, your classmates in Twelve, the kids. 

«Us?» She asks, and she is abruptly younger than her age, she is just eyes, her big, big blue eyes.

«Tributes.» You explain, and you hop in the bed close to her. 

«You are rocking this Capitol world…» She looks down.

«I wasn’t on the mission. I got caught by Thirteen before the action because I killed Caius, remember?» You fix her hair over her ear. «But I can’t go in the ocean, or open water for what it matters. And I’m not a big fan of a dark place like a cave. We all have our fragilities…»

«I’m not weak.» Her voice is harder now, rough. You know her so much and it must be a torture for her to perceive herself as fragile. You remember how much time she spent trying to convince herself she wasn’t in love, just because she didn’t want to depend on another person, as selfless and wonderful Cinna was.

«You are not! You are a member of the revolution, Perla, you volunteered for the mission! No one can think you are weak. But we are…» You can’t find the right word, because you don’t want to hurt her more.

«Damaged.» She finishes off for you.

«But we can be damaged together. Would you want it?» You propose. She just nods and she squeezes your hand, and you take it as a win.

After the long talk with Perla, you just want to go to bed ready to clear things out with Lora tomorrow. You can sleep more, now that you don’t need to work on your wedding dress, and you seriously need it because you are exhausted. 

But your plans are not these ones for tonight, because lining against the door there is Haymitch.

You didn’t remember every detail in your dreams. He is here, his blonde hair loose on his shoulders, his magnetic blue eyes forged on your sight, with little wrinkles on the sides. He looks slightly older, like he is really tired or sick, but dear heavens he is handsome.

You can't totally explain why you are so in love with him. He is just that charismatic and beautiful, and his brain is so fascinating to watch at work. And he is a good man, a very good one. 

«She didn’t want to let me in.» He explains. You missed his deep voice so much you already have chills on your spine.

He looks at you. 

You look at him.

And you both burst into laughs like you are utterly stupid. And then just like magic your laughing turns into sobbing.

«We will talk, we will make up but please, just tell me if you still love me.» You feel so stupid but you have to ask yourself this question, because what once was a stupid banter got so big in your head you don’t know what is real anymore.

«What a stupid question, of course I still love you.»

When you see him you try not to cry, but he wraps his arms around your waist and he kisses you and you swear he watches you like you hang up the moon, and you burst into tears against his chest.

«I missed you so much. I’m sorry.» You didn’t want to cry, the whole point here is being an adult and you are not behaving like one.

«I’m here now, babygirl, I’m here now. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.» He wanted to come, he wanted to come sooner. He wasn’t with Marjorie. 

«I’m sorry I didn’t call.» You say it at the same time.

«I screwed up, Sweetheart.» It’s cold outside but you can’t do anything right now, even if you are aware the common thing would be to tell him to join you in the house. 

«I slapped you.» You remind him.

«I deserved it.» He grants. And he did, the first instinct was to chop his head off, he kissed another woman. He kissed the love of his previous life.

«I know you didn’t want to kiss her. I know it. Because you love me, right?» You want him to tell you. He doesn’t like to say it often and you respect it, it brings back memories of when everyone he loved died, you usually don’t push it. He says it in other things, like giving you the last bite of a sweet, or preparing you your favorite meals, or kissing your head while you are sleeping. Usually it’s enough, but not now.

«You are the love of my life.» He kisses you again, and you almost moan. You moan from a kiss, and it’s pathetic you are well aware of it, but the butterflies on the stomach are dancing rock and roll.

«And you are the love of mine. I swear.» You take his hand. It’s an overkill, because you are already in his arms, where you belong, but you want to feel his skin.

«Things are… I didn’t want to be damaged. I tried and I tried to be perfect for you, but I’m not.»

«I didn’t want perfection, I wanted you.» You say, and you are cheating a little because you are giving him puppy eyes, but this way he knows you mean it.

«But you deserve it. Every time you come into the room you bring the light. You are, I…» He is working himself up, so you put a hand on his chest.

«Easy.»

«I tried to suppress what I didn’t want you to see, and it’s fucking hard. I was a victor for all my life, and now I don’t even know who I am.»

That actually makes sense. If you live all your life in a certain way, it’s hard to change even for the better. But you wish he just told you.

«Haymitch, I was your maid, I was your tribute, I was your friend before. I know you, and I knew what I was dealing with when I decided to begin this relationship. But I love you. I love you when you are brooding and when you don’t like people and… we all have issues, we all made mistakes. To be fair I thought you had a strange behavior these days. Loving you was not a choice, but if I could have a choice I would love you again and again for the rest of my life.»

This speech is marvelous, you admit to yourself, and you earn another kiss. Now that you can move, you come home and you go straight to your room, but only to talk, at least for now. Your first instinct is to toss him on the bed and have your way with him, you are still Daisy Pinecone and he is still fucking attractive, but you are about to be twenty six. You have to be an adult.

«Okay, cards on the table. Tell me what you tried to force.» You smile at him, and you hope the smile is welcoming.

«Living with another person it’s fucking hard. And you are not that difficult to live with, but sometimes I need… I need to be alone. Not time, space. I need some place for myself.»

«That can be arranged, I would use some space just for myself too. We can have a room just for us and a room together.»

«Sometimes I need silence. I love your voice, but I’m used to my silence. I’m not one of the people who talks when they are alone in a room, I enjoy the lack of words.»

You laugh. «I’ll be quiet.»

«Well, that’s it. I tried to force my attitude…»

«I love your brooding attitude, it’s sexy.» You kiss his protests away, «No other complaints?»

«Nope. Your turn, Sweetheart.»

You expect to be hurt, but these are reasonable demands. He needs to be alone, it’s okay. You are aware you are a cuddler, but you can look for cuddles elsewhere. Effie is always welcoming you for hugs. 

«I don’t want a small wedding. It won’t be a big wedding I assure you, but… a medium one. With all our friends and food and a big cake from Peeta. Katniss can sing. I’m doing the outfits. No cameras allowed, I promise you. But I don’t want just a toasting. I promise it will be very district, not Capitol. Is it okay?»

«Yes. Yes, of course.» He kisses your hand.

«And I want you to want it. I don’t want you to say yes because of me, if you changed your mind…» Maybe he loves you but he doesn’t want to get married. You got it granted last time, it’s not something you wanted so badly.

«I want to be your husband. I don’t care much for the ceremony, but I’ll spend the rest of my life wanting you. And I want to call you my wife.»

You blush and smile when he puts two fingers under your chin to lift it up and he gives you a sweet, sweet kiss. «You are stuck with me.»

«I thought I lost you.» You confess.

«We don’t deal well with the lack of sleep.» 

«Definitely not. Perla wanted to kill you.»

«I bet.» He snorts.

«I love you.» You whisper against his lips. «I was totally lost without you.»

The kiss grows messier and you suddenly remember it’s two whole weeks you don’t kiss him.

«I missed you so much, Sweetheart. I’m proud to be yours.»

«So proud you can dance at the wedding?» You try.

«Nope. So proud I can watch you dance and I can picture you naked the whole time.» 

You blush again - is this okay to be so affected by the man you sleep with for about a year? - and kiss him again giggling. «Rude.»

«Oh come on, don’t act like it doesn’t turn you on.»

You shove him, but then you push him on the mattress and you climb on his lap. «My love?»

«Yes?» He asks you with a smirk on his smug face.

«Show me how much you love me.»

[nights-flying-fox]

It's Not Always the Rabbit Who Takes the Wrong Turn

Chapter 2: Two Leos, No Leo

Leo wakes up somewhere very familiar, and yet not. Meanwhile Donnie has a theory.

Word Count: 3477 ☆ Fandom: rottmnt ☆ Warnings: brief mention of wounds, nothing else ☆ AO3 Link: Here!! ☆ Previous Chapter: AO3 / Tumblr

 Leo wasn’t sure what was going, or why he was sleeping in such an uncomfortable place (his bed wasn’t like this). A buzzing sound of loud chatter filled the place too, which was the worst. He hardly could make up words.

 “It wasn’t me-”

 “-no –machine—”

 “I—clone—eo—”

 He knew those voices.

 “Then how—o Le—”

 Family, it was his brothers.

 It was them.

 His mind was slowly catching up with reality. As sounds became more and more clear, Leo’s memories of what had happened returned to him as well.

 “Please Casey—”

 “They all die!”

 “It isn’t about me.”

 Leo opened his eyes wide open, shooting up with the sudden worry. His family, he had to be sure they were okay. He had to see them.

 “L-leo! Slow down, you’ll hurt yourself!” He heard Raph before seeing him. There he was: big, strong, healthy. All good, just a few healing wounds. He looked all okay.

 “R-raph?” Leo asked, voice a bit weak.

 Raph examined him while he placed Leo back on the bed carefully. “Is it really... really you? Leo?”

 Leo had priorities though. “Are you okay?”

 “Wha- oh- yes I am good, but I need you to stop moving.” Raph said softly.

 “I—” Leo tried to move to look at him better, but the sudden pain made him gasp. He cursed under his breath, wincing.

 “The painkillers should kick in soon.” He sighed, clearly not happy seeing Leo like that.

 Geez, Krang must’ve hit him badly back on Technodrome. And when he was returning home. Eugh. At least his family knew the basics of healthcare, he was grateful for that. Talking about wounds and family... “How’s everyone? Dad, Donnie, Mikey, April? Casey Jr.?”

 “Everyone’s okay, see?” Raph smiled, albeit his worry was still readable on his face. He gestured to the space around them, and Leo followed his direction. To be honest he was surprised he hadn’t seen Donnie and Mikey before. They were behind Raph, looking at him. Leo couldn’t see any injuries, much to his relief.

 Except... those scars (or they were burns? They looked like lighting scars though...) on Mikey weren’t here before. He turned to Raph to ask, but then he noticed the healing wounds he had seen before were scars, fully healed.

 ...Had he slept that long?

 “Are you really Leo?” Mikey asked, distracting him. Beside Mikey, Donnie looked at him in a way that made Leo’s worries worse. It was that untrusting face, the suspicious one. Had something happened to Leo, like in Jupiter Jim’s New Adventures Vol. 7 where JJ’s appearance was altered? Oh, pizza supreme in the sky please no! He was the face man (and the leader, sadly), he couldn’t lose his good looks!

 Leo smiled at his brothers, not letting his thoughts spill out. “The one and only!”

 “Don’t be so sure about that, pal.” His voice said back. Leo turned towards the sound’s direction and saw his own face looking back at him.

 Leo stared at him, then turned back to look at his brothers. “Not to worry you guys, but I think I hit my head worse than I thought.” It was probably the concussion. Yeah.

 His brothers glanced at each other, nervous. Oh, they were worried. He didn’t miss how Raph glanced at the other Leo too.

 “Guys, I’ll be okay, no big deal.” Leo tried, but the pain wasn’t helping. Ugh, he really wanted to get over this and figure out what was wrong with his body right now. “It is just a few injuries—”

 “Shell cracked, wounds on right leg and also broken, rib damaged and a broken bone. A few minor wounds. The rest is nothing that won’t heal in a day or two.” His other self interrupted.

  Oh it talks too! How great. “I wasn’t talking to you, halluci-leon.” Leo huffed. “You’d expect yourself to understand that.”

 Other Leo rolled his eyes, “You’d expect the stranger doppelganger of yours connect the dots faster, but here we are.”

 “Leo! Be nice to yourself!” Mikey scolded.

 “He can handle a few jokes.”

 “You are seeing him too?” Leo turned his attention back to his brothers. Mikey nodded, so Leo asked the next logical thing: “Ooookay, what did Donnie do this time?”

 Donnie gasped, a bit dramatically in Leo’s opinion, “How dare you too! As if I’ve ever broken Papa’s rules.”

 Everyone in the medbay turned to him, various expressions of disbelief on their faces.

 “You all are terrible.” Donnie crossed his arms.

 “Love you back, Dee. Anyway,” Other Leo looked back to Leo, “I don’t think Donnie did something this time.”

 “Then what’s going on?”

 “We were hopping you’d tell us.” Other Leo said. “You’re not a Casey Junior case, are you?”

 “Uh, no.” Leo noticed the relieved breaths.

 “Are you a clone?” Donnie asked.

 “No.”

 “Are you a shapeshifting alien that fell from the sky via a meteor and is trying to trick us to eat us and then replace us with your kind?”

 “No. Mikey, what the heck?”

 “Okay, this doesn’t make any sense if you keep saying no.” Other Leo groaned.

 “It is not like I don’t want to help here.” Leo glared at him. He was as lost as they were, and it lowkey began making him feel rather anxious. “How about we try different questions?”

 “Good idea. Uh, what year is it for you?” Raph asked.

 Leo smiled. Big guy most likely had an idea. “2020.”

 “You know Casey Junior, so did the invasion happen?”

 “Kicked Krang butts, stopped it from happening.” It sounded so simple when he said it like that.

 “How long did it pass since that?”

 “Well, you see, I just got out of the Prison Dimension.”

 “YOU DID WHAT?!”

 “WHAT?!”

 “OMIGOSH.”

 Yelling and his other self looking at him in shock. This went on better than he expected.

 “How did... what...” He mumbled before taking a deep breath, “How did you get outta there?”

 “Portaled myself out...” Leo replied, a bit distracted by how everyone reacted. “Am I missing something? Like I get it, it was a dangerous decision and all that but this is not the reaction I was expecting.”

 “You are looking almost all fine, for the starters.” Other Leo said, “I wasn’t as good looking as you buddy. Congrats avoiding some punches, good for you!”

 “Not just that, but did you say you portaled yourself out?!” Raph gasped.

 “You didn’t even have the time to progress everything that happened to you!” Mikey exclaimed.

 Amongst the worried talking, Donnie interrupted. “Gentlemen, do you realize what does this mean?”

 “What?” Leo was going to handle the other information later.

 All eyes turned to Donnie. “Your portaling has malfuctioned and you ended up in the wrong timeline.” He explained.

 Leo blinked. Portaled myself to the wrong timeline?! “Are you sure about that?”

 “That’s the most likely theory I got.” Donnie confirmed. “We need to get on some details to confirm it though.”

 “Maybe Draxum or Junior can help too, right?” Mikey smiled.

 “If we ever need help, perhaps.” Donnie was still not fond of the idea of asking for help from Draxum, but this was a better answer than the ones they’d gotten in the past months.

 “At least that explains some things...” Other Leo sighed.

 Leo was glad for the answers, but unfortunately, the answers didn’t help his worries. Made them worse even. “I need to go back.” He tried to get up, but Raph stopped him.

 “You can’t until you heal properly.” He said softly.

 “Raph, I know you mean well, but I need to go back to my timeline.” To his timeline, and to his family. To his brothers and sister and father and friends, who were all beat up and probably mourning him.

 To his family, to the place he belonged.

 “I don’t think you can portal yourself back like this. You might end up hurting yourself worse.” Other Leo said. “Trust me, just stay like this for a week. With how Draxum created us, your bones will heal in no time. So will your shell. I am sure your ninpo needs healing too.”

 “My ninpo?”

 “Overuse of ninpo can be damaging.” Mikey informed.

 Leo wondered how did he know this. Or why.

 As if he read his mind, Mikey elaborated. “Casey Junior explained that in the future because of the overuse of ninpo his Mikey suffered a lot from side effects. Draxum agreed too.”

 “What sort of side effects?” Leo asked.

 “Wounds on body, damaging your ninpo extremely badly, aging faster...” Mikey began counting.

 “Aaaand that’s why I must run some tests on you.” Donnie interrupted, goggles on his eyes.

 Tests didn’t sound fun right now, “They better be quick.”

 “I don’t think you should worry.” Other Leo said. “Though that explains the wounds in your hands.”

 What wounds..? Leo turned to look at his hands, bandaged. He didn’t feel any pain, but it was probably the painkiller. Good to see it was starting to work. Then he looked at Mikey again. His arms, the strange wounds—

 “Are those scars from overuse of ninpo?” Leo was looking directly at Mikey.

 He avoided his eyes, “Yes.”

 “What happened?” Was it during the Krang attack? After? Did his Mikey get those wounds, or could he stop that?

 Silence.

 Now, that won’t do. He was wounded, tired, and confused. He wanted answers, and he was going to get them. “Okay. Since no one is talking I guess it was bad. Did that happen during the Krang invasion attempt?”

 Raph sighed, “Yes, it did. But I am not sure this is the right time to talk about this.”

 “No, it is! I need to know, so when I go back, I can help.”

 “I don’t think you can do that.” His other version said. “That happens while you’re in the prison dimension. Or rather, probably around the time you escaped or shortly after that. Donnie, correct me if I am wrong, but even if after a week he manages to portal himself back at the same time he left, there isn’t much of a chance he can stop it, right?”

 Donnie hummed, “I don’t think he can even manage to go back to the time he left. Though time is a tricky concept, and there are many theories, and—”

 “Alright, alright, I get it. Fine.” Leo was so not in the place to listen to detailed explanations of time and space. Not when his mind was getting more and more nervous. “So let’s say I can’t go back for a week like you said, I need to know. Post Krang, what happened? What have I caused to change?”

 Did I put anyone in danger again?

 They clearly didn’t want to talk about it. Couldn’t blame them. Leo wanted to forget that day too, but he couldn’t. Not when he didn’t know his family’s fate.

 Finally other Leo took a step forward, “I wasn’t able to keep my katanas. I got trapped in the Prison Dimension with... him.” Leo watched as other Leo stopped for a brief second. “I am not sure for how long, but until Mikey ripped space and time to save my butt.” He smiled towards his little brother, “Our mystic warrior, Raph, and Donnie got me out. Closed the portal. Raph had some scars, he and Donnie both had similar wounds to Mikey’s on an arm but it wasn’t anything too serious. Even Mikey’s healed pretty fast. Donnie was stubborn but Mikey told us about his shell, some wounds there, but it was all stuff they can do without us. Dad, April, Junior, they all were fine too.”

 Those were good news. No major injuries that they’d need his help. Good.

 “To be honest, it was me who was beat up badly. So in your timeline that does not happen.” Other Leo turned his attention back to Leo, “Like I said, lucky.”

 Leo cringed, “Eugh boi, glad I wasn’t you. No offense.”

 “None taken.”

 There was something Leo wasn’t telling him, but he didn’t want to dig into that. Not when his brothers were here. It could be something that should stay between Leos.

 “How’s the scan, Don?” Other Leo turned to his twin, who no longer wore his goggles.

 “I couldn’t find anything new.” Donnie replied.

 “Good! Then you can go back home right after you heal, but we should probably ask Draxum first.”

 Mikey was right, but that didn’t mean Leo was happy about that. He wasn’t fond of Draxum’s company as much as his twin. “Just make sure he does not throw me off the roof or the window or something.”

 “You are never gonna let it go, will you?” Raph asked, most likely tired of hearing the same thing again and again after almost two years of the event. Too bad for him, he was going to hear it for forever.

 Both Leos answered at the same time: “Nope!”

 Donnie glared at them, “There is two of them now. We are doomed.”

 Mikey’s face lit up with realization, “We still haven’t figured out how to call you, other Leo!”

 “Easy, Lameonardo.” Raph teased.

 “Come on Raph, you can do better than this.” Leo smirked.

 “I think other me deserves a great title, like World’s Greatest Ninja.” Other Leo joined.

 “We are so not calling any of you like that. Never.” Donnie glared.

 “How about something silly, like uhh Poptart?” Mikey suggested.

 “Poptart?” Leo repeated.

 “I am hungry.” Mikey shrugged. “How about uh- double marked Leo?”

 “Double marked?” Leo asked.

 “Because there are two Leos and that makes double marks!” Mikey grinned.

 “Sorry Mike, but that doesn’t make any sense at all. Maybe if he had some sort of extra markings then maybe it could work.” Other Leo replied.

 “What was the Spanish word... tio? Ah no...” Raph struggled to remember.

 Meanwhile, Leo cringed, “Please don’t call me tio, it literally means uncle.”

 “I was trying to find the word for brother.” Raph explained.

 “Hermano. But I dunno, not really a nickname.” Leo hummed.

 “You know, we could call you Neon.” Other Leo said. “Like... Neon Leon. But you’re the Neon and I am the Leon.”

 Leo smiled at him. Like the name he had chosen for the video game records. “That’s not bad, other me.”

 “Thank you other me.” Other Leo made a dramatic bow. No- Leon made a dramatic bow. Right.

 One week. He had to wait for a week, and then he could go home. He could do that. All he wished was that his family would wait for a week too. Just one week.

 Donnie had never felt like this before. He didn’t exactly know what this feeling was. Worry? Sadness? Anger? Desperation? Maybe it was all of them together.

 His dumdum twin had just sacrificed himself.

 Not only that, but his dumdum twin’s tracker didn’t work. Donnie couldn’t see his vitals or his location!

 "I don't understand!" Donnie kept staring at his screen. The lights representing his family shone brightly, except for blue. There was nothing blue on the screen. Nothing to prove Leo was back. Nothing to prove Leo was alright. "We saw him get into that portal. He must be somewhere, there is no possibility of the tracker not working."

 "Maybe while fighting against Krang it got broken or something." Mikey tried to reassure. 

 "Maybe." Donnie repeated. 

 "Well, if he isn't here then he must've portaled somewhere safe." Raph said, no longer upset about Donnie putting trackers on them. "Maybe Dad and April are luckier. Donnie, you keep trying to find him."

 Donnie nodded, determined eyes fixated on the screen and his hands tapping it without a break.

 As Raph was about to move, he heard the call coming from April. "Found him?"

 "No, so you didn't either." April's voice sounded worried.

 This didn’t make any sense. None of this made sense. Where the heck was Leo?!

 "He isn't here." Raph replied, trying to keep his anxiety under control.

 "But where he could've gone?" Mikey questioned.

 "He has some favorite places, doesn't he?" April said. "We can check them."

 "He wasn't in his best shape, he might have accidentally portaled himself to somewhere randomly like the old days." Raph agreed. 

 "I hope he didn't portal himself to Tahiti." Mikey sighed. "Not the worst place but…"

 "How about the Hidden City? Or Hueso's?" Raph guessed. "I don't think he's somewhere hard to reach. We just need to keep searching!"

 "You are right, my son. We must keep searching." Splinter's voice said softly.

 Raph smiled at Mikey, then at Donnie. That's when he noticed the concern on Donnie's face. "Donnie?"

 He didn't answer. Instead, he kept staring at the screen.

 "Donnie, are you okay? You're worrying me." Raph watched as Donnie took a deep breath. 

 Then he finally said, "He might have portaled home." 

 "What? We just searched the whole lair." Raph didn't understand.

 "We did. But our lair. Our timeline's. What if he didn't portal to our world. Then he would end up portaling into a different universe or timeline, and that would explain why I can't find him no matter what I do! Because even broken I'd get signals! I did the design and coding and everything, I know how it works!" 

 "Donnie, what are you talking about?" 

 "Remember how Casey came from a different timeline? This might have created an issue in time and space and with Leo's messy portaling the dum dum might have ended up in a whole different timeline." He told them. “Or maybe it is something about ninpo and the dumdum mystic stuff! I don’t know, but he has portaled somewhere out of this planet at least once! You saw that too. And that is exactly why there is a possibility he has done that or something similar again.” 

 Donnie had seen how Leo had opened a portal purely by accident and ended up getting them almost eaten by some sort of creature while trying to escape from Stockboy’s plan. They had spent nights talking about how far he could portal. This should be the answer.

 Because any other answer would mean there was something worse happening. Donnie refused to believe anything worse was happening.

 Raph and Mikey looked at him, both looked even more worried now.

 “If it is really that… Then what will we do?” Mikey asked.

 “We keep searching,” Raph said. “But in case Donnie is right, we must prepare for that. What do you need, Donnie?”

 Donnie thought for a second. “I need to start doing some research and gain some information. I already had a plan for a dimension travel machine, but we need to be sure Leo is not here. Also it would be great if there is any more information I can gain about his mystic powers…”

 “I’ll try to reach Draxum.” Mikey announced.

 Donnie was relieved, “Thanks Angelo.” He really really didn’t want to ask for help from the yokai. 

 “Boys, I know it is hard but now I want you to stay there and treat your wounds.” Their dad said after a deep breath. “April, Future Boy and I can keep searching.”

 “But—”

 “Raphael,” Splinter interrupted again. “We will find him, but I cannot lose any of you too.”

 Raph seemed to be still upset, but he sighed and gave up fighting against Splinter. “Okay. We will join you as soon as we can.” He nodded to himself.

 Donnie glared at Raph. How could he give up so fast? Leo might need them! They didn’t know how much time they had! What if he was hurt? What if he needed them? What if they were losing time—

 “Donnie?”

 Donnie looked at Raph.

 “Are you okay?” He asked, genuinely worried. Again.

 “We must keep searching. Or at least try to gain more information.” Donnie said.

 “We will, but first we must treat our wounds. Dad’s right about that.”

 “And what if he is in the need of our help? What if he right now needs us?” Donnie retorted, voice a bit loud.

 “We can’t help him if our wounds get infected.” Raph pointed out. “If anything happens to us, we can’t help him.”

 “We can try and communicate with Draxum meanwhile.” Mikey said gently.

 “We will go back into searching right after taking care of our wounds, okay?” Raph reassured. “I am worried too, so the faster we get this done, the better.”

 He was right, and as Mikey said the time they would use to treat their wounds wouldn’t be fully wasted if they managed to reach Draxum. “Okay.”

 “Good. That’s a plan. Now, to the medbay.” Raph led them.

 Donnie slowly followed, trusting Raph’s words.

 That was a plan. A plan so they’d find him. Donnie knew they would. Because none of them would ever stop till they did. After all, they had hope. 

[elfboyeros]

Overcast Coastline

Read about the nerds and other nerds

“Klaus went missing on the 15th of March, Cobalt is murdered on the 23rd, 9 days later. Klaus was married to Greyson, Cobalt was a close friend, right? What if -just hear me out," Loki babbled on, as she and Amora sat on their bed talking about possible theories on Cobalt’s death, “Cobalt loved Greyson and wanted to be with him, but Klaus killed and went into hiding because he murdered someone?!”

“Cobalt?”  Amora asked the ghostly man sitting in her desk chair.

“Couldn’t have happened, I’m straight,” He replied, “I was also happily married to my lovely Primrose before death.”

Amora shook her head before looking back at Loki, “Straight, and happily married.”

“So, no love affair and no girlbossing wife,” Loki sighed, crossing off the theories of a list in a little notebook, “The last thing I got on my list is Ms. Thornton, could she have done it?”

“No!” Cobalt exclaimed, “Just as I loved Primrose, I loved Lilybeth just as much if not more! She would not have killed me; I refuse that notion!”

Amora shook her once more, “He wouldn’t believe it if it were true,” she replied, “Besides he’s seen Lilybeth, and he doesn’t have a bad vibe… he just gets sad.”

“I’ve died and my daughter has become a beautiful young lady, I’m sorry my depression is an inconvenience,” Cobalt sassed.

“I think we should stop for right now,” Amora sighed, “This is just getting us nowhere.”

Loki huffed, “Maybe we are looking in the wrong place?” she questioned, getting a confused look from Amora and even Cobalt, “We are trying to link Klaus with Cobalt, yet we know nothing about Klaus, maybe if we start looking into Klaus when can find out why he is missing which could lead to us finding out why Cobalt died.”

“So, we have to find Klaus,” Amora asked.

“Basically,” Loki answered making Amora groan into her pillow, “Or at least try to.”

“How are we supposed to do that?! We are students, moreover, we are seniors?! How the hell are we supposed to find an old man who has been missing for 15 years when we’ll have midterms in like 3 weeks!” Amora exclaimed sitting up before gesturing to Cobalt, “I’d rather be stuck with him! At least he’ll tell me if I’m failing my Trigonometry final!”

Cobalt shook his head before scoffing as Loki held in her laughter, clearing her throat, “Maybe you just need a little break for the ghost investigations,” the British girl posed, “Come with me into town tomorrow.”

“I thought you were going out with Lance,” Amora muttered.

Loki shrugged, “he said he wanted to hang out with Odis, and Luther said he was going to study with Iphigenie for their current events test, so I’m on my own tomorrow unless you come.”

Amora thought for a moment, spending 2 weeks on campus with Cobalt over her shoulder with no results in their little investigation seemed to put both of them on edge with each other. The thought was nice, being able to explore the town on Solostica would be nice too. The American girl looked to her ghostly companion who shrugged as if to say he didn’t care either way.

“I mean either way I’m going,” Loki remarked, holding a large strand of her hair, the green dye faded a good amount making it a sickly pale color, “I’m getting this hair dye!”

“I’ll go with you.”

Loki smiled, “Terrific!”

The next morning the two girls woke up after sleeping in, Cobalt did what he had been doing every morning, exiting the room to give them privacy, before they left. While walking down the paths leading to the exit of campus, Calliope passed by seeming running for her life.

“Calliope, everything okay?”

“Yeah,” She huffed, her cheerleading bag slamming into her side as she looked back at the two girls, “If anyone asked you didn’t see me!”

Loki and Amora looked at her confused as she ran to the main campus, she was already for cheerleading practice and yet she was running away from where they normally practice, the roommates looked at each other and shrugged before leaving campus, as Calliope ran through the halls of the large schoolhouse, slowing her pace as she reached the great music room were Odysseus, Lance, and Solomon resided inside. Solomon played the harp in the corner as Odysseus sat on one of the choir risers beside Lance, his light blue Guitar in his lap.

“Calliope, everything okay?” Lance asked, her panting at the door to the music room catching his attention.

Solomon stopped playing as all three of the boys waited for a response.

“I was the first one at practice today!” she huffed, “No one else was there. So, ha…. Huh… ha I left.”

“Calliope, if you want to quit the cheer team—” Solomon began because Calliope let out a laugh.

“And piss off Cassiopeia, not a chance!” Calliope replied, “I do that just by existing.”

“And skipping practice,” Odysseus commented, “Either way she is going to be pissed off at you.”

“The only reason she started the cheer team was to watch Roux practice football,” She huffed, “I don’t know why I had to be involved.”

She toddled over to Solomon’s place in the corner, dejectedly, “If it bothers you this bad, just quit,” Solomon remarked.

“If you quit, you can actually but in the campaign again!” Lance added with a smile, “I’ve missed Ruelle the cleric ever since the last time you played with us.”

Calliope smiled, “That’s a great idea.”

In the town center of Solostica’s city center with its cobblestone streets and its many small and hidden shops and convenience stores Loki and Amora stared at the many boxes, containers, tubes, jars, and pouches of hair on the shelf in front of them. All are color-coded and pleasing to the eye. Many brands Amora had never heard of before.

“I wish I had hair like yours,” Loki sighed.

“Mhm?” Amora hummed.

The British girl pointed to her roots, growing in a dark color of her roots where her green pieces used to be after tossing a boxed bleach in her little basket, “I need to get a bleach kit so the green will take on roots. If you dyed your hair any kind of fun colors, you wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh,” Amora replied, chuckling, “Bellamy dyed her once, it was purple. I remember asking my mom if I could dye my hair with her because she said it looked “so bad” and I remember it started a huge argument with my mom… she did not want me to dye my hair.”

Loki hummed, before pointing to all the boxes of hair dye, “Wanna give it a try?” she asked with a smirk painted across her lips, “’cause mummy isn’t here.”

Amora looked at all the hair dyes on the shelf, then back at Loki, who grinned down at her, “Alright! Let’s do it!” she replied, grabbing a random box off the shelf.

“Alright, but we don’t want to use that,” Loki replied, taking the box out of Amora’s hands and putting it back on the shelf, “If you want red, you should go with this one.”

Loki pulled a small box off the shelf with a simple pale green color and labeled named Deathly dyes, the color was called Lover’s Haze. Amora nodded as Loki looked at the green section before quickly grabbing a jar from the same brand but in a dark green color and walking toward the check-out counter.

They left the little convenience store before venturing around the town center some more, going into different little stores and shops not really buying anything but enjoying being off campus as well as each other's company.

Stopping by Vixen Café to grab a little something to eat, while also getting to see Iphigenie in action at work and Luther sitting outside working on a paper for one of his classes, aided by caffeine and chocolate croissant.

While stopped at an intersection, Amora stared at the beach which Loki noticed.

“You wanna go to the beach?” Loki asked.

Amora nodded and once the intersection was clear to cross, the two of them headed to the beach. Shoes were taken off and bags were dropped by the cement walk leading to the sands. Clean beige sand between their toes, with the smell of sea salt in the air and a light breeze.

Loki watched Amora from afar as she enjoyed the breeze and the salty air against her face. There is something so scenic about Amora, wearing a genuine smile as she heard the sounds of the ocean and waves crashing into the shore, enjoying the breeze as it moves her cardigan. Loki had never been fond of the beach, life events had turned memories of going to the beaches in England into reminiscences said rather not think about, however now staring at Amora the beach is no longer a place Loki wants to stay away from, rather a place she wants to stay if nothing above to keep seeing Amora smile a genuine smile.

But the skies won’t let wants become reality

“Amora we should get going!” Loki called, “It’s going to rain!”

Once at the back on campus, it was already drizzling, and when in the safety of their dorm room, pulling one of the girl's desk chairs into the bathroom, and sitting it in front of the sink and mirror.

“Is he around?” Loki asked, pulling out all the hair dye and other tools on the bathroom counter after bleaching the front pieces of her hair.

“No, he's probably still mad from yesterday,” Amora answered as she put on an old shirt the British girl gave her before hearing her scoff, “Or he’s just wandering.”

“Come sit,” Loki called as Amora made her way to the bathroom.

Amora entered the bathroom where Loki had some of her favorite music playing at a low volume, in an extremely old shirt covered in blotches of bleach and a pair of gym shorts, waiting for the young American girl a hand resting on the desk chair beside her and a foot resting against her calf.

“You wanna do the whole head or just a section?” Loki asked as Amora sat down.

“Uhm….I don’t know, what do you think?” Amora replied.

Loki hummed softly, “Let’s do your bangs, and your little front pieces, yeah?”

Amora nodded, as Loki opened the Lover’s Haze box and quickly read the instructions before plopping the dye into a mixing bowl, “Ready?” Loki asked.

“Yeah!”

Loki took the hair dye brush and began painting the pinkish dye on to Amora golden strains of hair, “Is Cobalt annoying at all?” the British teen asked.

“I mean sometimes, he makes math harder than it should be,” Amora answered, “Honestly he acts like my dad. Not like my dad, but he acts like a dad, which I know he is one, but we’ve only known each other for like a month he’s very fatherly, protective almost.”

Loki hummed curiously, “Like when I was in the library trying to figure out how to help him the talk I told you about everything, the Librarian—”

“Iphigiene’s weird ass mom?”

“Yes! He knocked over a stack of books to help me escape just to yell at me when I was safe!”

Loki chuckled, “And he’s an ass!” Amora groaned, “Telling me my math isn’t right when I do my homework but he won’t tell me what I’m doing wrong! And and and he makes little comments when I’m talking to people like his commentary is soooo important!”

“Oh! What does he say about me?” Loki asked, walking around her to get the other side of her hair.

“Chickadee, do you know, Loki stares at you often?”

“Have you realized that you are the only person she actively smiles at?”

“Loki seems fond of you.”

“Aw, she gave you her jumper because you were cold.”

“You too are quite cute together.”

Amora’s face flushed, remembering just a few of the many things that Cobalt had commented over the past two weeks, the all-around consuming feeling of simply enjoying being around Loki. The overwhelming feeling of a crush!

“H-he just make comments about... how helpful you are,” Amora answered, fumbling with her words before jumping at her phone ringing.

A single windchime emoji on the caller ID for a video call, answering Bellamy’s call with a smile and rosy cheeks, “Hey girly, what does Edgar like to play he hates the puff balls Jane likes to play with. I--” Amora could only see Bellamy’s light blue roots once she answered the call, before she looked at her phone wide-eyed, “WOAH! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE DYING YOUR HAIR?! And where did you get that shirt?”

Amora looked down at the shirt she was wearing to protect her skin from bright red hair dye,  a faded black T, and the graph for the band Oasis horribly faded. “It’s Loki’s, we’re doing this kind of spontaneity.”

“ ‘Ello Bellamy,” Loki commented, grabbing Amora’s bangs.

“Shit, she’s British!” Bellamy squealed, “Eee, your girlfriend is such a cutie, Amora!”

“Girlfriend?” Loki mused, “What have you been telling her, lovely?”

“Bella! She isn’t my girlfriend, she is my roommate!” Amora shrieked her face turning the same color as her hair dye.

“Roommate, girlfriend same different,” Bellamy shrugged.

“I like her already,” Loki muttered with a smirk.

“Amora what does Edgar like to play with?”

“Uhm… He likes the crinkly toys.”

“Got it got it,” Bellamy replied while throwing a couple of toys in her cart, “Is ther anything else I need to get for the boy, besides his special wet food?”

“I don’t think so,” Amora replied, “How are things back home?”

“Reese got kicked out of school,” Bellamy answered nonchalantly.

“WHAT!”

“Yeah,” Bellamy shrugged, “Mortemore had been shit-talking him since everything happened, Reese decided to punch him out in the hallway, and he got his ass expelled.”

 Loki clicked her tongue, “Serves him right,” she mumbled.

“I told Mortemore I would bake him a coffee cake,” Bellamy added, “As a thank you.”

“Oh, he’ll love that!” Amora replied with a small smile.

“All right, I only called to see what Edgar liked to play with,” Bellamy remarked, “I’ll text you later!”

“Bye Bellamy,” Amora replied, hanging up her phone.

Loki finally set the hairbrush in the sink, “You need to sit with it for 30 minutes.”

Amora nodded, getting up and leaving the bathroom, “What have you been telling Bellamy, for her to call me your girlfriend?” Loki chucked putting her head in the sink bowl.

Amora’s face became hotter, before covering her face, “I HAVEN’T TOLD HER ANYTHING!” She yelped, “I just told her that I had a grungecore roommate that was nicer then I thought, and I told her about hanging out with you during school!”

Loki hummed raising her head out of the sink, “You look cute when are all flustered,”  she remarked with a smirk before putting her head back in the sink.

Amora blushed even more before going to sit on her bed and wait for the time to wash her the dye out of her hair as Loki dyed her hair green. Once everything was all said and done, Amora stared at herself in the mirror her bangs and the large chunks of hair that she kept resting off her shoulders a nice pinky-red color.

“You like it?” Loki asked.

“Yeah!” Amora said with a smile, “Thanks Loki.”

“Anytime, lovely.”

Once cozy in her bed in the early morning Amora left a heavy weight on top of her, groggily waking up to the intense stare of Cobalt an odd and wicked grin, “I have a lead!”

[lifeonthemurdersim]

Ghouls By Nature Fandom/Universe: Ghost (band) Characters/Pairing: Swiss Ghoul x OC AO3 Link(full tags, warnings etc here) Word count: 3,147 words Synopsis: Cadence is not particularly shy when it comes to admitting what he wants. On this occasion though, Swiss can tell before he even has a chance to. Author's Note: This was actually the first one of these fics I finished, almost a month ago now! I post about my Ghost OC Cade on my other account @chase-the-music so I'll be reblogging this there. More about Gorekinktober on my pinned post here! Kinktober prompt(s) used: Predator/Prey Goretober prompt used: N/A

Cadence is pretty fucking tired right now. But he guesses he should probably get up off of his back eventually. With a soft sigh, the Advocatus Angeli heaves himself off of the squishy red mat on the floor of his office and into a seated position, smiling to himself.

In theory that had only been meant to be a little break from work, but it had taken a while, and honestly? He didn't think he was getting back to it tonight anyway. He'd been working so late that the words on the pages had all started to jumble together, and it had already grown dark outside. Maybe he should go get a snack or something, get to bed early. He grabs his thigh-high boots that he'd discarded beside him and pulls them on. As he's doing up the zips, he hears footsteps coming towards his open doorway at that point, so he leans forwards with his arms perched on his knees to see who's approaching.

He's half-expecting it to be Sister coming to drop yet another stack of paperwork on his desk, but instead, to his pleasant surprise, two long horns pop into view, followed by the head of their owner peering around the doorframe with an unusual degree of caution. "Alright Swiss?" Cade greets with a smile. Once he's looked over him and the office however, Swiss grins and waves at him, exuding his usual more confident demeanour again as his tall frame steps into the doorway fully.

"Valerio." he replies amicably, pretending to tip his hat to him, making Cade smile in return. He got on with most of the Ghouls and Ghoulettes now, but it was unsurprising he had his favourites. Seeing one back to back with the other was ideal. "Looking for a... partner?" he asks with a raised brow, nodding at his friend on the mat.

"Oh." he chuckles. "No, it's alright, me and Cumie were just sparring." He smiles slightly. "We were pretty well matched actually, lasted ages."

"Oh really?" Swiss asks in reply. "Hmm... bet she went easy on you."

"Erm, no, if anything I went easy on her." Cade replies haughtily. It wasn't entirely untrue, considering he'd been reluctant to put an end to it too soon. He paused. "We had to call it a draw in the end though because she has movie night with Cirrus tonight."

"I see..." the Ghoul replies. He pauses. "Does that... bother you?" he asks in a casually inquisitive tone.

Cade looks up at him, cocking his head to one side "What?" he asked, genuinely unsure why he was asking. "Why would it bother me?"

"Oh, I just meant because you're attracted to her." Swiss explained with a light shrug.

That caught Cade completely off guard. Not because he didn't have a point, but because he definitely wasn't expecting it. "Wh-what?" he asks.

"I said you're attracted to Cumulus." Swiss says with equal nonchalance but considerably louder. He definitely knew what he was doing by the teasing grin on his face, too.

"Shhhh-" Cade hisses back abruptly with a scowl, waving his arms to silence the Ghoul without really thinking about how much more obvious that made it. He beckons Swiss closer so he could talk more quietly and the other obliges. "OK fine, look, I'm not getting all lovey-dovey about her or anything like that." he explained honestly. "She's my friend and... well yeah, obviously I... think she's hot." He side-eyed Swiss a little. "But how did you know that?" He was a little obvious with these things, he had to admit; he was unable to resist flirting a little with anyone he felt inclined towards. But he didn't recall Swiss seeing the two of them interact that much. He tended to spend time one-on-one with his friends where he could.

"Well you did just say you were playing with her-" Swiss begins to explain.

"Sparring with." Cade corrects, not sure if he's doing so because he doesn't want rumours that could upset her to spread or because further slightly distracting images could be elicited in his brain by that choice of words.

"-and the pheromones you're throwing out are stronger than usual." he finishes matter-of-factly, ignoring Cade's interjection.

"You... you can...?" Cade began, cutting himself off. "Oh for fucks sake, I bloody knew it." he groans in annoyance. A thought about whether he emitted some kind of Ghoul pheromones had crossed his mind some time ago, but he figured since none had shown much reaction to it, it was just paranoia on his part. "So... can she tell?"

Swiss shrugs. "I'm more sensitive to it than the other Ghouls." he clarifies. "But if she was that close to you, I'm guessing she knows." Cade didn't fully know what to do with this information. He wasn't sure how far he wanted to go with that attraction in the first place. Maybe she wasn't either. Maybe they were at a metaphorical stalemate much like the physical one they'd been in minutes earlier.

They'd only had one conversation about that sort of thing, a few days back in fact. He'd been subtly trying to find out if she was into men, or humans for that matter so he'd steered the conversation in that direction himself while braiding her long, cloudlike hair.

"I like to be chased a little."  he recalled her saying as she turned back to look at him, her tail swishing slightly and brushing against his stomach, making him shiver softly. He wasn't sure he understood that. It wasn't like he spoke every sordid thought that crossed his mind, particularly when he was convinced nothing would come of it, but he was straightforward enough when someone else showed interest. It would make it a lot easier if everyone was like that. Or if he had the sense Swiss seemed to have, for that matter.

"Wait, wait hang on, how come I can't sense them then?" he asked in realisation.

"I would imagine since you're only part Ghoul?" Swiss suggested. "I don't really know how hybrids work. That's why you're so... fascinating." There was no sarcasm to it, just a friendly smile as he offers Cade a hand up from the mat.

"God, that's so fucking unfair." the shorter male complains, but takes the hand to get up to his feet. "So... you can basically pick up on everyone I'm attracted to?"

"Why, how many are there?" Swiss teases, though there's definitely a thread of genuine intrigue in it. Cade simply lets out a huff of laughter in response. There wasn't anyone he was seriously hung up on, not at the moment, but when it came to people he found hot...? Well there was a bit of a variation. "OK, no, not as such." he confirms as he loosens his grip on his friend's hand, his touch lingering for a moment. "It's more... instinctive. Just because I know when you're hungry doesn't mean I always know who you're hungry for, right?" He finally let go, Cade bringing the hand back to rest on his own chest. Swiss had a hell of a grip, but it had always been oddly endearing.

"Hmm." he responded thoughtfully. It wasn't like this was something he wasn't comfortable talking about. "Well I... guess I have had reason to be a little... "hungrier"... than usual recently." It had been some time since he'd had sex and right now he was too stressed with work to decide what he even wanted to do about that. It was no surprise he'd used a brief window of free time to get in some physical contact with one of the people he was attracted to.

"Positively starving." Swiss teases him, leaning down towards him a little. Cade's suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat. He never tends to have an issue with someone getting into his personal space, in fact he's usually the one doing it to others. But there is the very odd occasion when it can be just a tad... overwhelming. He leans back slightly against his desk, placing both hands flat on top of it in an attempt to get some space and fight the feeling he already knows is weaving its way through his body.

"I think that's... an overexaggeration." he responds, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face. Swiss looks him up and down, but doesn't attempt to come closer again... which is a shame because now the sense of overwhelm is gone, Cade finds himself missing it. The grass is always greener, he supposes. It takes a lot of self-control to stay poised, prevent himself moving closer.

"Then why did I pick up on you from Sister's office, hmm?" Swiss challenges. Cade frowns at him for a moment, trying to assess if he means it.

"...Bollocks." he eventually scoffs. "There is no way you can smell my pheromones from all the way across the Ministry." But it raises some questions for him. A lot of questions. Like why, if that were the case, Swiss would choose to follow that scent. His pulse quickens a little. Maybe he doesn't need to be holding himself back so much after all. Swiss pauses for a moment, eyes fixed on him.

"Tell you what." he responds with a mischievous smile. "I'll prove it. You make your way to anywhere in the grounds." Swiss looks him up and down, and then peers down at him determinedly. "And I'll hunt you down."

The words send a little shiver up Cade's spine. He manages to swallow and feign nonchalance though, raising his brows in amusement. "You know I'm not really the type to be "hunted"..." he insists with a slightly nervous chuckle. He has a point. He's excellent at evading people if he really wants to. He's a fast runner, has quick reflexes, and thanks to his fairly small stature he can fit into some unusual places. But he can't deny the surprising level of excitement tingling in his chest at the prospect. He reaches to push his hair back over his shoulders so it's out of the way, then puts his hands on his hips, straightening up off the desk. "...so firstly, you better get a good trail on me or however this works because it is fucking on." he confirms, to which Swiss emits a low chuckle at his acceptance. "Secondly..." he says, peering up at Swiss through his dark lashes flirtily. He knows exactly what he's doing but he can't help himself. "...need I remind you I need to stay horny for your little game to work?"

Swiss's laugh morphs into a far more booming one at that. He leans closer to Cade, his locs brushing softly against the bare section of the others chest and neck, a grin still plastered on his face. At first it looks like he's intent to stare him right down, but at the last moment he diverts to the side; hovering his nose and mouth against the side of Cade's now exposed neck and taking a deep inhale of his scent. Cade responds with a barely audible gasp and shifts slightly, hand gripping to the table as Swiss's own fragrance- earthy and musky and tempting- embraces him too. He may not have the ability to smell pheromones but he certainly knows what he wants. The preceding exhale is hot against his neck as Swiss speaks again.

"I don't think that's going to be a problem, little lynx..." he replies. Cade has a feeling his choice of animal is very much significant. Deadly to a mouse or a bird or even a deer. But one that to a wolf or a bear or a larger big cat... could very well be prey. A challenge. "...do you?" It's evident to Cade now that the excitement tingling through him definitely extends beyond the spirit of friendly competition now. Then again, from the way his heart had started pounding from the minute Swiss helped him up, it likely had from the get-go. He turns his head to lock eyes with the Ghoul, a hazy feeling flooding his brain, and for a second he questions if they're really going to play this game because right now he's not sure he wants to go anywhere. But the other proceeds no further, hovering and breathing onto his neck for just a few more moments before drawing back up to his full stature and folding his arms. "I think you deserve a good head start, though." he adds. "Got to be a severe disadvantage being mostly human." Cade gives him an amused look, circles the other in order to get around him without turning his back, but his steps are shaky.

"Y-you might regret that." he chuckles, some of his usual confidence missing; he can't seem to take his eyes off his supposed opponent. "If you don't find me within... half an hour, I win." he adds haughtily. He's not sure if he's trying to up the urgency or the degree of challenge. Either way some part of him is hoping it'll lure the other in further. Swiss nods but doesn't break the stare, and it feels odd to turn away, so Cade finds himself striding backwards out of his own office. He's still perfectly confident in his abilities. But he thinks his motivations might have shifted quite dramatically. He gives Swiss a smirk before he disappears from the doorway, turning on his heel abruptly so he can walk forwards, glancing once back over his shoulder before proceeding towards the nearest door to the garden. It's only when he's outside, and the chilly evening air hits him, that he breaks into a jog, then a run.

He knows where to head for. Maybe it's a little predictable, but there's a wooded area to the back of the gardens. It's about as far from his office as you can get, and there are places to hide. Is he really going to play this game? It seems a little silly. What if he just ends up getting lost amongst the trees while Swiss wanders aimlessly to find him? But then the alternate outcome overtakes him, the thought of what will happen if Swiss catches him, and it keeps him going; he realises at that point that he's not running to escape, he's running because he wants to be caught.

So he's rather pleased when, as he glances back right before heading into the thicket of trees, he thinks he catches Swiss in the distance heading out one of the other doors from the Ministry. He runs at first, but then slows, ducks behind a tree, turns to check where the other is. But as soon as he sees the Ghoul he runs again. Not wanting to get caught just yet. But wanting to make sure he's still being chased. He didn't expect it to be quite this thrilling, but every time he spots the other male, the tingling feeling in his chest swells a little more. The full Ghoul clearly has more stamina than him though, because soon Cade begins to actually need the occasional stops more and more, and the gap is closing rather rapidly. He decides to divert off the main path and off to the left, ducking behind a tree for a longer breather. His breath is reduced to deep panting now, but the friction he's feeling against the front of his tight trousers confirms it's not just from the physical exertion. Maybe he finally understands why Cumulus said she likes to be chased. Though she definitely didn't mean it this literally.

He leans back, closing his eyes for a moment, then opens them and peers around the side of the tree once more. It appears Swiss didn't go the same way as him, because he looks for a while but he can no longer spot him anywhere. Hmm. A little disappointing, but maybe when he's able to run again he can make his way to somewhere more obvious. It's only when he looks forward again that he sees a forked tree mere metres front of him... with a pair of eyes illuminated by the moonlight peering from between them. "Oh... shit..." he mutters under his breath, but it's too late. He doesn't even have time to fully turn around before Swiss has caught up with him, reaching a hand to the back of Cade's head to prevent him getting knocked out as he tackles him right to the floor.

After that initial act of care however, all caution is thrown to the wind as Swiss pins Cade to the ground with his torso and begins to pull on his hair and take enthused bites of anywhere he can reach; his earlobe, his jaw, his neck, his shoulders. Cade responds with grunts and moans and gasps and rough scratches of his nails against Swiss's arms and back and chest, before he eventually grabs for the demon's horns and coaxes him into a rough, messy kiss. With the other's body pressed right against him, he can feel a warm, large shape growing firm against the crease between his groin and thigh. He moans lightly into the kiss, glad it's not just him, and runs his tongue across the Ghoul's jaw and down his neck.

"Quite some tool you've got there Mr. Swiss army knife." he teases in the other's ear, pushing his hips up into the contact. "You didn't give me much of a head start though." he points out, though with his breathy tone it comes out as far more of a tease than a genuine complaint.

Swiss gives a rather throaty laugh. "You say that, but you probably could have outrun me if you'd taken those ridiculous heels off." he chides in return, running a hand down the outside of one of Cade's thighs until he grazes the leather of his boots. Then he lifts himself up higher and flips Cade over, lifting his hips so he's on all fours beneath him and reaching around to undo the buttons on his shirt.

"Well, yeah, I probably could've..." Cade admits, as he turns back slightly, getting a good look at just how hot Swiss looks in the moonlight as his scent weaves around him once more. He hesitates, but ultimately decides to give it away. "...But I think you know why I didn't."

Swiss slips Cade's shirt down off his shoulders and leans over his whole body, nuzzling against the back of his neck and inhaling once more, only this time he lets out a guttural groan in response, grinding against his ass hard and taking another bite of his shoulder that makes the Advocatus gasp. "Yes..." he murmurs softly as he takes Cade's wrists in that firm grip of his and slides them forward against the dewy grass, pulling his upper body down. "...I think I do..."

[atlas-library]

☾ baby girl ☽ an imagine.（001）

The morning after a party where too many drinks have been consumed, Toge wakes up with a gigantic hangover— He usually handles alcohol pretty well, so right now it's probably a miracle he woke up in the first place. His awakening was exchanged against the memories of last night, something he doesn't really mind since parties are most of the time unoriginal and boring.

Toge's in a bed, naked— So far, everything's normal. But he feels someone else in the bed. He slowly turns around despite the blur in his eyes, and—

'You're fucking kiddin' me.'

Sukuna just said that. Sukuna, AKA The Quarterback™, the fucker everyone loves to hate and hates to love, Yuuji's twin brother who's in the same bed as Toge right now and is probably very naked too.

Toge panics: as Sukuna opens his mouth to say something else, Toge just throws him out of the bed— With a surprising amount of strength, especially considering Sukuna is a 6'9" football player monster, meanwhile Toge is as thin as a toothpick compared to him, as well as a short 5'5".

After Sukuna swearing, trying to grab Toge to make it even, and getting thrown pillows, lamps and nightstands at his face, a truce is offered.

'Fuck, okay, gremlin, wait— STOP THROWING SHIT AT ME— Fuck, my head, okay, WAIT— WHITE FLAG WHITE FLAG!'

The truce is accepted after Toge throws one of his shoes at Sukuna's face: the white flag he's been waving around is Toge's bra.

'Okay,' Sukuna starts while massaging his forehead, 'maybe it's not as bad as it looks.'

'We're naked in a bed after a party filled with alcohol.'

'... Maybe we were very hot.'

'I sleep with my underwear on, unless I fuck.'

Okay, Sukuna thinks, not helping our case here.

'Okay but you'd remember me fucking you—'

'Sukuna,' Toge snorts, 'I don't think you realise how vanilla you are. Trust me, I wouldn't remember it.'

Killing is bad. Killing is not something people do. Sukuna is people. Sukuna does not kill. Breathe in, breathe out.

'Spread your legs.'

Toge stares at him, not sure he understands.

'What?'

'Spread. Your. Legs.' Sukuna grabs him, makes him fall on his back, and spreads his legs; Toge's cunt is already wet— Yeah, everyone knows he's a slut. Especially since he broke things off with Okkotsu three months ago.

'Sukuna, are you really going to fuck me to prove a point?' Toge groans, but his pussy is panting and widening for him already. Hm, so the rumours about him being a sex freak were true.

Sukuna ignores Toge and puts his head right between his legs, his nose way too close for it to be innocent— Not that he ever was, anyway.

'Sukuna...' Toge sighs with his teeth clenched with annoyance, yet Sukuna can see his pussy get even wetter. Focus.

'Nope,' he eventually says with his eyes still staring at Toge's wet hole, 'I didn't fuck you.'

'... I'm gonna regret this but how exactly do you know?'

'Your cunt ain't broken.'

... Did Toge hear correctly? He did.

'You know you saying stuff like that is the reason no one likes you, right?'

'Cry me a river. My dick's too fat for your cunt to be intact, so 1 + 1 equals we didn't fuck.'

Sukuna finally sits up, his hands still on Toge's legs.

Fuck, he looks so small in this angle. / Fuck, he looks so big in this angle.

'But,' Toge hesitantly starts, looking down at Sukuna's (fat) cock, then up to his eyes again, 'maybe we should check your theory.'

'Hm,' Sukuna simply says, already feeling his breathing become heavier— Toge has the cutest breasts, he's just noticed. 'Just in case.'

They stare at each other for a bit.

'No telling Yuuji,' they both promise.

The rest is history.

[stomach-hugs-n-loves]

O No intro

Yeah Idk if that's anything, but here is the first part of a g/t story (may turn into vore, not sure yet, just in case I'll tag it). I'm trying to get back into writing and wanted just a trope story but I got carried away, so this is more exposition and characterizing than real g and t interactions, so feel free to skip if you're just hankering for the Good Stuff and don't care too much about characters/world building. That's why it's the intro!

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: food, meal skipping mention, poorly written, g/t and possibly vore down the line for the whole story, I'm making it up as I go a little bit

Enjoyyyyy

“Shit!” Devon ripped his hand away from his unfinished project, attempted to shake the remnants of hot glue from his finger tip.  The deep tan skin of his brow wrinkled in a wince, and he set the glue gun on a scrap of cardboard.

“Try to be nice to mice, and this is what it gets me,” He huffed, glowering at the minor burn he sustained.  Something has been eating holes in his cereal boxes and pillow cases, and as a sophomore in college, he had to pinch every penny he could.  Sure, for now it was barely a contamination concern, but he couldn't afford to call in sick to his job or buy new bed clothes if he let the infestation grow.

That being said, he was a biology major with a minor in keeping sane (read: art).  Hence the contraption he had burned himself creating: a humane mousetrap.  It consisted of a bucket, a ladder, a dowel rod, and some ingenuity.  A large hole was cut in the middle of the bucket lid and a hot glue hinge attached the perimeter of the lid to the loose piece.  Food is put in the middle, mouse goes for the food, falls into the bucket, problem solved.  In theory, at least.  He honestly should have looked up some sort of tutorial rather than building it off the dome.  But Devon was nothing if not determined, even to his detriment.

“Whatever, it should be fine.” He put a bit of pressure on one side of the seesaw-like part of the lid and sighed in relief when it quickly gave way.  He contemplated adding a sort of hide and using extra materials to secure one side, but after checking his watch, bulked.  He knew rodents weren't brainless, but he didn't want to delay the set up of the trap for much longer.  He'd already lost his appetite for his honey-nut cheerios after finding a hole in the box, he'd have to start skipping breakfast if he didn't avert the contamination of his precious corn flakes, too.

He stood on creaky legs, sighed.  He had class in the morning, and he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.  He shuffled into the bathroom, mindlessly going through his nighttime routine until he threw himself under the dark red sheets of his bed.  Rolling onto his side, he took deep, steady breaths, let the anxieties of the day flow out with each exhale, until one final thought left his weary mind.  Tomorrow, I'm catching that dang rat.

-

Sunlight squeezed through a small crack in the mortar between brown-beige bricks and right into the eyes of a man sleeping in a matchbox full of cloth.  He snorted awake, rubbing his eyes and staring blearily at his surroundings.  Small ornaments, earrings, stamps, and dulled glass adorned the “walls” of his “room,” which was a section of inner wall he'd hollowed most of the insulation out of.  Yawning, the man pushed himself up out of the box, shielding his brown eyes with a pale hand.  He scooted to the edge, threw his legs over, and stood, a patterned rug shielding his feet from the cool concrete.  He grabbed a comb made from straw and ran it gingerly through his short black side part, only glancing in the mirror piece mounted next to his bed.  

“Beck,” He started at the shout, “you're gonna be late to the meet up and miss out on your trades!”

The man, Beck, let his shoulders sag. “Coming, Tallulah.”

He shuffled over to a drawer made of some sturdy fabric and picked out a fast outfit: a burgundy robe.  A bit informal, but he was up later than usual.  Plus, it's not like he would have to impress anyone.  Beck had been living in the community for two whole years at this point.  He could rock casual for one meeting.  He slid on some sandals made mostly of cardboard, grabbing his burlap bag from the floor.  Thank God he’d already packed it, otherwise he’d have to make the trip alone.  As it was, he pushed open the door, the back of a remote’s battery case, to Tallulah.

“You’re lucky I hate you the least.”

“I feel it.”

She was a stout woman – well, more so than Beck – with long silver hair that framed the delicate features of her face.  If one were so rude as to guess her age, they would be about a decade too low.  She aged like wine, as she often reminded those around her.  She wore a lengthy blue dress with flower print, perhaps literally from some drapes, with her own sandals with matching fabric going over top of the foot.  In her hands was a sort of bucket full of sweet smelling, small, white crystals.

“Sugar?” Beck seemed to look at it too long, as she flicked his forehead with a sigh. “Ow!”

“Don’t even think about it!”  She went off deeper into the building, exaggerated.

“Sheesh, you could have concussed me.” Beck rubbed his head with a smirk, latching his door shut before catching up.  The gray, tunneled halls were well trodden, even and flat like a road.  Because Beck was on the outskirts, it was less so until it intersected with another, more traveled path.

“Anything you’re especially looking for this week?” Beck asked, making room for some others passing them.

“You mean aside from ol’ Vernon’s face when everyone leaves his sweetener for mine?”  She adjusted her hold with a smug look. “I sure ain’t looking for what you drag in, Mr. Under the Fridge.”

“That was a year and a half ago!  How was I supposed to know why no one has ever brought ice to share?”  He fiddled with his bag strap. “Besides, it was still water!”

“Yeah, dirty water even the gardeners didn’t want to take!”  She stopped to cackle, careful to keep hold of the pot.  “I’ll tell you what, you may not be good for trades, but you are fun to watch!”

Beck rolled his eyes, still tugging the belt.

“Come on, you know I’m messing with you.”  She reached up and tousled his hair, perfectly restoring his bed head before he could duck away.

“Tally!”  He complained as he worked on mitigating the damage, but the dimples on his cheeks betrayed him. “I know, I just don’t remember the last time I really got congratulated beyond pity points.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Becky, you’ve done plenty.”  She said, then pointed her chin down the path. “The market’s just ahead, and you brought stuff, right?”  He nodded, not meeting her eye. “Exactly.  Even if you hadn't, and even if you never did and never will, you are a part of this community, Becky, and that makes you worthy.”  She squeezed his shoulder.  Then she punched it. “Now get set up fast because I ain’t setting this anywhere but a prime stall, pretty boy!”  She proceeded to run with surprising agility, leaving Beck in her trail.

The man sputtered, shook his head. “God help me if I ever do understand her, it means I’ve lost it, too.”  She may be right about him, but she was also right that he should get a move on lest he have to set up on the floor outside.

He entered a much deeper path, leading to the market site.  It was in the very center of the building, and it led to an immediate, metal opening.  Early birds sometimes had to open this mesh doorway themselves, but at this time, it was held open to welcome all.  He stepped through it alongside a few others, and entered a large metallic chamber with grated side walls and a ceiling, unlike the solid steel of the entrance wall and the one Beck was facing.  Before that wall, though, were dozens of people like him, but also in all different shapes and sizes. Most stood behind stalls with miscellaneous scraps and crafts, some sat behind their set ups, others just gave from their own hands as they passed.  Tallulah was already at a dark wood table making faces at salt and pepper man with his own container of white shards, making Beck’s smile widen.

After a bit of searching, he discovered an unclaimed counter.  He quickly made his way over, swinging his pack off onto the rickety birch planks. From the corner of his eye he saw others closing in, doubtless with their own goods to trade.  He can’t leave them empty handed!  He rummaged through his things before giving up and upturning it and letting everything spill straight onto the table. An abundance of soft white cloth, and another bag, this one sealed plastic, tumbled out.  As the visitors strolled closer, Beck ripped open the opaque plastic, revealing its contents: several beige ‘O’ shapes, smelling distinctly of processed oats and honey.

“Come take a look at what I’ve brought,” Beck called to passers by, “There’s plenty more where this came from!”

[milkywaygg]

The Cosmas REVAMP (Chapter 2)

After saying goodbye to Nora, desperate to leave her alone to stay on her good side, Linnie left the building as he dug around in his pants pocket, feeling his heart drop slightly as the normally sitting bottle spray was not there. Once he had left the building, Linnie turned and hid in the corner of the building to take his phone out of his bag, shuffling the many textbooks that he had brought with him. Turning it on, he clicked on his twin sister, Daisy’s, contact information and sent her a message, hoping that he wasn’t too late.

Daisy? Are you still awake?

Nah. Just cramming for this stupid history test tomorrow. Why?

You wouldn’t mind picking me up, would you? I really don’t think I should fly home by myself. I left my pepperspray at home.

You don’t have your wand on you? Can’t you teleport home?

I don’t have my license yet. I have to re-take the test remember?

Right right. Yea, gimmie a min to find my wand. I’d take the car but mom and dad are asleep, hence why they didn’t blow up ur phone given how late it is lol.

I know I know. I’m sorry. I just lost track of time and…I met someone.

Oooo you don’t say? I’ll be there in 2 mins, then you’ve got some tea to spill, Mister!

Laughing slightly, Linnie kept himself hidden as he shoved the few books that he had pulled out back in his bag, careful not to let any of them smash his wand. He sighed somewhat disappointedly at his wand as his mind replayed all the failed practical exams he had faced, due to being somewhat magically inferior to most of the student population. While Daisy was able to teleport on her first try on exam day, Linnie hadn’t managed at all, and when given a second chance, he teleported with an arm and a leg missing, literally. He also remembered what happened earlier that day during class, where the baby had shrunk him accidentally, and he was left squealing in the corner until his teacher had helped him. With every lesson, Linnie felt a wave of laughter overwhelm him as he failed every spell and counter spell, despite knowing everything in theory. He knew the wand movements, he knew the correct incantations, but somehow..it never turned out in his favor.

Catching him off guard, a loud POOF suddenly appeared in front of him, forcing Linnie to clutch his chest and fall backwards. Daisy, a tall girl with shoulder-length green hair and hexagon shaped glasses behind her pastel green eyes, smirked slightly as she helped her brother out.

“You just can’t stay outta trouble, can you?”, she said jokingly, “What are you doing back here? I expected you near the front door or something.”

‘I-I-I just didn’t want anyone to see me, and try to rob me. I-I forgot my stuff back at the house.”

“Rob us? Shit, if they robbed us, I would have been like, wait? We got money?”, Daisy laughed, grabbing his wand out as she grabbed Linnie’s arm, “Now come on. Wouldn’t want to keep mom and dad worried.”

Linnie felt as if his body were being crushed as Daisy teleported him and herself back towards their bedrooms, split into two different sides. Both sides had a desk for school stuff against the lime green walls, and Daisy’s laptop illuminated her agricultural studies and history textbooks that were lied around, alongside papers and pens. The twins’ beds stood next to each other in the middle of the room, while a single lamp shined in the corner. Linnie tossed his backpack onto his bed and took a seat on the desk, resting his arm a bit as Daisy smiled at him.

“Sooo…you gonna tell me about this mystery woman?”, Daisy pried, making Linnie squirm slightly.

“Well, it wasn’t a date or anything. She just looked so sad and I thought maybe she wanted someone to talk to.”

“Uh huh…”, Daisy said, urging Linnie to go into more detail. “What’s she look like? She got a name.”

“She had this curly, cyan hair and was wearing a letterman jacket, kind of like how all the football players wear?”, Linnie started to explain, but grew worried as Daisy’s smile started to fade, “What? What’s the matter?”

“Not Nora Cosma.”

“Um…yes..her. Why?”

“Linnie, lemme ask you something.”, Daisy asked, rubbing her temples slightly. Of all the people he could have interacted with tonight, he chose her?! “Do you know her well?”

“Not really. I mean, we do have AP Literature together, and occasionally I’ll watch her play before we go perform with the band for half time. Why?”

“Ehhh…I think you should be careful around her, Lin.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Well…she’s not exactly student of the year, if you catch my drift.”, Daisy shrugged, re-counting the last few interactions with Nora. “You know how I was late to first period this morning? That bitch shoved me in the locker in the men’s room, and everyone thought I was some sort of pervert. Thanks to her, I’ve got detention for the next two weeks. Thank the stars I didn’t get suspended.”

“Did mom and dad get upset at you?”

“They did until I told them what happened. Mom’s gonna make a call to the school in the morning about it.”, Daisy sighed, “But anyways, I don’t think Nora’s the type of person you want to be associated with.”

“Oh dear. I wish I would have know all that happened to you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not you fault. Just please..”, Daisy pleaded, “If you do get involved with her, please please be careful. I don’t think she’s going to treat you right if you do get with her. I mean, you saw what she did to me, and I’ve overheard her a million times about how weak she thinks men are, so..”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I think she’s taken already.”, Linnie shrugged, “She was on her phone most of the time I was there and looked like she was texting someone, so I’m not sure. I-I wasn’t going to get with her or anything, but I just wanted to make sure she as doing ok.”

“Damn Linnie, you’re a better person than me. If that were me, I’d have let her suffer.”, Daisy said, “Anyways, I gotta get back to my studying. Let me know if the light disturbs you.”

“Really quick, Daisy? Can I ask you a question?”, Linnie asked softly, shuffling in his seat. Daisy nodded. “Do you um…think I’m stupid?”

“What? No! Why would you ask that? Are you crazy?”, Daisy asked, the question sending her into shocked, “Why? Did she call you stupid. Why I outta-“

“No no no! Please! She didn’t say anything to me, I promise!”, Linnie said, his voice getting somewhat high pitched, “No. It’s just…I’ve been thinking about all those practical tests that I keep messing up and today I had a bit of an accident in class.”

“What happened?”

“Well, you know that daycare class I keep asking you to join me in…Dina, that baby that I mentor, accidentally got a hold of Mr. Langston’s wand today and shrunk me with it, and well, you know I’m still struggling to transform correctly, so I had to try not to get eaten by this giant cockroach while the rest of the class searched for the wand.”

“Ooo ouch! Are you ok? Did she hurt you?”

“Not on purpose. The poor dear. She felt so bad and didn’t know what she was doing.”

“Yikes. See, that’s why I prefer pets over babies and children. They can’t use wands like we can.”

“Well I know, but I don’t know. I love cats and dogs but taking care of children just makes me feel extra warm inside. I don’t know. Just…I’m not mad at Dina or anything. It was just an accident after all. It’s just..sometimes I think I’m too dependent on other people to come and send me. I’m just wondering if I’m stupid or weak.”

“Ha! You’re not stupid or weak by any means! Hell, you always make the best grades in history and literature, since you aren’t waving a magic wand or anything. You’re crazy good at theories and stuff, and it takes an incredibly amount of patience to babysit and care for those children they way you do and never ask in return.”, Daisy said, smiling at Linnie, who seemed to perk up a little bit, “Just..the practical part of school just takes time to develop, and everyone develops at a different speed. Some people are born incredibly powerful while others have to wait a while longer. You’re so patient with everyone else, but sometimes, I think you forget to be patient with yourself.”

“I know, but it’s so much easier said that done. I really don’t know how you do it, Daisy.”

“Just takes time. Just know that if you need help, I’ve got your back, and I’m not gonna let anyone mess with you..ever. Now, you should probably get some sleep. We gotta be up bright and early for this stupid test.” Linnie smiled at his sister thankfully as he moved his backpack from the bed to his desk chair, before changing into his pajamas and settling into bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone before eventually zonking out, tuning out his sister’s typing on her computer. Though he still tossed and turned as he continued to think about everything that had happened at school and the coffee shop, he eventually let his sister’s words soothe him through the night, lucky that he was born a twin.

[artistmonkee]

[Tighnari’s teaser]

Fluff

This is more of a part one to the other one but I did that one first soooooooooooo. Just pretend you didn’t read that one first!

Introduction-Alhaithams Demo

(If you haven’t read it yet)

_____________________________________________

A man sits at his desk with a quill in hand, writing on the letter in thought.

Dear Master,

I trust this letter finds you well?

His ear twitches as the night caws of birds and bugs echoes through the night outside his hut.

Thank you for your kind offer of an akademiya post but I’m afraid I must decline.

The scene changes to him kneeling on the ground in front of some plants, observing the greenery as the breeze flowed past him. A small boy with the same ears as him pointed excitedly to the ground, making him chuckle,

I have taken up residence in the Avidya Forest, where I work as a Forest Ranger.Not an illustrious position,

A bright blue glowing plant pops up from the ground in front of them, make the boy jump and lose his footing, making him crash to the forest floor while the amused older fox laughed at his son.

But my proximity to the rainforest ecosystem allows me to research it in great detail. Of course, not with a little fun that is.

Suddenly the breeze became harsher, making the duo pause their little fun, a small finch landed on the male's shoulder, making him glance at it as it chirped. The boys ears lowered in worry, a small frown replacing the smile he had merely seconds ago.

The male furrowed his brows as he stood up, turning the other way in alertness as he stood protectively in front of the boy as he observed the area, trying to confirm if his theory was right.

Something is ailing the forest. I’m sure of it… So is Nyx, she could feel it as she walked with me on one of our outings out in the wilderness here.

He gazed out into the horizon, the setting becoming slightly darker as the clouds gathered.

And just as a doctor won’t abandon their patients, I will not abandon the forest.

He tapped his quill on the ink bottle before continuing to write, a small smile appearing on his lips as his eyes softened, a new fondness to him.

You promised me status and reputation,

He gasped in surprise, jolting before looking behind him to see a smiling small boy tugging on his tail impatiently, making him let out a small laugh. He bent down and picked up the small boy and settled him on his lap before continuing to write, the boy gazing at it curiously.

Yet I do not care for these, as you should already know.

Though if you are amenable, please consider sending some researchers to help investigate the strange phenomenon in the forest.

The small boy yawned as his ears lowered, making male smile. He set his quill down and folded the paper to finish packaging later, wrapping his arms around the boy and standing up to take him to bed.

“Come on Amir, let’s get you to bed.”

Amir mumbled in denile of his sleepiness, his green tail swishing back n forth.

His father sighed, tapping the boys back in thought.

“How about this. You can come sleep with Mama and I if you go to bed now.”

The boy instantly perked up and nodded, making the older fox roll his eyes.

“Thought so. Now let’s go, Mama is already in bed waiting for us”

The male blew out the candles in his office, heading towards his room in the hut with the four year old clinging onto him.

Sincerely, your student, Tighnari.

[cheerfulmelancholies]

Mysterious New Member-Chapter 6

After AJ had finished showing her around the Hub, Diana insisted she be the one to move the Camaro. No one was allowed to touch it. Sherman volunteered to show her where the shop was. Settling into the driver's seat, she followed his directions on where to go. She parked it out of the way, locked the doors and set the alarm, eying him as she did so.

"Sorry, but you guys are really freaking me out with your fixation on my car," she said to his offended expression.

"No hard feelings," he replied, though it was clear there were some.

She frowned. "Well, I guess it's pretty late, huh?" She wasn't feeling tired after everything that had transpired, but she wasn't sure what else there was to do. It was too late to test drive her car and they didn't seem to have much else going on either. She fiddled with the chain of her necklace as Sherman nodded.

"Yeah. Here, I'll show you to your room." He stepped into the elevator and she followed, keeping at arm's length. He eyed her attire of jeans and a hoodie. She must have wanted something a little more comfortable than the Shock Suit for the time being. "Do you have any spare clothes?"

"Not on me, but I can get some from back home tomorrow. I'll be fine in these for one night."

Sherman hummed and they walked to the bedrooms in silence. Gesturing at the door to hers, he said, "Here ya go. You should really try to get some rest while you can; we don't know when a Storm Shock will open."

"Gotcha." She feigned a yawn. "I'll see you in the morning, I guess. Night."

"Goodnight."

She walked inside and shut the door behind her. The room was barren, the only items a bed, wall mirror and dresser. A closet was in the far corner. Nothing personal so far. She was pleased to see the door locked itself. She didn't want anyone barging in on her right now; she had so much to think about. Alien worlds, advanced technology, portals to other dimensions and a war between good and evil? It all sounded like fiction to her. And here she thought he was crazy...

Diana sighed and fell onto the bed, the day catching up to her. She took off her shoes and hoodie, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. She had a feeling Sherman would be right and she'd really need the energy come morning. She curled up beneath the covers and tried to fend off the restlessness long enough to fall asleep. Her mind kept churning with theories and questions, and she dozed off in turmoil.

She awoke the next morning to silence; no one had come to get her and no alarms were blaring so she took that as a sign of an easy morning. She stretched, joints cracking, and slipped her shoes back on before leaving the room in just her jeans and gray T-shirt. She wandered down the hall until she heard voices and traced them to the kitchen area. She found most of the team there, bickering about something or another, while some of them made breakfast. The only ones missing were Tezz, Sage and Stanford. They fell silent when she entered.

"Morning," Agura said, trying to dissipate the awkward tension. She finished setting the table.

"Hey..." Diana felt unwanted and was debating leaving now so she could go fetch some stuff from home. AJ stopped her before she could.

"Want some pancakes?" he asked, placing a plate stacked with them on the table. "We've got plain, blueberry and chocolate, plus all the syrup you could possibly need."

She gave a small smile, thankful for the interaction. "Sure, I'll have some blueberry." She found a seat and made her plate, trying not to get too defensive about the others' faces. She couldn't blame them for not trusting her; she'd made it abundantly clear she didn't trust them and hadn't given them much cause to believe in her yet. She tried not to take it personally. It wasn't like she had that much faith in them either.

Agura gave them all a look before she sat down, wordlessly scolding them for being so obvious. Vert had just finished telling them not to push Diana away.

"Did you sleep well?" Vert asked between forkfuls of pancake.

Diana shrugged. "I slept okay. With everything that's happened I can't imagine I'll sleep all that calmly anytime soon."

"You'll get used to it," Agura offered.

"Yeah," Spinner said between a mouthful, words having difficulty with the obstacle, "with all the butt we kick it gets old pretty fast." He swallowed. "You'll get with the flow in no time."

She smirked at his childish manners. "I hope you know I barely understood any of that, but it sounded nice, so thanks." She took another bite.

"It sounded like a doofus trying to speak English," Agura said, shooting him a glare. "We've got plenty of food here, Spin, we don't need you to shoot it across the table."

The elder Cortez gulped down another bite with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

They sat there, eating and talking, and Diana found herself actually having a decent time until one of them asked the dreaded question.

"So," AJ began, not knowing the size of the land mine he was about to set foot on, "what brings you all the way out to our little slice of paradise?"

The others all looked at her, curious smiles in place. Diana set her fork down on her now empty plate and struggled for a response. "I... I don't know, really." She shrugged. "I was just looking for somewhere I could let off a little steam, y'know?"

"Something troubling you back home?" Vert asked, worried she'd neglected her personal life to join and wondering why she would've lied about it.

"No, I mean, yeah. Kind of." She scratched her neck, fingers brushing her chain. "Stuff just got to be a bit much and I wanted to get away, I guess." She cursed herself for sounding unsure. They were watching her, mistrust in their gazes.

"I thought you said you had nothing to worry about."

Diana locked eyes with Vert and hoped she didn't look too suspicious. "It's personal, okay?" she said after several moments. "I just... stuff back home got a little out of hand and I needed time away."

"So you have to go back, right?"

Zoom hadn't said much during breakfast and she was wishing he'd kept quiet. She chewed her lip. "I mean, yeah, eventually. But it's nothing major like you're thinking." Silence fell upon them after that and she found herself having an uncomfortable stare down. These people weren't just some desert lunatics. They were far more dangerous than that and now that she knew what was really going on she found herself almost afraid of them. She swallowed.

"Hey," she began in an attempt to lighten the mood, "y'know, I haven't even sat in my car yet. How about we test out my new ride?" She didn't want to be here anymore, seated at the receiving end of their scrutiny. And Whiplash did look fun, not to mention she could use the practice for when she got sucked into a fight.

Vert pursed his lips but didn't comment on the change in subject. "Yeah, sure. There's a test track out back. C'mon, I'll show you." He stood and motioned for her to follow. The others did as well, save for AJ, who offered to clean up.

A few minutes later saw Diana, Zoom, Vert, the Cortez brothers and Agura outside. The newbie and scout were on the track while the others stayed on the sidelines. Agura for tactical advice, Sherman for maintenance purposes, Vert for supervising and Spinner for 'the show.' The four watched her get ready in Whiplash.

"So, I know I'm new and all but you don't have to go easy one me," she said to Zoom, glad to be out of the stifling environment. She felt right at home behind the wheel. All of the controls were within easy reach and they all made sense to her. She knew where the weapons were. She knew where everything was, somehow. It was an inexplicable feeling she couldn't describe. Her fingers readjusted their grip.

"If you insist," he responded. "Spin, how about a countdown?"

"On your marks," he said with flair, bringing a hand up.

Zoom revved his bike while Diana grinned.

"Get ready..." He paused for dramatic affect. "Go!" He brought his hand down with a chopping motion, watching smoke fly up as the two shot off the line.

"Do you really think this is okay?" Vert asked Agura, trying to keep the Cortez brothers out of the conversation.

"We can't force her to tell us anything, Vert. All we can do is trust her. I know you don't like secrets but, come one, she really doesn't have a reason to tell us about her personal life yet. She barely knows us."

"And we barely know her," he said, frowning.

"Give it time. That's what you said before. You're not gonna second guess yourself, are you?"

"No, I guess that wouldn't be very leadership of me, now would it?" He felt his lips pull up at her reassuring smile.

Diana shifted up another gear as she maintained a comfortable distance from Zoom, hitting the first corner with precision and happy to feel very little body roll. For as wide as the thing was, it was quite maneuverable. She pushed the pedal down farther.

"How you holding up back there?" the scout asked, glancing behind himself.

Diana laughed. "I'm great!" She cut through the inside of the next turn, passenger side wheels brushing the edge of the track, and forced him behind her. "How're you?" She pushed ahead, flinging the car through the turns, testing its limits.

"No way! I refuse to be beaten by a newbie." He twisted the throttle and chased after her.

"She's not half bad," Sherman commented, watching the blue blur dart around each corner.

"Actually," came Agura, "she's a natural." Diana clearly had experience on the track if the way she kept Zoom in her rearview was anything to go by. Every time he tried to make a move, she'd block him or speed up. Whiplash seemed well-adapted for racing as well; the car kept itself planted in the turns and rocketed away in the straights. Given how it was powered by the Tangler's chip, its versatility shouldn't have come as much of a surprise.

Diana watched the scout tuck himself into his bike, no doubt trying to gain a little extra speed. She smiled as they whizzed past the others for the second time. This was so much better than she expected. She couldn't be bothered to wonder how she instinctively knew how to drive the car, she just kept going.

Zoom tried to squeeze by her as they veered left around another corner, wheels hugging the inside line and knee nearly scraping ground. He saw the way she leaned the car closer in an effort to force him back and he yanked the throttle, forced the front up and opened his blades to flip directly over her, helmet skimming the roof. He landed on her right and kept the throttle wide open, intending to take the inside of the next corner and gain some distance. He grit his teeth as they stayed neck and neck, until he began pulling ahead. Just a little more to go, he could do this.

Diana kept the pedal down, ignoring the rapidly approaching corner. She tightened her grip on the wheel and focused on catching back up.

Spinner kept all commentary to himself as the four of them watched the once friendly training exercise turn into an all-or-nothing race. Even Vert was invested. The last corner was right in front of them yet they didn't slow down. He feared Sherman might actually be needed soon.

Diana glanced ahead and cursed, down-shifting as quickly as she could and swinging the car into the turn. She felt the rear pull out and tried to force it back, losing speed in the process.

At the same time as Whiplash, Zoom slammed the brakes and sent the Chopper round the bend, tires shrieking. The double-wheeled design gave him less trouble than Diana and he made it across the line roughly a second sooner than she did.

They stopped several feet down the track, still shaking from the excitement. The others jogged towards them.

"I thought you said you just wanted to practice," Agura said as she reached Whiplash. She watched Diana get out with a bemused expression. The girl looked sheepish.

"Well, now I know how fast not to take a corner," she responded, fiddling with some hair.

Zoom laughed. "I know not to get on your bad side in a race. That was intense."

"Where'd you learn to drive like that?"

Diana looked at Sherman with a grin. "Practice makes perfect. Dad didn't give me that Camaro for nothing, you know. I learned from the best."

"Still, that was amazing. I don't think you'll have too much trouble in the Zones, that's for sure," said the elder Cortez.

Diana chuckled. "Let's hope not," she said with a hint of nervousness. She looked to Vert. He hadn't said a word.

"You'll do fine with us," he said, trying to trust Agura's words. "How about another couple of laps? You need to be comfortable behind the wheel."

Diana nodded. "I could run laps in this thing all day."

They spent a couple of hours out there, Diana doing time trials and combat exercises. Stanford hauled himself on the track too after getting a late breakfast and raced her a few times before they headed back in. Several minutes later saw Sage tell them to suit up and meet her in the Hub to inform them of a new mission.

"I have located a Re-Spawn Chamber," she said when they were all together. "Destroying it would be a devastating blow to Krytus."

"What's a Re-Spawn Chamber?" Diana questioned, feeling a nervous buzz kick in. Despite the lecture she'd received from the Sentient, there were still some things she didn't quite understand.

"It's like a checkpoint for Krytus and his Reds," Spinner explained. "If we blow it up and take one of them out, they won't be able to come back and it'll be one less bad guy to worry about."

"It's also the perfect first mission for you," Vert added, hopping into the Saber. "Get ready. It's you, me, Sherman and Spinner, Zoom and Tezz."

Diana quirked a brow at the name and turned to see the scientist walking over to his vehicle. She'd forgotten he'd even existed.

"You ready for this?" Zoom asked from his bike.

Diana grinned. "I was born ready." She was feeling jittery from the excitement. Now was the time to see firsthand what these Battle Zones were like and prove she could be trusted. She jogged over to Whiplash and followed them out into the desert.

Chapter 7: here

Chapter 5: here

[krizaland]

Self Control Chapter 3

LMK MK x OC / Wukong x Self insert

Here’s chapter 3

First Previous

Be warned: There’s kissing ahead!

Later that night, MK plopped into bed with a sigh of relief.

“Phew! Maybe now I can get some sleep for once.”

With an exhausted yawn, MK feel into the comforting arms of sleep.

MK awoke to a familiar flower before him.

PAF!

With a puff of pink of pink smoke, Hua Ying emerged from the flower.

Before MK could react, Hua Ying cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss.

MK’s face burned pink as his heart practically leapt out of his chest.

POP!

MK went back into his monkey form.

Without thinking, MK deepened this kiss.

He grabbed Hua Ying’s face and let out a growly moan against her lips.

Eventually the two parted for air.

“You have no idea how badly I wanted to do that.” MK panted, his eyes half-lidded

“I’ve been craving your kiss too, my love! And yet I still crave more!” Hua Ying declared dramatically.

MK didn’t need to be told twice!

He leaned in for another kiss only for Hua Ying to stop him.

“I’m sorry but I’m a private person. Let’s continue this at your place, hm?” Hua Ying purred as she pressed a finger to his lips.

“My place?” MK parroted, his voice muffled by her finger.

Hua Ying slipped out of MK’s arms and made her way back to the flower.

“Wait! Where are you going?!” MK yelped as he ran after her.

Hua Ying looked over her shoulder, a mischievous glint twinkling in her eyes.

“If you want me, you’ll have to prove yourself. Catch me and I’m yours.”

And with that, Hua Ying climbed back into the flower.

“Wait! Come back!”

MK cried out after her but he was too late.

The flower had already disappeared in another puff of pink smoke.

MK let out a yelp as he sprung awake.

He went to put a hand on his chest only to be met with a monkey paw!

MK let out a panicked shriek and clamped his eyes shut.

“I’m strong enough to get through this! I’m strong enough to get through this!”

MK chanted over and over again until he finally managed to return to normal.

MK opened his eyes and looked down at his hands.

“Phew! That was way too close! I gotta keep myself under control!” MK sighed as he wiped away a few beads of sweat.

BREEP! BREEP! BREEP!

MK nearly jumped through the ceiling as his alarm clock went off.

He let out a sigh of relief as he turned off the alarm.

For once, MK was actually happy he had to go to work.

Hopefully delivering noodles would be the perfect distraction from the instincts clawing at his mind.

As the day went on, MK’s theory was proven correct!

He had been working so hard he didn’t even have time to think about any mystic monkey business.

Just one more delivery and his day would be done!

MK found himself approaching a fancy trailer with an all too familiar flower pattern.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

MK cheerfully knocked on the door.

“Just a second!”

MK’s face paled.

That sounded an awful lot like Hua Ying

“No! It can’t be her! I’m just imagining it.” MK insisted as he shook away his anxiety.

The moment the door opened, MK’s fears were confirmed.

There stood Hua Ying.

Despite being dressed in a casual crop top and shorts, she just as beautiful as she was last night.

MK let out a startled yelp and almost dropped the noodles.

“Hua Ying…” Was all MK could whimper out.

Hua Ying blinked in shock before clearing her throat.

“Y-yeah! It’s really me, the one and only, Hua Ying! You’re MK the Monkie Kid, right?”

MK felt his face heat up and his heart start to pound.

“No! No! No! Not now! Not now! C’mon! Stay in control!” MK screamed internally as he started to shake.

“H-here… Noodles…” Was all MK could muster as he shakily held out the bag.

“Hey, I know I’m famous but you don’t have to be so nervous. Heck, if anything, I’m the one that should be starstruck! I wasn’t expecting the legendary Monkie Kid to be delivering my noodles today!”Hua Ying giggled as she took the bag.

Hua Ying’s hand gently brushed against MK’s as she took her order, pushing him over the edge.

POP!

MK became a monkey once more.

Fortunately, Hua Ying had turned around and didn’t notice MK’s transformation.

However that didn’t stop MK from freaking out.

He felt his heart thump in his chest as his tail swished excitedly.

Just as he was about to grab Hua Ying, MK managed to slap some sense into himself.

“No! I’m strong enough to get through this! I’m strong enough to-”

“Are you ok- Oh..”

Hua Ying turned around only to be met with a very stressed monkey MK.

MK let out a scream and practically jumped out of his fur.

“I’M SO SORRY! I’M SO SORRY! I- I CAN EXPLAIN! I-”

“Woah! Hey! Chill out! You don’t have to explain anything to me.” Hua Ying reassured as she put her hands up defensively.

MK stared at her in disbelief.

“I-I don’t?”

“Nope! I have it all figured out.” Hua Ying giggled as she tapped her temple.

MK felt like he was hit by a truck.

“YOU FIGURED IT OUT?!”

Hua Ying nodded.

“That’s right! I figured out why they call you the Monkie Kid!”

MK blinked in confusion.

“Wha-”

“Yeah! You’re called the Monkie Kid cause you’re part monkey! Honestly, that’s actually really cool!” Hua Ying chirped excitedly.

“You think I’m…cool?”

MK’s eyes lit up as a dopey grin spread across his face.

He practically melted as his tail swished excitedly.

“Heck yeah I do! You’re literally a superhero! It doesn’t get any cooler than that! You like go around fighting monsters and-” -Hua Ying immediately cleared her throat and looked down at her feet- “-Sorry! I probably sound like super crazy right now don’t I?”

MK let out an excited hoot and charged straight for Hua Ying!

Next

[tartigglez]

"perhaps you should test the theory?" (pt.2)

kaeya x gn!reader

find pt1 here

genre: fluff

word count: about 300

tags: soft hours, thats kinda it.

tw/cw: suggestive but no smut (its kaeya what's to be expected?). reader is chill w/ being kissed (?)

a/n: pt2 finally. sorry this is trash, i was watching youtube videos of some lady making bento boxes in a split screen ngl. also idk how to write people kissing if you can't tell. also, please, please, if you see this, please, send me an ask, please, idk what to write, please, asks, now, please.

his kiss was much more gentle than you ever would’ve expected at first, then getting rougher, and rougher, like a man starved. his lips were cold, yet soft, and he seemed to never want to stop, not that you were complaining… 

eventually, he brought his actions to a pause, whispering in your ear

“you okay?”

you nodded slightly as he looks in your eyes, with the most love you’ve ever witnessed anyone hold for anyone else. however, something seems askew, the rest of his face seems stern.

“words” 

“yes, yes i'm okay, more than okay”

“good”

he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, and another, and another, before going back to his previous position on the bed, laying on his back, before turning to his side as you did the same. you now faced each other, as something more than friends, and nothing had ever felt so right. 

“archons-” he sighed “you have no idea how long i've been waiting for this, seriously, what took ya so long?”

letting out a light giggle you playfully slapped his chest 

“It takes two to tango, y’know?”

“I’m pulling your ear, y/n”

“shush, mister-right-all-the-time”

“make me” he raised an eyebrow at you. ever the flirter, it seems, even after his flirting has already succeeded. 

“fine.” you announced, moving your lips to his, making contact once again, just for a moment.

after pulling away, he smirks at you. 

“you're adorable, y’know that?”

“am not”

“are too”

as opposed to fighting any longer, you move closer to him, burying your head in his chest, entangling your legs with his as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“stay like this, please”

“i’ll stay, darling, i’ll stay”

[angelasscribbles]

Eidolon Chapter 3: Visitation

Series: Eidolon

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Liam x Ghost

Rating: MA, NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Warnings: HORROR, LEMONS

Word Count: 1,730

Song Inspiration: Sex with a Ghost by Teddy Hyde

A/N: So, I think those who speculated the ghost might be Eleanor can put that theory to rest now. It is not.

My other stuff: Master List.

Liam stood next to Drake looking down at the dead body of the construction foreman. Just like Neville, there were no visible signs of trauma or obvious cause of death.

“I’m not saying Max is right, but this is starting to feel connected.” Liam said.

“Not you too.” Drake scoffed, “This man was in his sixties, overweight and a smoker. He probably had a heart attack or a stroke. I know it’s weird that it happened the day after Neville but it’s just a coincidence. And of course it happened in here, he probably stayed behind to work late.”

“Maybe.” Liam said doubtfully, “Even you admitted it was creepy in here.”

“It was.” Drake replied glancing around, “But it seems better now.”

The windows had been cleaned, electric light had been run in, the floors were drier and the wall holding the body had been demolished, all things that could account for improving the overall vibe of the room. But Liam was convinced it was something else. The absence of something.

Where had she gone?

Liam’s eyes were draw to the hallway outside the throne room door. He swore something moved past the door. It was nothing he saw or heard or could explain. It was more like something he felt.

The knowledge that he should be afraid flashed through his mind, but just as obvious was the fact that he wasn’t.

Drake wasn’t afraid because he didn’t believe there was anything to be afraid of. Liam believed there was something going on, something had been awakened in the ancient throne room, but he wasn’t afraid.

Max was terrified. So terrified, he’d already left the palace for Ramsford. Liam absolutely believed there was something going on, no, he didn’t believe it, he knew it! He felt it in his bones, but just as surely as he knew that he also knew that he wasn’t in any danger.

The body was removed for autopsy and the renovations continued.

Drake followed Liam back to his office to go over what they knew so far. Which was nothing.

“Still waiting on the autopsy results for Neville.” Drake told him.

“Any word about the skeleton?” Liam asked.

Drake shook his head, “Not yet.”

“Okay, then. Keep me informed.”

“Absolutely.”

That night, Drake showed up at Liam’s door.

“What is it?” Liam asked, “Is there any news yet?”

“No,” Drake responded, “I just wanted to check on you. I know you’ve been having a hard time sleeping. Thought maybe you could use a little company before bed, so I stopped by for a drink.”

Liam grinned, “That sounds great, come on it.”

They sat out on the balcony, drinks in hand, watching the stars. Talk turned to Liam’s new royal duties, and Drake bashed Leo, as he often did during these talks, “I’m just saying, Li, none of this bullshit should have been yours!”

“If not me, then who?” Liam asked.

“Leo!” Drake answered, “Literally, Leo!”

“It’s ok,” Liam assured him, “At least I have you and Max and Tariq and Liv. I’m going to make you guys my small council.”

“Your what?”

“Small council, basically my closest advisors. Because I trust you.”

“Huh.” Drake responded, “You know we’ll always have your back, but what about a wife? Constantine wants you to have a social season already?”

“He does.”

“Seems rushed.”

“Eh.” Liam shrugged, “As long as they don’t try to force Madeleine on me.”

Drake laughed, “Damn. I thought I was the only one that couldn’t stand her.”

“It’s not her, personally.” Liam said slowly as he lifted his drink to his lips, “But…she’s been with my brother!” He shuddered.

“Yeah, ew, that’s just…. Ew.” Drake agreed, “Then who?”

“I….don’t know.” There was no one at court that he had any type of romantic feelings for but the pool of candidates considered acceptable by the royal council was limited.

Drake sighed, “I don’t envy you. I am never getting married!”

“Never say never, Drake.”

“Never!”

Liam chuckled, “Ok, if you say so.”

“I say so.”

Liam looked at his watch, then stretched, “Well, it’s getting late. I should at least try to get some sleep. Thanks for stopping by. We don’t do this enough.”

Both men stood and Liam followed Drake as he made his way to the door, stopping halfway there, “Oh, yeah, Liv got called away to Lythikos on business, but she left you this.”

Drake handed Liam a green bottle with no label. The top had a dropper built into it. “She said to put a dropperful of this in your bourbon before bed, to help with your insomnia.”

“Thanks.” Liam said, palming the small glass bottle in his hand with a fake smile.

He had no intention of taking it. He couldn’t deny that it helped him sleep, but it also made his sleep dreamless, and he didn’t like it. She didn’t like it. He wanted to be awake and alert if he heard her again.

He swore he’d heard his named called in the throne room that first day, and again the same night that Neville had died. If those things were connected, as Max suspected, he should be afraid.

She said it wasn’t her fault.

Drake left and Liam stripped down to his birthday suit. He sat the bottle on the nightstand, unopened, and crawled under the crisp, white sheets.

He tossed and turned, occasionally stilling as he strained to hear the voice again. It didn’t come. Nothing called his name. Finally, he dropped into a fitful sleep.

He dreamed of the gardens and a beautiful woman. He dreamed of witches and spells and murder. He twitched and moaned in his sleep. Then the dreams faded to black, and he heard a voice. It was her, the same voice he’d heard before.

He rolled over in his sleep, twisting in the sheets as something blocked the hallway light filtering in under his bedroom door. There was a soft click then a creak as the door opened just enough for a shadow to spill through the crack.

He was dreaming of the woman again, but this time she wasn’t in the gardens, this time she was in his room with him. She was beautiful, radiant and she smiled as she called his name.

“Liam…”

He moaned again, shifting his position in the bed as his erection sprang to life. The scent of jasmine and lavender washed over him as the sheet was slowly pulled from his body.

A faint wisp of a draft ghosted across his body, and he shivered. Velvet hands glided gently over his body. Lips, soft and plump touched his skin. His moans took on a different quality as his body writhed under the sensations that had been ignited in him.

Sweat broke out on his brow as her warmth enveloped him, driving out the chill the draft had brought. She was all around him; he could feel her everywhere. He thrust his hips up, his hands reaching out to hold nothing. He could feel her touch on him, but his hands could not make purchase. Every swipe of his arms met empty air.

He felt hot breath against his neck and ear as she murmured his name again. He whimpered out loud in his sleep, arching his body toward her.

“Please.” It fell from his lips like a prayer.

His cock was throbbing, his body was on fire, his desperation to touch her reaching a fevered pitch when he felt her on top of him. Her touch became more solid, he could feel her weight pressing into him, feel her impale herself on him, feel her clenching around him as his hands finally made contact, fingers sinking into her hips as he propelled himself up into her frenetically.  

He exploded into her as a strangled cry escaped his lips. His body collapsed against the mattress, limp, weak, his chest heaving, breath heavy, dick still pulsing.

He gasped for air as the corporealness of her faded, enveloping him in a cool mist that descended on and surrounded him, pulling the sexual energy right out of the air, following the source back to his body, reaching inside and draining his very life force from him.

He tried to speak, he tried to move, but he could do neither thing. He could do nothing but lay there while she drank him down, sucking the energy out of him, pulling at his aura, imbibing his essence.

It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

He gave in to it.

He felt himself slipping into blackness.

There was her, then there was nothing.

He jerked awake, ice cold and shaking, skin clammy, covered in goosebumps. He sat bolt upright in the bed, frantically casting his glance around the room. There was no one there.

He glanced down at the stickiness coating his skin, proof of what had happened. His sheet, normally folded tightly and tucked under the corners of his mattress, was carelessly pooled in a heap on the floor.

He clicked the bedside lamp on and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. He stood and the door caught his eye. It was ajar and he was certain it had been shut and locked before he went to bed.

He made his way to the door, stuck his head out into the hall, and looked left and right. Nothing.

He shut the door and trudged into the bathroom to clean himself up. After he was done with that, he splashed water on his face. He stared at himself in the mirror. Was he paler? There were faint dark circles under his eyes. He dried his face and tossed the towel on the counter as he exited the bathroom.

He picked the sheet up off the floor and crawled back into the bed. He pulled the comforter up from the bottom, the room much colder than it had been when he’d gone to sleep.

His eyes fell on the bottle sitting on the bedside table. He drew a stopper full and swallowed the bitter liquid straight. He drew himself into the fetal position under his comforter as chills shook his body. Maybe he was coming down with a cold, he told himself. It was just a dream, right? No one had been in his room.

He drifted into a dreamless sleep and stayed that way for the rest of the night.