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lady-of-tearshed · 1 month

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The Monster Bed

Cassian x Reader

Summary: You're enjoying your mate's presence after he just came back from a two days mission with Azriel, until an intruder makes its way into the bed.

Warnings: Spiders? Spiders.

A/N: This is chaos, pure chaos. But hey, it's Cassian. We wouldn't expect less from our dramatic General now, would we? 😌💕

The nights were starting to get cooler in Velaris at the approach of Solstice. You were tucked tightly in bed, trying to keep your body warm without your favorite bat boy.

You had managed to fall into a light sleep after a while, until you heard familiar footsteps quietly making their way to the connected bathroom of your chamber. You smile through your sleep at the general failed attempt to be discreet with his big-ass boots reaching his destination. The distant sound of the shower running made you lull back into your slumber.

You purr when you feel the mattress shift behind your back, and feel a strong pair of arms wrapping around your body, heating it up instantly. You feel your mate gently kissing the back of your neck, his large hands traveling on your skin to caress the curves of your body. “Mh… Welcome home, General…” You grin and slowly turn your head to look at him through half opened eyes. You scan his face and body quickly, making sure he hadn't been too injured in his recent mission. He kisses your lips and groans in content at the feeling of you in his arms, enjoying the feeling of finally getting home, in their bed, with you laying at his side.

Him and Azriel had been away on a mission for only two days. Those two days, he had slept on a mat without anyone to cuddle, since Az strictly refused to act as his body pillow. Cassian had missed you so much that these two days had felt like years- no, decades to him. “Did you miss me, princess?” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully and trails a path of kisses on her neck, taking a big sniff of her sweet vanilla scent. Cassian loved your scent so much that he could bath himself in without any shame about his brother teasing.

Your mate's usual playful and flirty behavior makes a tired chuckle fall from your lips. You caress his hair gently, too tired to scold him on the fact that he should have dried them before getting into bed, especially with the cold weather that pierced through the wall of the House of the Wind. “Mh… I did. It felt weird to fall asleep without anyone snatching the sheets off of me in their sleep...”

He giggles against your neck at your teasing response and gently starts nipping at the skin of your neck when the scent of your arousal starts to fill the bedroom. He moved his kisses to your collarbone, making you roll on your back with the palm of his hand. You bury your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, but as he rolls you on your back, something cold brushes against your leg. Something cold and… fuzzy. Cassian halts everything he was doing when he feels you suddenly flinch, and he frowns, worried. He lifts his face off your neck to look into your eyes and ask softly. “You're okay, princess?” You try to move your leg slightly, checking if maybe you had imagined that weird feeling. But the thing seemed to climb up your leg at the movement. You squeak and stand up straight on the bed, Cassian doing the same without even knowing why he was panicking too.

“What?! WHAT?!” Cassian eyes are wide as he's up on the bed, holding you close to him and watching the duvet as if a monster was about to come from underneath it. The two of you were screaming like idiots, standing up on the bed, Cassian holding you close without even knowing what they were scared of. The door of your bedroom slams open as the both of you are still screaming and squealing in panic. “What the fuck is happening?! Are you naked?!” Azriel asks from the bedroom door, his eyes covered as his shadows rush to the bed and tangle with the sheets to figure out what was happening.

“NO! SOMETHING TOUCHED MY LEG!” Cassian screams even louder, not a manly scream, a high-pitched squeal. “IT’S BRYAXIS!” “SHUT UP CASS! IT FELT LIKE A SPIDER.” You say as you jump into your mate’s arms, making him almost lose his balance and fall off the mattress. Az opens his eyes and scans the room, but his shadows are quick to report the bed intruder. He snickers and pulls off a pillow from under the duvet. He brushes the cold zipper of the pillow against your leg, and you shiver, cheeks reddening.

“Well, guess I found the intruder… My job’s done now. Good night.” Azriel snickers as he heads out of the bedroom quietly. You shyly move down from Cassian's arms, and you both lay back in bed, in silence. An awkward lapse of time passes as the both of you stare at the ceiling, your faces burning red in shame to have disturbed the shadow singer for something as stupid as a pillow zipper brushing against your leg. “No more zippers in the bed.” He finally breaks the silence and turns around to spoon you close to him, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. You simply nod your head, wiggling closer to him. “Yeah…”

He kisses the top of your head and strokes your arm as he starts to drift to sleep. He hears you chuckle, so he groans. “What.” “You thought it was Bryaxis? Seriously, Cass?” He nuzzles his nose into the back of your neck and growls in annoyance. “Shut up… sleep.” You smile and bite your lip, trying not to burst into laughter about how scared the General was of Bryaxis… “Alright, good night Cass, love you.” He smiles and whispers, his voice full of love. “Love you too princess…”

☆•☆•☆•☆

Bryaxis had almost peed on himself from laughing too much when you told him about you and your mate's eventful night the next morning. Bryaxis's ego was inflating when you told him how scared the General still was of the beast even after all these years.

A/N (again lol): I forgot to mention: Based on true events... 🫣

#acotar #fiction #fluff #light angst #my fic #acosaf #x reader #acotar fandom #cassian x y/n #x y/n #cassian x you #cassian acotar #cassian acomaf #cassian #cassian x reader #general cassian #writing #bryaxis

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its-stimsca · 7 months

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Stimtober day 18

Stimboard of Dr Clef from the Scp foundation

🔫 👁️ 🔫

👁️ 🔫 👁️

🔫 👁️ 🔫

ID below cut

[Image ID:

Gif 1: A hand painting a green ukelele with white flowers.

Gif 2: A hand in front of a canopy of ferns, covered in three brown moths. The moths have eye patterns on them, and each one is about the size of a palm. The hand rotates, showing the moths off.

Gif 3: A green snake with a mottled, black pattern hangs on a vine. It’s head moves to the side as it looks around.

Gif 4: A shot of legs wearing brown pants and black, dusty boots. One of the boots is tapping the ground, as if waiting for something. The ground they stand on is gravel slightly overgrown with moss.

Gif 5: An animated gif of Dr Clef from the SCP Foundation, drawn in a black and white pixel-art style. He has a wide brimmed hat, and shaggy, short hair, with bangs that cast a shadow over his eyes. He has a lab coat draped over his shoulders, and a black shirt with a tie. A shotgun is slung over his right shoulder, and a name tag is pinned to his coat that has a music signature written on it, an alto clef. He’s smiling at the camera with teeth sharper than normal, his hands behind his back.

Gif 6: A brown cowboy hat rotates on a pedestal.

Gif 7: A scientist walks past in a white lab coat with a hand in their pocket. They wear a navy tie and pants, with a light blue shirt.

Gif 8: A slo-mo of a shotgun being fired. The shells eject with a brief burst of flame.

Gif 9: A jumping spider crawls onto the lens of a pair of glasses. Jumping spiders are small, about the size of a fingernail. They’re very fuzzy, with thick legs, big mouth parts, and very small eyes that sit on top of their head. They look much friendlier than regular spiders, since they’re fuzzy, small, and have soft mouth parts instead of pointy ones. Can you tell I’m biased I like these little guys!!!!

End ID.]

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firebreathingpandas · 6 months

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I made what webby might look like in her teenage form. I tried to make her similar her brother’s designs by staying mostly human looking. I’m not super skilled at character design and art but I tried my best. We don’t have a lot of info on webby so I just based her off a spider’s and their webs.

My design choices and their reasoning:

-The hair is white and tied up in a bun to try and resemble a spider’s abdomen.

-backpack with long straps to also look like a spider’s abdomen.

-The striped shirt and skirt/short are to resemble a web.

-Jacket tied around her waist to make the sleeves resemble extra arms.

-glasses to hide her eyes and/or make them bigger and rounder to look more like a bug.

-boots that are fuzzy on the inside to look kinda like spider legs.

- wears fingerless gloves cuz they looked good

#lords in black #webby #npmd #art #digital art #starkid npmd #npmd fanart #webby hatchetfield #webby human design!

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mxmollusca · 2 months

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fic first lines

post the first line from the last 10 fics you posted (and are there any patterns?) - I got tagged by both @epersonae and @scarrletmoon

I don't have 10 fics for OFMD because I am a slow-af writer, so hopefully my measly 7 will suffice.

An Arm and a Leg

(My first fic for this fandom, building my brand early with some good ol' fashioned magical realism with tentacles.)

Stede Bonnet felt decidedly unwell.

In Favor With Their Stars

(The story opens with a series of computer screens showing the computer processes of a spaceship computer, who also happens to be one of the main characters.)

BONNET INDUSTRIES - DEEP EUROPA MISSION

Interplanetary Transport Ship/REVENGE

Shipboard AI SYNTHETIC TRANSPORT ENTITY/DEEP EUROPA (STE/DE)

(Prose)

“Good morning, Edward.”

There's a Monster at the End of This Book

(surprise Vianton!)

Anton sat on the red velvet sofa, jogger-clad knees pressed together, a temporary resting place for nervous fingers that drummed impatiently.

The Sticking Place

(Sequel to An Arm and a Leg, starting with some journal entries.)

Personal Diary of Stede Bonnet

June 10th, 1718

It’s been three days since the onset of my new affliction, and I am pleasantly surprised to find the crew relatively unfazed by the news!

The Ship of Theseus

(An audio/visual multimedia project written by me, with sound support and editing from @nordarknessdimsthesky and @emi--rose. The entirety of this piece is written from the computer's POV.)

>>2063-02-06 01:35:41

>>STE/DE CMD

INITIATE VIRTUAL MACHINE

SELECT BOOT IMAGE

INITIATE BOOT FROM IMAGE

OPTIMIZE KERNEL

SELECT WAYBACK MACHINE WEB 2.0 CLONE

RENDER INSTANCE

INSTANCE RENDERED

Wave Hello to the Void

(This story was cowritten with @zacharybosch and has art from @eefaevie. There is a lot of multimedia in this story, and it opens with a news article, followed by a video transcript, followed by prose.)

(News clipping)

Green Bank Register - 10/03/2023

Mothman sets fire to dumpster

By LUCIUS SPRIGGS

GREEN BANK, WV - Today marks one week since the first sighting of a large, unidentified winged creature in the Green Bank area.

(YouTube Transcript)

The Beltsville Goatman: A Monsterlover's Exclusive - 09/28/2023

STEDE BONNET, a blonde man in his mid-40s, stands in front of a huge, white RV with the words “MONSTERLOVERS” emblazoned across the side parked in front of a large, empty field.

(Prose)

Stede Bonnet bounds down the steps of his Entegra RV, cellphone in hand, his fuzzy teal Monsterlovers-branded fleece fully zipped in defense of the October morning chill.

Works for Spiders

(This story is written from the POV of the surly house spider who lives in Stede and Ed's "inn".)

She is roused by distant vibrations, a rhythmic thumping reverberating through floorboards and beams and into the strands of her web to tickle against the fine black hairs lining her long legs.

---

Patterns? Perhaps I am allergic to consistency. I tend to be motivated by the novel. I'm here to fuck around and find out. I like to experiment with form and presentation. All I can promise is that it's only going to get weirder from here.

@oatmilktruther @petrichorca @veeagainsttheday @emi--rose @ghostalservice whatchu got

#tag game #fanfiction #ofmd fanfic #vianton fanfic #my fanfic

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somer-writes · 4 months

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Oh nevermind ignore that previous ask, just read the post on your blog <3

im sorry for my indecisiveness ;-; plz enjoy some snippets from the chapter as penance

_______________________

Time nodded softly, wrapping Malon in his arms. He held her tightly, resting his head on top of hers. Malon was always the optimist, always wanting to believe people would do good and do things right. Her heart was too big, she let herself get hurt too easily. Time’s brow knit. He’d taught them a lesson once. He’d do it again.

“I know what you’re thinkin’,” Malon said, a shuddered laugh leaving her. “Don’t make things worse. Poor critter’s already ‘side ‘imself.”

Time shook his head, pressing his nose into his wife’s hair. “Did they put their hands on you?” he asked, voice brisk.

If they dared to lay so much as a finger on Malon, he’d have the whole town leveled within the hour.

She shook her head. “No. I’m fine, he’s fine, we’re–” Malon sighed. “Don’t make things worse even though I wanna.”

“Fine,” Time conceded. “But if they come looking for trouble, they’ll find it.”

Malon kissed his cheek. “I know,” she said with a sigh. “Thank you.”

“Where is the little scrub anyway?” Time asked, realizing Twilight hadn’t followed Malon inside.

Malon shook her head. “He’s upset. Reckon he’s in the barn. I tell ‘im to keep out the woods ‘til we know what’s goin’ on with ‘em monsters.” Malon fixed her face, wiping her tears on her fingers. “You send a letter to the princess?” she asked with a sniffle.

Time nodded, running the cold tap for Malon. He held her hair back, idly brushing through her soft curls with his fingers as she splashed her tear stained face. He wanted to hold her and never let her go just then.

_____________________________

They asked if he could spell his name. They asked if he knew how to properly address guards. Still feeling a slight sting in his cheek, Twilight had been soundly informed that with his middle finger was not the answer to that question.

He tried not to let his temper get the better of him or his pride. Rusl always said if the Hylians make life difficult, it’s easiest to just keel over and play the perfect citizen. But in his experience, the guards took advantage of even that and if Twilight went down either way, he’d go down with his dignity.

_______________________________

A kitten brushed up along his knuckles. Twilight smiled, watching the little thing toddle around. It chased a spider scuttling across the dry dirt, pointed tail straight up as it led with its head. Another kitten climbed over one of the boy’s boots and a third scaled him up the leg and back and nestled into the crook of his shoulder. Nearby, a pretty fluffy cat groomed as the kittens played.

Twilight glanced over when the backdoor opened. Malon beat out a rug over the railing with such ferocity he pitied the decoration.

The boy stood, gently removing kittens from his person, somehow forgetting to set down the third so the squirmy fuzzy thing wriggled in his hand. The cats chased after Twilight, looking for the fresh milk he liked to sneak them.

#somer writes #tbh some of this will probably get recycled into later chapters #but enjoy some time/malon fluff and a little bit of twi angst and also twi and his cats #somer answers #ty for bearing with me as i work on how to get this au on the page

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ronearoundblindly · 2 years

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Autumn Is Healing (Oct 31st)

Flufftober Day Thirty-One--A Sweet Treat

drabble for steve rogers x super soldier!reader (see previous or series)

Warnings: they are sooooo awkward and soooo fluffy! Vague illusions to Hydra crap and insecure!reader for a bit. WC 2.5k (oops)

“OW!”

The shout echos in the hallway, rippling in tandem with thumping music from the party. This is already not going the way you planned.

“I think you broke my nose,” Peter Parker whines.

“I’m sorry,” you yell back, still alarmed with the hair on the back of your head standing up. It was a reflex, and your reflexes hurt people. “You scared me, and I just…”

Bucky examines Peter’s nose, but the kid fights him, tears streaming down his painted face. Your punch has smeared one black circle in the middle of eight, including Pete’s two very real, very watering eyes.

Steve rounds the corner with a wig and wide eyes. He heard. Of course, he heard.

“What’s going on?” He takes stunted strides forward in tight, brown leather pants. You notice his gaze slip over you before returning to Bucky.

“She hit me.” Peter points dramatically.

You, in turn, point to one of many fuzzy appendages dangling off the boy. “He put those things on me.”

“They’re legs, Aut!” Pete moves his hands to yell back. “I’m Shelob. It’s a spider. They have legs.”

Bucky shrugs at Steve. “He’s okay. He’s just an idiot.”

“Miste—Sargent Barnes, sir, I don’t wanna bleed on your cat.”

“She’s fine. As is your nose, Parker.” Bucky adjusts Alpine in his arms again, grumbling, “that’ll teach you not to sneak up on super soldiers though.”

Peter can’t help but wipe away more tears, further ruining his makeup, and you feel horrible.

“I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t hear you. I—I was distracted. I—“

Steve immediately looks at you. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t mean to—he just caught me off guard—“

“What’s your on guard look like,” Peter screeches.

“You know darn well what—“ Steve stops himself, shoulders sagging like a disappointed parent. “Nevermind, let’s get you cleaned up.” He makes to grab a leg before checking to figure out which is the kid’s real arm.

“Nah, I got him. I’ll give Alpine a treat and some water while we fix ‘im up.” Bucky rubs between her ears while jutting his elbow past Peter. “Go on. Into the kitchen with ya.”

Steve leans over to you while they leave. “What is Buck supposed to be?” He stares at the back of his friend’s light grey, boxy suit with a mandarin collar and the slicked back hair. He no doubt saw the gnarly, fake scar across Bucky’s eye the instant he walked in, too.

“Yelena’s idea. Actually, it started with my costume—“ you gesture down and Steve’s eyes follow “—except I didn’t buy it as a costume. I just liked this dress and thought it looked nice.”

“That’s a dress?” He looks you up and down, cheeks flushed by the time his focus is back on your face. “I’m about to go get you a shirt again.”

You shove at his arm.“Not funny. It is, okay. It’s just—“

“Invisible?”

“—sheer. It’s crochet,” you defend. “It was a style back when I was a kid, and I’m finally old enough to…” you clear your throat “…at least I think I’m…”

You weren’t planning to wear nothing but a matching bra and hot pants under it. It was just something cool to layer over a tank and maxi skirt until Yelena practically tossed go-go boots at you and bought bright, colorful eyeshadow like it was her job.

“So you and Buck are…” Steve prods.

You’d forgotten what the question was. What his question was. You’ve got so many others of your own bouncing around your head and this big, styled hair now.

“He’s a character named Doctor Evil, and I’m Felicity Shagwell.”

Steve’s brows shoot up over a grimace.

“A secret agent from the sixties.” You hold up your hands, index fingers together like a gun, and pose.

He stands there completely baffled, an tinge of pink crawling up his skin, and you think he hates it.

“It’s a movie,” you continue, falling back into a nervous stance in your very tall boots. “Except, Bucky’s character is bald and he refused to wear the cap.”

“Smart man,” Steve grumbles, itching his hairline.

“Who are you? You look…uh…”

Steve’s wearing a long, blonde wig, and you might have guessed he was Thor, but somehow the flouncy cuffed shirt isn’t quite right. Too few buttons are done up through the big ruffles of his top, so a huge portion of his chest is bare. You have to cover your mouth to hide a wanton smile.

“Fabio,” he sighs.

Even though you don’t know who that is, you cackle at his embarrassment. He looks good but so very uncomfortable.

“In my defense, I didn’t know. Yelena only said she knew of a tall blond that I could dress as and that the costume would be simple.”

She wasn’t technically wrong; it’s just shoes, pants, a top, and something on his head—far less complicated than his tact suit, in fact—but she managed the polar opposite of Steve.

“The widow has a way, doesn’t she?”

“I’ve learned my lesson,” he mutters, nodding. “Wasn’t sure whether to be happy or offended when Sam recognized me right away.”

He’s managed to step just a little closer every time he talks, so Steve’s bare chest now seems within licking distance from your face.

You should not be thinking about that.

“Well, at least we both have fun sleeves,” you chirp instead, looking down at your hands.

It’s all you can say, even though there’s so much more you want to say. You promised yourself you’d tell Steve how you feel tonight, but now that he’s standing here, right there with very tight pants…

“Stupid,” you mumble aloud.

“Hey, no, no. The dress isn’t stupid. You don’t look bad. That’s not what I was—“ Steve gently grabs your shoulders and rubs over the yarn. “Just haven’t seen that picture, I guess.”

Monster Mash plays loud enough to filter into the hall while you two stand in silence, his warm hands and eyes on you.

This is it. Say it. Rip it off like a bandage and then run away if necessary, but you need to tell him—

“Punch?”

Damn. You deflate. “I said I was sorry. Pete came up behind me, and those things are all hairy.“

“No, I meant, do you want some punch? A drink,” Steve smiles and steps back, reaching to rub his neck and then having to fight with random locks of the wig. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

Scott Lang is refilling the punch bowl when you sidle on up to the refreshments table.

“Blood orange life-force with maraschino eyeballs and pineapple visera, anyone? Two pint max for the evening.”

“Very funny,” Steve shouts over the music. He scoops the concoction into small cups.

“Hey,” Scott wiggles in his enormous, saggy bumble bee costume, “it’s Cass—excuse me, Carrie’s favorite.” He points right past you. “You good, pumpkin?”

You turn around to see a girl covered in red from head to toe, and you…you freeze.

You stare at her mock-sullen face, the edges of liquid streaks crusting over, her mair matted with goo, and a memory strikes you so vividly, you’re lost for a moment.

A mission. A bad one. A messy one.

Everything is just red and slippery and quiet. Even in the din of the party, you are alone…if you don’t count the bodies in the room.

The next thing you see is Steve cupping your face in his hands and saying your name—your original name—and cycling through any other—Autumn, Rosie, Soldate—that might bring you back.

You’re outside in the crisp air.

How did you get outside?

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

You blink. He’s never called you that before. It makes you feel warm all over, but your fluttering joy is short-lived.

“What did I do?”

This is exactly the reason you shouldn’t tell him. Steve can’t feel anything but fear and pity for you if you’re still losing time.

“You just started shaking. You didn’t do anything to anyone. I thought…thought I was helping you.”

There’s the pity. Right on cue. He thinks you should be better than this by now. You agree, but it is what it is.

You push his arms away to step back and hug yourself though you aren’t cold. It’s not the outfit that’s making you feel exposed now.

“We should have thought to limit the costumes,” Steve finally says, staring at his laced boots. “Never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

Looking up at him, mesmerized by how simultaneously shy and huge he is before you, you don’t know what to do. You could get it over with, take the rejection with the hit of a flashback and hope the heartache is mitigated by its own predictability, or you could spare yourself, hold off until another bad day when you finally tell him. However, that’s not really an option because you know that if you stall any longer, you’ll never do it.

You settle for “you don’t make me uncomfortable, Steve.”

Instead of pointing out how you keep shifting from platformed-foot to platformed-foot or how obsessively you’re fiddling with the knit of your sleeve, he clears his throat.

“Good,” he says, standing tall again and flicking the long blond strands over his shoulder. “I want you to be comfortable around me…with me.”

A soft breeze wafts the hair and now you see the resemblance to the cover of a paperback on one of the shelves in the common room. It makes you smile with a little snort.

“What,” Steve asks curiously.

“I see what you did. I know your ploy.”

He smiles, too, but clearly not understanding what for.

“You’re trying to give the full effect of your costume—get that wind flowing for the dashing hero, huh?”

“Actually, I hate this thing and I promise to never complain about the cowl again,” Steve mutters, scratching at the back of his head, “but if you think it’s dashing—“

“No.”

He looks at you, huge and shy and utterly perfect even when ridiculous. He’s waiting for what you have to say.

“You are dashing.” Yikes, your stomach is churning. “Without the—“ you return to fiddling with your belled sleeve’s hem “—and I appreciate you, ya know, looking out for me, spending time with me—“

“I want to make you happy,” Steve repeats, but that’s not quite the same, is it?

Another flip of your gut has you rushing to get it over with, but you can’t quite pin down the words.

“—and not making fun of all this stuff I don’t know or can’t do. Thank you for being patient with me, and you’re more kind than you should be since I’m—“

“You’re wonderful,” he blurts as his feet hustle to close the short distance between you.

“No, but Steve, what I’m trying to say is—“

His hands cup your face again. “I’m crazy about you, Rosie.”

“—that I l…did you just? What? But I was…”

“Of course I’m around you as much as I can be. I don’t care what we do. I like you. I want to be with you.”

For so long, you thought that all those trips to the Botanical Gardens, all those shared meals and star gazing, all that reading aloud while you gardened was someone keeping tabs on you. You thought he was assigned to guard you because no one trusted you to be alone, but maybe…just maybe, you were wrong.

Your voice is small and breathy. “That’s what I was gonna say.”

Steve smirks and absently licks his lips. “Good. I’m glad you want me. All the time, I hope, because I know I need to be around you. It hurts when I’m not.”

His expression doesn’t falter as his thumbs roll over your cheeks gently.

Your hands raise up to cover his. “You did the Cap speech thing—“

“Right. Sorry.”

“—kinda stole my thunder,” you finish.

“Force of habit,” he shrugs, bright blue eyes intent and somehow not at all apologetic, his gaze flickering down to your mouth momentarily. “Say it anyway?”

It should be even easier since you know, since he’s punctured the balloon of fear. It should all flow right out.

But it doesn’t.

Your chest is tight like a vice, your mouth full of cotton. You’ve practiced (out loud and written) a few different ways to ask, but you can only think of the one that made you laugh, the one that seemed so silly you knew you’d never say it.

“You wanna go steady with me, Steve Rogers?”

He grins.

He may be close to a modern man, but Steve still likes the old ways better sometimes. This is one of those things that feels right for a centenarian and a woman over sixty—technically—but while he awaits the inevitable joke about maturity between the sexes from Natasha, Steve’s had dreams about this moment.

“I’d love nothing more, Rosie.”

His lips against yours are soft as satin, capturing short little kisses that make you mewl without realizing. As his hands drop from your face to your waist, skimming across your nearly-bare skin and tangling in the open knit to pull you close, you notice how rough the pads of his fingers are. He mumbles an apology when you both feel a thread snag, but you don’t care. Your hands accidentally yank at the long wig when you grip around his neck.

“Sorry,” you say, too.

Steve doesn’t break away; he pulls you closer, close enough for the naked expanse of his chest to press against the exposed bits of skin on your breasts. The sharp inhale this elicits only broadens how much of you touches him. You can feel an electric shiver devour your nerves all over. You moan and grip a little harder into the fake hair.

“Hate this thing,” he answers right into your skin before you open for him again. “Gonna throw it in the fire.”

You chuckle straight into his mouth.

Just when his tongue begins to dance with yours, there’s a flash but not of heat. Luckily, this distraction has you less apt to startle, so you don’t flinch.

“Shit,” you hear Yelena mutter from the other side of the window to your left, and footsteps follow to signal her retreat.

Steve retracts anyway, stepping back to wipe at his mouth and stare guiltily at the concrete sidewalk. He chuckles to himself.

“Been meaning to do that for a while.”

“Me, too.”

There’s a fiery, awkward moment of staring before he swallows thickly and rights his posture.

“Well, I suppose if she’s got photographic evidence that I had this thing on, I can just—“

Steve carefully pulls the wig and several pins from his head, leaving his normal hair as disheveled as removing the cowl—it’s glorious—then he leans back toward you.

With one of those rough fingertips, he tucks some of your big, goofy hair behind an ear and says, “now. I owe my girl a sweet treat, don’t I? Perhaps something not blood related.”

You’re not sure what on Earth could be more of a treat or sweeter than Steve Rogers, but he can try if he likes. You’ll be right here beside him, where he wants you, where you belong.

banner and challenge details @flufftober

And that's it for Flufftober, gang! Onwards.

[Day Thirty; Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

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eroticmonstersimp · 1 year

Text

Wendigo in the Treeline

You grabbed your coat from the coat rack located near the front door and made your way out. It was a full moon tonight and you had planned to go out to your favorite spot to stargaze. Even though it was a little chilly outside, that didn't stop you.

The sound of your boots crushing leaves on the forest floor put a smile on your face. You loved nature. You always did. When you were little you would spend hours outside. Picking flowers and playing with small frogs you would find in your kiddy pool in the yard.

At age 23 you had decided to embrace your love for nature and move out to the countryside. Your parents were a little worried at first but they soon realized you would be just fine.

Most of your necessities came from the earth. You had a garden behind your house and you had flowers growing in the front and around the sides. You grew vegetables, and fruits and even had a few chickens in the back as well.

You barely had any Bills either. Your house was solar-powered so you barely had a light bill. Your house mortgage and water bill were your only bills. your water bill was barely a problem either since you collected a lot of water from the nearby stream. whenever you needed it you would boil it to make it safe for drinking. the only time you used the faucets were for bathing. Every few months you would go into town to buy some groceries. But it was never much since you already had most of what you needed at home.

You arrived at the small clearing. Nearby there was a river you visited frequently to go crystal hunting. You laid out the blanket you brought along and laid down. The sky tonight was as captivating as always.

The stars formed different shapes and the breeze felt cool on your skin. Before you knew it you fell asleep.

You felt a warm fuzzy feeling on your right cheek. It tickled. You swatted at it thinking it was a spider and rolled over to your side. Eyes still closed. The sound of heavy breathing and loud stomping running away made you jolt up. You looked towards the direction you heard the noises but there was nothing. What on earth was that?!

Quickly you gathered your things and sped walk the way back to your house. You were anxious. You felt as if someone was watching you. Without looking back you continued on.

Once you saw the glow of the lanterns outside your house you visibly sighed. I'm gonna be fine. You walked up the front steps of your little house and opened the door. You turned around and looked out into the treeline. At first, you didn't see anything. But after a minute of inspection, you saw it. It seemed to look like bright yellow glowing eyes watching you. You shut your door and made sure to lock it. I'm not risking anything.

The next day you were cautious to go outside. But your garden needed watering so you gave in a little after late afternoon. The sun was already starting to set and the breeze had an icy chill.

You started watering your front yard first. The multi-colored flowers gave a little dance as the wind blew. You were about halfway done with the front when you heard a large tussle from your backyard. Usually, you weren't the type to go and investigate. But something was telling you to just take a quick peek.

Slowly you tiptoed around the side of your house, making sure to make as less sound as possible. Finally, you rounded to the corner. What you saw you most definitely were not expecting.

Standing at almost 8 feet tall was...a creature. It was covered in dark, fluffy fur. The creature stood tall on its hind legs. Its face looked to be a skull. A deer skull, it had huge antlers resting on the top of its head along with large fluffy ears drooping to the side. The creature seemed to be inspecting your tomatoes.

It paused and looked up in your direction. You froze. You didn't know what to do. Should I run? Or stay put. Will it kill me if I do either?! Slowly it turned your way and lowered down on all fours. 'Oh God!? It's gonna pounce at me!' You were so scared, but you just couldn't seem to move.

The creature just stood there, staring. After what seemed to be an eternity it sat down. 'Why is it sitting? Is it playing with me?! It knows I'm scared!'

(I'm not gonna do anything to you.) Your legs gave out and you collapsed in the dirt. It spoke. But it didn't? You heard it in your head... (If you wish for me to leave I will.) The creature's voice was deep, it kind of sounded like a man in his 50s to 60s. He sounded older.

You swallowed down the saliva that had collected in your mouth. "You don't have to leave if you're not gonna hurt me." The creature nodded. (Very well. I have no intention to harm you either way.)

"What are you?"

(Wendigo. At least that's what you humans call my kind.)

Kind!? Are there more of them? You didn't really know what to do. So you just stood there and observed him. The entire time he didn't budge. Just sitting and waiting for you to speak again.

" what do you want with me?" His head tilted slightly to the left. Like a curious dog almost.

(To observe. When you moved out here at first I watched just because. I saw how you live from the earth and how you obviously have a deep connection with nature. Your garden is always looking at its best and seems to have a love for you.)

"Love? What do you mean my garden has a love for me?" You were confused. What did he mean?

(They told me so.)

"They did?! How?"

(I am a creature that comes from and lives within nature so I am able to speak its language. Your plants do appreciate the conversations you have with them as you feed them.)

You didn't know what to say. So this entire time your plants were actually listening?

(When I noticed your deep connection with the earth I decided to observe from distance. Every once in a while I'll come and talk to your garden. Ask them about you. If you wish for me to observe no more I will stop.)

"So last night, out by the river, that was you?"

He nodded. (It was.)

You sighed. "Are there more of your kind out in the woods nearby?"

(No, only me. But there are other forest spirits wandering around.)

Your eyes widened in fear. Are there things roaming around that could kill you?

(But you don't have to worry. All the spirits in the area are neutral. They won't harm unless you do unto them.)

You sighed in relief and nodded. "Do you have a name or do I just call you wendigo?"

(It is driven.) Draven rose from his sitting position returning to his 8-foot stature. Slowly he made his way over to you. You didn't move. Right in front of you, he paused. You cautiously lifted your hand and reached out to him. Draven closed the gap and rubbed the side of his head against your hand.

(I am no threat.) His fur was thick and soft. It reminded you of the cat you got when you were younger. Her name was bunny. She was the most fluffiest cat you had ever seen. The old cat was still purring. You didn't want to stress her by moving her out into the middle of nowhere so she remained in the city with your parents.

You smiled at Draven and gave a hum. "Okay. I believe you."

#monster boyfriend #monster romance #wendigo #terato #short story

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sir-subpar · 2 years

Text

Sinthia Lore post!

Below the cut!

Don't worry about the pic, I was just doing some facial expression practice lol

Here it is! Sinthia lore stuff/info! I'll start with physical details:

Though it may be hard to tell, her whole body is actually fuzzy. She does her best to smooth most of it down.

Out of the main cast, she is the tallest by far. Sadly most buildings around her don't account for her height, so she oftentimes has to lean down to get into places.

Since I had to redesign her legs (and she no longer has four of them) I decided to give her spider feet.

She does have venom, but it's pretty benign and not that dangerous. So her main self-defense mechanism is actually kicking. Considering her height, it's very effective.

She will have many different outfits, most of them will have some sort of spider theme.

She's based on a Simaetha Jumping spider. So, as the name implies, she's quite good at jumping and climbing.

She has gold patterns on her body, but she hides most of them under her clothes. It's part of why she always wears gloves.

Okay, time for more in depth stuff now.

Sinthia is both a witch and a seamstress. She makes mostly clothing, and likes to enchant what she makes. Sometimes she just does little spells, like clothes that change color. Sometimes she makes more substantial things like clothes that shift to fit better or change size.

She does her best to seem confident and collected, but she has her own insecurities and issues like anyone else. She feels a need for validation. She likes it when people find her impressive or beautiful, so she worries about people getting "too close". She thinks if people know her too well, they'll lose interest or think less of her.

She doesn’t really care about labels when it comes to her sexuality. She’s not straight, but she doesn’t really know/care what to call herself, she just likes who she likes.

She loves boots. Wearing them, making them, doesn't matter. She really likes thigh-high boots.

She has a lot of siblings. Nine of them, in fact. She's the 10th sibling. She wasn't given a lot of attention and love like her other siblings, which is part of why she wants so many people to pay attention to her.

She doesn’t have a good relationship with her parents.

She sometimes helps Dr Damus by making materials for him (she makes clothes on commission) like new masks, gloves, etc.

Side note:

She and Samwell know each other, they're kind of friends(?) They aren’t super close. She pulls pranks on him and he still hasn't caught on to one of them. A few years ago, Sinthia enchanted part of his farm to grow zucchini no matter what. Sounds great right? Well.. Now he can't grow anything else in that part of his farm. Only zucchini. I'll explain how he handles it in his lore post later on, this post is about Sinthia.

How about some Sinthia x Y/N stuff?

Sinthia's spider abdomen (aka: "spider butt") shakes when she really likes someone, similar to when a dog wags their tail.

If Y/N is shorter than her, (which is common) there's a high chance that she'll hold them/lift them off the ground often. Carry them around and whatnot :)

She finds couples dancing really romantic.

She will make her s/o clothes. She's a designer, she makes clothes, so yeah, she'll dress up her significant other. If she gets married, she'll make the wedding attire.

Y/N is not safe from small, mischievous pranks. Prank her back.

She'll only trust someone she's really close with to see her hidden patterns, since she's self-conscious about them. ( fun fact: her "fingerless gloves" aren't actually fingerless. She just designed them to look like fingerless gloves).

She’s practically nocturnal, not an early bird at all, so don’t try to wake her up in the morning, it’s a good way to get spider-kicked.

She doesn’t really care for flowers, she does like gems though! She can use them in her work, enchant them, or just keep them.

I’m still working out her character, like all the others, lol.

#oc #ocs #autumn in love #sinthia the spider witch #sinthia #sinthia lore post #oc lore post

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innytoes · 2 years

Text

So @jatp-spinsb wrote me this lovely Halloween-ish ficlet about The Caleb/Ray/Reggie ABO AU’s Reggie’s love of Halloween, and I love it so much. And it unlocked so many headcanons I thought it deserved its own post.

-So, Reggie loves Halloween. Like, loves it. It was the only holiday growing up that wasn’t mired in drama and fights, because it wasn’t focused so much on Being The Perfect Family. Especially once his parents decided he was old enough and just let him roam the streets alone with his friends. (Which was... way younger than most parents would.)

-He loves the pumpkins, and the black cats, and the ghosts (both cute and spooky) and just the entire vibes. He loves scary movies, especially now that he can curl up against Ray or Caleb and hide his face against them when it gets very scary. (Ray jumps just as much as Reggie. Caleb pretty much never jumps, and will mutter insults about how stupid the protagonists are under his breath.)

-October first, Reggie breaks out the puppy eyes. Ray and Caleb negotiate him down to adding a little bit of Halloween decor every week, and not going Full Spoopy all at once. They start with some Tasteful Gourds. Maybe a nice wreath for the door.

-Yes, the tiny pumpkins start popping up all over the house.

-Like the ficlet said, Caleb is Very Pleased when he realises how he can best spoil Reggie. Even if he is a little like: I wanted to buy him a rolex, but I guess a *checks amazon* zombie lawn flamingo will have to do. One day, he will get Reggie interested in the finer things in life.

-Imagine Ray and Caleb taking Reggie to a real pumpkin patch and he just... nearly vibrates out of his skin. They get two nice big pumpkins for carving, some cute small ones to dot around the porch, a hot slice of apple pie and some Pumpkin Spice Lattes and apple cider. Ray takes his camera and just takes... so many pictures. Yes Caleb’s phone screen is now a slideshow of Ray and Reggie at the pumpkin patch.

-When Reggie realises this is the kind of neighbourhood that does trick or treating, he is so excited. He doesn’t even feel bad for using his credit card to buy a ton of candy so they can be the House That Gives Out Full Sizes Candy Bars. He also gets some cute little Halloween themed trinkets and stuff like erasers, cool pens, yo-yos and fake spiders, because he remembers his childhood best friend having to give away half his candy at the end of the night because of his peanut allergies.

-Ray and Caleb agree to dress up, even though they’re staying home and handing out candy. Caleb only has an afternoon show once he learns that Halloween is a Big Deal for Reggie.

-They ask Reggie what he wants to be, and he asks them if it’s okay if it’s a surprise. Which, of course. So they all agree to surprise each other with their costumes. Ray starts getting suspicious when Caleb stops shaving a few days before Halloween, because he knows the man likes to be clean-shaven. (Caleb is a little shit and is like: I have no idea what you’re talking about.)

-Ray decides to dress up as Han Solo because 1) he’s always wanted to 2) to see Reggie go all flushed. Which he does.

-Reggie comes out and he’s dressed as a Sexy Cat. Except he added some tights and fuzzy leg and arm warmers as well, because he wants to be a sexy cat that is also warm and child-friendly enough to hand out candy. “Get it?” he says, sidling up to Caleb. Caleb of course is highly amused his kitten is now an actual kitten. (And he has Plans for when the trick or treating part of the evening ends.)

-Then Caleb disappears into the bedroom. And when he comes out, Ray is half-annoyed, half-turned on. Because Caleb is wearing one of his flannels. And his jeans. And some big boots. And a beanie that Ray is also pretty sure belongs to him. Listen, he loves it when Reggie wears his clothes, but seeing his husband in them is new and exciting and... wow.

-“Oh my god, you’re a sexy lumberjack!” Reggie shouts, beaming.

“I was just going for ‘lumberjack’, but alright, kitten,” Caleb says, looking smug.

-Yes there are Many Sexy Times once the trick or treating if over.

-Reggie manages to keep the Halloween decor up until almost Thanksgiving. After that he dutifully packs it away. Except for the Decorative Gourds, those get to stay until Christmas.

-He has plans to spray paint them white in an attempt to persuade Ray that totally counts as Christmas decor.

-Reggie keeps the cat ears around, though. Just in case.

#the caleb/ray/reggie ABO AU #a/b/o dynamics #calebxrayxreggie #fanfic #I wrote a thing #I am not writing a thing #yes it's july yes I am writing Halloween Headcanons don't @ me #julie and the phantoms

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multimuse-multiuse · 22 hours

Note

"I would burn the world for you." ( Travis for Angel! )

[Angel]

Angel sat on the sofa, head on the back, from his lips white smoke came out in whisks. His nostrils release it first, then his mouth parts in a small "o" to expel the rest. Chest heaving, the fluffiness going up and down slowly as he relaxes with the cigarette.

In the back, the mellow tones of a slow lazy beat melody unnoticeably fill the dimly lit room. The white and pink demon is still using the leather of the last recording. Gluing to his sweaty fur, the body tired and relaxing before the bath.

His head is fuzzy and far away, somewhere where the weight of the afterglow can't reach him. After twelve hours of recording, all he wants is to melt into a pool of smoke and powder until there's nothing of himself but the dirty clothes. The only mark of his existence would be the clothes and boots he leaves behind.

Legs cross as one of them is standing at the top of the small smoking table in front of the pink fluffy sofa. Made of synthetic fur where he rubbed his cheek for a moment before hearing the voice of Travis coming almost like an echo even though he was right there in the same room.

Angel isn't doped, nah, he's just allowing his mind to wander. The cigarette though is slightly laced, just a hint. Enough to relax but not to completely take his mind away.

When he hears Travis he leans his head more back until he's looking at the other upside down. At first, he's silent, just staring for a moment. Like calculating Travis' shape and words, making sense of them.

When finally understood, a smile grows on the features of the spider. The golden tooth glows in the red dimly lit room. The neon lights gleamed ever so lightly.

"That so?" There's a hint of irony in his tone. Man...it felt good hearing it. But Angel wasn't in the mood for sweet words. They sounded almost fake. He was in a cynical mood. A mood that normally came after a long day of work. Those days that need a little something for him to do the walk of shame back to his room or to...some washed-up club where he could buy amnesia.

There's a chuckle, a charming low chuckle, and the spider roll on the sofa, arms now where the head was, chest setting at the same place. His heterochromatic eyes fall heavily lidded and the grin turns into a smirk.

It was a long day, maybe Angel feels like playing a little. His lower right arm reaches for his purse and from it, he takes a lighter, brings it up to one of his upper hands, and lights it.

"I'd love to see that Travis. For once I should take you upon your empty offers." He plays with the lighter some swaying it around. "Here, take it and burn the whole studio to the ground. Do that and you can take me in your arms to the sunset. Huh? That'd be good wouldn't it?"

A lip bite, the eyes have a playful glow of daring, behind it There's hurt and pain but that won't matter for now. Now it's only the two of them, a lighter and a promise of a happy ending.

"Do it and you'll never feel cold again."

A pathetic attempt at regaining control. He knew none of them would take up such an offer. But it was fun to play it for a bit.

"Whaddya say, Travis?" A melted sultry tone."Wanna play house? You the husband, me the wife...huh? I even got a kid."

The hand without the lighter made circles in the changing fur of the sofa. The cigarette died slowly, unsmoked.

#arachnid nelly #Nelly in furs

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casspurrjoybell-24 · 22 days

Text

My Unwanted Mate - Chapter 2 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Calvin Frey

"Look," Benjamin smiled up at me, holding out his small fisted hand.

I looked at him from where I was stacking the pile of wood I'd chopped up to add to the pile already by the shed.

There wouldn't be much yard work to do until winter passed and our small garden had died from the cold but Benjamin still found a way to get himself covered from head to toe in dirt.

My pup opened his hand and I yelped, shuffling back.

Benjamin burst with laughter having found my reaction hysterical.

"No playing with bugs," I scolded, reaching out to him, before thinking better of it.

"Put it down."

"I found it," he pouted, closing his fist back around the fuzzy brown wood spider.

He was holding it so tightly I wondered if he'd crushed the thing.

"Let it go," my voice went down an octave, my eyes leveling on his.

Benjamin huffed but squatted down to let the spider run into the grass.

"Bye bye, Mr. Spidey."

"Lets get some of this wood inside," I told him, holding out a small piece I knew he could carry.

Benjamin was excited to help and waited patiently as I filled my arms up with wood before leading the way to the house.

They were calling for snow and I needed to get enough inside and cover the rest outside with tarp to keep the wood dry.

It looked like my week off of work would be spent snowed in with my pup.

The only problem I had with that, was keeping the old farm house warm.

Benjamin followed me into the house and to the living room where I piled up the wood beside the wood stove.

He added his single piece to the pile, smiling proudly up at me.

He had dirt smudge on his cheek and the knees of his jeans were damp with mud.

It wasn't an unusual sight and I knew better than to clean him up until bedtime.

We headed back outside where I pulled the tarp over the wood pile and placed a few heavier pieces on top to secure it while he watched.

That is, until he was distracted.

I'd just stopped Benjamin from chasing after another spider when the sound of tires on gravel reached me.

It was a clear indication that someone was coming to visit.

Torin most likely, wanting to steal my pup for a few hours.

Hopefully he'll cut back on that when he has his own pup to look after.

It was still strange knowing that would be his reality soon enough.

Benjamin chased after me as we walked around the house to see the car parked in front.

It wasn't my brother's cherry red Prius and I was sure I'd never seen anyone in the pack driving the white KIA Optima before.

"I'm carrying it."

"No, I am."

"But I cooked it."

"It was my idea."

My eyes shifted to the two small blonds making their way up the path to the front porch.

They were tugging on a glass dish, fighting over who was carrying it.

Clearing my throat, I watched with amusement as they jumped and nearly dropped what they were fighting over.

Both of the identical twins turned to me, their eyes wide with fright.

They were dressed in matching white winter coats, dark jeans and white snow boots as if prepared for a blizzard.

It was a comical sight, especially knowing they're wolves and aren't affected by the cold like humans are.

"Calvin Darling, looking as handsome as ever," the twin on my right, charmed.

I knew it was Nathan with the way he blatantly looked me over, his plump bottom lip getting trapped between his teeth.

"Hello," Tatum spoke softly in his usual bashful manner.

I hadn't seen them since the family dinner I had no choice but to sit through.

Saying goodbye was brief that night as they looked up at me so obviously hoping I'd ask them to come home with me.

I didn't and had rushed away before I could see their forlorn expressions.

That was three days ago.

Now they stared up at me, eager for my attention.

Scratching at the back of my neck, I glanced down at Benjamin who was hiding behind my leg and peaking around at the twins.

"Would you like to come in?" I finally asked.

They nodded quickly and I picked up my pup, passing them to get into the house.

"We brought homemade macaroni," Tatum blurted.

"Torin mentioned it was Benji's favorite."

He held out the glass dish nervously, his cheeks already pink.

"Benjamin," I corrected gruffly, making him take a step back.

Why the hell was Torin telling them things about my pup?

Nathan stepped in front of his twin protectively, his eyes narrowing on me.

"Your brother also told us that you can't cook for a lick."

He unzipped his winter coat, revealing a white turtleneck.

"So Tate's gonna be a doll and heat that on up for us and we're gonna have lunch... together."

Nathan smiled, daring me to argue with him.

Not knowing what else to do, I led the way into the kitchen.

It was one of the few rooms that had been renovated before moving in.

The cabinets and counters were white like the walls, the countertops a dark wood that matched the floor.

The room was bright, the open windows allowing natural light in.

The only color was the soft yellow curtains.

Tatum seemed to love it.

He rushed to put down his dish and look over everything, checking every cabinet and drawer.

He didn't seem to agree with the contents in my fridge.

There wasn't much besides juice for Benjamin and easy snacks I didn't have to do much to prepare.

Usually Torin made us dinner that lasted a few days or we'd pick up some food in town.

Nathan tossed his coat over the back of one of the chairs to the dining table before walking to his twin and directing him out of his own coat.

Tatum wore the same white turtleneck under.

"The news said there's going to be twenty four inches of snow," Nathan explained.

"We don't get a lot of snow in Alabama."

"Alabama, that explains the accents," I murmured, absentmindedly.

"What was that, Sweetie?" Nathan asked, turning from where he was handing Tatum the macaroni.

"We went shopping this morning to get everything we'd need for the bad weather," he went on, not caring what I'd said.

"I remember, we were seventeen, the last time it snowed a lot back home," Tatum filled in, closing the oven.

"How old are you two?" I asked.

From their looks, I'd guess they'd only just turned eighteen.

Tatum's cheeks tinted pink and Nathan chuckled before answering.

"We'll turn twenty three, this summer."

My brows lifted in surprise and I put Benjamin down onto one of the chairs.

He refused to sit though, standing up and holding onto my brown jacket.

He was watching the twins as if confused about something.

"Your brother told us all about you and your pup," Nathan gushed.

"You're twenty five, you work in construction but you're supposed to be the pack Beta, you don't like kiwi cause the skin makes your lips itch..." he counted off on his fingers, proud that he'd been gossiping with Torin.

Tatum realized I wasn't impressed and placed his hand over his twin's mouth.

"We... we've just been real excited," Tatum said sweetly.

"But we'd prefer to learn about you, ourselves."

Nathan nodded and pushed Tatum's hand away from his mouth.

"We'd like to spend time with you and Benjamin."

I didn't respond to that.

Didn't know how to really.

The thought of rejecting them was still heavy on my mind and I knew it'd be best to do it while it was still fresh.

Benjamin and I are just fine on our own.

We don't need the trouble that will no doubt come with these two.

It didn't take long for the macaroni and cheese to heat up and Tatum got down plates like he'd done it plenty of times before.

"What's it going to be, apple juice or fruit punch?" Nathan asked, the question directed towards Benjamin.

My pup shyly responded that he wanted apple juice.

He finally sat down when Tatum brought over a plastic plate filled with extra cheesy macaroni.

"Careful," Tatum warned softly.

"It's hot... so blow before biting."

Benjamin heeded the warning, hesitantly picking up his fork and blowing.

I brushed back his hair and took a seat beside him.

Tatum sat a plate in front of me and Nathan sat down our drinks.

The twins stood back and watched.

Benjamin was digging in already and I took a bite, humming my approval.

It was good... really good.

The twins were beaming.

"I boiled the water," Nathan blurted out.

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dangerouslyclassyhottub · 10 months

Text

Excerpt from “Whoops”

I really enjoyed imagining what life would be like for Tarantulas on a G1 earth while spying for the Decepticon’s and I got inspired by tiktoks of jumping spiders to write a little chapter about him and Daniel Witwicky. According to TFWiki, Daniel doesn’t have any human friends and I thought about how difficult his life must have been at school and how he probably was that strange kid who played by himself. My heart ached a little for this kid so I wanted to share this chapter by itself. I won’t link the fic because (WARNING lol) it’s nsfw, but this excerpt isn’t. Mild Warning for spiders.

A boy and his spider.

Being a spider smaller than a work boot was often terrifying. But it was also the best way to gather intelligence, so Tarantulas put up with almost being stomped to death on a near weekly basis.

That was until he was captured by the human boy, Daniel.

"Can I keep him dad!" The boy had shouted, almost shaking Tarantulas in the tupperware container he had managed to trap him in.

The boy’s father looked at him with amused concern, "Why do you want a spider for a pet?"

"'Cause no one else has one! He got eight legs and he's super fuzzy, he’s cool! Please, please, please dad!" The boy begged.

"Fine, but you gotta take care of him yourself. Find out what kind of spider he is and what he eats."

"Yesss!" The boy sprinted off gleefully.

Tarantulas was not entirely sure about his new living situation, being kept in a terrarium in a dark corner in the boy’s room. It did make his life so much easier now, as when he was caught snooping in a room instead of being met with a broom or a shoe whatever organic had spotted him would call Daniel to come collect him. To which the boy did so diligently, crying about how much he had missed him or that he would have to get a heavier rock to put on top of his home. And as humiliating as it was to be fed organic roaches, he played his part in the feeding ritual if it meant keeping his cover as an innocuous pet. Although he did have to admit that when the time came that Daniel wanted to hold him it wasn’t entirely an unpleasant experience. For being such a boisterous organic he did have a gentle charm that nudged at the spark.

“You’re my only friend.” The boy would often say, especially when sitting at his desk doing homework, “Other kids just don’t get me.”

In a strange way, Tarantulas wished he could comfort Daniel. The boy did so much for him, he wished he could return the favor.

But he had work to do.

No matter how much information he gathered for Megatron it would be for nothing if he didn’t find what he was looking for. So he watched and he waited. Painfully so as the Autobots were very dull. In recent weeks they had gone into a tizzy however, after finding out about Starscream’s impending progeny. Tarantulas could have rolled all eight of his optics but he did have to admit that at least it was something to gossip about. Juicy gossip loosened other things from the derma too. Many bots began talking about the possibility of having their own sparklings but all of them came to the same realization eventually. That war was no place for a child…

Tarantulas began returning to his terrarium nightly to be there when Daniel woke up.

He skittered across the ark’s hallways, following his target with obsessive focus. He had been at this for years now with no end to his mission in sight. He was exhausted. If anyone would have the information he was looking for he would put his money on this bot.

So he stalked Ratchet into the medbay, carefully slipping past the automatic doors just behind the medic. He’d been caught in here twice already and was lucky that Daniel had reported him missing each time or else he might have been squashed. Ratchet was as observant as he was overworked so Tarantulas doubted the mech wouldn’t realize eventually that he was coming here on purpose. So he needed to be much more careful.

He hid behind the feet of the mediberths, blocking line of sight and only daring to move while the mech himself moved, in fear that the old bot’s audials could pick up the soft patter of his legs across the metal floors. Ratchet retreated to his office, a datapad in hand and a cup of energon in the other. Tarantulas felt his tanks churn a little.

He stole energon occasionally but he couldn’t afford to do so all the time in case someone noticed the shortage. Tarantulas felt himself taking steps towards the office unconsciously. The opening of the medbay doors had him retreating back to his dark corner instantly, curling all of his legs into himself.

“Ah, Prowl, what is it this time?” Ratchet said without getting up from his seat.

Tarantulas narrowed his optics at the black and white bot.

“Ratchet, I want to ask you something, something I’ve suspected for a while.”

He took special note of the disappointment on the medic’s face.

“My answer isn’t going to make you any happier.”

Tarantulas wondered if this had anything to do with the Wheeljack character that had run off a few days ago. He hadn’t been on the ark at the time, having been delivering a report to Megatron, but he had received orders to find out what had happened to make him defect. It had been pretty hush-hush with the higher ups, with a lot of the other bots spitting out rumors. Tarantulas knew that was all they were though, nothing of substance he could give to Megatron.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Prowl asked, his voice sounding almost hurt, “You knew about Wheeljack and Starscream.”

Tarantulas felt his venting pause.

“I did. I found out only days before you did.”

“You harbored a traitor.”

Ratchet stood up and Prowl took a step back, “I helped a friend who was hurting. A friend who just wanted to be able to see his sparkling.”

“Starscream—,”

“Was certainly a choice,” Ratchet cut him off, “But Wheeljack was no traitor. You know nothing about what he’s going through Prowl. If I were you I would worry about keeping this quiet rather than pointing your digits at me.”

Prowl swayed in his spot, his optics never leaving Ratchet’s, “You don’t know a thing about me.” Before walking away.

Ratchet sat back down in his seat, his helm resting in his hands.

Tarantulas retreated back to his terrarium, somehow knowing he would not be getting his answers tonight. He did, however, get something he could bring back to Megatron when he got a chance. He stood on the rock still on his glass home for some time as he pondered his choices, when he heard the door to the room open. He turned and gave the human his attention as the boy dove onto his human-berth, his schoolbag flopping onto the floor.

Curious, he crawled his way over and up to Daniel’s eye level. The boy noticed him then, his eyes filled with water and his normally smushy face was swollen on the side and was turning a dark color.

“Hey dude, what are you doing out?” The boy sniffed, looking at him over his crossed arms, “You sure are a strange one, I dunno how you keep getting out.”

Tarantulas approached and touched his arms gently with his front legs, tapping him.

“Oh this,” The boy pointed at his eye, “Gift from some kids at school. Don’t worry, I got him pretty good too.”

Tarantulas felt his spark ache for the boy. He’d been complaining about bullies for some time now. Daniel put his hand down for him and he graciously crawled onto it.

“They don’t like me ‘cause I’m strange too,” Daniel said, looking far off, “So you and me aren’t so different. We’re just… Misunderstood, y’know? That’s why I like you so much.”

Tarantulas wished more than ever that he could speak to the boy.

He snuck out just after Daniel had gone off to school, relishing in the fresh air as he made his way to his usual meeting spot. Ravage was already there when he arrived.

“Report.” The feline-operative wasted no time getting to the point, “What is the status of the one they call ‘Wheeljack’ among the Autobots?”

Tarantulas felt a pause tugging at his spark, “Nothing much to report. He defected. Not many bots know why, the higher ups are keeping it close to the spark right now. The medic knows more, I’m positive about it.”

“Lord Megatron will want to speak to you about the details, he is anxious for your return.”

“I cannot leave just yet.” He thought of Daniel and how much he cried when he returned after several days being missing. The boy didn’t need that right now, “Uh, I know I’m close to finding out more, and the Autobots may be planning to move raw energon off-planet.” He lied.

Ravage inclined his head at him, “That would be a great opportunity for us. I shall inform Lord Megatron but Tarantulas,” His red optics darkened, “Don’t go getting too comfortable here.”

He left Tarantulas with his thoughts after that.

#G1 AU #tf tarantulas #tf daniel witwicky #my writing #chapter excerpt #whoops #spider warning

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jdgo51 · 1 year

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un Toward the Roar

Today's inspiration comes from:

Roar Like a Lion

by Levi Lusko

Editor's note: One of the great privileges of parenting, grandparenting, and being an auntie or uncle is sharing your faith with little ones. A great way to do that is to read devotions together and pull out the Bible! Devotionals for kids are some of our most popular! Enjoy this one and share with your favorite kids.

"'I am the Lord your God, who holds your right hand, and I tell you, ‘Don’t be afraid. I will help you.’ — Isaiah 41:13 NCV"'

"'When you hear the word lion, you might think of a big, fuzzy mane or super-sharp claws. Then, of course, there’s that whole “king of the jungle” thing. But chances are, the first thing you’ll think of is its roar.

A lion’s roar is big and loud and really scary. Especially if you happen to be a cute little gazelle trotting across the African plains. Just hearing that sound will send a gazelle running as far away from the roar as possible. Which is the worst thing it could do!

Why? Because that roaring lion isn’t where the most danger is. The real hunters are the lionesses, hiding in the tall grass behind the gazelle. You see, the lion’s job is to creep out in front of the gazelle and ROOAARR! — making it turn around and run right into the middle of all those lionesses. Gulp!

As crazy as it sounds, the safest thing for the gazelle is to run toward the roar.

That’s true for you too. When you run from the things that scare you — like trying something new, standing up for what’s right, or telling someone about God — you actually move closer to the danger. That’s because you’re moving closer to what the devil wants you to do and farther away from what God wants you to do.

Facing your fears is the best thing to do. And guess what! You’re not some cute little gazelle surrounded by lions and lionesses. You’re a child of God, and you’re always surrounded by Him. He’ll help you face your fears. Trust Him. Be brave. And run toward the roar!

GET READY TO ROAR!

Is something roaring in your life right now? Something you’re afraid to do? Maybe it’s trying out for the team, singing a solo, or inviting a friend to church. Or maybe it’s standing up to that older kid and telling him to leave the little kids on the bus alone. What’s the first step you could take to run toward the roar? Talk to God about it, and then run.

Dear God, when fear is roaring at me, please give me the courage to run toward the roar. Amen.

Facing your fears is the best thing to do.

CRAZY FEAR

I asked the Lord for help, and He answered me. He saved me from all that I feared. — Psalm 34:4 ICB

Some fears are perfectly logical. For example, if you take a step outside and see a giant, growling grizzly bear charging down the street and headed straight for you, it makes sense to be afraid. You might wonder how this huge, hairy beast happened to be on your street, but being afraid of it would be perfectly reasonable.

Other fears aren’t so logical. Like me and spiders. I hate those guys. In my head, I know I’m like a zillion times bigger than they are. I could squish one with my little toe — covered in a massive steel-toed boot, of course. But when I see a spider, all I can think about are those eight creepy little legs crawling up my arm. I know my fear is crazy, but if I see a spider, I’m outta here. And don’t get me started on snakes!

Maybe you have a crazy fear too. Maybe it’s a fear of numbers — which, by the way, is called arithmophobia. Or maybe it’s just the number eight — octophobia. Maybe you’re afraid of heights or speaking in front of people. Just because your fear seems crazy doesn’t mean you aren’t afraid.

But don’t let fear keep you from experiencing everything God has planned for you. Sure, there may be spiders in that cabin, but I’m not missing that camping trip. Don’t you miss out either — on riding the tallest roller-coaster ride, telling people about Jesus, or even visiting the octopus exhibit at the zoo. Give your fears — crazy or not — to God, and He’ll help you be brave.

DID YOU KNOW?

Some people aren’t just reasonably scared of bears; they are terrified of all kinds of bears. This fear is called arkoudaphobia.

I have no idea how to pronounce it, but I do know it means a fear of all kinds of bears — whether they’re angry grizzly bears, wandering black bears, or cute and cuddly panda bears. It even describes people who are afraid of teddy bears!

Lord, I don't want my fears — real or crazy — to keep me from all You have planned for me. I will trust You to help me be brave. Amen."'

Excerpted with permission from Roar Like a Lion by Levi Lusko, copyright Levi Lusko.

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mintmatcha · 3 years

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Kinktober Day 2- Bondage

Part of the Love Club's Collab!

Ushijima x Reader

Includes: Cisfem reader, dom Ushijima, shibari/bondage, rope play, pussyjob/intercrucial, orgasm denial, pain play, praise, mention of knife (not knifeplay)

A/N: happy kinktober!!!! thanks to jax for letting me participate! kink isn't usually in my wheelhouse, so I hope you all enjoy. keep an eye out of everyone else involved this month! I'll be back on the tenth!!

No matter how many times you do a scene like this, there's an inherent embarrassment to being naked in front of someone. You squeeze your thighs together tight, trying to hide the way you’re already dripping on to the mat below you, but every moment just seems to smear your excitement further across your skin.

"Lift your leg."

Ushijima holds his hand out expectantly, waiting for you to place your leg into his grasp. Even fully dressed, he's a sight; his dark locks pushed back again away from his forehead, damp from exertion. He's wearing the same loose pants and boots as he usually does for your scenes, stripped down to his thin, white undershirt. The last lengths of red ropes, a shade especially for you, are curled tight around his biceps, connecting you to him. You can feel every movement he makes, every twitch of your bicep pulling at the knots already decorating your skin. It’s easy to let your mind wander, to let the edges of your mind go fuzzy as you dip into subspace, but Ushijima is demanding- he requires focus. With a cocked brow, he curls his fingers impatiently, beckoning you to obey, no hint of humor in his eyes.

Lifting your leg exposes just a sliver of your pussy, but he doesn't seem to notice. His hand traces up from your ankle to your calf, barely ghosting over your skin. Despite the fact you’re on full display, elbows bound to each other behind your back, he only pays attention to his work. Carefully and painstakingly slow, he unwinds the bondages and begins to wrap them lower and lower, knotting a loop along your hip, then down your leg, over the mess of your excitement. Usually, he keeps the ties loose, giving you space to squirm, but today they’re tight, digging into the fatty parts of your flesh and locking you into complete stillness.

“Good doll.” Ushijima says under his breath as he forces your thigh up and off of the ground, massaging his thumb into the soft, relaxed muscle. It's easy to relax in his touch; you barely register him bending your leg for you, pressing it up and into your chest until the stretch burns and, despite yourself, the discomfort makes you fight against him.

"Relax." Ushijima runs a finger down the back of your lifted thigh and across the ropes bound to you. He doesn’t comment on your wetness, but you catch the flicker of a smirk. "You're too tense." He presses his thumb into the fat connecting your thigh and ass as he works with his free hand, almost like he's trying to massage the muscle into behaving as he ties it into place. "What's your color?"

"Green." you say, wiggling away from the pressure as he abruptly catches your other knee and hoists it up until you’re symmetrical, knees joined to your biceps. "It's just tight, sir."

"You're always tight, doll," his eyes finally drop to look at your pussy, gently parted because of the position he's contorted you into. “Just relax-”

Ushijima does one final knot and it’s complete. You’re dressed fully in his design, trapped in his spider’s web. Like this, hands clasped behind your hips, knees up near your chest, so high that your flexed feet can barely touch the floor, it’s hard to maintain balance. If you’re not careful, you’ll fall-

Just as you think that, Ushijima suddenly grasps the woven pattern between your breasts, his fingers squishing under the taut silk, and he drags you forward, not so gently bringing you down onto your face. Cheek squished into the firm down of the matted floor, you can only catch a glimpse of his face, never changing from it’s stoic nature, before he stands. The thick, black heel of his boot is right next to your face, so polished you can see your reflection in the plastic. It’s hard to recognize yourself like this, eyes wide with worry and lust in preparation of being his toy. He steps forward, the jagged, rough edge of his shoe scraped over your cheek, threatening to press you further into the floor. It doesn’t move away from your cheek until you flinch, slamming your eyes closed as hard as you can in anticipation for the pain- only to have him step over you with a chuckle.

You can hear him fiddling with the belt’s buckle as he walks around you, each patient, soft footstep seemingly slower than the prior, but you don’t turn your head to watch. Even if you tried to strain to follow him, you couldn’t; you’re stuck staring to the side, staring at nothing. You know better than to try. It’s a test; he’s waiting for you to act, waiting for you to struggle.

But you behave and stay still, fully malleable under his control.

“There you go.” you flinch at the sudden grip on your ass, pulling your cheek and pussy lips apart harshly. The inherent burn of stretched skin is soothed immediately by a thick, warm slick… it takes you a second to realize what’s dripping down the curve of your ass to your cunt.

He spit.

On your asshole.

The thought makes you melt- it’s so possessive, so dirty, so disrespectful. You hum an affirmative when he does it again, the sound of his tongue against his teeth audible this time. This glob misses its mark, landing on the globe of your ass, dribbling down over his fingers and cooling before it even touches your skin.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he grips tighter, fingernails digging crescent marks into your skin.

“Like being used?” He shifts so his knees are outside of your ankles, the cool zipper of his jeans snagging against your skin when he lines up against you. The weight of his cock, clothed with only the thin cotton of his boxers, sliding against you makes your skin run hot; sex isn’t always a guarantee in Ushijima’s scenes, it’s an treat he saves for special occasions. “Like being mine?”

It’s hard to focus on staying still as the position starts to ache your shoulders; there’s a quiver building in the muscles, shaking your body no matter how much you fight against it.

“You’re doing well,” Ushijima’s voice is low, practically purring, as he drags a finger down the plane of your back, “Do you think you deserve a reward?”

You answer without thinking. “Y-yes.”

The tinkling of his belt buckle being undone gives you a hint of what’s going on. There’s a ghost of a kiss between your strained shoulder blades, a silent check in, followed by the sharp pain of his canines latching on. “Yes what?” he whispers into your skin.

“Sir- yes, sir.”

The spongy head of his cock suddenly presses against your asshole, precum glazing over the tight ring of muscle. There’s just enough force to make you whine at the pain, just enough force for you to crave more. Just as you think he’s about to fuck you, he pulls away, leaving you cold. You whine a wordless protest, only to be rewarded with his dick, this time following the curve of your body, sliding through the velvety folds of your pussy, gathering your excitement along his length. The crown of his cock catches against your clit, puffy and neglected, and you practically convulse against the bindings in an attempt to grind against him again.

“You’re already so wet.” Ushijima rolls his hips against you so slowly that you can feel the pull of every vein as it slides against you. “You’re so desperate for it that you don’t even need me inside you.”

Ushijima is racked with a full body shiver as he continues to fuck through the petals of your pussy, savoring the feel every time the friction makes you wiggle and whine. His breathing is already labored, heavy enough that it tickles your back with every exhale. It’s so rare to see him break like this.

“Can you cum like this?” he’s hunched over you, forehead pressed into the baby hairs on the back of your neck. Heavy hands trace over his handiwork, tracing over the loops and patterns across your skin.

There’s the electric build of an orgasm pulsing through you, but you feel impossibly empty, impossibly desperate to be stretched and stuffed without mercy. “I- I dunno-” you whine, hoping it’ll be enough to convince him to fuck you.

But instead, he just continues to tease. “Try for me, doll.” Ushijima says, “You’re always so obedient- I know you can do it.”

Ushijima suddenly grips the ropes around your wrists, forcing your back into a deep arch, while his other hand curls into your hair, forcing your head down further into the mat, until the soft give doesn’t feel soft anymore. It’s not easy to forget how big he is, being a professional athlete and all, but having his whole weight on you like this, the dull ache of pressure building, the contrast of pleasure and pain clouding your forebrain, makes you acutely aware of just how big his is.

“Perfect little cunt, even the outside feels perfect-.” he huffs, “C-can you feel yourself dripping? Can you fucking hear it?” He thrusts into your labia, hard, and the impossibly sloppy sound of your pussy echoes through the room over and over again. The pace is lopsided as he chases his own pleasure, partially forgetting about yours. Despite your tied position locking you in place, the sheer force alone has you skidding forward.

The clap of his hips against you, the low hum of pleasure as he uses your body, your own breath caught in your throat sneaking out as a whine: all of it makes your cunt clench with need. The excitement alone has you vibrating and the friction of his cock only sweetens the feeling-

But it’s not enough.

“Please-” your voice is so ruined you barely recognize it. Your body is impossibly tense, balancing on the edge of cumming, needing that last push that just isn’t coming, “Need you- ne-ed you inside me-,”

“Shh.” Ushijima grips your hair tighter, “You don’t. Cum just like this-”

Sweat drips down your nose. Despite being locked in place, being edged like this has your body working hard, braced so hard with anticipation that you’re breathless. Every time you think it’s about to happen, you’re about to cum, the next thrust of his cock isn’t perfect- sometimes it misses your clit, sometimes it's too hard.

“Wakatoshi, I can't-”

"Do you remember the safe word?" he asks softly.

The idea of this ending, orgasm completely ruined, feels like a punch to the gut. "I fucking remember, please don't stop-"

“Then listen.” he slows down slightly, “Breathe deep-”

The inhale has your ribs digging against the ropes bruisingly hard-

“And let it happen.”

The ropes are silk, and yet, when you cum, you quiver against them so much that they burn, every piece of built up tension leaving your body. Through your own whines, you can barely hear Ushijima babbling. He’s usually so stoic, so put together, but your orgasm has left him undone.

“There it is- I knew it- I knew you could-” he sighs, “Fuck, I can feel that- I’m not even inside you and I can-”

Ushijima crumbles, chest flat against your back and breath hot against your hair. The thin fabric of his shirt is dotted with sweat, sticking to his skin and yours. His hands are fumbling with your bindings wildly, trying to hook his fingers underneath his tight handiwork, the simple action restricting you even more. His cock is throbbing, dribbling spend against the inside of your pussy lips, joining your own cum as it leaks down your thigh.

You both stay like this for a moment, savoring the release, before Ushijima straightens again. There’s a shuffle and then the distinct fwick of his pocket knife. The cool flat edge against your wrist is followed by a quick pull, then immediate relief as the ropes lose tension. With a little tug, your arms are free to fall to your sides. With some soreness, you push yourself up onto your palms- only to be rolled onto your back.

Like this, you can finally take in his full appearance. Short, cropped hair is unexpectedly wild, eyes blown out and soft, watching you with a surprisingly profound look as he looks over your body. The flush of his cheeks, a sign of his efforts, is endearing. He lifts your hand by the wrist, twisting it carefully to admire the pattern in dents that trace down your arms, savoring the spectacle.

“Sore?” Ushijima asks, bringing your hand to his face and dotting kisses across your wrist to soothe the ache. His other hand moves, pressing and prodding all of your usual spots, checking for the reactions. The little bits of cum that had painted your stomach are cooling and you shiver.

“Only a little.” you wince at his palms on your chest massaging a particularly sensitive spot. As you start to relax into his touch, you start to realize your legs are still locked to your chest. “My legs are still stuck, sir.”

“I’m aware.” Ushijima catches the knot on your stomach, and you realize it’s not quite like the others that gave away without tension- it’s a real knot, holding your lower body in position. With one arm he lifts you by that knot, the remaining silk digging into the soft of your ass as he drags you closer. His pants are still pushed low, exposing his rehardening cock as it twitches back to life. “I never said we were done.”

He drags himself through you once more until the head is creamy with his own cum. You clench around nothing at the feeling, savoring though last jolts of pleasure from your passed orgasm, only to be suddenly filled with the tip of him. Without being stretched, his cock barely fits, even with all of the wetness and it’s all you can do to throw your hands on his shoulders, bracing yourself.

“Ah- fuck, it’s too much-” you whine.

“Too much?” Ushijima mimics, “You were begging for it earlier.”

He presses forward and your eyes flutter when he becomes fully seated inside you, nails dragging down his chest and leaving long, red lines as the discomfort dissolves into pleasure. Your cunt is still puffy and sensitive from your first orgasm, but he doesn’t take notice, his pace immediately quickening.

“Just be good and take it.”

#ushijima x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #shibari #hotstuff

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scribblersbook · 2 years

Text

How To Help A Lonely Spirit

(Original Release: January 16, 2022) (Setting: Gravity Falls)

„This place is a dump. Is that spider web? Ew…”

Clouds of dust signaled their arrival as the two ghost hunters entered the mansion. The creaking of the floorboards served as accompaniment to each of their steps, the man and the woman walking to the middle of the entrance hall before they stopped to look around. The place truly was in a state of disrepair – the windows were all boarded up, the furniture was completely broken or missing, and there clearly wasn’t any electricity in the building anymore. Spider webs covered every corner and many of the doorways. The railings of the large staircase were like incomplete dentures, standing as a metaphor for the age of the mansion.

The man seemed confident as he glanced around the place. He had short, messy brown hair and was clean-shaven. Maybe even a bit too much so... He couldn’t help it – he was born with a babyface. His baggy, navy blue hoodie was hanging loosely on his thin body and arms, covering up a red shirt. He was carrying a brown shoulder bag flung around his neck, filled to the brim with books and papers.

The woman on the other hand seemed to be having second thoughts about coming here. She was eyeing the place with a repulsed grimace: this wasn’t what she signed up for. She was wearing a dark purple jacket covering up a pink top and trousers, separated by a stylish lavender belt. Her fuzzy, brown boots protected her from the ages of dust gathering on the floor, and her long blonde hair was being kept in check by a purple hairband. Her large, pink hoop earrings swayed gently as she turned her head, looking up at the rotting boards on the ceiling.

“Ugh… remind me why I’m here again, Dipper? Why did I agree to this?” the woman asked with a hint of disdain in her voice.

“Because Mabel is busy with her theater stuff, and you owe me one, that’s why. Mmh…” As she looked at the railing around the stairs, Dipper opened up his bag and pulled out a thick burgundy book. “Pacifica, did you remember to prepare like I asked?”

“Of course, I’m not about to half-ass this…” She rolled her eyes, then tried to recall the details. It was her job to ask around town about the happenings in the mansion, and she sure wasn’t about to shirk her responsibilities. She made a promise after all. “The neighbors down the hill said the place gets really loud every couple days around midnight. You know, stuff getting thrown around, scratching, all the clichés.” Pacifica followed his eyes and glanced at the stairs as she talked, pulling her nose up at the thick layer of filth gathering on the steps. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been down here though. Way too dusty.”

Dipper nodded and flipped through the book. “Okay, so it’s either a really bored ghost, or a bunch of teenagers making a mess. Let’s see…” He settled on a page and started reading, mumbling to himself. “Not-so-deadly… fondest wish… making things float…” He nodded, seemingly having found what he was looking for. “Well, unless I’m missing something, this should be an easy Category 1 ghost.”

“Where have I heard that before?” Pacifica frowned. She gently tapped the lowest step of the stairs with her foot and watched the dust puff into the air around her legs.

“Har har, shut up. I had incomplete information. THIS should be simple.” He looked up the stairs towards the upper floor and closed the book. “How long have these happenings been occuring?”

“I don’t know, like a month? Something like that?”

“Curious…” It was Dipper’s turn to frown, rubbing his chin in thought. “Usually, this type of ghost goes away if you just ignore them, but this might be a subclass. Let’s go find a spacious room, then we can try to see what it wants.”

Without a second thought, he headed up the stairs in a hurry. Pacifica reluctantly followed, but lagged behind a bit – she was trying to keep her steps cautious so she wouldn’t disturb any more dust than necessary. They were expensive shoes, after all… Checking a few doors, Dipper soon settled on the master bedroom. It was spacious enough for his plans – the only thing left in there was a half-broken queen-sized bed that was filling the room with an odd smell. There was nothing else… looters probably took the rest of the furniture a long time ago. “Okay… This will do.”

“What is that smell?” Pacifica grimaced as she followed him inside.

“Do you really want to find out?”

“…You know what, no. So are we doing an exorcism or something?” she asked, frowning at the bed for a second before she turned back to Dipper.

“This ghost probably has an unfinished business of some sort. In order to make sure it passes on, we’ll do a quick séance and figure out what it wants.”

“Should be simple, huh?” Pacifica rolled her eyes. “Okay, how do we do that?”

“A Category 1 ghost would have shown itself to us by now if it could, so I’m going to assume that it can’t.” Dipper explained. “We have to give it a temporary body, and then we can just ask it ourselves.”

“Temporary… what?!” Pacifica raised her voice in protest. “I didn’t agree to that!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dipper shook his head. “Besides, I’m the expert ghost hunter here, so of course the ghost will be drawn to me. Your job is to talk to it. Find out what it needs in order to pass on.”

Pacifica pouted and crossed her arms. “Ugh. Okay, fine, if you say so. Go on.”

“Right.” Dipper cleared his throat and spoke up tentatively. “So uh… hey? Ghost?”

“Is THIS your method?!” Pacifica couldn’t help letting out a chuckle.

“Ssh.” Dipper frowned at her before turning back towards the empty room. “Ghost? Are you there? We’re here to help. If you can hear me, please tell us by any means how we can help you.”

“Yeah, we’re both here to help.” Pacifica added. “Do make it quick though, I don’t want this to take all day…”

For a minute, nothing happened. The room remained as silent as they found it. After a while, the two looked at each other.

“Well.” Pacifica spoke. “Doesn’t seem like it wants us to he-AH!” Suddenly, her eyes darted wide open as she buckled over, falling onto her knees.

“Pacifica?!” Dipper took a step forward, looking startled at the girl. The next moment though, she stood up, spinning around briefly as if her legs refused to hold her up for a moment. “Pacifica, are you okay?”

Her legs wobbly and unsteady, the girl spent a few seconds trying to balance herself, as if she wasn’t used to it. She then glanced around the room, raising a hand to touch the side of her head next to her eyes before looking down again in confusion. “Oh, yeah…” She mumbled, and only then did she spot Dipper standing nearby. “Oh…!” She had a confused glee in her voice as she smiled, turning to face him. Her arms spread for a moment to help her balance before she put them behind her back and leaned in slightly. Was she… trying to look cute? “Hey there…” She spoke with a wide smile, panting the words slightly.

“Uhh…” Dipper quickly figured out what happened. “Are you… the ghost…?”

“Ehehe…” ‘Pacifica’ giggled as she looked him over, pausing on his bag, then on his face. “Why do you want to know… handsome…?”

“Subclass…” Dipper mumbled, making a mental note to add a footnote to the Category 1 page of the book. “Well, uhh… if you are, then we’re here to help.” He wasn’t used to Pacifica acting this… forward. She took a few steps, walking up to him while keeping eye contact and that smile the entire time.

“Oooh that.” she giggled again, putting a hand on her cheek. “Yeah, I uh…”

“I really thought you’d pick me, though…” Dipper added. He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “This is a bit awkward.”

“Well, if I picked you, I couldn’t be WITH you, right…?” It was like the girl couldn’t stop giggling. A nervous reaction, maybe?

“W-with me?” Dipper’s face turned a slight shade of red. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” She stepped even closer to him. Pacifica was slightly shorter than Dipper, so she had to tiptoe to face him evenly. “I was hoping someone like you would show up… You know… there was something I reeeeeeally wanted to do in life, and… well, things happened, and I could use your help with it…”

“A-ah?” Dipper did not like where this was going. “Uh, what’s that?”

“Well, you see…” Finally, the girl pulled back, now facing him from a normal distance. She looked away shyly as she blushed. “I died pretty young I guess, so I never had the chance… but I always wanted to… be with a boy…”

She said the last part rather silently, but Dipper still understood it. His eyes widened. “W-wait… what?”

The bed didn’t seem to actually smell that bad up close. Or maybe he just got used to it by then. Dipper was laying on his back, with ‘Pacifica’ cuddling up to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. One of her hands was holding his, while the other was resting on his chest. She had a content smile on her face. They were just lying there silently, until a few minutes later she finally spoke.

“This is nice.”

After a moment of hesitation, Dipper replied. “So uh… when you said you wanted to be with a… uh, nevermind. Happy you’re enjoying this.”

“Your girlfriend is so lucky.” she giggled, scooting a bit closer, her cheek rubbing against his shirt.

“Thanks, but I don’t have a girlfriend…”

“Really?” She raised her head, looking at him. “Then who’s this girl?”

“She’s just… a friend, I guess?”

“Huh.” ‘Pacifica’ leaned her head back onto his shoulder. “She sounds dumb.”

Dipper considered arguing that, but he decided not to say anything. This is for the sake of the ghost… no point getting into semantics.

A few more minutes passed in silence. The ghost didn’t want this to end anytime soon, but then she sighed in satisfaction. “Thanks for this, by the way. I’ve wanted this for… well, a very long time, and I never thought it’d be this… enjoyable. I actually feel satisfied…”

“You’re welcome.” Dipper nodded slightly, before glancing down at her. “…Wait… satisfied? You mean…”

‘Pacifica’ let out another happy sigh, then in the next moment her eyes darted open, looking startled. “What the…”

Dipper was afraid this would happen. “Uhm, I can explain…”

He tried to get up, but the hand on his chest pushed him back down. He was met with a mean glare from Pacifica as she looked up at him. “If you tell this to anyone – ANYTHING that happened here today – I’ll gut you. Understood?”

“Uh, yeah, sure… wasn’t planning to.” Dipper shook his head.

“Good.” The girl frowned, her lips pressing together at the awkwardness of the situation as she laid her head back down onto his shoulder. “Now ssh…” She whispered, closing her eyes. “Let me just stay like this for one more minute…”

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