#so like some summer and spring and fall and winter themed ones

[sheyshen]

looking at earrings on various sites and wondering just how difficult it’d be to swap some of them to clips.....

there’s so many cute earrings and i’d love to get some news ones but i don’t have pierced ears and don’t plan on piercing them either.

#i think as long as they're not studs i should be able to swap out the piercing hook with a clip? #i wanna get little ones for when i go out again #so like some summer and spring and fall and winter themed ones #i looove this one pair of snowflake earrings i had but they've gotten a bit corroded so i'm hoping to clean them up #and if i can't maybe find some nice replacements #but man good luck finding clip on earrings that don't look plasticy #i've lucked out and found a few game themed ones that have a clip option! but a lot of clip earrings have been kinda toy jewelry lookin

[stressedbisexualtm]

[< - LOTS OF WORDS - >]

trafficblr, hear me out on this:

We've all seen the idea that the life series are seasons, right? I normally see it like this: third life - winter, last life - spring, double life - summer, limited life - fall/autumn. But I think of it more like this: third life - fall, last life - winter, double life - spring, limited life - summer. Listen:

I think it would be more interesting (and true to the series) if third life was fall. The main reason people say third life is winter is of course because of the "RED WINTER IS COMING!" line, but the truth is, red winter was on its way. Red winter was coming, but first comes fall. People are more tight-knit in third life, always staying true to their real, solid, established alliance, and we see this all the way until the end of the series. It reminds me of fall, but I can't explain how. I feel like the visuals of the season match up, with the lighter greens and browns that cover most of the server, the stone of the Crastle and Dogwarts, and the tans and yellows of the desert. People are getting nervous, scared, and towards the end, more bloodthirsty than before. As the final battle of dogwarts begins, you can see the first snows of a very, very painful winter. Grian, being the winner, shares some of these traits. He's quick to judge and slow to make allies, unsure of who might betray who next. He does keep his closest ally with him until the very end, where they decide theyre going to win together no matter what. Grian, at the end, is tired of the nervousness and painful loyalty that comes with autumn. He is ready for winter to begin.

And so we move on to last life. Here, at last, is our red winter. Death is rampant and vicious here, our first red name appearing in only episode 2. Everyone is cold this season- when you're red, you're out. There are no true alliances or friends, though people tend to fall into patterns when they need to. The reds are much more bloodthirsty this season, being unable to contain themselves around anyone else (though we see our one or two exceptions). So by the time the canary falls, this season's fate is sealed in a bloodbath. No one who has made it this far is arguing that winter this year is red. This season was much more muted visually, the world being covered in dark greens, browns, and greys, as well as the snow covering a decent portion of the map (again, playing into the winter theme). Scott started the series warm, and while he never did get that bitter edge winter has, he was certainly ready to grow outward again into spring.

Double life. A brand new season, full of hope and expectancy, though that fades as time goes on (like things that only bloom in spring). It's new, it's exciting, and for some, it's full of love (as spring is typically seen). Things get intense, but there's always this air of excited mystery. Everyone has played at least one game before, so they know what to expect. Or they think they do, because at every turn there is something new. Secret soulmates? Why not! Leaving your soulmate and choosing someone else? Wonderful! FISHING A WARDEN TO DEATH?! Well, anything for the content.... Pearl, to me, also fits her season. She starts out excited to meet her soulmate, albeit a bit nervous, but she's turned away almost immediately. And, well, who could blame her if she cried? (After all, 'april showers bring may flowers', or whatever it was) She picks herself back up (a plant budding after its flower falls off) and makes it alone. She makes it to summer. And if, in the end, she learned how to plant her seeds, who was going to stop her?

And, well, limited life. Alliances, while having establishing members, are flimsy and easily remade. Everyone is wild, and spontaneous, and most people aren't really gunning to win anymore. There are go-getters, and nobody likes losing (they'd like winning even less..), but no one is playing as seriously as they were before. Everyone has played at least 2 games by now, most have played 3, and this time around dying doesn't even cost you a whole life! It only costs you 30 minutes, which out of 24 hours? Basically nothing until you hit red. Alliances shift with the wind, and not everyone is quite playing by the rules. In the end, Martyn wins. Martyn is... a wild card. He could be like summer, if he wanted to. He could be like spring, or fall, or winter. He's a traveler, a shifter, a knight, anything he needs to be. And if that doesn't go with the fluidity and changeability of this season, then I don't know who else could have won.

#is this anything #honestly i didnt really compare them to the seasons AT ALL but I hope the message was received #trafficblr #3rd life #last life #double life #limited life #life series winners #grian #scott smajor #pearlescentmoon #martyn inthelittlewood #generic talking tag

[pecanwriter]

Not Big Enough (WG story)

Themes: fantasy-setting, body worship, fat-centric society

Words: 3053

Part: 1/1

Dainon was freezing to death. He managed to survive another night, huddled behind a smithy, where the furnace's heat radiated through walls, making even the nasty winter in Grothol survivable. His exhaustion was bone-deep. Soul-deep, even. So when he managed to sneak up behind the smithy without anyone noticing, he let himself fall into a deep sleep like a fool. Had he gotten up early, before the smiths started their day, he could squeeze in another few nights in this new hiding spot. But he didn’t get up, he didn’t even try, huddled up next to the warm wall and feeling like a baby in his mother’s womb, he slept on soundly until the very moment strong, calloused hands grabbed him by the rags he called clothes and kicked him out into the main street, where mud was ice. 

He fell into a puddle, the water so unbelievably cold at first he thought it was boiling. Dainon scrambled back to his feet, already shivering. A gust of wind swept through the street, penetrating his rags completely. His trousers were more holes than they were trousers and the patchy shirt was missing one sleeve. Despite his meagre stature, the coat he was wearing was way too small for him, he suspected it might have been made for a youth. Stretching the too-small garment over himself was better than nothing in the dreadful cold, but he could feel the seams coming apart more and more every day, wind and chilled air seeping in and assaulting his malnourished body. 

Dainon was the youngest son of a relatively wealthy merchant from a port town in the south of Grothol. His father was a strict and unyielding man. To his customers, to his workers, and to his children. Dainon’s sister left the house young, got married and had children of her own. His brother joined the army and that was the last time anyone saw him. And so his father’s ambitions about keeping the business in the family came full force down on Dainon. It wasn’t that he necessarily hated commerce, he would just much rather do anything else. When he suggested to his father that maybe he could get an apprenticeship as a kitchen boy to become a cook for a wealthy lord, his father beat the idea of out his head so forcefully that Dainon never dared to voice his opinions again. 

When Dainon turned eighteen, his father decided he was ready to prove himself. He gave Dainon a horse and a cart of goods and sent him on his way to the Gothol’s lavish capital city. “Bring back three times the value of the goods, or don’t come back at all,” his father told him, and Dainon knew without a shadow of a doubt he meant it. 

He made it to the capital, he even managed to make a few transactions that would make his father’s scorn soften. But then, just as he was warming up to his role, Dainon was robbed. They took everything; the goods, the card, the horse, even his shoes. 

There was nothing left for him to sell to gain passage back home, but even if he did, he couldn’t go back. Through spring, summer and autumn he managed to scrape by somehow. There was a lot of commerce everywhere and labour workers who would slave away all day for a piece of bread and a tanker of piss-poor beer were always needed. 

But then came the winter. 

Dainon, dragging his feet, so cold he could barely walk, stumbled into one of the smaller streets where shameful business was conducted. There was a high chance one would get robbed, but he had nothing to be robbed of, and at least they wouldn’t shoo him away like the smiths. Unable to walk any further, so sick and cold he didn’t even know where the icy mud ended and he began, Dainon squeezed himself between two barrels and the side of a gambling house and waited. For death or for an opportunity to rob some drunk fool. Whichever came first.

Doors opened on the opposite side of the street and a group of people stumbled out in a cloud of perfume, smoke and ruckus laughter. 

Dainon’s exhausted, nearly delirious brain made it seem as if the warm light pouring out of the door was pure gold. He stared at the people coming out. 

It was a whore house and a good one from what he heard. The people that emerged appeared to be two whores sending their client on his way. The whores were barely wearing any clothes, seemingly unbothered by the cold. As if enchanted, Dainon stared at the whores. He stared at their plump bodies, round, blushy faces, their smiles and thick, lustrous hair. One was a woman, and one was a man, but he had tits almost as big as she did, resting on top of a big, fleshy belly swaying in front of him proudly. Their thighs jiggled and rubbed against each other as they walked, pushing the drunk client along the street to the stables where his horse presumably waited. 

Dainon’s stomach was so empty he didn’t even remember how food tasted or how it was not to be hungry all the time. Even when he was asleep, he was still completely aware of the fact he was starving. The whores were coming back and Dainon looked at their enormous backsides jiggling, at their side rolls, at their arms so plump and soft their elbows were only dimples. He couldn’t imagine how amazingly rich and filling their meals had to be for them to be so big. Another wave of nauseating hunger and paralyzing cold rattled him so hard he had to close his eyes. When he opened them again the golden light of the brothel was no longer spilling into the street and the whores were gone. Dainon wept, his tears scorching hot on his freezing face. 

The door opened again and the beautiful light spilt out. Another boy was escorting his client to the exit. He was even bigger than the first two; his tits spilling to the sides of his enormous belly and his thighs so thick and fleshy he waddled as he took the few steps to see the client out. 

Dainon stared as the whore waddled back inside and he knew that if he couldn’t see that beautiful overfed body again he would simply die. 

This really was a good brothel, he realised. To have so many well-fed whores? In Gothol fatness was the sign of good fortune and prosperity. The King was expected to go to war, so he was usually lean or muscular, but it was traditional for the King’s consort, be it a woman or a man, to be as fat as possible. The fatter the consort, the more prosperous Gorthol was. Two hundred years ago, there was a plague that nearly threatened to undo the whole country. At that time, the King’s consort was so thin he didn’t even have a belly. Nearly all portraits of him have been destroyed for fear of casting bad fortune over the land again. The upper classes followed this trend diligently, every Lord and Lady stuffed themselves to grow bigger and fatter than their rivals in court. Amongst the lower classes and peasants, it was very uncommon to see someone appropriately fleshy; they couldn’t afford it. The only truly fat, well-fed peasants were whores. The customers spent nearly as much on the services as they spent on the food they bought to keep their whore nice and plump. With a fat, well-fed whore every simple man could feel like a King for a day. 

Driven by a desperate need to survive and with the memory of that golden light filling his heart, Dainon stumbled to the brothel doors. 

A young, slim whore opened the door. His hair was long and orange like the sunset, he cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

“Go away!” He barked “There’s nothing here for the kinds of you!”

“No,  please!” Dainon rasped, his voice scratchy “I want to work. Please, I will do anything. Please.” 

“Go away…” The man started saying again, but a hand with multiple golden rings on each finger ceased his arm and pulled him inside. 

“Move away, Robin, don’t you have something to do?” A woman who was past being middle-aged, but diligently tried to keep up the appearance stood in the door. The rest of her was as richly adorned as her fingers, gold was hanging off her every body part and she seemed to float in a cloud of pipe smoke and perfume. She looked at Dainon with a shrewd, keen eye of a Madam. 

“I want to work, please.” He repeated. 

She looked him over, grabbed his chin, looked at his face from every angle, and then grabbed his arm, examining his skin, its deep umber colour stood out even more against her pinkish fingers. 

“We have enough skinny boys.” She said with finality. 

“I don’t have to be one of the skinny boys!” He blurted out, almost desperately. His merchant senses smelled an opportunity and he grabbed it immediately “You don’t have to pay me! I will work just for food until I’m big enough for you to start making good money on me.” 

She gave him a steady look and Dainon forced himself to not break the eye contact. Her poker face was good, but he could see the change taking place deep inside her mind. The ring-clad hand wrapped around his arm and he was dragged inside, into the golden light. 

“Robin, Cuckoo, wash him and help him get ready to work.” She pushed him towards a pair of whores, the red-haired one from before and another skinny one with ashen blonde hair and pale eyes. “From now on,” She said, giving him one last measuring look “Your name is Starling.” 

And Starling let the young whores lead him deep inside the golden light and warmth of the warehouse. The smell and heat filled him so completely that he felt born anew. 

*

General Forthros jumped off his horse and let out a juicy curse as his boot landed perfectly in a pool of mud.

“Hello, good sir, may I welcome you…” He tossed the reigns to the stable master along with a purse of silver coins. He was in no mood for talk. It’s been way too long and he was prickly with need. It crawled under his skin like slow-acting poison. 

This brothel was way outside of the upper district, but Forthros heard stories. He heard they had whores here like nobody dreamed of; so soft and overfed, with their enormous rumps jiggling, their soft tits resting on top of round bellies, their faces with double chins and round rosy cheeks… 

Just thinking about it made his cock stir, but he had to keep himself in check. The last brothel he heard similar stories about turned out to be ludicrously expensive and the young man they gave him didn’t even waddle. 

None of them were big enough. Just not big enough. 

He dreamed of flesh so soft and filled with fat he could sleep on it as on a pillow after he’d fucked its owner into a whimpering, needy mess. He wanted a whore who would laugh at the feast he brought with him and demanded more food. He needed a whore so fat two others would have to be called to help him stand up. 

Forthros walked across the muddy street and opened the door, stepping out of the grey, dirty world and into a land of gold, potency and sweet smells. 

“Welcome!” A woman appeared as if out of nowhere, her hands and wrist so completely covered by gold jewellery that her skin was visible only from elbows up. “We haven’t seen you before in my fantastic establishment, Lord.” She said, not able to keep the glint of greed out of her eyes as she eyed his expensive clothes and the massive basket filled to the brim with lavish, expensive foods only made in the upper city. “How can I serve you? I have everything you could wish for, every girl and every boy the absolute best quality!”

He gave her an unimpressed look. She rubbed her hands, visibly slightly worried, but not dropping her selling pitch. She pressed on:

“Will it be a girl or a boy you’d be wanting, my Lord?” 

“I want a boy. The biggest one you have.” He said. “Money is no object.” 

Her eyes were ablaze with opportunity. 

“Of course, my Lord!” She bowed deeply. “Boy, fetch Swan.” She ordered the scrawny servant. He took off down the corridor. 

Swan was appropriately named; he was tall and pale, with a long neck and rosy lips. He had a soft chest and a flabby belly, he was smiling coquettishly. Forthros stopped him with a hand. 

“Not big enough.” He said. 

The Madam shooed Swan away and he retreated with a pout. 

“Bring me Blue Jay, boy!” She ordered the servant. 

Blue Jay was likewise appropriately named; he had some Djinn blood in him which was evident by his bright blue skin and navy blue hair woven into two thick braids. He sauntered over, shaking his big, round gut and plushy thighs. Forthros was intrigued but he was just…

“Not big enough.” He repeated and the Madam tsked but shooed the Djinn’s bastard away. 

“Bring Sparrow, be quick about it!” She snapped and the servant ran. 

Sparrow was brown-skinned and brown-eyed. His tits were big and soft, falling on top of a prominent, soft belly that swayed in front of him as he walked. His legs were thick and swollen, and Forthros' dick hardened as he saw him waddle up. This one was beautiful, but…

“Not. Big. Enough.” He said, looking the Madam right in the eyes. 

A sly, appreciative smile spread across her face. She slapped Sparrow’s jiggly ass, sending him away. 

“I see you are a connoisseur.” She said, bowing in acknowledgement. “Follow me.” 

He followed. They passed an open room full of whores killing time, waiting for clients. He spotted Sparrow sprawled on a mountain of pillows, idly popping sugar-coated grapes into his mouth. Forthros’ cock stirred again. If the Madam’s most priced possession didn’t prove to be satisfactory, he’d come back for Sparrow. 

The madam stopped in front of a door and opened it with a flourish. 

“This,” she said theatrically “is Starling. But he’s not cheap.” 

Forthros had to rest a hand against the door to keep himself upright, almost dropping the feast in the basket to the floor. He put it down with reverence at his feet and fished a purse out from his inside pocket, tossing it blindly at the Madam, still unable to look away from the sight before him. There was more coin in the purse that she probably made off all her whores in a day and they both knew it.

“Enjoy, Lord.” She bowed deeply and closed the door behind herself. 

The man on the bed, Starling, was a vision out of a dream. No, he was more beautiful than any dream Forthros ever had. 

He had dark umber skin that seemed covered with scented oils and perfumes that floated around the room. His dark hair was curled and adorned with gold, and two enormous emeralds hung on his ears. He was so big his hips spanned almost the entire width of the bed. Forthros took in the beautiful flesh, overstuffed to the brim with fat and folding on itself in fascinating, enchanting ways. Starling’s legs were shapeless as if formed of hefty sacks of jiggly fat folding in on themselves with the swollen feet at the end that Forthros doubted touched the floor often. The beautiful legs were spread wide to accommodate the gargantuan mass of Starling’s belly, that pooled in front of him like a see of soft flesh. Forthros couldn’t see a belly button but he guessed it was buried deep underneath fat where the upper and lower fat fold of Starling’s belly met. His breasts were blubbery and saggy, pushed to the sides by the improbable accumulation of soft flesh on Starling’s midriff. The nipples were dark and stretched and Forthros could feel his entire body tingling. Starling’s robust arms rested at almost acute angles to his body, unable to land any lower for the numerous chunky fat folds pushing outwards at his sides. His shoulders and chest were so thoroughly encased in fat he almost had no neck. His face was round, with incredible, fleshy cheeks and multiple chins. 

This was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man Forthros had ever seen, but what struck him most, was the man’s face. He was beautiful, of course, with a slightly hunched nose and wide-set dark eyes. But that wasn’t what it was, still. The striking thing was the expression on that angelic face. His plump lips were stretched into a smirk that seemed to hold all the secrets of the world in it and the dark eyes that stared at Forthros from underneath dark, heavy lashes were sharp like a fox’s. Quick wits and shrewdness were immediately apparent in that gaze. That, and immense satisfaction. Just his face alone seemed to be saying “I am everything you ever wanted and I know it.” 

The biggest whore he had before this, many years ago, was somewhere between Sparrow’s and Starling’s size, he was beautiful but the food had dulled his mind. His eyes were always glazed over, sleepy, almost unresponsive; he saw this happen to some people when the food was too much for their bodies to handle and they seemed almost dim-witted. Although that man was beautiful, Forthros couldn’t bring himself to fuck him, he didn’t want to fuck someone who barely knew what was happening. 

But Starling… Starling was perfect. 

Forthros swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, his cock almost painfully hard.

“I’ve brought you a feast, beautiful.” He said, hauling the enormous basket overflowing with the greatest delicacies Grothol had to offer to the bed. “I hope such a feast is to your liking?” 

Starling looked at the basket and then, looking straight into Forthros’ eyes with an almost devilish grin he said: 

“Not big enough.” 

#wg story #gainer fiction #gainer writing #wg writing #gaining fiction #weight gain story #weight gain #gainer story #chubby boy #fantasy weight gain #wg txt #wg text #bbm #bhm #bhm weight gain #fat bhm #male feedism #Weight gain story #Weight gain txt #Weight gain writing

[aplaceinthedark]

LOOKING for the MEANING

chapter one: Old Friends, Same Disease

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm. 

Word Count: 2777

CW: supernatural themes, attempted B&E, mentions of dead bodies, body horror

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

Featured Creatures:

@ladyveronikawrites @lilhobgobbler @deathblacksmoke @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera

@rottingfern @roley-poley-foley

I learned pretty quickly that Shenandoah Spring never wanted to come when it was told.

I’d heard about “Fake Spring” once or twice from a distant cousin that lived on the other side of the Blue Ridges. The First Day of Spring had come and gone, yet I was certain that some mornings it was still the middle of winter. Mornings like those, I was glad I had a space heater in my bed.

The space heater being my partner, Nicholas Ruffilo.

How most nights he was able to sleep wearing only a shirt and shorts was beyond me. No matter how many blankets I would pile on, or how far I snuggled under his body, I could never get warm. Not that we would complain about the closeness, since some nights felt like they were colder and darker than others.

Tonight was one of those nights - but unfortunately, I was alone.

Night terrors weren’t new to me. Before I left Newport News, I had been warned of the many side effects of PTSD and Survivor’s Guilt. I had been plagued with them constantly until I moved to New Hope, and then they had all but vanished when Nick and I started sleeping together.

Tonight, it was just me and the cats, as Nick had gone to Richmond for the weekend to see his mom. I had stayed behind this time, saying that I was never really alone with our friends in the woods. But now, I was starting to regret my decision.

Usually my night terrors involved the Accident that had happened almost two years ago, but tonight had been different. Instead of Michael’s body, lying lifeless in front of me, it was Nick’s, almost exactly how it had looked last summer. It was an image I hadn’t wanted to ever revisit, but it seemed like tonight my subconscious wanted me to rehash it.

And that’s why I was currently standing on my front porch, alone in the dark.

I took a drag from the joint we had stashed away in our “Medical Emergencies Only: KEEP OUT FOLIO” stash, AKA when we needed to calm down. Despite it being three in the morning, the woods surrounding my house was lively, defying the chill that seemed to permeate everything. I glanced over at the trees, taking in how the moon made them cast long shadows that seemed to claw their way across my lawn.

I no longer feared what those shadows hid.

Which reminded me… I peered behind me, casting my eyes down at the offering plate. It no longer sat down on the porch next to the door, like it was a water bowl for an outside dog. I had put it up on its own little table so as to keep it from getting buried underneath the snow. It held some cookies right now, wrapped in tinfoil to keep the raccoons from getting to them. The fact that they were still there meant Noah or the other two haints hadn’t stopped by to take the offering. 

I no longer woke up when one of them would stop by, though a couple of times I would when I felt Nick leave the bed, but I would just quickly fall back asleep after. Some mornings I would wake up to see that Folio had dumped himself either on the living room couch or the bed in the spare bedroom, snoring away.

As I scrolled away on my phone, I felt the air around me go still. It made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. It was a common sign that one of the boys was near, so I looked up to greet whomever it was. 

Indeed, there was something in the woods, lurking just at the edge of my property line, where the grass turned into the Weeds. I couldn’t exactly see it, just a faint outline, like those games Nicholas likes to play, when the screen says to turn the brightness down until you can't see the image. The presence lingered there for a long time.

I rolled my eyes. “Hello, Noah,”  I called out, putting out the joint in the porch ashtray.

There was only silence in return, and the patch of darkness didn't move. I narrowed my eyes. “Whatever you're doing, Noah, you can do it either on my lawn or fuck off. I'm not in the mood for this tonight,” I snapped.

Nothing.

Unease curled in me. "Jolly? Nick?” I said, using Joakim’s nickname and Folio’s first name, respectively. I tried to keep the fear slowly creeping into me out of my voice, but I don’t think I did a very good job of it.

When I still didn't receive a response, I called out to the shadow with that weird mental connection Noah had with everyone. Noah?

WHAT?

The annoyance in his voice at my intrusion was not helping my panic. Are you anywhere near the house right now?

There was a small pause before he replied,

NO, I'M UP IN THE MOUNTAINS. FOLIO’S ON HIS WAY. WHY?

The second he said the word, No, I was immediately running back into the house. It didn't matter that Noah was still in my head, demanding that I tell him what was going on. I startled the small calico cat awake with the sound of the door slamming shut, causing her to angrily meow at me.

“Shh!” I quietly told Lydia, reaching over to pull the curtains shut. I had barely drawn one set when I heard the front steps outside creak as something put its weight down on them. I immediately dropped down into a crouching position, my back pressed against the door. Lydia was smarter, trodding off back to my bedroom.

Staying as still and quiet as possible, I could just barely hear what was going on on the other side of the door. It sounded like wet rasping, intermixed with some clicking noise. If that was the sound of nails hitting wood, there was no way that was Folio in his Grim form. 

The sound continued for several more minutes, pacing back and forth slowly. The sound would fade off, and I would think it was safe to get up until it paced the other way. I was getting lightheaded from holding my breath for long periods of time. 

That’s when I heard a new sound: metal being disturbed. Was… whatever it is... stealing the offering plate?

I was so focused on listening for the sound again that the knock on my door nearly had me falling over. I couldn't help the yelp that slipped out. I froze, scared that it would alert the monster outside, but then a familiar voice piped up. “Taylor, it's me. Open the door,” Noah said.

I slowly stood up, heading towards the peep hole to check, when I heard the same voice say inside my head, 

DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR! THAT'S NOT ME!

The doorknob rattled vigorously, as if the thing heard Noah. I felt a small surge of pride at having the wherewithal to deadbolt the door when I ran in, but it quickly evaporated when the door violently shook in its frame. I backed away from it until there was a loud bang, as if it threw its body against it, and an unearthly shriek pierced my eardrums. I bolted for the bathroom.

FOLIO'S ALMOST THERE.

I shut and locked the door, and then clambered into the tub before drawing the shower curtain. I then curled up into a ball to wait it out.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours until I heard the sound of heavy paws beating against the forest floor, like someone was beating out a fast tempo on a kickdrum. Then, sounds of snarling and shrieking filled the air, causing a small sob of what was almost relief to escape me. Then, quiet.

“Taylor?”

I froze at what sounded like Nick Folio’s voice, calling out loud enough that I could hear him. "It's safe now. I'm coming in, alright?"

I climbed out of the bathtub and made my way out into the hall. It just so happened that at the same time, Folio was closing the front door behind him. Dark blood dropped from his lips onto the eagle tattooed on his chest, but I knew that he was the real Folio. Only occupants could come into my house.

I nearly tripped over my shaking legs, but I ran over to him and threw my arms around him. He answered in kind, holding me in comfort.

“I got it, don’t worry. It won't hurt you,” he said, smoothing my rumpled hair as if trying to soothe a wild animal. His nose then pressed to the shaved skin above my ear and I heard him sniffing.

"I was smoking before this happened," I admitted sheepishly.

“Obviously,” he said. He sounded a little disappointed.

That's when I heard the sound of trees being disturbed. “Go clean up,” I said, unwinding myself from Folio.

“Can do.” He patted my backside as he passed me to walk to the bathroom.

I pulled open the door and stepped onto the porch. Only the signs of the struggle were apparent. Nothing was broken, and the only things left behind were nail marks and small tufts of silvery-white fur, which I knew had belonged to Folio. He hadn’t looked raked, so it must not have caught his skin. Whatever the thing had been, there was no sign of it.

In the periphery of my vision, a tall shadow emerged from deep within the woods. As it got closer, it shrunk down to a somewhat normal size of a human. The branch-like antlers seemed to emerge from the treeline before his tattooed body did. It almost seemed like his arrival was accompanied by the sound of a cold wind skittering dead leaves across the ground.

“Jesus Christ,” Noah Sebastian, the Watcher of the Woods, swore. “What the hell did you go and do now?”

NOAH

It was something Noah hadn't seen in a long time. 

Folio didn't leave it in one piece, but Noah could tell what it was just by looking at some of the bits. Almost white, hairless, a dried up husk. Its eyes were missing, but Noah knew it had already been like that. These things never had eyes, even back when he was under the old Watcher's control.

That was what worried him: the fact that this thing was here in the first place. He was wracking his brain over when he could have possibly left a corpse rot in the woods when he heard the front door of the house open. He dropped the pale thing to the ground and shifted into his more human form. Years later and he still felt the pain of his “bones snapping to fit inside a body half his actual size.

Taylor looked dead on their feet, and when he stepped onto the porch, they nearly collapsed against him. He steered them back in the house, forcing them to sit on the couch. He waited until they caught their breath to start interrogating.

“Tell me what happened,” he demanded. He knew a little bit from the panic that made Taylor practically throw the situation through the mental pipeline he had with everyone, but he couldn't actually see what happened through their eyes.

As they told him what happened, Noah listened intently. Normally, they had a relationship that bordered on squabbling siblings, but when it came to the safety of the woods and those he considered his “inner circle”, he was as serious as a heart attack. 

As he began to ask a question, he heard the shower water turn off. “Do you still have that camera hooked up outside?”

“Yeah. I don't have the motion sensor notify me everytime, since you guys would wake me up at three in the morning,” Taylor said. They pulled out their phone.  

“Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep,” Noah said. He saw their eyes roll. 

Folio then came out of the bathroom, wearing sweats. He shook his head vigorously, sending water droplets flying. “Did you see what it was?” he asked. 

“Yeah, what little you left.”

“Hey! I didn't eat the whole thing! That shit was nasty!” Folio protested. 

Folio sometimes thought with his stomach rather than his head. It didn't help that Noah let him eat whatever he found sometimes, but that had to stop after he nearly ate Taylor the first time they went into the woods and got lost. It didn't prevent him from starving, though. Between some of the wild animals he'd catch, or whatever leftovers Nicholas would leave for him, he was eating pretty good. He was, after all, a twenty-five year- old stuck in a seventeen year-old body. 

“There's still cookies on the offering plate,” Taylor mumbled as they scrolled through camera footage. 

“Ooh, sweet!”

“Save some for Jolly!” Noah called over his shoulder as Folio bound for the front door. 

Taylor's shoulders slumped a little bit. “Come here,” he sighed, wrapping a long arm around them and pulling them into his wide torso. He was catching onto their moods quicker. He noticed that they liked stability and normality after stuff like this happened. 

And to think, he nearly killed them last year, too.

“Do you want one of us to stay with you until Nick gets home?” Noah asked. He felt them nod against his chest, leaving something wet behind. He sighed again, and kissed the top of their head. 

“I'll stay,” Folio said, mouth full. 

“The fuck did I just say?”

“I SAVED YOU AND JOLLY SOME!”

Noah heard a semi-hysterical giggle escape from Taylor. “Did you manage to find where the attack began?” he asked them. 

Taylor held up their phone, and Noah pressed play. He watched as Taylor ran into the house, and a few moments later the thing slowly crawled onto the porch. He moved the phone, but Taylor grabbed his wrist and held him fast. They wanted to see the monster too.

From the angle the camera was at, it looked like a hairless dog with too long hind legs. It loped around on all fours, back and forth on the porch several times. After a few minutes, Folio in his Grim form popped into frame, causing Taylor to jump, and he clamped his jaws onto the creature. 

“What is it?” Taylor asked. 

“I called them Pale Things. They're what happens to people who die in the woods,” Noah said. “I haven't seen them since the old Watcher would leave bodies left and right.”

“D-Do you know how tall they are when they stand up?” Taylor asked. 

Noah frowned at the odd question. “Why?” he asked. 

“Because something was standing at the edge of the woods, and this… Pale Thing seems too small to be that.”

Noah recalled when they had woken him. “Are you anywhere near the house?” They had mistaken this thing for him? That seemed impossible. 

So there might be something else out there. 

“Call Nick. I'm gonna get Jolly and we'll look around for anything,” Noah said. He then took the tin foil packets from Folio. “If anything that's not us or Nick comes within a hundred-foot radius of this property, fuck it up.” 

Folio grinned, making his sharp teeth more pronounced. “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

Noah stood up, patting Taylor on the head in a way that he knew would annoy them. “Go back to sleep, Lil’ Rabbit. I'll be back with the sunrise.” He then walked out of the house that had once been his. 

With every step he took towards the woods, he transformed into a more comfortable form. His body stretched and grew as vines and branches broke through his skin, wrapping around his arms and legs. Bark and moss formed over that as if mocking clothes, but would break at his joints with a loud cracking sound. As he disappeared past the treeline, melting in with the other trees, his skull broke free and melded together so he no longer move his jaw. But the antlers remained; in fact, they grew to impressive lengths.

To some, he was monstrous. 

To him, he was The Watcher of the Woods.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf #bad omens au #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #nick folio fanfiction #paranormal au #series: lost in the labyrinth #fic: looking for the meaning

[tired-biscuit]

Bite

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Kiba/fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 18+ mdni, modern AU // werewolf!kiba, monsterfucking, size kink, biting kink, breeding, unprotected sex, slight a/b/o themes [mf has a knot], pregnancy talk, mentions of blood. established relationship, they are very cute.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 10.5k

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗻, 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘀. 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲'𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴!!

𝗞𝗜𝗕𝗔 decides to share his secret with you on Halloween. 

He doesn’t know why he wants to tell you on October 31st, exactly. Perhaps it is that the matter at hand is rather fitting for the spooky season, or maybe because the last two functioning brain cells inside his head are telling him that you’ll be able to cope with it better this way – his peculiar way of thinking is something that nobody but him seems to make sense of.

So, it takes Kiba four years and three months to make the final decision. It may seem like a long time to some, but to him the years pass by swiftly. He spends them all by learning about how your mind functions and by gathering his wits. By hiding every full moon and ghosting you completely with zero explanation. By persuading himself that that same mind he is so very fond of picking apart and piecing back together, will be the one that will accept him for who – what – he is. 

And as spring turns to summer and autumn falls victim to the icy clutches of winter, Kiba stalls. Year after year, your relationship grows like a sturdy vine taking over the walls of an abandoned building with the change of the seasons. The cycle repeats itself for the second, third, fourth time around, and Kiba still keeps changing his mind. 

He almost tells you sooner than planned, but then he worries. Grows agitated because of said worrying. Stalls even more. Almost gives up, and thus nearly abandons you as a result at some point as well.

You don’t know anything about that, of course.

But no matter what he picks and chooses, something makes him stay put. Kiba can’t quite explain the reasoning as to why. It might be that he’s immensely loyal. Or the fact that he’s in love. Maybe you’re his person. Perhaps it’s in his blood. He doesn’t know what it is, but he lingers because of it. Wraps his arms around you and falls even deeper. So deep, in fact, that he can’t possibly find his way back to the surface and moral reasoning anymore. 

And because of it, he feels scared when the day he has to tell you his secret finally comes. Absolutely petrified. But he trusts you now, he’s positive about that. Nearly half a decade of being so close has done its job. 

And he hopes, nearly prays to a god he’s long since lost belief in, that after all of this is over, you’ll still trust him, too.

—

Much to Kiba’s misfortune, that doesn’t happen.

You don’t trust him anymore.

“Oh, my… You we-were actually being serious for once, huh?” The words are spoken barely above a whisper by someone who you think is you, despite that you swear you’re on the brink of screaming your lungs out. 

Everything is quiet chaos. Standing in the middle of your bedroom, it’s a struggle to breathe properly; you can’t even get an exhale out, much less a shout. The moment your boyfriend’s supposed prank turns out to be a truth so gruesome that it makes your jaw drop, you’re feeling like your legs are giving in. To say you were on the verge of fainting would be an understatement. 

You feel like you’re going to die.

It all happens exactly how he’s told you it would, but that doesn’t help. Staring at the thing that used to be your boyfriend just mere moments before the pale moonlight had seeped past the curtains, you still find yourself frozen into place from the shock and terror that begin to course your veins in fast, pulsating waves.

The movie you were watching together on your laptop is still playing. Background music and dialogue fills the tense air between you and is the only sound present besides his deep breathing and the ferocious pounding of your heart; which you swear you can feel climbing up your throat now. 

The movie is playing – time certainly hasn’t stopped. But you wish it did.

He’s just so big, after all. Huge in every aspect, he’s nothing like himself and you’re barely keeping pieces of your sanity sticking together because of the intimidating stature he possesses now. He’s broad, the slopes of his shoulders are potent and the curve of his biceps is so defined that you’d have trouble wrapping both hands around just one. There’s no way your fingers would touch whilst hugging it – you’re positive.

And goodness, he is heavy. So fucking heavy, in fact, that the mattress sinks below him, and the wooden framing of the bed gives a prolonged creak of protest because of the triggering weight when he picks himself up. 

Watching them stretch and relax repeatedly, you suppose you’re used to seeing the strong limbs and the rippling muscle, even if it currently hides underneath thick, coarse fur. And it may be just a hint of familiarity soothing you now, but panic still flashes through your very soul when he stumbles on his hind legs as soon as his feet land on your carpeted flooring. 

Standing at his full height, your boyfriend – or rather the thing that used to be your boyfriend – appears even taller now. Its enormous stature makes dread trickle down the back of your sweaty neck, because god-fucking-damn it; the top of its head is nearly touching the fucking ceiling. 

But it's still Kiba, or that’s at least what you keep telling yourself. This creature is still your lover, even if his clothes are torn and his entire body is sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the furniture of your bedroom that just appears toyish when compared to him. 

And now, his arms flail around in the same manner his tail does. Wagging from side to side, it’s a brief moment of alarm as he attempts to catch his balance like a toddler learning to walk for the first time. But he’s not a child; he isn’t even human. Every clumsy footstep he takes on the carpet is like a dull thud of thunder because of how hefty he is. It seems that even he, himself, isn't quite used to his new body just yet. And it’s almost cute in a way.

Almost. 

Still, cute or not, the entire situation makes your breath hitch and forces you to take a cautious step back when he turns towards you at long last and just looks at you. 

Staring right back at him, you’re not sure if you like having his attention on you all of a sudden. So you stand more firmly, lift your hands into a shield of sorts – as if that could fucking stop this monster of a wolfman if he ever did make the decision to tear you to shreds and swallow you whole – and just breathe.

You just can’t help it. Stepping back and causing more distance feels like a survival instinct, because he is just that – a monster. You don’t do it on purpose, it seems, but the reason for it is because of the more uncanny features he possesses. And those features frighten you right to the bone, whether you want them to or not.

The tail is on top of that list of reasons, of course. But it’s also the eerie height. How he stands and walks like a human, but isn’t one. The triangle-shaped ears atop his head and the set of honed claws on each broad, paw-like hand. The chestnut fur. How his eyes are now yellow instead of a golden brown. 

Speaking of his eyes: they glow in the silvery moonlight. The pupils inside dilate sideways whenever a shadow crosses them, and both are so sharp that they’d do a better job at piercing through you than the point of the sharpest blade ever could. 

The thought makes your skin pull taut and your heartbeat thump inside your mouth this time around. You can feel it rattling behind your teeth, which you’re clenching so hard that your entire jaw is beginning to hurt. Even the saliva that has gathered on top of your tongue is hard to swallow from how thick it’s become laced with fear now. 

Your entire body is shouting at you to run away.

But you can’t run. You’ve sprouted roots into the ground by giving him the promise of staying no matter what happens, and you simply can’t break it; can’t run. You’re here to stay, because perhaps you’re even more loyal than he is.

So it’s just you. 

And the werewolf.

The big bad werewolf.

“H-Hey,” you croak out feebly after what seems like ages, upper lip trembling in pure fear. He’s still staring at you; unmoving. Just breathing in and out, in and out, in and out. Other than the rise and fall of his shoulders, he’s so still that it’s making you feel on edge. “You–...” Your brow furrows as you try again, “You in there, Kiba?”

The sound of his name being spoken into the air makes him perk up. And it’s feeble relief that washes over you now as you finally release a shuddering breath. Like a sign that your boyfriend remembers at least some part of his human psyche, you watch as one of his ears twitches before he tilts his head to the side like your neighbour’s German Shepherd tends to do whenever it snows outside for the first time. 

It’s curiosity in its finest form, but despite him recognizing his name, you’re still worried. Especially because that curiosity makes him come closer. Makes his attention shift solely onto you ever so slowly; the only living, breathing thing left inside this house besides him.

You certainly hope it’ll stay that way by the end of the night. With both of you still breathing.

Because footstep after footstep, Kiba’s balance goes from inept to completely fine by the time he backs you up against the wall and just keeps staring at you. 

The yellow in his irises makes his eyes sublime. Shadows dance inside them as he approaches, turning them dark then light again. The size difference between you is so profound that he has to stoop down just to reach eye level with you. Practically looming over you, you feel like you’re about to start crying any second.

His pupils dilate immediately after eye contact is established and your own turn foggy from the tears that are beginning to gather at your waterline, threatening to spill. Black consumes the yellow; swallows it whole. Until you can nearly see yourself in the reflection of the void.

And even if he’s told you what to expect when he’s like this, even if you’ve nodded and laughed at the warnings he’s tried to get across because you couldn’t have possibly taken them seriously: as soon as you come face to face with this supernatural being, you’re simply terror-struck.

And you don’t trust this being. Don’t trust it at all.

But every moment is used for his benefit. He’s starting to learn about your mannerisms. You’re standing still as a statue, fear lacing your scent so profoundly that he feels the need to dip in and hide his face into the crook of your neck just so he can smell it better. 

So seconds pass: one, two, three. He breathes in your scent so that he can memorize it. Rests a paw on the curve of your hip as gently as he’s able, even though you can still feel its immense weight and the way the claws dig into your skin right through your t-shirt despite the mellow effort. He can’t retract them, but they’re still so sharp that you have no doubt he could tear right through the thin cotton in mere seconds if he wanted to, along with everything else underneath.

Your stomach twists because of it. If he scratches or cuts you by accident and smells your blood as a result, you have no clue what’ll happen. He’s never told you about that possibility. 

And perhaps it’s just a gut feeling, but something tells you he had good reason for it.

Eyes blown wide, shoulders shaking with the fast-paced, never-ending series of inhales and exhales that you can’t seem to slow down for the life of you, you’re letting out a quivering whimper that makes your entire face twist in reluctant disturbance. He’s just too close, too unnatural. Too demanding to know you better, and thus too pushy.

So you try to push him away to cause more distance between your bodies because you can’t focus, can’t breathe. But holy fuck, every hair on your body prickles and stands up to attention when instead of having him take a step back, you just hear him growl in response.

He doesn’t like that; the snarl and the flash of big, sharp teeth tells you all you need to know as his upper lip curls and reveals the gleaming white underneath. Doesn’t appreciate you shoving him away like he’s unwanted and scary, when all he wants to do is to be close to you and just breathe you in. Just that, he isn’t even thinking about hurting you. 

But you don’t know that. Can’t understand him either.

Listening to the growl as it slowly dies down, it’s a quiet sort of sound that comes from the depths of his chest and rumbles in the back of his throat. Like the noise a dog makes before it’s about to go absolutely nuts at any given second, except that it’s deeper, more threatening; a warning to come from a provoked beast much larger than your poor self. The series of vibrations it sends through you makes your teeth rattle inside your skull and your skin pull even tighter over your bones from how deeply it fazes you.

And when you whimper out of fear again, the tears spilling over your hot cheeks, it makes him freeze. You’re scared – scared of him – so he pulls back, looks at your sweat-riddled face, as well as the fright it exhibits, and looses a freaking sigh now.  As if he’s upset by your reaction, perhaps even disappointed, the low grumble to follow right afterwards only adds to the discontent he feels for you.

And you; you’re staring up at him, sniffling and trying to blink away the blur in your eyes now whilst your entire body is literally shaking. 

He’s the one that’s displeased? After scaring the literal shit out of you and making you cry, he is the one that gets to grumble about it like some senile, old grandpa whenever his grandkids get caught doing something naughty? You can’t believe the nerve of this man. Wolf. Wolfman? Werewolf.

It seems that Kiba remains a crabby douche no matter what form he’s in. And it is him; your grouchy boyfriend is actually still somewhere in there – looking at you worryingly through pupils that remind you of a cat’s, and owning a body so powerful that it could turn your entire house to rubble if it went on a rampage.

“I-I’m sorry,” you choke out at the thought, carefully reaching out to place your hand on his chest again, but this time to appease him instead of shoving him away and provoking him again. “I just–... I wasn’t expecting this, ‘kay? Try and understand how I feel about this.”

Just breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe – in and out. He’s less scary already. 

He perks up at your words again, his paw covering your hand entirely when he presses it more closely to his heart so that you can feel the rhythm of his pulse better. The knuckles are nearly human, as well as the digits that bend and curl over your own now; just covered in fur and equipped with those menacing claws you’re still continuously flicking a wary eye towards every few seconds.

Fingers tangling into rough chestnut fur, his heartbeat is so strong and other-wordly that it makes you sick in a way. It beats faster than any human heart – rhythm quick and potent enough that it kisses the pads of your fingers every time it hits.

It’s like the damn muscle is jumping and bouncing off the sides of his ribcage as he grumbles once more in answer, this time more in agitation than anything else. He can’t even speak proper English with you, or any other human language whatsoever, and yet you’re starting to understand him perfectly just from the faces he’s making and the noises of irritation coming from the back of his throat every once in a while.

“What,” you whisper, feeling dizzy from the heat his body gives off, “what is it?” It’s as if his very blood has come to a boil, is starting to sizzle like oil on a frying pan underneath all of that muscle and skin. He’s practically burning up, warming your entire bedroom by merely existing. It’s making your vision spin before your very eyes.

So he clutches your hand harder when you look like you’re about to faint; pushes it even closer to his heart. And when you look more stable, like the touch grounds you in a way, he circles his free paw around his face – that uncanny, strange face – and presses it to your own chest. To your own heart.

“What?” His hand, if you could call it that, is so big that it covers the entirety of your ribcage. Thumb to pinky; he’s touching you from one end to the other. You have trouble breathing at the realization of his immense size. “Is there so-something wrong with my heart?”

He shakes his head in answer. Repeats the action of circling his face, but then he stops and pauses for a moment. Contemplates. Pointing to his twitching ear this time around, he does it a few times before pressing the paw to your heart again.

Puzzled, you blink at him, attempting to understand what he’s miming to you as he starts pointing to his ear again. “Are you… Are you saying that you can hear my heart?”

He nods feverishly now, tapping his digits against the middle of your chest a couple of times in the exact same rhythm your heart beats inside your ears, paying heed that he doesn’t strike you with his claws by accident.

“It’s fast, yeah,” you mumble hesitantly. “Nothing like yours, though.”

And now, much to your surprise, he whines in reply; sounding like a little puppy when it yawns with that squeal-ish sort of sound. As if he’s not happy at all with your statement.

Your brow quirks because of it. “You don’t like that it’s fast?”

Kiba shakes his head again.

“Why?”

You frown when he just points to his face again and drops his eyes to the floor. He taps you over your heart only once this time; gently. Like he’s afraid he might break you in two if he uses any more force, the click of his claws only gives you more proof that he could. 

And it’s sort of soothing – him caring enough to be this cautious. It calms you, coaxing you to warily place your hand upon his own and say, “I’m not scared of you anymore, Kiba.”

You mean it. Even if your body is still stiff as a board; you mean it.

But all he does is grumble again. Incoherent, rumbling sounds that make you chuckle almost as his tail drops limp between his legs. Your lips are twitching as you speak again, “I’m serious, my heart is beating so fast only ‘cause I love you so much, and ‘cause I’m worried about you. I mean, baby, you have a tail, for Christ’s sake. Come to think of it… Does it hurt when it grows out?”

What a lucky girl you are, your statement makes him growl for a third time as his paw drops from your chest and rests on the curve of your hip instead. If he weren’t so big and unpredictable, you’d bash his head in for being so fussy. “Stop making that noise, y-you’ve gotta cut me some slack! At least I didn’t run away and called the cops! Or, ya know… Animal control, since you’re… Well… Yeah.”

The look he gives you now just spells that sarcastic ‘Funny.’ even though he really is more animal than human. He’s nearly slouching, curving his broad back just to remain face to face with you, and when you’re about to open your mouth to retaliate, because being witty is just how you’ve decided to cope and be comfortable around him, nothing but a squeak pushes past your lips instead.

Because now, Kiba lifts you up – so swiftly and effortlessly that you’re amazed in a way, even if it’s nothing surprising if you take his sheer size into consideration. Paws wrapping around your hips, you can feel his claws dig into the plush fabric of your pyjama shorts, but never tearing, as he tosses you over his shoulder and just keeps you there. 

Like you’re some damsel in distress, hell like he’s Bowser and you’re Princess Peach; he carries you across the room as if you’re light as a feather.

You squeak out this high-pitched sort of noise when he throws you onto the bed. Squirming around, you try to back up against the headboard, but he grabs you by the ankle and just pulls you closer as he falls onto the mattress himself.

Nearly cringing at the second creek of protest the wooden framing gives to his weight, your own objections are stifled as his arms wrap around you like armor and he attempts to make himself seem smaller – badly. One paw-like hand rests on your middle now, giving you a single push until you’re firmly pressed against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat thumping right against your spine now. It nearly makes the discs rattle from how strong it is.

And even his tail is wrapping around your hip in almost a protective manner now; warming you up with the heat of his body and the thickness of his fur. You’re sweating after mere seconds, the coat of salt thickening the glaze that’s already there as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and just starts breathing in your scent again.

It’s like he’s addicted to the way you smell. Even with the initial tension gone, every grunt that reverberates down your spine is still chill-inducing despite the heat.

Laying next to him in the dark, the rational part of your consciousness screams at you to run and never look back. How you should feel scared; caged in from the way he wraps himself around you and holds you in place. But you don’t. Goddammit, you just don’t. You’ve known him for too long, and he’s just too sweet, even if he looks equally as bitter.

However, when you attempt to turn around to look at him again, he just growls once more. The same as the first time, it’s a warning, but it doesn’t scare you like it did the first time.

Your voice is calm because of it now, “You don’t want me to see you anymore?”

Paw leaving your middle for the briefest moment, you exhale a sigh at how cool his lack of touch feels now as he points at the laptop that’s still laying open on your bed. His body temperature is so high that it makes you burn all over when he touches the sliver of bare skin on your belly.

You swallow the thick saliva that’s gathered inside your mouth again. “The movie, right… Watching movies until you change back, or I fall asleep. Just like you’ve said.” 

Fuck, when he pats your stomach in approval and grunts, it just makes you sweat even more. You shouldn’t be thinking about this sort of thing, now should you? About how it’d feel if he were to stroke the naked skin, not just linger on it… If he were to lick it, too. His tongue is probably rougher than normal. It’d hurt, wouldn’t it? Or would it feel good? Oh, and how would it feel if he were to trace your skin with those claws just enough to make you antsy?

As the thoughts ensue, your toes are curling from embarrassment, expectation, arousal – you, yourself, don’t even know from what. This entire thing is so confusing. Are you seriously attracted to a fucking werewolf, or is the heat that’s pooling between your legs only there because this is something new and exciting, and it’s your boyfriend that’s the beast? 

The curiosity of humans truly is a wonder. It’s like you truly want to fuck everything that comes your way.

But it seems that Kiba knows what you’re feeling even if you don’t, or perhaps he can smell the change of hormones that lace your blood now. Because as soon as your dainty fingers lightly begin to trace his own thicker ones, seemingly all coy and innocent, he starts to stroke your naked skin in return, too. Gentle swipes that nevertheless make your breath hitch in the back of your throat, he’s sighing at the way your thighs squeeze together in response to his touches.

You’re slowly becoming drenched; he can smell the dopamine on you. The amount is big enough to make his thoughts fuzzy and his dick hard. God, he wants to suck the hormones right out of you.

So he lets his fingers travel higher. Lifts the hem of the shirt you’re wearing with one sharp claw and reaches just the underside of your breast as he strokes even more tenderly. Same movements, different pace and intensity, because he needs to be careful if he wishes to keep you intact and whole.

Minutes pass. He’s stupid, so he’s somehow ended up with both of your tits in his hands; squeezing the fat and flicking the cute nubs ever so gently. Making you squirm. Listening to your quick, little breaths. You’re so needy that it’s amusing in a way.

However, he grunts the moment you roll your hips against his own. Your smell turns him insatiable – you just smell so fucking good, it’s not fair – so he bucks his hips forward and ruts into you once, twice, but then stops immediately when you mewl something delightfully submissive in response and arch your back to feel him even better over your flimsy shorts.

Shit. That sounded so good that it made his ears perk up.

But he’s so big when he’s like this and you’re so small. The ridge of his semi-hard cock that presses against your clothed cunt is already so massive that there is no way your tiny human body would be able to take him in – it is quite literally impossible, no matter how badly you want it to happen. Too enormous for your sweet little pussy, he’d ruin you completely with just one pump if he was to become completely turned on. And you don’t even have a clue about the knot.

Holy fuck, the knot – how could he forget. His heart is racing now at the thought of you taking it willingly, it’s insane how fast it is as he releases you and points towards the laptop again with somewhat shaky digits. 

It’s better to stop early. He’s not sure how much sanity he has to spare, the fact that you’re accepting him for who he is; that you are getting fucking aroused by what he thought of as an ugly secret until now is making drool ooze down his sharp teeth. Is making him yearn to push your face into the pillow so that he can just take you doggy style, because it’s, well… Fitting.

He wants to do it painfully slow and rough. Like an animal, the instinct to breed you until you’re his little mate is so acute that it hurts him. Christ, you’ve mentioned wanting kids, now that you’re both in your mid-twenties. Have begun talking more and more about moving in together and starting a family. 

And Kiba wants it, too, he truly does. He wants kids, marriage. The chance of coming back to a warm home every single day, and spending the rest of those days with you, now that you know what he is. He’s never been happier because of the fact that you still want him just as badly as he wants you, but how the fuck is he supposed to give you all of that and grant you all of your wishes when he’s a monster?

During the course of your relationship, he’d been nothing but excuses as a result, even if he didn’t want to be. Stalling whenever you had suggested sharing a household. Completely disappearing roughly once a month whenever there was a full moon, even though – much to his luck – you’ve never managed to make the connection. Telling you, ‘Yes, I want kids.’ even though he’d started pulling out the moment you had told him that you got off your birth control.

Seeing the disappointment cross your face each time was hard. He wants kids, fuck, he wants them so bad – it’s in his blood to give you as many as you’ll be willing to have with him, for fuck’s sake. But all of this is complicated. Him feeling scared to give you babies because they’d almost surely be different from the ones you gush over whenever your friends swing by is completely justified.

But now, after you’ve seen him for what he is and have clearly accepted him, just imagining you still wanting kids with him makes his fucking tail want to wag. The way you'd whine and then beg him to cum inside you as your tiny pussy sucks him in, in, in. How you'd spread your legs and let him grab you by the hips until they'd be littered with scratches. How you'd squeal when he'd bite you to keep you still for long enough to make you pregnant with his offspring.

There’d be more than one in this form; he’s sure of it. Sadly, he’s just too big to fit. Perhaps, if you’re willing, you could try when he’s back to normal again.

“But Kiba, I–” Your lips clamp shut the moment he points to the screen again, this time sternly, and exhales this deep, fed-up breath through his nose that tickles your neck and just makes you buzz all over.

He’s even drawn his hips away from you whilst thinking of slamming them in instead. No more rutting – you’re not fucking a monster no matter how bad his need is and how nicely you’ve accepted him. He wants you alive and whole, after all.

And that means: end of discussion.

—

Even in his werewolf form, your boyfriend is as stubborn as ever.

You finish the movie with a frown etched upon your lips that he promptly seems to ignore for your sake. As soon as the credits roll, he makes you watch another one. 

Hours pass; fading away into the night, and you feel him growing lighter. Smaller. More human. Changing or not, Kiba still doesn’t allow you to look at him during it. He’s told you that the transformation can be a bit unpleasant to see when you’re not used to seeing it, so you can’t do anything else but comply with his wishes. 

And just when you’re on the verge of sleep, consciousness nearly fluttering away into dreamland, do you at long last feel him move.

Thick fingers digging into your t-shirt, he presses himself against you after hours of nothing. “Babe?” He whispers right into your ear, nudging you with the tip of his nose, “You still awake, baby?”

He can speak again.

“Mhmm.” His body is still so warm that you can’t help but feel it lulling you to slumber. “I’m awake.” It’s a bother to stay that way, but you still force yourself to remain conscious by rubbing your cheek into the pillow tiredly. “Can I look at you now…? Please?”

A smile ghosts over Kiba’s lips at the plea you’ve surely been harboring for hours. He’s still not used to you knowing and liking this part of him. He doubts he’ll ever be. “I’m not fully back to normal just yet,” he says, and you can tell, because there’s still this coarse bite to his voice that makes him sound like his teeth are too big for his mouth. “But I think it’s safe enough to look… If you want.”

You don’t ask him if he’s absolutely sure, nor if he’s all right with it. Far too impatient to look at your boyfriend again, you’re swiftly flipping onto your other side to finally lay your eyes on him not even a second after the words of insecurity finish leaving his lips.

His appearance makes your heart start to pound all over again. Not out of fear, though. No, this time it’s thrill – the good kind.

He’s mid-stage, just like he’s said he’d be. Not human just yet, although not full-werewolf anymore either: he’s a being of something supernatural and in-between that you don’t know how to name for the life of you. 

He’s still big – bigger than usual – though nearly not as before. The fur is gone, but his hair is still overwhelmingly thick; partially hiding the pointy ears that remain sitting and twitching ever so slightly atop his head. His facial features are back to normal, even if his eyes aren’t. Still yellow, they glow in the dark with those slits for pupils that dilate sideways whenever they make eye contact with you. You can feel the tail as it curls around your hip once more, and can see the fangs when he parts his rosy lips to release a shuddering, anxious breath.

He looks like a hybrid. That’s the word!

“How long?” It’s the first thing that comes out of your mouth as you reach up to touch him. He’s completely naked underneath the thin duvet, you can see the pile of torn up clothes on the floor. It’s a good thing he’s brought an overnight bag with him.

“Huh?” Goddammit, he’s so insecure that he flinches when your fingers make contact with his warm, golden skin.

Your gaze turns soft as you trace his cheekbone and utter, “How long have you been like this?”

“Uh,” he mumbles, brow furrowing despite that he tilts his head so that he can lean into your touch better, “ever since I can remember. I was born with the gene.”

“Just you?”

“It… It runs in the family.” 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip. Chewing on the tender flesh, your voice is hushed, “And why haven’t you told me?”

He hates admitting his vulnerability to anyone – even you – but he has to if he wants this relationship to work and for the bond to strengthen. So he sighs, voice equally as quiet as he says, “I was scared you’d be disappointed.” 

He pauses for a bit now, letting the beat of silence pass. Avoiding eye contact whilst those peculiar yellow eyes flick across your entire room, he seems almost jittery in a way, despite that you’re the harmless human in this situation. God, he hates feeling insecure like this.

You can’t stay still, silent. It’s eating you alive, so you cut into the quiet, “What is it?”

“It’s…” Kiba inhales deeply, shaking his head with a groan that just provokes you further. You’re on the brink of jumping him and shaking him by the shoulders until he spits it out. Luckily for the both of you, you don’t have to do it because now he at long last looks you in the eye and says, “It’s hereditary.”

This time, your roles are reversed and the silence is far longer than the previous beat. A lot longer.

“Say something, sweetheart,” he mumbles, voice strained from nervosity.

“I see.” It’s all you give him and Kiba isn’t sure what the tone means. Either he’s dumb as fuck or he’s just incapable of reading it, it doesn’t matter how sensitive the ears atop his head are – he is still not getting it. 

So he asks, “You know what that means?”

Instead of answering, you ask a question of your own, “Is that the reason why you turned all weird when I got off the pill?”

He just nods before his chin dips down, lips pressed into a firm line and shoulders slumped. Oh, boy. Watching how guilty he looks, you almost feel the gears turning inside your head as all the puzzle pieces click and begin to paint the bigger picture you would have never solved on your own otherwise. 

And here you were; worrying like some idiot that he was refusing to settle only because he didn’t take you seriously enough. 

The entire thing seems so utterly stupid, now that you think about it.

“Is it, like,” your voice breaks before you swallow the saliva that’s gathered inside your mouth. “Is it definite? If we were to have–...”

His expression softens at the worry to glint inside your eyes. “There’s a chance.”

“A chance?”

“Yeah.” He sighs again. “It’s not, like, fully definite or anything like that... I mean, Hana isn’t like this, and we’re brother and sister. But there’s still a pretty big chance, ‘cause I’d be the dad and my genes are… Well, they’re more dominant, I guess.”

“They’re more likely to prevail?” you ask, quirking a brow as you place your hand on his warm chest. His heartbeat isn’t back to normal, per se, it just isn’t nearly as fast as it was before. “I think I’ve read that in an article somewhere before. Or a book I was reading… I can’t remember.”

“I don’t like that word; prevail,” he mumbles, the bridge of his nose scrunching in distaste. You can even see his ears flatten until they’re flushed against his head. “Our kiddos would have as much of you in ‘em as much as they’d have me.”

“Yeah, but if they’re like… This,” you trace his chest gently and jerk your chin upwards to make a point, “they’d have more of you in them than they’d have me, right?”

“They could still have your smile. Or your height. Hell, even your eye colour, which is so pretty by the way.” Kiba says, the corners of his lips twitching when you smile at the smooth compliment. “The yellow would only show when they’d turn once a month; and that's to say if they’d turn. I mean, yeah, it’d play a huge part in their lives, being like this, and it would be hard at times… But that side isn’t everything that'd define them, ya know? They’d still be people. Human.”

You’re surprised how mature he is about this – speaking about it as if he’s practiced it in front of the mirror a dozen times before, albeit still sounding just as genuine. Normally, you’d expect him to be unreasonable whilst attempting to shove his head through the wall, but that’s not the case this time around. And thinking about said case; he’s right. 

Even if he turns into something unnatural every full moon, he’s still Kiba, no matter the form. He’s still your boyfriend who likes to poke fun at you every chance he gets, who likes to scream with joy at the TV whenever his favourite team scores a point, who always picks chocolate ice cream over vanilla, who’s terrible at making the fitted bed sheet actually fit over the mattress – all of that. Those quirks make him human, and he is just that. He’s a person, just like you.

Though, he’s just proved to you that he’d be a wonderful dad, too.

“I don’t see it as a bad thing, baby,” you say, blushing at the thought whilst cupping his face delicately. “I still love you, even if you look like you’ve just graduated from Monster High.” It’s no wonder he was so good at being a jock, both through high school and college. Always so agile and fast by instinct.

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Hilarious.”

You giggle at your own jab. Sigh in content at the kiss he presses to your cheek a moment later. “I still wanna try, you know.”

He stills, warm mouth lingering right next to your temple. “Like… Right now?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is nothing but a whisper as your fingers tangle into his hair and trace the back of one pointy ear. Like a cat, you’re simply too curious to hold back. You can see them both flatten against his head in an instant as he stiffens above you and groans.

“Sensitive?”

“Yeah.” He pauses to draw in a shaky breath. “Very.”

Well, fuck.

You’re growing hot again, almost feverish at how responsive he is to mere strokes. “Should I not touch them?”

“You can. I’ve just never–... Nnh.” He turns into putty that you hold in your hands the moment you scratch his scalp and trace the shape of both triangles after hearing his approval. They’re surprisingly delicate underneath the pads of your fingers; almost silken to the touch and twitching every time you land contact. “Never had anyone touch ‘em before. It’s different than anything else I’ve ever felt.”

His brain might just burst if you actually take his knot.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll be gentle.”

He’s toying with your shirt, claw tugging at the hem whilst attempting to focus. “You seriously wanna try for a baby now?” Turned on so easily and still yearning because of the teasing you gave him before, he can’t think straight.

“Yes,” your answer is confident. Honest. “As long as it’s safe for the both of us, I don’t care if our baby ends up being like you. I’ll still love it, just like I love you.”

God, he could cry at this point. “It’s safe, just a little different... Might hurt a bit ‘cause I’m still pretty big, but I’d never put you in harm's way, you know that, baby.”

Your heart is racing. “How much would it hurt?”

“We’d–...” Goodness, he’s so flustered. “We’d be stuck for a while after we’d be done, like for half an hour… Maybe an hour. It can get a bit uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

He blinks. “Why would it be uncomfortable?”

“No, like why would we get stuck?”

“Oh.” Heat sears Kiba’s face at your question. He’s looking down at you with a furrowed brow and nearly a frown now. You just look so perfect, hair all messy over the pillow and skin dewy, and here he is about to explain the most humiliating thing ever. 

“I, uh… God, this is so embarrassing, but I have a knot, okay? It’s meant for, mm… Basically, it makes me unable to pull out, because it literally hurts us both if I try. And uh–...” He’s nearly scowling now, the poor man. “It just gives us a better chance at having a kid, okay? That’s all you need to know.”

“Wow.” Your eyes grow wide at the crude explanation he’s given like he’s some damn caveman. Pure wooden clubs and unga bunga language, like the definition of Fred Flintstone. “So it’s just like in those fanfics I’ve read as a teen?”

“C’mon, baby, I don’t read that shit.” The pointed look he gives you with those sharp pupils tells you everything you need to know. Nearly makes you laugh. “And you shouldn’t have either, ‘cause listen to the crap you’re spouting while we’re talking about our goddamn future… I mean, seriously.”

“Hah!” The chuckle slips out. “I’m so sorry, Ki. I’ll be good, I promise.” 

He rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance. “Aha.”

“C’mon, I wanna try!” The smile that’s forcing itself on your lips is so big. “I want to have a kid, and move in together; all of that… So, do you wanna do it for real this time?”

Something is fluttering inside his chest and stomach at your proposal. Something that makes him light-headed as he looks you dead in the eye and says, “Well, it depends… Are you gonna take my knot?”

Oh, he’s serious now. All intense, his eyes are burning like a forge.

“Yeah,” you whisper, the air suddenly solemn. He doesn’t want you to joke about this. “I will.”

“Yeah?” he whispers back. “Even if it hurts a little? You’ll still take it?”

You wonder what ‘a little’ means to him. No matter. “Mhmm.”

Studying your features for any hint of deceit, he’s breathing hard just thinking about it. “Okay.”

As are you. “Okay.”

Moments pass, and the silence is intimate. However, you start to laugh again the moment his tail starts to wag. He’s just so goddamn red, so adorable. “You excited?”

“Yeah, m’sorry,” he mumbles bashfully. “It has a mind of its own sometimes. Especially when I’m happy.”

“You’re happy ‘cause I’ll take your knot?”

“Overjoyed.”

“That’s cute. Like you’re a good boy, or somethin’.” Heat is crawling up your neck as you look at him underneath your lashes and mumble, “So… How do you want me?”

Fuck, that flusters him even further. Especially because the communication is good and you start touching his ears again. Good boy, good boy, good boy – he really is a good boy. “I, uh… Just lemme…”

But instead of finishing his sentence, Kiba just manhandles you into position. He’s as gentle as he can be, perhaps even respectful, though you still feel heat overtake your body the moment he flips you onto your stomach with complete ease and hovers above you by pinning both arms on either side of you.

He’s still so big; strong. His body covers your own, warmth and that musky scent fogging your senses completely. That alone is enough to make you shove your face into the pillow and push your ass up as high into the air as it’ll go. Like a proper little mate.

You smell so sweet with dopamine that it makes his voice sound rough from how dry it makes his throat as he watches you squirm into position, “I–... I gotta undress you first.”

“Just tear it off.” Your eyes are glazed over when you turn your head to the side to look at him. “It’ll be faster that way.”

The drool he forces down is thick. “You want it that bad?”

“I need it, love. Need all of you.” Even the werewolf side.

“Shit… O-Okay.” Goddammit, you’ve even got his voice to quiver as he does what you ask of him. The collar of your top chokes you for a brief moment as he tugs on the back of it, fingers so eager whilst the cotton starts biting into your neck, but then he releases you the moment the noise of shredding fabric fills the room. 

Kiba trails his eyes over your exposed back now. At the way goosebumps cover the smooth skin the moment he traces your spine with the tip of one claw. He can see the sides of your tits as they press against the mattress; all plush-like. It just makes his mouth water all the more. “What about the shorts?”

“Same as the shirt,” you mumble, lifting and wiggling your hips again.

His pupils are overtaking his entire irises. “Underwear, too?”

“Mhmm.”

His tail is wagging again, you can hear the dull thump, thump, thump against the mattress. “Tell me what I ever did to deserve you… For real.”

You could tease him. But this moment is tender, intimate, so you decide against it and just say, “Shush.”

You’re naked in mere seconds after that; he’s slicing through the fabric like it’s butter. And that excites you, especially as he inhales so, so deep and says, “Fuck, baby… What’re you doin’ to me?” 

“Nothin’...?” you trail off playfully, smiling into the pillow as you feel your toes curl. His voice is just so coarse; so fueled with passion. You’re dripping just because of the dazed tone alone.

“You smell so fuckin’ good, that’s what you’re doing,” he mumbles, kissing your bare shoulder blade as he tops you. “It’s driving me insane.”

Your eyelids flutter shut at the kisses he keeps peppering all over. “Is your sense of smell better than usual?”

“Yeah.” The tip of his nose presses against your spine, making you giggle when the ends of his hair brush your skin. “I can smell how turned on you are. All that dopamine, fuck… I’m so lucky.”

You chuckle now, “I’m surprised you even know what dopamine is.”

“Tsch. Full of fuckin’ surprises today, aren’t I?” He’s got a smile of his own gracing his features, all charm and pointy fangs. “You need foreplay? I’ve put on lube just now.”

“No,” you utter. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“It’ll still hurt… Even with the lube.” Another kiss to your shoulder, his hips are already meeting yours so that he can align himself with your dripping cunt despite the warning. He’s so impatient to get inside you, after all. “I’m, mm… I’m bigger than usual.”

He says it like it’s a bad thing.

But you’re already buzzing with anticipation; heart racing and fingers gripping the pillow as you feel his cockhead prod at your sopping hole. He’s leaking pre-cum, throbbing and pushing against you and spreading gooey lube everywhere. Waiting for you to say the magic words. “I-I can take it.” I think.

“Good enough for me.”

And it’s true: you can take it. Although just barely.

Every inch that he sinks into you now gives you a stretch that is almost unbearable to endure. His cock is big; fat – it makes you cry. Girthy and thick, you can feel the vein on its underside throbbing inside you as he keeps pushing, pushing, pushing. Slowly and cautiously, his ears are pressing flat against his head again and his tail goes limp from how hard he’s concentrating to make you comfortable and to not go fucking berserk.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… Baby,” he whines. Your pussy is literally drooling. Sucking him in, despite that he’s overtaking your capacity so very fast. “You feel s’good, baby. We-... We’ve still got a bit left but we’re almost there.”

Almost? It feels like he’s in your throat already. Like he’s fucking impaled you on his dick, you’re already salivating onto your pillow, with your eyes crossed and your brain numb. You’re breathing hard; panting underneath him. Sweat oozes out of every pore on your body from the effort you’re both putting into making this work. You’re still so small underneath him, so fragile that it makes him nervous. Doesn’t make him stop, of course, but the nerves are enough to make him chew on his lip. 

“Goddammit,” you whisper, screwing your eyes shut. His size is gruelling – it’s literally rearranging your insides. “Y-You’re so big, Ki.”

“I’m sorry.” Genuine.

“Too big, baby.” Your breath jumps and stammers as he bottoms out and groans at the wet smack! The mewl you let out right after makes his ears twitch.

“Ah, I’m so sorry.”

He’s apologetic, sweetly kissing your shoulder and the side of your sweaty neck from how bad he feels for making you hurt. But he can still smell the absurd amounts of dopamine coursing your blood. Can smell the merest hints of oxytocin as well. You’re into this as much as he is.

Your bodies are pressing against one another to become one; your back is arching and his hips are dipping in just to be as close as is humanly possible. Limbs entwine, mouths open and close in needy gasps. Even your skin is tightening and hardening as he starts to throb inside your fucking womb.

“I took you in,” you mumble dazedly. “Took you in… All the way.”

“You’re such a good lil’ mate, baby,” he whispers in reply. “Gonna breed you so good as a reward, okay?”

You’re looking at each other the moment your head whips to the side. The eye contact is so intense that it makes your pussy clench around his goddamn monster cock. “Y-Yeah?”

“Mhmm, yeah.” He sucks in a sharp breath at the sensation; hissing through his teeth, making you glance at the sharp incisors. “Gonna give you so many pups... I can’t wait to hold ‘em. Our babies.”

His words warm your soul, not just your heart. You’re a hot mess; all sloppy from the drool and tears he’s making you spill, but it feels so good. Your boyfriend fills you up in a way nobody else ever could, because they’re just people and he’s a species of his own. 

A species that stretches your velvet walls to make room for even more cock. That makes you spurt milky slick and gush all over that same dick as it starts to thrust in and out of your warmth, forcing you to moan out the sickest of profanities. 

Fuck, you can feel every drag of his girth. Can feel him in your gut whenever he sinks back in, in, in. 

Time turns non-existent as he screws you, and not once does he exit you completely. He’s relentless at staying inside you for eons at a time, yes, even when his pace picks up and turns so harsh that you feel like he’ll snap you into two. Even as you start to literally sob into the pillow, and he repeatedly keeps kissing your cervix with that fat cockhead of his in answer. Even when your moans turn into sounds only a fucked-out slut could produce. 

He’s fucking you like an animal, even if it’s slow and passionate instead of violent and rough.

“Gonna–...” Your voice is so high-pitched that it makes his ears slant, “Soon, gonna cum real soon…!”

“Yeah, I can smell it,” he grunts, panting quick and hard. “You’re all oxytocin, baby. C’mon, gush.”

“Tryin’-!” Jaw slack, your mouth hangs open as he hits the sweetspot and makes you squeal mid-sentence instead.

“That’s it, pretty. Spill.” He just can’t stop, the way you clamp down on him is too good for words. “Fuck yourself on my dick, c’mon… Just. Like. That.”

You have no clue how he does it, but he somehow manages to make you cum twice in a row. Reaching one peak before heading right towards the other; everything feels so sensitive and tender, raw. You’re on the verge of fainting, or on the cusp of crying – you, yourself, don’t even know which one it is at this point.

And in the midst of all of that, his claws dig into your hips. His teeth find home in your neck and taste blood. Fangs dipped in crimson, he goes absolutely berserk as he brands you. His hand is covering the entire side of your face as he forces you to look at him. To really look at him.

“You’re mine,” he says, voice so deep that it turns you breathless. “All mine. No other man will ever be able to have you, d’you get that?”

You’re nodding fervently, looking like a doll; like a stupid fucking bimbo. “Y-Yeah, I-I got it.”

And he’s absolutely feral; possessive. All messy and wild, his dark hair is sticking to his forehead from all the sweat. He’s staring at you so deeply that your soul is branded with the same yellow as his eyes are before he slams his mouth against your own and kisses you like he’ll never get another chance to do so again. 

You can taste the iron on his tongue; cut your own on one of his fangs, and make him all the more hot and bothered as red spills all over his mouth cavity.

He’ll break you like this. The smell and taste of your blood are to blame, no wonder he didn’t say anything.

Your eyes are closed as you kiss, and so are his. You’re both attempting to focus better on the intensifying sensations whilst your tongues twirl around each other and the strings of saliva break and connect. Every time your lips brush, it sparks electricity in your core. He’s literally twitching inside you; all warm and big. And ready. So ready.

“You’re gonna take my knot and make me a daddy, right?” His whisper sends a chill through you as he grabs you and pulls you even closer. Your body is covered in markings of his teeth and claws; you’re going to ache all over in the morning. But it’s worth it when he licks the shell of your ear and hushes, “Gonna keep being a good lil’ mate for me, yeah?”

So this is how he gets when he wants to breed you for real. You can’t believe he’s had the self-control to pull out every single time you’ve had sex for nearly seven months, when he fucks like this. “Yeah,” you answer breathlessly. “Go-Gonna be a good mate, Kiba…! Gonna take your knot.”

Shit, hearing his name during sex is his weak spot. It makes him want to fuck you into the goddamn mattress until there’s nothing left of you to fuck – as if he isn’t doing that already. “Say it again.”

“Gonna take your knot, Ki-... I-I promise!” You’re struggling to breathe properly, holy fuck. “Gonna be a good mate…!”

“Gotta turn you around… Lemme see ‘em heart eyes.” He’s so close. It needs to happen now; his dick is starting to throb and you need to settle into a position that’s more comfortable before it’s too late.

Still, you whine when he pulls out, and you swear that you can feel him getting stuck between your walls for just the briefest moment before that lewd, squelching noise of his dick parting with your pussy sounds out. And then he’s manhandling you into position again; forcing you into something more decent and vanilla with such ease that you’d think he’s mulled this scenario over in his head a million times before.

And then you’re sobbing his name out when he fills you back up in one ruthless swing again and coaxes the third orgasm out of you. As he just stretches you to the brink of pain again and makes you take it with clenched teeth and teary eyes.

“Fuck, fi-fill me up…! Fill me up, please, please, please…”

Your belly is bulging with his dick, and you’re all oxytocin – delicious, mouth-watering oxytocin – as you begin gushing; leaking warm juices of pleasure until your head is lolling back into the pillow and you’re nearly incoherent. 

He’s licking the sweat from your neck, biting on your skin and kissing you sloppily as he just keeps rutting, fucking, screwing. Your pussy is sucking him in no matter how much he bullies it. It’s as if it can’t get enough of him and that big dick of his. Just keeps on demanding that wet, rough pat, pat, pat!

He can nearly feel its fucking heartbeat on his dick.

“Fu-Fuck, baby… God-fucking-damn.” Kiba is stuttering – fucking stuttering as your fingers find his ears and begin to stroke whilst tugging on his hair. As lightning surges through his veins and he sinks into place and just spills everything he’s got the moment you cry out his name. As he gets stuck inside you and the knot is forced into place. 

The fucking knot. He can feel you clenching around it; walls fluttering like the goddamn butterflies in his stomach as he paints them white with his warm seed. It’s better than anything he’s imagined. He’s fucked you so many times before, but taking you while he’s in this form is not just a delight, but a dream come true. He’s the luckiest man to ever walk the face of the earth. Utterly blessed.

Not even a droplet of cum is leaking out of you; you’re fused together that tightly.

It takes you both long moments to compose yourselves. You spend the passing minutes just bathing in the sticky afterglow and listening to each other’s hearts. You’ve never felt closer to each other. As if your very souls have mended and become one, the feeling is inexplicable.

“Oh, my,” you mumble through shallow breaths at some point, scrubbing both hands over your face. You’re simply exhausted, he’s hit you like a tidal wave. Has taken away the ground beneath your feet, leading you to a higher place. You just can’t seem to bring yourself back, no matter how hard you try. Especially because he’s still inside you. And because of the fact that he’s going to stay like that for a long while. “That was–... A lot.”

“I know,” he says, resting his forehead against your shoulder. His ear flutters the moment your sharp exhale brushes it when you chuckle. “Fuck, I’m sorry; I was so rough… I tried not to be, but some part of me just–...” He pauses, looking up at you underneath thick lashes. “I’m sorry, baby, okay? I’ll answer any questions you have now, since we, well… Have the time, hah.”

“It’s okay, we’ll do that in the morning when I can think straight again.” You’re pleasantly surprised at how tender and protective he is over you already. Nearly purring above you whilst drinking up your approval and inhaling your scent, he reminds you more of a kitty than a wolf. “I do have one question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“Is all of this,” you gesture all over him, “the reason why you like doggy so much?”

The stare he gives you in answer is so deadpan that it’s hard not to laugh.

“Whaaat?” Caressing his face, you squish both of his cheeks until his lips purse. “What’re you so grumpy for, huh? T’was just a question…”

He’s fighting back a smile of his own as he says, “I wanna break up.”

“Hah!” You snort, the sound derisive. “Turning me into a single mother already?”

A beat of silence passes between you again as he presses his chin to your chest.

“I really hope it’ll stick.” The competitive glint that appears in his eyes when he looks up at you just screams Kiba now. “I wanna give you a mini-me first try.”

“Oh?” You smile, all naughty-like whilst wiggling your brows. “Whatever happened to the kid inheriting my half of the gene pool as well?”

“Well, if it’s a boy, he can have my good looks and your bad taste in music,” he mumbles, chuckling. “And if it’s a girl, she can be a badass like me, and have your shitty cooking skills.”

“Idiot, shitty cooking skills aren’t even hereditary! And it’s not like you’re Gordon Ramsay, or anything…” You’re laughing now, flicking his ear as punishment. “If we weren’t stuck together, I would have beaten your ass by now.”

“You can try it in about,” he says, checking the alarm clock on your nightstand, “an hour, or so. And just so you know, I’ll fold you. Pregnant or not.”

“Yeah?” The smirk that ghosts over your lips is so pretty that it makes his heart jump. “You gonna bite me all over again?”

“You bet.” He’s kissing you right on the mouth as he whispers, “But only ‘cause I love you so much.”

“You know… It’s a good thing you’re a furry and not something nasty, like a zombie or someth– Ouch!” You flinch when he sinks his teeth into your shoulder as punishment, “Okay, okay; I’m sorry for calling you a furry! I won’t do it anymore, promise!”

Kiba is all eye rolls and exasperated sighs at your endless jabs.

“Call me that shit again, and I’ll bite your nose off.”

#kiba #kiba inuzuka #kiba x reader #kiba x you #kiba x y/n #kiba smut #naruto smut #kinktober

[sterekfests]

Welcome to our Spring round of Sterek Fests! Sterek Spring Fest will run from March 3rd - April 6th in celebration of Spring, whether you are excited about the renewal of life and spring blooms or traveling for Spring Break, there’s a little something for everyone!

Check out our Rules and FAQs. 

We also have a Discord you can join.

How to Participate:

Participating in Sterek Spring Fest is easy and stress-free! This is a no-commitment fest where you can participate as little or as much as you want. Participate in one week and none of the others if you so fancy, or participate in all of them! There is no minimum word count for your fics. We have an AO3 Collection for you to post all of your creations in!  This fest is open to both Fic and Art, so create to your heart's content!

How to post:

You can post your creations to any website that you want, as long as they are viewable to the public, whether that’s Tumblr, LiveJournal, DreamWidth, or our AO3 Collection. @sterekfests so we see your creations to reblog them. We can only reblog on Tumblr and Re-Tweet on Twitter (we are @sterekfests on Twitter also).  If you post on another site other than Tumblr, Twitter, or Ao3, you can send us a link and we can post it here on the fest blog for you. Use the tags #sterekfestsspring2024, and #sterekfests for generic tags. For weekly tags: #sterekfestsbreak, #sterekfestsicecream, #sterekfestsbeach, #sterekfestspicnic, #sterekfestsharvest

Late Posting:

Late posting is always welcomed! The collection will stay open for late submissions. You can find our Summer, Fall, and Winter collections also if you’d like to add to those collections.

If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask!

- Liam (@sterekbros) & Dori (@evanesdust)

Keep reading to see all the awesome Spring theme weeks ahead!

March 3 - 9: Spring Break

Spring break mode: activated! Stiles and Derek are ready to make some unforgettable memories. The plan? Maybe a road trip through the scenic routes of California. Or maybe they spend the week in a cabin in the woods, surrounded by nature's serenity. They could go hiking, take long walks, and at night, gather around a campfire, share stories, or just enjoy the peacefulness. It's all about stepping away from the usual hustle and bustle and reconnecting with each other and the great outdoors.

March 10 - 16: Ice Cream Crawl

What better way to beat the heat and stress of their supernatural lives than an ice cream crawl? Maybe Derek and Stiles spend their day hitting up different ice cream shops across Beacon Hills as they hunt for the most mouth-watering flavors. Or maybe they venture out of town, finding secret spots and hole-in-the-wall parlors, sampling the eclectic mix of frozen delights from vendors who boast an array of international and exotic ingredients. Either way, they're sure to map out a route that would make any sweet tooth swoon.

March 17 - 23: Beach

It’s time to ditch the winter blues and bring on the ultimate beach parties. Perhaps Derek and Stiles decide to make the most of their day building sandcastles together, or maybe they go for a swim and try boogie boarding? They could walk along the shore and collect unique seashells or relax on their beach towels and soak up the sun. Wherever you take Stiles and Derek this spring, they’re sure to be excited for their beach adventure, enjoying the sun, sand, and waves.

March 24 - 30: Picnic Anywhere

With Spring comes lush, vibrant landscapes filled with new life…and ants. There’s sun-warmed skin along with sweet fragrant flowers blooming, which means it’s time to have some Spring fun! Perhaps Stiles and Derek are having a picnic at the newly rebuilt Hale house, or are enjoying a meadow speckled with wildflowers in the preserve. It could be perfect or a complete disaster if it’s interrupted by Spring showers. Only you can share with us where Stiles and Derek are having picnics this Spring! 

March 31 - April 6: Spring Harvest Festival

Spring has arrived and it’s time to enjoy all the local harvest festivals have to offer! Maybe Stiles and Derek visit a local farmers market to check out the produce for the season, or they run a table or booth there. Perhaps Stiles and Derek are taking Eli to an Easter egg hunt with all the pack kids during a spring festival. There are so many options, including games, food, crafts, and anything else you can imagine that can be enjoyed during a Spring Festival! Show us what Stiles and Derek are doing this Spring!

@thebigbangblogproject @teenwolffandomevents @sterekevents

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek events #teen wolf event #teen wolf #sterek is eternal #sterekfests #sterek edit #sterek au #sterek fanfiction #sterek fanfic #sterek art #sterek event #sterek fic #sterekevents #stiles x derek #eternalsterek #sterekfestsspring2024 #derek x stiles #teen wolf stiles #derek/stiles #stiles

[vela-pulsars]

Cliffside Retreat

A hideaway for a few forlorn deserters

Fanseason of Passage/Cycles inspired by the celts that I decided to stop working on for now, it was going to be about war deserters in the Golden Wasteland, hiding near the waning peaks of the Valley of Triumph. It would be set near a mountain lake that’s at first muddy and polluted, but as quests are completed, arches would emerge from the gradually clearing waters as the landscapes slightly change to reflect each season of the year. More under the cut !

The questgiver would have been a warrior at the head of a troop who decided to desert the battlefield to save their and their people's life, they got bear themes since they were seen as rulers of the forest in some mythos, and the link to the Ursa minor/major constellations as guides was really cool. They feel like a failure and a coward though, and the fact they they all ended up getting got by darkness anyway doesn't help, so what's left of their troop will try to cheer them up during the season.

Each spirit is inspired by a realm we cross before the Wasteland (with the questgiver themselves being GW) to symbolize how much one has lived through before making it to the middle of their life. So, pretty much, this is a season about reminding yourself of how many cycles you passed through before that kind of hardship, reminding you that you got all the experience you gained so far to do so. I also like to think there could be parallels between deserters feeling guilt because they made a complicated choice, and being into adulthood realizing a lot of complex things also have higher stakes and feeling like you're betraying yourself and what you stand for.

The first few quests have you gathering items to build the hideaway back; The first one has you look for scraps with the Wayfinder, summoning the first arch (spring) and making grass and a few cold-colored flowers appear in the desert. For the second quest, you help the Laborer carry and assemble shelters, after which the second arch of summer emerges and the landscape becomes even more verdant with longer grass and warm-colored flowers blooming alongside the ones from the previous quest. As for the third quest, the Blacksmith asks you to deliver items they crafted to the other spirits, making the third arch of autumn come out of the water as harmless rain falls in the area and all the plant life that grew so far turns various shades of yellow, orange, red and brown.

The last two quests are special: Fourth quest starts off normally with you helping the Performer play a song to cheer everyone up, which works... until the fourth arch of winter emerges. A clap of thunder not unlike Eden's is heard, and it becomes split in two (mirroring the twin elders). Snow falls upon the Cliffside Retreat and covers the grass and flowers as the winds become more violent, making flight more difficult... Finally, the questgiver themselves ask you for help for the last quest: a storm is sending all the work done so far flying, and you have to catch it mid-air. At the end, the guide plays their carnyx (an instrument ultimate gift), summoning an elder bird and its flock to guide the winds into being less chaotic. The clouds part, and underneath starlit skies, you see an aurora borealis. The spirits fix what they can, and after looking over life blooming in the area even more colorful than it was before, they feel at peace and ascend to the stars.

#sky: children of the light #thatskygame #fanseason #sky fanseason #beta spoilers on the name and one cosmetic for the next season but -----> #I worked on this since before the season of Passage was announced... so seeing the name and the ult mask is a bit bittersweet #I'm happy but also a bit frustrated my idea actually wasn't new but oh well #at least I know someone at TGC got based tastes in animals and season names

[gf-seasons-zine]

We had SUCH a fantastic response from the interest check, we thought it would be fun to share it with you!

Check out under the cut for both the results and a sneak peek into the epic aesthetic planned for the zine with the gorgeous graphics designed by Mod Berry (this is Mod Jade, so I can gush ;) ) Enjoy!

How many responses did we get? 169! (Wow, thank you!)

When we asked how interested you were in the seasons theme, with 1 being "not my thing" and 5 being "super excited", 119 of you answered with a 5, 44 answered with a 4, and 6 answered with a 3- and no one answered a 1 or a 2!

6.5% of you wanted just a digital zine, 18.9% wanted just a physical zine, and 74.6% wanted both digital and physical!

104 of you wanted to show your interest by buying and 103 wanted to show your interest by applying to contribute! 13 of you were interested as moderators, 82 as page artists, 48 as merch artists, 48 as writers, and 54 just wanted to buy!

When it came to how much you would be willing to pay (in USD):

For the Physical Zine with merch, 58 of you (34%) said you'd be willing to pay $50-55, 55 of you (32.5%) would be willing to pay $55-60, 34 of you (20.1%) said you'd be willing to pay $60-65, 11 of you (6.5%) would be willing to pay $65-70, and 11 (6.5%) of you also said you'd pay more than $70.

For the Physical Zine without merch, 68 of you (40.2%) said you'd be willing to pay $20-25, 78 of you (46.2%) said you'd pay $25-30, and 23 of you (13.6%) said you'd pay $30-35.

For the Digital Zine, 142 of you (84%) said you'd pay $15-20, 24 of you (14.2%) said you'd pay $20-25, and 3 of you (1.8%) said you'd pay $25-30.

117 of you (69.2%) said you wanted merch, 48 (28.4%) of you said maybe you wanted merch, and 4 of you (2.4%) said merch wasn't necessary!

Your top 5 digital merch items were screensavers, colouring sheets, seasonal checklists, printable stickers, and a printable standee.

Your top 5 physical merch items were acrylic charms, sticker sheets, fake polaroids, prints, and badges/buttons.

Your top 5 stretch goal items were an enamel pin, an acrylic charm, a shaker charm, an acrylic standee, and a themed sticky note pad!

We had some amazing additional suggestions for merch, but sadly a lot of them would require a huge number of orders... If you really fancy a notebook, help us keep the interest high!

We asked for a vote on what other characters you wanted to see hanging out with the Pines Family enjoying the seasons! It was great to see the list! Many of you suggested fantastic characters we didn't even have on the list!

Soos had 144 votes, Wendy had 141, Fiddleford had 112, Mabel's friends (Candy and Grenda) had 87 votes, Pacifica had 76 votes, Bill Cipher had 61 votes, Wendy's friends (the teens) had 39 votes, Cryptids (like the Multibear, Sev'ral Times, and Giffany) had 7 votes, Melody had 4, Waddles had 4, Gideon had 3, Gompers had 1, and Abuelita (Soos' Grandma!) had 1.

And finally- the answer to the classic question: What is your favourite season? 19.2% of you said Spring was your favourite, 26.9% said Summer was your favourite, 15% loved Winter the best, and 38.9% said your favourite season was Autumn!

Here are some links to the wonderful fonts we used in the graphics!

Stanford Font: @tsunamiholmes

https://tsunamiholmes.tumblr.com/post/621743237851398144/after-many-hours-of-tedious-work-i-can-finally

Substitution Ciphers: @sovonight

https://sovonight.tumblr.com/post/161811701510/whats-this-yet-another-variant-on-gravity-falls

Thank you again for taking the time to answer the interest check, and for sharing it so others could answer it too! We are thrilled with the response and so excited to create this zine with and for you all!

Mods Berry and Jade

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Disclaimer: We are not affiliated with Disney in any way. The zine will be a charity zine with all surplus going to charity- no one will profit from this zine.

CARRD TWITTER RETROSPRING

#fan zine #charity zine #gravity falls #zine #art zine #fandom zine #zine interest check #interest check #zine promo #fanzine #gravity falls fandom #gravity falls zine #gf seasons zine #gf fandom #stanford pines #stanley pines #grunkle stan #ford pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #grunkle ford #pines family #dipper and mabel #stan pines #stan twins #mystery twins #scheduled post

[moments-on-film]

I really enjoy watching and analyzing The Bear. On my rewatches, I have noticed and written about numerous themes, connections, lines, acting choices and plot points that weave and connect together in beautiful ways. Rewatching and analyzing often exposes other things as well. Some are a little odd to me, to the point where I made the list below:

Season 1

The Timeline. I’m not going to fully get into this, but the timeline on this show is confusing. I think it’s because they shot the pilot episode in the summer and the rest of S1 and all of S2 in the winter/early spring. I’ll just leave it at that, but for example, how we get from a few months after Michael’s death (February) to his birthday, (in November) over the span of the first 3 episodes doesn’t gel with the dialogue. The prop of the card that shows Michael’s birthday and day he passed is what I am basing the dates on. Was this a props error? The pilot is so clearly summer in Chicago and in the rest of the episodes in S1 it is clearly freezing.

Cigarettes. Throughout S1 snd S2, the cigarettes Carmy smokes vacillate between light cigarettes with white filters, and regular ones with dark beige filters. No one just switches between lights and regulars who seriously smokes, as Carmy does, making it feel like a props mistake.

Chain. Carmen is wearing a complexly different chain necklace in the pilot episode vs the rest of S1 and S2.

Hand washing/double spoon use. The scene where Carmy “washes” his hands at the end of 1x2 is bizarre. He puts soap on them and then dries them off immediately with paper towels without using water again or looking down. It’s the only time we ever see him wash his hands so it really sticks out as abnormal and totally out of character. He’s a smoker and coming from fine dining and there has been/still is a pandemic. He would have washed his hands throughly here to show how much attention to detail his character puts into his work. Michael, by contrast, is seen washing his hands fully in 1x6. Was this an editing error? It might have been. It really took me out of the scene the first time I saw it. After he does this, he uses a spoon to taste something, puts it into his mouth, and then uses that same spoon to move chicken in a pan. I think this was an editing mistake, like maybe they cut out the part where he uses a new spoon, but as is, it makes it look like Carmy doesn’t care about cleanliness, which, after watching him obsessively scrub the kitchen on his hands and knees earlier in the episode, makes no sense.

Possible contamination. Carmy touches his face while making hotdogs in 1x4. Uncle Jimmy is telling a story and he’s laughing and it’s clearly very cold outside, but he wipes at his nose and face and then shakes his hands off over the food he’s prepping. This was one of the very, very few moments to me that felt out of character. Carmy would have reflexes to not contaminate food from his years of service, especially the years under microscope scrutiny from the chef in New York.

Camera is visible. You can see the camera person in 1x8 in the reflection of the glass door when Carmy goes to open the door and get the order from the delivery guy.

Carmy’s fingernails. Throughout S1, and in S2, Carmy’s fingernails are trimmed, buffed, neat and clean. I looked for this in every scene, as it helps us understand his character and how seriously he takes his himself and his craft. It also provides a sharp contrast to Richie (in S1), whose nails are visibly dirty, causing us to distrust him and not take him seriously as someone who should be handling food. However, in arguably the most important moment of S1, when Carmy texts Sydney, and then opens the envelope from Mikey, his thumbnail on his left hand is too long and looks unclean. Actor’s nails fall under the jurisdiction of the makeup department so I’m confused why they didn’t realize there was going to be a major closeup on his hands in this scene and fix them if they were not camera ready. It’s the only time in S1 or S2 his nail looks off and it’s an extreme closeup. I noticed it the first time I watched this scene and it really took me out of the moment. I cringe every time I see that nail. In the next scene when he’s making the spaghetti, this nail is neat and clean again, so to me, the prior scene was a mistake.

Season 2

Lockers. Carmy has switched his locker to the other side of the wall. In S1, his is on the left. In S2, it’s on the right. Usually your locker is YOUR locker. This was odd, but it set up the Sydney/Carmy scene well and maybe Carmy moved to be closer to Mikey’s locker.

Tattoos. You can see the actor Jeremy Allen White’s personal E.Z. tattoo on his arm when he’s in his apartment before he sits in the chair in 2x1. There’s no makeup on it at all. It’s completely visible. This tattoo is not Carmy’s, it’s the actor’s, and I think he has said before that it’s his mother’s initials. This tattoo has always been covered with makeup. I don’t understand how this oversight from the makeup department made the final cut.

Different vs differently. In 1x5, Sydney tells Carmy about her catering company, Sheridan Road. “Not a night goes by that I don’t think about what I could have done different.” In 2x3, Natalie tells Carmy, “I don’t want to be treated any different.” In both instances the word differently should have been used. It’s not proper English otherwise. The characters don’t need to speak perfect English, that’s not the point, but these episodes were written by the same person, so that might be why both characters use the same word.

Area codes. I am so baffled by this, I’m still thinking about it. In the beginning of 2x6, there’s a sign on the wall in Donna’s house with everyone’s name and phone number written on it. On this prop, the name Michael is actually spelled wrong, as “Micheal”. Carmen and Michael’s area codes are both listed as (913). Carmen’s area code is well established as 773, which he literally has tattooed on his arm, and it’s in the script, as he verbally says his phone number to the fridge guy and then Claire in 2x2. Michael’s area code was (847), per the script, via Richie to Uncle Jimmy in 1x4. The (913) area code is for Kansas. I don’t understand why the area codes would be for Kansas and not the ones that we already established were theirs, for Chicago, and the suburbs of Chicago, 5 years before present day in the timeline of The Bear.

Eleven Madison PARK. Richie insults Carmy in 1x1, calling him “Eleven Madison Park dic@&ead.” In the coda to this line in 2x8, Carmy calls Richie “Eleven Madison dic@&ead.” Park should have been part of that line for it to fully connect, as it’s the name of the NYC restaurant where Carmy worked, and he’s saying the line, so it should have been the same here for consistency.

The card from Michael to Carmen “I love you dude. Let it rip” is written differently in S1 and S2. The handwriting doesn’t match. It looks like a different prop.

Left handed staff/actors. In 2x9, Carmy freaks out about the pan station. “These should be on the right side because we are all right handed.” This line of dialogue is not true of the actors on this show. If you watch closely in season 1 and 2, BOTH actors portraying Tina and Ebrahim are actually left handed. The actor playing Manny is left handed, and the actor playing Richie favors his left hand as well. This line should have been cross checked with the various Actor’s actual physicality because it doesn’t really make sense.

Food runners. Why are the food runners not running food in 2x10? They stand in the background most of the time and don’t move, even when Carmy and Sydney are yelling for hands. No one moves when Carmy says he needs hands please for PX table 31, Claire’s table, but three food runners are standing directly behind him and completely ignore him. It’s their first night on the job and Carmy is the Executive Chef and owner. They should have helped run food or not been in the shot because it’s confusing.

I really enjoy analyzing this show, and see and greatly appreciate all of the creativity, energy, effort, talent and passion that has clearly been poured into it by the entire creative team. This post is not meant to do anything other than point out the few moments I noticed that made me pause and say, wait, what?

Are there any others that you noticed?

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #my thoughts

[asmallcommitteeoffrogs]

The way I see it, each life series is related to a season.

Third Life- Fall

Last Life- Winter

Double Life- Spring

Limited Life- Summer

Secret Life- Fall

Real Life- Winter?

Last Life is winter. I haven't actually seen Last Life in a while so this might not be a great analysis but bear with me. Everyone sort of went into this season with an almost sense of scramble and knowing what was to come. The winter set in quick and they all made their groups hastily in an attempt for shelter (which ended up causing unstable alliances). The boogyman caused distrust as players just tried to survive and keep themselves safe. Everything feels inevitable and every player is aware of what's at the end. I have strong feelings about this one, but if anyone else who is more familiar with Last Life wants to add on, please please do.

Third Life is fall. Now, you might say, "but, Frog, what about Red Winter?" to which I point out that Red Winter was coming, but it never fully came. The Red King and Dogwarts fell before it could ever officially be winter. Third Life is also fall because of the slow decent into death of everything as well as scarcity of resources as winter approaches. It's not winter yet, but it lurks on the horizon and as things get colder, so do the players and their relationships with each other.

Double Life is spring. Third time around, everybody is sort of starting to get used to the game and how it goes. They know what'll happen, but their attitudes are lighter. The ranchers ranch, new fresh partnerships are made, and everyone is sort of out and about. New elements are introduced such as, goat horns, allays, frogs, powdered snow, and the warden (rip Rancher's Revenge). The whole energy feels kind of excited and fresh in a way. Like just coming out of hibernation.

Limited Life is summer. I feel like I don't need to explain this one too much. The amount of water and ocean themes we get tie into the warm weather aspect. Everyone is social with each other (even if that's because of murder). I've seen this season compared to little kids playing pretend on the playground which sort of ties in with the fun and lighthearted energy. And yet the ticking timer reminds them that nothing, not even summer, can last forever (play 2000's teen summer movie trailer music here)

Secret Life is fall and it's the start of the season cycle again. Lizzie's pumpkin vibes help this theory. This season also had a sense of division to it with the secret tasks forcing people to go off on their own most of the time. In sort of a call back to Third Life, this season could be seen as a omen of what's to come in the winter, and I think that with, as the biggest thing, the Canary Curse getting broken can show that these people have changed and that they are prepared for the winter ahead and that things are going to be different.

And then I guess Real Life would be winter. I haven't quite figured out where this fits into my season theory, but I feel like it could show how this winter is different than the ones that came before. I admit, this season was too short to get a great vibe, so depending on the next season it might get cut to Fall 2.0 (cause I definitely think it's been accepted as canon and I don't want to just remove it)

Anyways those are my thoughts. I'd love to hear what anybody else thinks. I definitely could have said more about some of these but I don't want to ramble too much. I also feel like this could kind of tie into some funky things with the winners too, but I'll save that for another time.

#frog thoughts #long post #damn I actually did a thing #trafficblr #third life #last life #double life #limited life #secret life #real life #3lsmp #llsmp #dlsmp #limlsmp #slsmp #rlsmp #why are there so many names for these #life series

[gettingfrilly]

Where is Peach Creek?

People have been theory crafting this for decades and the canon answer is somewhere in America and that's about it. BUT if you have my flavor of autism and require accuracy and details then here's my own personal headcanon.

Here's all the canon information we have:

According to the series bible, Peach Creek is an American suburb.

Peach Creek experiences all four seasons. We've seen a hot summer, fall foliage, and a snowy winter, so it can be assumed there's a spring time as well. This combined with the broad leaf forest between the cul de sac and the trailer park places Peach Creek in a temperate deciduous forest biome.

Peach Creek has a peach orchard that was there since settlers first arrived in the area. The peaches native to North America grew solely in the southwest.

Peach Creek was founded over 300 years ago by pilgrims. We don't have an exact canon time period for when Ed Edd n' Eddy takes place, but its safe to say it's somewhere towards the end of the 20th century, which would mean Peach Creek was founded some time in the 17th century (the 1600s.) This would place Peach Creek east of the Mississippi, as the west was being colonized by Spain at this point.

In BPS, we learn that Peach Creak is a day's walk away from what APPEARS to be the ocean (more on that later.)

Between Peach Creek and the possible Ocean exists rural farmland, a desert, and a swamp. There is also a snowy capped mountain range visible from Peach Creek Junior High.

This is all a lot of conflicting information! There's no place in America that checks all these boxes. I commonly see people place the Eds somewhere on the north or central Atlantic Coast, because of the possible ocean seen in BPS and the fact that Peach Creek was founded by pilgrims in the 1600s. This checks the most important boxes for me, too, and I would agree, however...

Pop. The kids call carbonated beverages pop. NO ONE on the north or central east coast calls it pop. We call it soda. This is a minor detail for sure and considering all the conflicting information about Peach Creek's location, one that can very much be ignored. But as someone who grew up in New England, I can't ignore it (refer to beginning of post, my flavor of autism.)

"But HOW could they be so close to what looks like the ocean, live in a town founded by pilgrims, and NOT live on the east coast?" I hear you ask. Well, here's my answer: The body of water in BPS isn't the ocean. It's one of the great lakes.

Picture id: Hamburg Beach, Hamburg New York, on the shore of lake Erie.

Sure, Mondo A-Go Go is very ocean themed (the whale trailer, the shark head, the wild prawn) but it could be just that; a theme.

Another reason I like this theory is that THIS GUY:

Picture id: Danny Antonucci, creator of Ed Edd n' Eddy

Also grew up in The Great Lakes region.

And to cinch the deal:

Picture id: Color coded map displaying which U.S.A. regions predominately say pop, soda, or coke.

They say pop!

The further east the Eds are, the more their location makes sense, so I place them in western New York, near lake Erie. It's a rural area with a large city sky line nearby (Buffalo, NY) and there are also Appalachian ski resorts, which would explain the mountain range. There's some swamp land as well, which ticks off all the landmarks seen in the show other than the desert and native peach orchard (though peaches can certainly be cultivated in this biome!)

Also, when looking into travel times in the area, I came across this:

Pictue id: Google map screen shot with a town called Cherry Creek in the center.

Picture id: Incredibles meme. Top text: Coincidence? Bottom text: I think not!

SO that's my theory. The Eds grew up in rural western New York, close enough to the shore of Lake Erie that they could get there in a day's walk. Thanks for coming to my TED talk, etc. etc.

#eene #ed edd n eddy #gettingfrillyspeaks

[chemtrailsovertheccs]

I don’t like sour candy

carl grimes imagine

I don't even know if anyone even reads these but I write for fun so here I am . August is ALMOSt over and the spirit of the pumpkin spice and apple cider has already tangled itself on me. So this one will be fall themed! If you're not in the mood for a sparkle of autumn you can read this one later on. For the ones obsessed with fall this is for you. Really hope you enjoy!

the crisp air whirled around the town and made its way trough the now maroon, ginger, orange and some bald trees. the fallen leaves had painted the streets of Alexandria, every now and then collecting into piles children love to jump into. harvest season was here! that was the main event in fall. meant the town will have food to spare, to the Hilltop, to the Kingdom, to Oceanside. trades are important. all this joy inside the walls of your town even made you forget about the creepiest of halloween monsters: the walkers. you barely went on runs now, everyone was set for a while. speaking of which, you had planned a run with Carl to search for a candy shop, to make a surprise for the kids in town. crazy, runs are risky and you're doing this for some sweets? plus, they'll be expired and produce some serious tummy aches. as long as they taste good! you've decided you really wanted to top the cake with a cherry and do this. imagine the faces of the kids when they find out!

you had convinced the people in charge of the crops to plant some pumpkins a few months ago, not just for the decorations, but you were sure Carol could really make some nice pumpkin pie. they were now ready to reap and you couldn't feel happier.

it was morning now, a very cozy morning wrapped around in some really thick blanket with Carl right by your side. you were so excited to go on this run that you've decided to wake up at 6 in the morning, when even the sun wasn't awake yet. you opened your eyes, and took a long look at what was surrounding you. the smell of musky pine and wood was all around the room, like if someone had sprinkled the scent around. the warmth of the blanket AND your boyfriend kinda made you not want to wake up just yet. you turned around to find a deep-sleeping Carl who was probably peacefully dreaming about you. the sight of him sleeping so carelessly made your eyelids feel as heavy as fridges and you feel asleep again, for a couple of hours.

8 AM now, you noticed the weak rays of sun make their way trough your curtains and you stood on your elbows, just now acknowledging that you had fallen asleep again. you found your Carl obviously still sleeping, in the same exact position you had seen him just two hours ago. you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to wake him up. he took his time to wake up (you were actually very very happy about this, because you know not long ago he hadn't been able to sleep more than 3 hours a night which wasn't good at all; and nowadays he sleeps very well). he opened his eyes a little, adjusting to the not-so-strong light of the sun. he smiled and rolled over. "5 more minutes, love" he managed to say, but it came out muffled because his face was in a pillow. "we have the candy run today love. you can have 5 more minutes though, I'm going to the bathroom to start getting ready" you spoke and got up, freezing a bit due to the change from underneath the warmth to the chilly room. you washed your face, brushed your teeth, did your hair in the comfiest and most practical way you can wear it, and wore your cosiest run-approved clothes.

when you were about to leave the bathroom, half asleep Carl entered and gave you a big hug with no words exchanged. his hair was a bit messy but that's how you liked it the most. this man also sleeps in his underwear every day of the year. just underwear for the lower part of his body. spring, summer, fall and winter. oh, but of course he had this big grandpa sweater on which made no sense to you but it didn't matter (that changes to a t-shirt when the weather is warm). you'd love this man even if he slept with nothing on. "it's just too hot for my legs! i can't wear those long pants" he said to you when u asked the first night this happened. undeniably the no-pants rule wasn't around when he couldn't sleep at night, he was too scared that something will happen and he'd have to wake up fast and leave. now the pants are on his nightstand, near. just in case.

"how was your sleep?" you asked while the hug was still going on. "it was incredible. I slept like a rock. yours?" he replied, still hugging you. "very nice. I woke up once but fell asleep right after" you answered. "so glad to hear that love. I'll be ready in ten minutes, you can wait for me downstairs" he then smiled and you broke the hug, you gave him a quick kiss and ran downstairs, not before hearing a disappointed "hey!" because it happened all too fast.

in less than ten minutes, because this man is desperate, he was downstairs and ready to go. "what about breakfast?" you stopped him right before he was about to kiss you. "oh, yeah right" he embraced you with his arms a planted a long kiss on you, so full of love that even his cowboy hat fell off his head. you laughed a bit and grabbed a couple of cookies Carol had given to you just yesterday and a few clementines. you had everything you needed because you had been so excited about this run that you got everything ready the night before. you grabbed your things and left the house. Rick and Michonne knew about this run and they probably thought there was more to it than just a bunch of candy, otherwise they wouldn't have let you guys go for sure. they were waiting at the gate, along with Eugene and Aaron. "be safe alright?" Rick insisted. he didn't like any of you, Carl or yourself, going on your own to runs for your own safety, but he knew you were capable of this and more, so he just hugged you both and wished you good luck on your searching journey. Michonne did the same and Eugene and Aaron opened the gate and said goodbye. you entered the car and after a few minutes, you were already on the go.

you enjoyed so much spending time with Carl, not like you barely did, you took every chance you could to spend time with him, so you were together most of the time, but just never got tired of it.

you love him and he loves you, deeply, like an old 1950's love.

"I'm really hoping we stumble across a big can of chocolate pudding, or chocolate bars" Carl added. "yeah I thought that's what you were craving. I was thinking about some sour gummies, like the ones they used to sell for trick or treating when that was a thing." you excitedly spoke. " I don't think I've ever told you, even though you know almost everything about me. I'm not a huge fan of anything sour, but especially candy. like, it's supposed to be sweet, not lip-puckering." he explained. "but if that's what you like, I promise we're not leaving before we find at least a tiny bag of them" he said before you could even think of an answer for what he said before. you just smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "love you to the moon and to Saturn" he smiled and replied with the same quote. "love you to the moon and to Saturn"

-will make a part 2 if requested (or not) <3

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes headcanons #carl grimes #carl grimes twd #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes oneshot

[huntinglove]

Season themed selfship asks:

Spring:

🌸 What is your F/O's favorite flower? What is your favorite flower?

🌱 How do you and your F/O like to spend springtime together?

💐 What is something about spring that reminds you of your F/O? What about spring reminds them of you?

🦋 Do you and your F/O enjoy being in nature? If so, what do you like to do when you're outside?

🐰 Do you and your F/O enjoy sweets? If so, which ones are your favorites?

Summer:

☀️ Do you and your F/O prefer warmer or colder weather?

🐚 Has your F/O ever gone on vacation with you? If so, what did you both do during that time?

🌊 How do you and your F/O keep cool in the hot weather?

🌅 What's the best memory of summer that you have together?

🌌 How do you and your F/O like to spend summer nights together?

Fall:

🍂 Have you and your F/O ever played around in leaf piles? If so, how was it?

🍄 What's something you and your F/O like to do to pass the time during fall?

🌲 Do you and your F/O enjoy horror movies? If so, what are some of your favorites?

🎃 Do you and your F/O enjoy Halloween? If so, how do you two celebrate it?

🧦 How do you and your F/O keep yourselves comfortable when the weather starts to cool down?

Winter:

❄️ Have you both ever been snowed-in together? If so, what did you do to pass the time?

☃️ Do you and your F/O prefer to stay at home or to play in the snow?

☕ How do you and your F/O keep warm during winter?

⛅ Do you and your F/O enjoy the cold weather?

🎁 How do you and your F/O celebrate the holidays at the end of the year?

#✯ show me what you can do #pro fiction #pro ship #proselfship #profic #proship #pro ship safe #pro shipping #profiction #proship please interact #proship positivity #proship safe #proship selfship #proshipper #proshippers are valid #proshipping #selfship proship #selfshipper #selfship #self ship #self ship meme #self shipping #selfproship #selfship ask game #selfship ask meme

[morrotober]

Calling all Morro fans!

The Morrotober blog is now excited to present 3 additional events that we will be hosting from now on, for as long as we have participants :)

In addition to the classic Morrotober event, which will be hosted in the fall/October as usual, we now have one event for each of the four seasons. All of these events will be open events, meaning anyone can join. There will be no applications, though some of these events have sign-ups to help facilitate the process.

Please check out the details below and we hope you'll join us for these events when the time comes!

Spring Event

The spring event will take place some time March to May of the year. It will be a themed collab event, not necessarily spring themed.

A theme will be decided each year of the event and participants will create content focused on that event. Art, fics, gifs, cosplay, etc will be allowed--basically anything goes as long as it fits the theme!

A sign up sheet will be created so everyone may see what others are doing and sign up for slots to create a range of differing works that fit the theme. Participants are encouraged to work with each other (thus a "collab" event) and there are no limits on how many people may work on a topic or how many works someone creates.

Summer Event

The second seasonal event takes place around June to August. This event will be an exchange event, typically between an artist and a writer, but not always. Two participants will be paired up and take turns creating a work based on a theme or prompt (similar to big bang/reverse big bang events).

Fall Event

Of course, our fall event is Morrotober itself, which will take place in October every year. Please check out the masterpost for more information on this event.

Winter Event

Our final seasonal event is the winter secret santa, which will take place around November-February (likely sign-ups in November and posting in January, to avoid scheduling conflicts with the typical secret santa events that crop up in December). Please note this event will be done through drawnames.

(And yes, I know some of these seasonal event descriptions are vague, but that's because each event has it's own specific rules. For instance, this year's spring collab event may be slightly different from next year's and so on, so only general descriptions have been given for each event)

#lego ninjago #ninjago #ninjago morro #morro ninjago #ninjago masters of spinjitzu #ninjago possession #ninjago events #morro seasonal events

[lynnieos]

thank you to THESE people who have supplied me with ideas (@wodimewoahtime and @the-one-that-weeps you guys are great)

SO. SOME BIG CHANGES.

will be having a "theme" for each group to make things easier on myself because coming up with an individual theme for everyone is a nightmare. These are just some ideas, and I have more ideas than others for certain groups

WxS: Myths and mystical creatures, card deck, or a marching band.

I'm iffy on the card deck idea because well. World Link. All aces. I don't wanna just steal everything from canon. But if I go through with it... Tsukasa is the joker, Rui is the king, Nene is the queen, and Emu is the Jack (I think that's what it is).

For myths and legends tsukasa would be either a pegasus or a phoenix or even a dragon, Nene would be a mermaid, Emu would be a fairy, and rui would be a wizard/alchemist.

For marching band, Emu would play the tube or trumpet, Nene would play the flute, and rui and tsukasa are the conductor and the drum player I'm not sure which one goes where. This idea is the most cohesive but idk what powers I would give them other than. Music. This idea would actually be based off of the Let Your Song Resonate Throughout the SEKAI event rather than their own event cards.

N:25: Tarot cards. Tarot cards. Tarot cards. Lower save me.

Mizuki is obviously The Reverse Hermit and Kanade is The Reversed Hanged Man, but Mafuyu and Ena are the ones i have to do on my own.

For Mafuyu I'm thinking either Reversed Empress or Reversed Hierophant. Honestly both of them could be incorporated because they represent her during different stages of her development. Maybe if there ends up being like. An evolution of ones costumes. She could look more like the Reversed Empress at the beginning and then end up looking more like Reversed Hierophant at the end. just an idea

I'm looking at Reversed Chariot or Reversed Strength Ena. BUT I'm not 100% sure these represent her character well, so if anyone has anything to say about my choice here then go for it.

MMJ: Tokyo Mew M- I mean animal magical girls. Haruka could be a penguin, shizuku a dove, airi a cat, and maybe squirrel Minori? I need help with Minori. Maybe lamb Minori. Idc that lambs are associated with kohane she's a hamster that's the end of it. Also this is def gonna take from both their DREAM PLACE and Ai No Material outfits.

ANOTHER IDEA!!! their theme could be "gemstones" and they could take from their jewelery box set. Minori is sunstone, Haruka is aquamarine, Shizuku is jade, and Airi is spinel. These gems are all just from the project sekai Jewelery Box card game I think it is?

VBS: Okay so this one is most likely gonna be the most diverse out of all of them. Their theme is seasons. Kohane is spring (because spring baby), An is summer (she just gives off those vibes + her fiery spirit, Akito is fall because of the fact that his name normally gets mistaken for "fall" (look it up its on the wiki) and toya is winter (because mirai).

Akito is going to be based on his Kashika card (I think I can do something with the red strings) An is going to be based on her Machi card, Kohane is going to be based off of her Flyer Card (ty hoc) and her Beat Eater card (big ol hammer), and toya will be based off of his mirai and maybe Valentine's Day cards. Maybe. All of them are most likely going to take elements from blender.

L/N: Times of day. Was originally going to do this with VBS, but I moved it to Leoni.

I'm not too sure about the order but for now I will say that honami is morning, saki is midday, shiho is evening, and ichika is night.

All of them are going to be taking elements from the From Tokyo set, saki especially. Honami is going also use elements from her fea card (if I find a way to incorporate it), Shiho will take from her Draw Your Bow card (idk I like the outfit) and ichika I'm undecided on but she'll either take from her Stage of SEKAI card or her Made To Order card..

That's it

#au shit #project sekai #wxs #niigo #mmj #leo need #vbs #prsk #pjsk

[sterekfests]

Welcome to our Spring round of Sterek Fests! Sterek Spring Fest will run from March 3rd - April 6th in celebration of Spring, whether you are excited about the renewal of life and spring blooms or traveling for Spring Break, there’s a little something for everyone!

Check out our Rules and FAQs.

We also have a Discord you can join.

How to Participate:

Participating in Sterek Spring Fest is easy and stress-free! This is a no-commitment fest where you can participate as little or as much as you want. Participate in one week and none of the others if you so fancy, or participate in all of them! There is no minimum word count for your fics. We have an AO3 Collection for you to post all of your creations in! This fest is open to both Fic and Art, so create to your heart’s content!

How to post:

You can post your creations to any website that you want, as long as they are viewable to the public, whether that’s Tumblr, LiveJournal, DreamWidth, or our AO3 Collection. @sterekfests so we see your creations to reblog them. We can only reblog on Tumblr and Re-Tweet on Twitter (we are @sterekfests on Twitter also). If you post on another site other than Tumblr, Twitter, or Ao3, you can send us a link and we can post it here on the fest blog for you. Use the tags #sterekfestsspring2024, and #sterekfests for generic tags. For weekly tags: #sterekfestsbreak, #sterekfestsicecream, #sterekfestsbeach, #sterekfestspicnic, #sterekfestsharvest

Late Posting:

Late posting is always welcomed! The collection will stay open for late submissions. You can find our Summer, Fall, and Winter collections also if you’d like to add to those collections.

If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask!

Liam (@sterekbros) & Dori (@evanesdust)

Keep reading to see all the awesome Spring theme weeks ahead!

March 3 - 9: Spring Break

Spring break mode: activated! Stiles and Derek are ready to make some unforgettable memories. The plan? Maybe a road trip through the scenic routes of California. Or maybe they spend the week in a cabin in the woods, surrounded by nature’s serenity. They could go hiking, take long walks, and at night, gather around a campfire, share stories, or just enjoy the peacefulness. It’s all about stepping away from the usual hustle and bustle and reconnecting with each other and the great outdoors.

March 10 - 16: Ice Cream Crawl

What better way to beat the heat and stress of their supernatural lives than an ice cream crawl? Maybe Derek and Stiles spend their day hitting up different ice cream shops across Beacon Hills as they hunt for the most mouth-watering flavors. Or maybe they venture out of town, finding secret spots and hole-in-the-wall parlors, sampling the eclectic mix of frozen delights from vendors who boast an array of international and exotic ingredients. Either way, they’re sure to map out a route that would make any sweet tooth swoon.

March 17 - 23: Beach

It’s time to ditch the winter blues and bring on the ultimate beach parties. Perhaps Derek and Stiles decide to make the most of their day building sandcastles together, or maybe they go for a swim and try boogie boarding? They could walk along the shore and collect unique seashells or relax on their beach towels and soak up the sun. Wherever you take Stiles and Derek this spring, they’re sure to be excited for their beach adventure, enjoying the sun, sand, and waves.

March 24 - 30: Picnic Anywhere

With Spring comes lush, vibrant landscapes filled with new life…and ants. There’s sun-warmed skin along with sweet fragrant flowers blooming, which means it’s time to have some Spring fun! Perhaps Stiles and Derek are having a picnic at the newly rebuilt Hale house, or are enjoying a meadow speckled with wildflowers in the preserve. It could be perfect or a complete disaster if it’s interrupted by Spring showers. Only you can share with us where Stiles and Derek are having picnics this Spring!

March 31 - April 6: Spring Harvest Festival

Spring has arrived and it’s time to enjoy all the local harvest festivals have to offer! Maybe Stiles and Derek visit a local farmers market to check out the produce for the season, or they run a table or booth there. Perhaps Stiles and Derek are taking Eli to an Easter egg hunt with all the pack kids during a spring festival. There are so many options, including games, food, crafts, and anything else you can imagine that can be enjoyed during a Spring Festival! Show us what Stiles and Derek are doing this Spring!

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek events #teen wolf event #teen wolf #sterek is eternal #sterekfests #sterek edit #sterek au #sterek fanfiction #sterek fanfic #sterek art #sterek event #sterek fic #sterekevents #stiles x derek #eternalsterek #sterekfestsspring2024 #derek x stiles #teen wolf stiles #derek/stiles #stiles