#And my DM ended up liking him enough that I might get to play him for a Wallflower campaign in the (hopefully) near future

[bamboorocket]

I swear I still draw canon stuff, but I've been throwing concept sketches at @mikanashii and @feliciadraws while working on finishing the Crossover prompt for Spookami, and Felicia all but demanded I post these here too. So more Lancer!Waka doodles for y'all + a rough first pass at an overall color palette.

[its-your-mind]

ALWAYS rotating TAZ: Balance around in my brain like microwave but ESPECIALLY with the announcement of The Suffering Game graphic novel

The dope thing they can do (and are doing) with the graphic novel series is sprinkle in moments of foreshadowing and hints to the reader about what REALLY might be going on here, which is so cool and I’m a huge fan of it, especially when you’re telling a story in this form.

But what is REALLY FUCKING TASTY about Balance as a story is that none of the motherfuckers telling it had any clue what they were doing when they started

Gerblins is dick jokes and not knowing how dice work and making fun of each other for voices. LICHRALLY the scene where Taako grabs the Umbrastaff is immediately proceeded by Clint trying different voices for Merle while Justin begs him to stop, as Taako. Merle gets launched across the room cuz he failed his save, and now Taako has an umbrella. The scene moves on.

Griffin brought them up to the BOB, introduced them to the Director, and gave them memories of a war fought over nameless, lost, powerful but mysterious artifacts. The memory that Taako takes from it is the idea of soured cream (ya know, for his taco quest).

And then they’re off, on different adventures, making friends, saving lives, making more dick jokes, and Griffin is in the background, slowly building in the meta-plot, as all DMs do.

But this meta-plot was HUGE. It was ALL-CONSUMING. It completely changes everything we know about this world and these characters. It takes the moments of dick jokes, and arguments about character voices, and flirting with death, and adds a layer of tragedy and complexity that just wasn’t present the first time they told that story.

AND THAT’S WHY THIS STORY KICKS ASS. The vibe of the story changed as Tres Horny Boys grew closer and closer to remembering the lives they had lost, as Griffin upped the stakes, as people started dying. They still don’t know shit for most of The Suffering Game, but you absolutely could not have predicted the tone of that arc after just listening to Gerblins. It sounds like a completely different story. And so when the other shoe drops, when shit breaks bad, when it’s the end of the world… again, and they have to reclaim their Stolen Century…

It makes sense. The tone has shifted enough to accommodate that kind of change. The characters have grown (back) into themselves enough to make this work.

Because TAZ: Balance is a tragedy. But the tragedy happened before the podcast even started, and had been erased. So of course it started off with goofs and dildo jokes. Of course the three of them started being standoff-ish with each other and making light of every situation that should have had a lot more weight. They didn’t know what they had lost, and we, the audience, didn’t either. So it was easy to laugh and joke… until slowly, it wasn’t so much anymore.

Plenty of people have praised Griffin’s storytelling abilities, but I think the thing that was most impressive to me was how he took the disparate threads laid out behind the Boys on their adventures, and followed them backwards, into the story they had lost, and forwards, into the ending they earned. I fucking love that he settled on Istus as the deity to interact with them, because I don’t think there’s a better representation of the story Griffin was weaving behind the scenes of the arcs.

Story and Song wasn’t really an arc driven by dice rolls and role playing - but it wasn’t railroading either. Griffin took every story they had told, every happy ending they had fought for, and twined them around and through each other. The world was saved not because of a lucky nat 20 roll, but because every person they had helped through the story came out in force to fight beside them to save their world.

And so in the end, the Stolen Century was a tragedy. But The Adventure Zone: Balance was a story of hope, of family, of the power that just a few loveable doofuses can have when they move through the world, making friends and saving lives. So when the world was ending and they needed help, there were dozens of people waiting to hear the Story and the Song that would give them the push they needed to fight, and the hope they needed to win.

[heexseung]

꒰ 🌧 ꒱ ┄ ❛ dark academia ；caeruleum ❜

* pairing: vampire!heeseung x afab!reader

* tags: smut, fluff, romantic, human!reader, degradation (m. receiving), praise (m. receiving), mentions of free use, handjob (m. receiving), overstimulation (m. receiving), bratty!heeseung / switchy!heeseung if you squint, cunnilingus, body worship [kinda] (f. receiving)

* summary: because you two were loud last time, rumours have been spreading around about you two, causing you to receive a lot of unwanted attention from your peers.

* word count: 10k

* a/n: hello babes !! omg i almost forgor about this- but i DIDNT SAUR ENJOY THIS REPOST <3333 tysm for all ur support i wish u the loveliest days ahead c: and if you wish to come drop by my twitch streams, you can dm me and ill gib u my link ehheeheheheh ok thanks baiii

Even on weekends, you'd typically spend all of your free time cooped up in your tiny dorm, studying. Your timetable consists of waking up, getting ready, going to classes, studying and sleeping. You don't really do anything else and you don't really go outside much either.

It's not that you're in love with learning, although you do like learning — it's just that you don't really have anything else to do. Nothing interests you and oftentimes, you'd get so bored that you just end up thinking, well, the books are right there. Might as well do some studying. At least it'll give me something to do.

You thought about going outside and seeing the world; the world that is so unknown to you and many other humans out there, the world that any human would be extremely lucky to see… yet you can't bring yourself to step outside of your dorm unless it's for classes. You wish you had more courage to do so but after your first day here, you decided that it's best to lay low and not bring any attention to yourself. After all, your existence here is already controversial enough.

Thus, you live your life like this. It's boring and repetitive… but it's not like you're doing anything to actually change it. Plus, being here is something that you've always wanted to do ever since you were a kid, so it's not all bad and despite the less than ideal treatment you've got during your time here, there's still nowhere else you'd rather be at.

Besides, the isolation, gossip and rumours don't bother you much anyway. It'll never be as bad as the first week and you're thankful that everyone here usually lets you be — that is, usually.

Lately, you've come to notice that people are gossiping about you again but you're not sure why. You can't really hear what they're saying nor can you really ask someone about it… but you doubt it's because you're human, they've already gossiped about that on your first week here.

Maybe it has something to do with your lab partner, Heeseung. After all, the gossip did start right after the day you hooked up with him. But you doubt it.

Speaking of your lab partner, you wonder where he's been all this time. It's been a couple of days since you last saw him, he didn't even come to class two days ago. You hope he's okay.

You don't think you'll see him today either. After all, you both only share one class together, Intermediate Alchemy, and you don't have that class today. Even so, for some reason, there's a part of you that hopes to see him today anyway, maybe because he's the only person who's actually kind to you here. Everyone else would just ignore you.

As you walk down the hallway to go back to your dorm, the faint sound of an unfamiliar melody stops you in your tracks. You do a double-take, is what you're hearing what you think you're hearing?

It is.

It's the piano.

Someone's playing the piano, and beautifully so. Such beautiful and delicate melodies played with such grace, you can't help but think to yourself, a complex piece like this must take days to learn how to play. Who's playing it? And what piece is this?

Thus, you follow the faint sound of the grand piano, hoping to find the talented person playing it. Besides, you're in no rush anyway.

After a few seconds of walking, you find yourself standing in front of a closed classroom door. The sound of the piano is still a bit hard to hear properly but you don't want to open the door and disturb the person playing so you press your ear against the door, trying to listen to the piano piece as discretely as you can.

Thank God the hallway is empty or else there'd be more weird rumours about me, you can't help but think to yourself while silently chuckling.

But all too quickly, like less than a minute or so, the melodies stop playing. You wait for a few seconds to see if they'd continue but instead, you hear the faint sound of footsteps coming closer to you. You barely have enough time to detach yourself from the door and look unsuspicious before the door suddenly opens and an annoyed looking Heeseung peeks out.

However, his expression quickly changes to a surprised one as he sees you standing there like a deer caught in headlights. Now with his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised, he opens the door a bit more as he looks at you. A moment of silence passes by until you awkwardly clear your throat to break the silence.

"Um, hi," you say to him, hoping that he's not annoyed at you for listening in on him.

"Ah… hi…" he shyly says. His left hand scratches the back of his head as his eyes move away from you, but only for a moment. "Sorry, I, uh… I thought you were... one of those people."

His tone is sharp and annoyed and he rolls his eyes as he says the last two words but then he looks at you again and gives you a smile that reaches his eyes.

You reply, "No, no. I'm sorry I… kinda listened in on you."

"Kinda?" He asks with a teasing tone, his smirk is evident.

You laugh in response. It's short but the lightheartedness of the laugh still manages to dissipate the awkwardness between you two. Heeseung leans against the door frame with a smile and softly says, "It's okay."

And then he pauses. It feels as if some words are meant to be spoken here, right at this moment, but there's only silence as he stares at you. A couple of seconds later, he continues, "Um… do you wanna come in?"

Hell yeah. You've never seen this room and you're curious.

It seems that your facial expressions tell him your answer loud and clear. He gives you a bigger smile, the kind of smile that one can't stop from appearing even if they tried, and takes your hand in his to pull you into the room with him. His hand feels slightly warmer than yours and something that surprises you is the fact that his hand feels like it fits you more than your own. It makes you feel strange... knowing that even your own hands, hands that were created to fit perfectly into each other…

All your life, you've always thought that there's no way someone else's hands would ever fit into yours as perfectly as yours do but as his hand holds yours, guiding you to take a seat in front of the grand piano, you think to yourself, maybe I was wrong.

Brushing your weird thoughts away, you pull your hand away from his and look around the room. It's a bit dark in here because the curtains are closed but you can still make out what's inside the medium shaped room; some bookcases at the wall, a whiteboard at the front, some musical instruments at the left side and this grand piano at the right. Other than that, it's pretty empty which makes it appear more spacious than it actually is.

After putting your sling bag down on the floor beside you, Heeseung, now sitting next to you, starts playing a different tune than before and you watch as his pretty hands gracefully move from one key to another, you listen to the unfamiliar yet beautiful piece of composition.

Soon, the music grows in pace and intensity, you can feel the composer's passion as it goes on. Then it slows down to a soft and romantic pace, somehow reminding you of the beauty of nature despite being in a dark room with none, and then a moment later, it grows again until it eventually comes to a really slow and soft tune that reminds you of the gentleness of a mother bird singing to its nestlings. As you listen to him play, you feel like you're being kept at the edge of your seat, following the music as if you're a leaf in a stream of water. It's exhilarating, really. You didn't know music could do such a thing.

By the time he finishes playing, you're in awe of his talent in playing the piano, fully knowing that playing such beautiful composition takes a lot of time and effort. Before you could compliment him, he's already speaking, "Do you like it? It's called Dreams of Love by Franz Liszt."

"Yeah," you say, a bit breathlessly, just now realising that you've been holding your breath. "Wow, you're so talented."

His laugh is soft in your ears. "Thank you."

Turning to him, you look him in the eyes and say, "I didn't know you could play piano so beautifully."

Your words make him blush a bit; a soft shade of pink dusts his ears and cheeks — it reminds you a bit of the intimate moment you shared with him a couple of days before. As he murmurs a shy thank you, it becomes a bit awkward between you two again. Heeseung starts fiddling with his fingers and he opens his mouth as if to speak but he closes it back after a second or two.

Eventually, he does speak but his voice is devoid of all lightheartedness from before and his face shows a sorrowful expression. "Look," he sighs and turns to look at you. "I should apologise for the… uh… well, the last time, um, you know." He then gives a frustrated groan, burying his face in his hands at his failed attempt to communicate his thoughts to you. "I'm sorry, I- We… we shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry."

You can only stare at him in disbelief. "What?" You say, your tone sounding a bit too harsh for both of your likings.

Truthfully, his words hurt you, more much than you'd like to admit. In a way, you kind of gave him a part of you, you showed him your vulnerability and you let him touch you in ways you'd never let strangers or even regular friends do... and now he tells you he regrets it. It hurts and you feel a bit embarrassed. You enjoyed your time with him but unfortunately, you guess he doesn't feel the same.

Suddenly, Heeseung realises that what he just said is probably the worst thing he could ever say to you. He quickly tries to take it back, "Wait- nonono, I meant-"

But you're already standing up to leave, not really wanting to hear whatever else he has to say. As you move, he gets up with you, his tone starting to sound desperate as he calls out to you. "No wait, please, please don't leave. I don't think you understand me."

And to think that I thought we could actually be friends.

You might sound a bit dramatic but you can't help what you feel. Now your relationship with him feels weird and awkward. You just want to quickly leave.

Right as you're in front of the door, he grabs your arm as a last attempt to stop you. Calling your name again, he pleads with you, "Please listen to me, it's not what you think. I-"

With wide eyes, his breath hitches as he stops himself from continuing, a bit mortified at what he almost blurt out. You only give him a confused look with an eyebrow raised. After a moment of just staring at each other in silence, he finally breathes out a worried sigh and surprisingly rests his head on your shoulder while intertwining his hand with yours. But what's more surprising is the fact that you don't have the heart to push him away.

What a weird person, you think. First he tells me he regrets having sex with me and now he does this.

"I'm sorry. I'm a mess when I'm with you," he murmurs, his face heating up at the confession.

As much as your heart beats faster at his words, you can't help but ask yourself, why? You're just a human. Heeseung can't possibly like you, could he? He has many other suitors that would be more than elated to be with him. Maybe he means that you just make him nervous — you wouldn't be surprised if you do since you make many people here nervous by just breathing.

Just as you're about to say something, you hear footsteps coming near you both, along with the sound of people talking... surprisingly about you. Although you're not new to people gossiping and spreading rumours about you, it does pique your curiosity; you've always wondered what people say about you behind your back.

On the first week, you heard people saying that you came from a rich family that had relations with the university's administrative staff or that a supernatural family adopted you or that you're not really human. Those were only the light rumours. Sometimes, when walking to class, you'd hear people say that you're working undercover for the human government, that you're only here to destroy the supernatural space and that everyone should be wary of you.

It makes you a bit sad, to be honest, because those words couldn't be further from the truth. However, you don't particularly blame them; humans haven't exactly been nice to the supernaturals, so you try to not take offence.

This time, however, the rumours are something else and it seems to involve not just you but someone else too.

"There's no way that happened," someone irritatedly says. If you could see them right now, there's no doubt in your mind that they'd be rolling their eyes.

"I'm just saying what everyone else is saying," another person says, their tone more nonchalant than the other’s.

"God, I swear, rumours are so dumb, like Heeseung and Y/N fucking in the dorms, really?" Your eyes go wide at the revelation, is that what everyone's talking about? But how did they know? And why is it a huge deal if I get laid? It doesn't make sense to you.

The same person continues, their voice growing louder as they walk closer to where you're standing, "This sounds as ridiculous as the time when everyone was saying that Jake fucked 100 people."

"Ah, but this one could actually be true," the other person thoughtfully says.

"What? Don't tell me you actually believe-"

"There are people who said they heard them," they say as a matter-of-factly, their voice now growing fainter as they pass by you but you can still hear the change of tone in their voice, now sounding more intrigued, "They say she edged him a couple of times and he wouldn't stop begging her to fuck him." Chuckling, they continue, "Must be a fun time."

Heeseung buries his head deeper into your shoulder as they say that, his hair tickles your neck a bit but you don't mind. Plus, you're more focused on their conversation, so much that you almost don't feel his hand tightening his hold on yours.

At the same time, you hear the former laugh and say, "You're so fucking weird."

Their conversation doesn't stop there but that's all you're able to hear, they're too far for you now. However, you're pretty sure Heeseung can still hear them — after all, his hearing is better than yours could ever be. But now that you know what everyone's talking about, you understand why he said what he said. He's surely not fond of the gossip about you two. You feel a bit sorry about it and despite knowing that it's not really your fault that people gossip about you, it doesn't really make you feel better.

A while later, Heeseung finally speaks again but he still doesn't move away from you and his voice sounds grim, a contrast to his usual demeanour, at least from what you've seen. "Sorry. It's my fault. I should've been more careful."

You try to look at him, a bit confused at what he's saying but he's hiding his face from you so you instead simply ask him, "Huh?"

He takes a deep breath as if trying to gather his confidence. Then, he pulls away from you and you're now able to see his face clearly. Ah, so that's why he was hiding.

With an obvious blushing face, he says, "It's not that I regret it, of course not, it's just that I think we should've done it elsewhere because obviously, people could hear and it was so stupid of me for not thinking about that." He gives out a frustrated sigh and continues, his voice soft and sad, "I guess I got carried away... I'm sorry."

Another moment of awkward silence as you try to make sense of what's going on. When you finally do, you can't help but question him, your voice almost as soft as his, "Why are you apologising?"

Giving you a surprised look, he pauses for a moment as he contemplates his answer. "D-doesn't the gossip bother you?"

He looks so sad that you just can't help but tenderly hold his face, making him look at you as you reassure him, "Heeseung, people always talk about me. It's nothing new. If anything, I should apologise since you got dragged into it."

Quickly objecting, he blurts out, "No, it's my fault! If I would've been more careful- if I haven't been thinking with my dick instead of my brain, this wouldn't have happened and you wouldn't have hated me and everything would've been fine and-"

You've never seen him look so distraught before. Seeing him being so uncharacteristically talkative worries you because despite knowing little of him, you do know one thing; he's not the type to word vomit, he always thinks things through before he speaks his mind and when he speaks, his words are fully thought-out. He may stutter here and there but they'd still seem thought-out and planned. Now, seeing him not able to do so and just desperately speaking, trying to convince you that he's at fault... it just doesn't sit right with you. How long had this issue been on his mind? And to what extent does he blame himself?

"Heeseung, calm down."

But he doesn't. He seems to be fully inside his mind, blurting out words as much as he can as if he's blurting out days' worth of worries. You're not sure what to do to calm him down but in a state of panic and with your hands already on his face, you pull him close and kiss him, hoping that the shock would be enough to stop him from overthinking.

Fortunately, it works. He gives a soft muffled sound as your lips touch his and then everything gets quiet. Still, he doesn't kiss you back, most likely too shocked at your actions. The kiss itself isn't long, you don't let it nor need it to be — you pull back a few seconds later. Looking into his almost teary eyes, you apologise for the sudden kiss, "Sorry, I didn't know-"

You're pretty sure he wasn't listening to you because now the tables have turned; now, he's kissing you and the kiss he gives you is way different than your attempt to get him to calm down — it's intense, messy, desperate and so intoxicating that you almost forgot to kiss him back.

When you do kiss him back, his actions only become more desperate. His hands constantly move; first from his sides to your shoulder, then to hold your face, then to your arm as he pushes you against the door, then to your waist, almost as if he's trying to make sure that you're really here. His lips never stop moving to press open-mouthed kisses to yours and as he does so, a small part of you can't help but feel like he's offering every part of him to you through the kiss, stealing your breath away in the process.

Eventually, you both pull away, needing to breathe. For a while, you both stare into each other's eyes. Heeseung rests his forehead against yours, his lips a bit swollen as he pants and his breath feels hot against your lips.

After a moment of intense silence, he speaks, his voice sounding a bit hoarse and it's as if he's talking to himself rather than to you. "You don't hate me."

You reply, "Of course not. How could I?" Gently caressing his cheek with your thumb, you whisper, "You're the only person here who's been kind to me."

Something in his eyes changes — you're unable to pinpoint exactly what it is but you don't ask either. He gulps, still breathing heavily, still looking into your eyes and then asks you with a soft wavering voice, "Why did you kiss me?"

It isn't his question that catches you by surprise but the look in his eyes that make him seem like he's expecting or hoping for a certain answer. If you were to look away, you could answer him honestly; "it was to help calm you down" but you can't look away, not when he's staring at you so intensely, not when he looks like he's begging you to say something specific as he waits for your answer. Your breath hitches as you think, unsure of what to say to him.

But it seems that you were silent for way too long. Breaking eye contact with you to look at the ground, Heeseung takes a step back and his hand rubs the back of his neck for a short moment.

"Did you only kiss me to shut me up?" He chuckles after he says that but the slight bitterness in his voice is evident.

"I'm sorry, I panicked. I was trying to calm you down," you eventually say.

He simply stares at you as if you just said the most absurd thing ever; eyes wide, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open. After realising that you're actually serious, he grabs your hand and slowly brings it to rest on his chest, giving you the chance to pull your hand away at any moment if you wish. "Can you feel it?" He softly asks.

You know what he's talking about — his heartbeat right underneath your fingertips... but you can't feel it nor hear it. Thus, you replace your hand with your ear, resting your head on his chest as you try to at least hear his heartbeat.

Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump.

It's faint but you can hear it... and it's beating quite fast for a vampire. You've heard that vampires have a slower heart rate than everyone else's and right now, you'd say his heart is beating pretty fast, just slightly above an average human's. You can feel his breathing too, it's a bit laboured.

When you pull away to look back up at him, you're greeted by a blushing Heeseung who asks you with a small smile, "Get it?"

Is he trying to say that you make him nervous?

Shaking your head no at him, you're still a bit confused as to what he's trying to convey. At your response, he sighs, runs his hand through his hair and then whispers to you, "How am I supposed to calm down when you're kissing me?"

That's when the realisation hits you. "Oh..." you whisper, now getting it.

"Yeah..." he whispers back then lightly chuckles. Placing his hand on the door behind you a moment later, he leans into you and continues in a low voice, "You wanna know how you can calm me down?"

That low voice makes you feel weird things, you just can't resist entertaining him when he speaks like that. "What?" You ask, your voice also low.

"You can hug me." Raising an eyebrow at him, you hum for him to continue, a bit surprised at the answer. "I like hugs," he continues with a boyish smile.

"You want a hug?"

With the same smile, he softly says, "Yeah."

"If you say please, I'll give you one."

He wastes no time. "Please," he says with a bright smile and hopeful eyes.

How could you say no to him when he looks so cute? So you hug him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head on his shoulder. He immediately hugs you back, his grip on you a bit tight but you don't mind, not when he feels so warm and comforting.

After a long moment of just hugging each other, you can't help but playfully ask, "Are you calm now?"

"I don't know," he starts. "Maybe you can check my pulse to find out?"

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he says that. You're not sure what he's hoping to get out of it — maybe he just wants your hands on his neck... or maybe he just likes to tease you. Whatever it is, you can't help but roll your eyes.

Suddenly, a fun idea pops up inside your head and you nonchalantly reply, "Okay."

Grabbing his face with both of your hands, you pull his head back to look at his neck. As your hands move to make him look up, your eyes take in every millimetre of his neck, specifically the spaces underneath his jawline, trying to find a pulse. Fortunately, it doesn't take you a long time.

"W-wait wait wait wait-" He gasps as your tongue probes at his pulse, his hands now moving to grip your shoulders. You only did it to tease him — you like it when he's flustered, but surprisingly, you can actually feel his pulse underneath your tongue. Intrigued, you pause your actions to count his heart rate, as weird and funny as that sounds.

You're not really surprised when you feel it beating rapidly. After a few seconds, he gives out a shaky exhale and says, "Is this a normal thing humans do?"

You chuckle at his words and then quickly bite down on the spot. He gives out a choked moan in response and further tightens his grip on your shoulder. "Aw, is baby flustered?" You tease him, unable to help yourself.

He can only whine your name as your tongue starts swirling around the same spot.

"You're so responsive... I love it," you whisper to him, your voice making him shiver. "And to think, I'm only playing with your neck. Is it that sensitive?"

As you start sucking on the small bit of skin in between your teeth, his jaw moves in an attempt to answer you but you don't hear his voice at all — he doesn't speak, not even when you're done giving him a hickey, not even when you're done giving him three. Pulling back, you take a moment to admire the small bruises on his neck but as time goes by and nothing changes, you begin to realise something.

"Why aren't they disappearing?" You comment, a bit alarmed.

However, Heeseung doesn't seem that concerned. He shrugs it off and replies with half-lidded eyes, "Ah, it's fine, it'll go away eventually."

"Is that normal?" You ask, still a bit hesitant.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry."

Deciding to take his word for it, you continue leaving hickeys on his neck. He hums in approval, his breathing hot and heavy and you eventually lose count of how many you actually gave him. When you pull back to look at his neck again, it's already half-covered with small bruises; all of them still bright red.

Just the sight of it makes something inside you snap and you can't help but ask him, "You don't mind me touching you right, Hee baby?"

With his head a bit dizzy, Heeseung struggles a bit to speak, "N-no, you can... you can touch me all you want."

"I can touch you anywhere?" You smirk, already knowing what you're going to do to him.

"Anywhere you want," he softly replies.

At his words, your hands waste no time moving to his torso, touching every part of it from his shoulders, then to his collarbones, then to his chest. His breath hitches when your hands move across his nipples but you don't stop to play with them — you continue moving your hands down to his abdomen. As you do so, you ask him, "I can touch you here?"

"Mhmm." His eyes automatically close as he says that, wanting to focus on your hands touching his body.

Seeing him relaxed and full of anticipation at the same time only spurs you on and so, you move one of your hands to squeeze his ass. He gasps and jumps in response, not expecting that to happen.

"What about here?" Your teasing tone only seems to make him melt.

"Y-yeah," he breathlessly says as he rests his head on your shoulder, his hands now gripping your waist.

Further teasing him, you slowly move your hand from his ass to grip his dick through his pants. "Even here?" You ask him with a raised eyebrow.

He can't stop himself from moaning and pushing back into your hand at the contact. But before he could reply, you're already talking while feeling him up, "Wow, you're already kinda hard. Does this turn you on, hm? Being groped like a whore?"

Giving out another moan, he starts grinding into your hand as if to show you how turned on he is. He doesn't say anything but you can practically guess what he's thinking right inside his head; feel it, feel how hard you make me. You push your hand against his dick harder and he hisses in response. "You like that? Being my whore? Letting me play with your dick however I want, whenever I want?"

"Yes," he moans. "Just use me."

"Now, now. Where are your manners?" You ask as your other hand starts playing with his left nipple through his shirt.

At first, he stays quiet for a while, not wanting to answer you but as your fingers pinch his nipple, he jumps and squeaks out, "Please!"

"Please what?" You can feel his dick getting harder through his pants and just to tease him further, you play with his tip, pressing and swirling your thumb against it over and over again.

With a groan, he relents surprisingly quickly, "Please use me how-however you want. I really need your hands on me, please."

"I'm already touching you though?"

"No..." He trails off with a hiss. "Can I please take off my pants?"

As you feign thinking, he hurriedly continues, "Please, I need to feel your hands on my dick, please? I'll do whatever you want, I'm your whore. Just please touch me, it feels really good. I need it so much. Please."

"Needy today, huh?" It's a bit surprising, honestly, you were expecting him to give more of a fight based on the last time you hooked up, but nevertheless, he's still cute. Plus, it makes your job easier.

In response, he just hums, simply agreeing with whatever you're saying without a second thought. Satisfied with his pleas and answers, you tell him that he can take his pants off and he quickly does so, his movements hurried and sloppy, desperate to get it off as quick as he can. Once his pants are discarded on the floor like a metre away, you pull him into you by gripping his hips and then you pin him to the door right behind you.

Immediately, he leans against it and his hands go to grip your waist again but you quickly grab his wrists and pin them right beside his head. Leaning closer to his ear, you sternly tell him, "Keep your hands there, got it?"

He gulps and nods at your authoritative tone. You then take a good look at his dick since you didn't really get to last time — you notice that it's lanky, average girth, with a slight curve to the left and circumcised. It's also hard but that's already obvious. In a way, it suits him and you think it's pretty, just like him.

When you look back up at him, you can't help but smile at the shy expression he gives you. Whispering into his ear, you say, "You have such a pretty dick... but do you know how to use it?"

Biting his lip, he slowly shakes his head no. As your right hand go to unbutton his shirt, you continue, unable to mask the excitement in your voice, "Well that doesn't matter. I can always teach you how." You let your fingers brush along his shaft, your touch barely there as you continue, "And when you do learn, I might let you fuck me one day." The response he gives you is cute; he quickly nods his head and pleads with you. "Would you like that?"

"Yes," he gasps, trying his best to not buck his hips. "Please."

"Alright, baby." Finally deciding to give him what he wants and put him out of his misery, you spit on your hand and start stroking his dick. Your spit makes your hand move easily and after a few moments of stroking, he gives out a loud moan, throwing his head back when you suddenly squeeze his dick — hard.

"You want people to hear us again?" You teasingly comment.

He nods and replies, "Yes... wanna... let them know... how... good you make me... feel."

"How dirty." You can't stop your smile of fondness from appearing or the chuckle that comes right after.

"I'm... your whore... remember?" Despite being paired with gasps and moans, his remark still manages to come out playful.

"Go ahead then, baby." He whimpers as your hand starts stimulating his tip. "Let everyone know who's making you feel so good. Your voice is too pretty for you to be quiet anyway."

Your right hand finally finishes unbuttoning his shirt. Without wasting any second, you touch his bare skin, running your hand all over his torso. His body's response intrigues you; everywhere your fingers go, his skin beneath you twitches and you're just using your hands. Imagine using your mouth — luckily, you don't need to imagine since he's right there.

The sound of his moan is so loud this time that it almost echoes across the room if it weren't for the room having many carpets. And to think that all you did was lick his chest. Granted, you did pinch his nipple while tightly squeezing his balls as you do so but who cares? He's so fun to play with, you just want to keep him like this for hours... but unfortunately, you're pretty sure that class is about to start soon, which means many people walking through the hallways.

Thus, you pick up the pace, trying to get him to quickly reach his high. Your left hand quickly moves up and down his shaft, your right hand goes to fondle his balls and your mouth starts sucking on one of his nipples — you doubt he's going to last long since his body is so sensitive. And based on his constant moaning and twitching, you can tell that you're right.

As you continue, he suddenly speaks, "I... I can't get our first time out of my head. I-it's like- it's like you're... haunting me." He moans when you lightly bite down on his nipple, his hips accidentally bucking into your hand. "Every time I close my eyes... I remember it again... I see it vividly... and I... I want to do it again with you... Did you... put a love spell on me... or something?"

As he continues to talk, a small uneasy feeling makes itself known to you — the kind of feeling that makes you feel as if something is wrong. It makes you furrow your eyebrows in suspicion as to what it could possibly be... but as you look at the man in front of you, you quickly understand. Just one look at him and you can tell that he's not in his right state of mind and you're pretty sure that he's just blurting out whatever's coming to his mind at this time. You can't shake away the thought that whatever he's saying right now is too private. You don't believe you should hear this, at least, not right now.

Worrying that he might end up regretting whatever he's saying, you tell him, "Heeseung, I don't want to hear anything else come out of your mouth except those pretty sounds you make, okay?"

And just to be safe, you insert two of your fingers into his mouth. As your fingers press against his tongue, he hums in response, closing his mouth and then he starts sucking on them. His tongue swirls around your fingers as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes.

Your hand goes to abuse his tip, your thumb swirling the precum around and pressing down on it again and again while your other hand continues to keep his mouth busy. His body shakes at your actions and suddenly, he quickly pulls your hand away from his mouth to say something.

"I'm gonna cum, what if-"

"You can cum, Hee baby. Go on, cum for me. You can do that for me, right?" Your voice sounds so sweet that he just wants to do whatever you say.

"But it- it's gonna get messy..." he whines and trails off. Despite his worries, his hips start bucking uncontrollably into your hand, trying to catch his high anyway — he doesn't want to stop but a small part of his conscious brain still worries about how he'll clean up his mess.

"Don't worry, baby. We can clean it up," you reassure him. "Go on, be a good boy and cum for me. And keep your hands back up."

"Okay- I..." He puts his hands back up and sucks in a deep breath as he feels himself reaching his high. That conscious part of him from earlier disappears and now, he's almost chanting, "Thank you. Thank you thank you thank-"

The moment you start harshly sucking on his neck again, he's gone; with a loud and long moan, his hips thrust into your hand and streams of cum messily come out of him, getting all over your hand, onto your pants and even onto the floor. His body is shuddering and his eyes are rolled to the back of his head as your hand starts milking him for all he's got.

You coo at him, "Good boy, baby. Such a good boy for me."

"Please-" He squeaks, head thrown back against the door. You don't stop touching him though, not even when his streaks of cum stop coming out, not even when he starts uncontrollably trembling at every touch of your hand. One of your hands continues to quickly stroke his dick while the other fondles his balls, alternating from left and right. As you squeeze them, he gasps and whimpers your name.

"You're being such a good boy, baby... just taking whatever I give you." You start licking his chest, from his navel to his nipple. Heeseung shuts his eyes tight as his body continues to tremble against his will, his hands now in fists beside his head. As you play with his nipple, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, his back arches and he can't stop himself from thrusting in and out of your hand.

"You can cum for me one more time, right?"

He groans in response, nodding. "A-a... any... thiiing... f-for... y-you."

Letting go of his nipple to whisper in his ear, you say, "Right, you did say that you're my whore."

"Y-yes, yes, yes." He gasps.

So you continue touching and stimulating him until he cums again. Throughout it, he doesn't speak at all, only making pretty noises while his body trembles. It doesn't take long before he cums again. This time, it comes as a surprise — he didn't tell you that he's close. Perhaps he, himself didn't know that he was or maybe he wasn't paying attention, too busy being lost in his own bliss. Either way, based on his reaction, it seems that he's also surprised; he cums with a scream, his voice echoes throughout the room, his eyes tightly closed, and his hips stop moving but he's still trembling all over as another shot of his cum comes out of him.

So gorgeous.

You slow down your movements, not wanting to push him too much, until you eventually stop. Heeseung pants in front of you, looking helpless and blissed out.

"See, I knew you had it in you." As you slowly coax him back to reality, you slowly become aware of how uncomfortably wet your panties are. But you push that aside for now.

It takes him a moment to come back to reality and when he does, he still feels a bit dizzy. His hands go to grip your shoulder and waist for support and you hug him to soothe and comfort him, rubbing your hand on his back — the hand that's cleaner than the other. A moment later, he breathes out a soft thank you, feeling a bit spent.

"I'll... clean everything up," he breathlessly says while hugging you. You pat his head while his arms wrap themselves tightly around you.

"That's okay, baby. I have tissues in my bag. We'll clean it up together, yeah?"

He doesn't answer you and instead, asks for a kiss. Of course, you give it to him. How could you ever say no to this man? The kiss is unsurprisingly hot, heavy and messy, your tongues intertwine together just like your breaths. He moans into it and then pulls back to kiss your neck.

"Your turn?" He whispers into your neck, his breath hot against it. You close your eyes as he starts kissing and licking your neck, his tongue hot and wet swirling on a certain spot. You grab his shoulder as he continues, and then, a moment later, you feel his sharp fangs graze against your neck but before you could make sense of what's happening, he quickly pulls away, stopping himself.

"Sorry, can I-" He gives out a shaky breath. "I wanna... make you cum." He whispers out the last part. It was so soft that you almost didn’t hear it.

"You wanna make me cum?" You whisper back, your eyes still closed, now fully aware of the tension in between your legs.

"Yeah." His hands tenderly touch your body as he says that, going down from your shoulder to your breast and finally coming to rest on your waist.

"Sure."

He kisses you again but compared to your last few kisses, this one's short. Pulling away from you, he says, "We should- uh... change positions? Would it be easier for you?"

"Ah, yeah, okay." Despite your voice sounding nonchalant, your pussy throbs at the anticipation of finally getting the attention it craves. After you both change positions, with you now leaning against the wall and him in front of you, his hands go to unbutton your shirt and unhook your bra as he kisses you.

Gripping his hair, you pull him away from you — which earns you a moan. "Go fast, I think it's almost time for class."

"There's still tons of time," he reassures you. "Barely anyone has class in this building anyway. Don't worry."

Trying to reassure you, he gives you a smile and goes back to tenderly kissing your neck. It seems that there's a clash of wants — you just want to cum while he probably just wants to take his time with you. You're about to protest but his hands and mouth on your body make you change your mind, at least for now. With his hands kneading your breasts and his mouth slowly moving from your neck to your breasts, you give out a defeated sigh.

"Fine."

With a triumphant smile, he mumbles a thank you into your skin. His mouth is now sucking your left breast, his tongue swirling around your areola and the nub, making your pussy wetter by the second. The urge to touch your pussy grows as he continues his actions. One of his hands plays with your right breast while the other goes to unbutton your pants.

All of a sudden, he lightly bites down on your breast and you jump in response, unable to stop your moan from coming out. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good."

He moans too but his moan comes out muffled against your breast. After a while, your hand grips his hair and he hisses as you move his mouth to your other breast. "Keep going baby, you're doing so good. Such a good boy for me, aren't you?"

The praise only spurs him on, his movements now getting bolder. Wasting no time, he begins to kiss it and then lick it, until finally, he takes it into his mouth, harshly sucking on the mound. You hiss and arch your back in response. With your pants now on the ground, your legs start to feel cold but your core is still hot and wet, demanding attention.

Eventually, he finally moves on, leaving your breasts to kiss down to your navel. Every kiss he leaves you is tender yet hot against your skin, just like his hands on your body. Once he reaches your navel, he kneels down and as you let him put one of your legs over his shoulder, his face is now very close to your crotch. Even so, he still doesn't give your pussy any attention yet. Instead, he starts at your inner thighs, specifically the one on his shoulder, slowly licking up closer and closer to your heat as his hands continuously move up and down your thighs. He stops where your thigh meets your groin and starts taking a small bit of your skin into his mouth to suck and bite on it.

You let him leave a hickey there — it's not like you can't hide it anyway. After he's done, he pulls away to admire his mark on you with a small satisfied smile but just as you thought he'd finally start eating you out, he starts the same thing over again, except this time, on your other thigh. You groan, beginning to get frustrated.

He seems to find it amusing, given by the fact that you can feel him softly chuckling into your thigh as he kisses it. "Heeseung." Your stern yet breathless voice only makes him smirk.

"Hmm?"

"You're being a brat," you hiss at him.

Pulling away from your thigh, he looks up at you with a defiant smirk and coyly says, "I'm only taking my time."

But as he moves to continue his actions, your authoritative voice makes him pause and shiver. "Heeseung, I will literally slap you." You're in no mood to take things slow, you just want to cum. That's all you want — to finally release all this built-up tension in your pussy.

"Kinky," he mumbles with a pout. It's not because he doesn't like being slapped — it's actually something he's willing to try especially during sex as long as you like it, but he's just pouting because he didn't get to-

Giving a frustrated sigh, you say to him, "You can leave a hickey there after I cum, damn it."

His face lights up as you say that and his hand grips your thigh. "Promise?"

"Yes!" You hiss. "Now be a good boy and make me cum."

Wasting no time, he hums and nods at your command, moving his mouth to your clothed pussy. He buries his nose and mouth in your heat, you can't stop a moan from escaping at the contact. His mouth starts kissing you, over and over again as his nose bumps against your clit.

"Fuck," you mutter, your hands gripping his hair tighter as he starts licking a long strip. It's relieving honestly — your pussy finally getting the attention it so craves... but it's not enough. You want his mouth on you, without anything else in the way. Thus, you tell him to take it off and he hums, acknowledging your command... but after a while, your panties are still on and he hasn't made a move to remove it, he just keeps on slowly eating you out with a smirk. When you finally realise that he's doing this deliberately, you snap.

"Heeseung!" Your voice is louder than you expected. "Take them off, for fuck's sake." Then, as if your mouth is on auto-pilot, you continue, "Do you want me to fucking slap you, huh? Is that what you want? You want me to fucking snap, don't you? Want me to pin you down and fuck you till your brain doesn't work anymore?"

At your words, Heeseung feels a bit intimidated but he can't help but also feel turned on at the same time. He moans into you and as he pulls away to pull down your panties, you continue, "Finally starting to take me seriously, huh? You're such a fucking brat, I swear to God, Heeseung. You just want to get punished, don't you?"

"God, you're so wet," he moans into you when he finally buries his face into your pussy again, without your panties this time.

Finally feeling his mouth on your heat, you moan in relief, pushing his head closer to your pussy while leaning against the door. His tongue starts licking up all your juices while his nose continuously bumps against your clit. Then, he starts sucking it, causing you to arch your back. "Fuck. That's right baby, keep going," you say, your tone now way calmer than before.

He hums into you as he continues to eat you out just the way you like, swirling and pressing his tongue against your pussy, sucking it, slurping up all of your juices. Your free hand now goes to play with your breast, massaging it while stimulating your nipple at the same time. His cums smears on your breasts as you do so but you couldn't care less about being clean right now.

When he inserts his tongue into your core, you loudly moan, your hand squeezing your breast tightly. And as he continues, sliding his tongue in and out of you, your pussy starts tightening around it and you gasp, "Fuck, I'm getting close. Don't you dare stop, you little brat, you hear me? I know you're thinking about it."

Gripping his hair tightly, you grind his face into your pussy, using him like a toy as you keep up a steady rhythm. He doesn't mind, of course he doesn't. He did say that you can use him however you want. And to help you reach your high, his hand moves to stimulate your clit, rubbing it in circles.

Here it comes, the release you've been seeking; there's that familiar knot in your stomach and with the help of his mouth and hand, you finally reach your climax with a moan, cumming all over his face as you bask in your release. Heeseung continues eating you out throughout it, taking in all of your juices in his mouth, not letting a single drop escape. His movements grow slower as time goes by until he eventually stops and pulls away, only to leave that hickey he so wanted on your thigh.

By the time he's done, you've gained your consciousness back. Still breathing heavily, you caress his head and softly say, "Thanks."

He licks your thigh one last time and then gets up to kiss you, wrapping his arms around you in a hug while doing so. You let him, not really bothered by the taste of you in his mouth. But the kiss doesn't last long since you're still breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," you say after pulling away from him.

"It's okay," he says, resting his forehead against yours, his breathing also still heavy. Your hands move to cup his face and with a swipe of your thumb, you collect your cum on his face and feed it back to him. His lips part when your thumb touches them, and he obediently sucks it without protest.

"Good boy," you praise.

You pull your thumb away from his mouth. As his arms unwrap themselves from you, you lean against the door and give out a heavy sigh. Looking back at him, you say, "We should clean ourselves up and get dressed."

With a nod, he agrees, going to get the tissues from your bag that was by the piano. When he comes back with it, you both clean up the mess you both made; first, you both clean yourselves — although Heeseung prefers to clean you more with his mouth than with the tissues, then, you clean the floor and the door that still had streaks of his cum on them, and finally, you clean your clothes.

It's when he buttons up his shirt, you notice something strange.

"The hickeys are still there," you mention, now alarmed again.

Heeseung also gets alarmed, quickly taking out his phone to see himself but then chuckles a second later when he sees how he looks through the screen. "Damn, I looked fucked up," he mumbles.

His hand grazes the still bright red bruises on his neck and his eyebrows furrow at them when he doesn't see them healing. He turns to you and asks, "Did you drink something?"

"What?" You question as your hands are buttoning your shirt.

"Did you drink a potion or something today?" He asks, still looking at himself through the screen, his eyes looking slightly dark.

You pause your actions as you try to remember.

Potion...

Oh!

You remember now. It was during Tuesday's alchemy class where Heeseung unfortunately wasn't there. You remember that your lecturer taught the class about a new potion. Apparently, it's a consumption potion which means it only works if you consume it and he so kindly let you drink some of it after he finished explaining its properties. The colour of it was a very rich shade of blue and it smelled like the ocean... but the taste was... unpleasant, to say the least.

His voice rings across your mind, "So what it does is that it drastically slows down someone's regeneration ability, not yours but anyone you touch. Use with caution, alright. Don't be killing anyone. That's against the law."

"Oh... yeah, yeah I did. During alchemy class yesterday," you say, continuing to get dressed.

"Was it blue?" He puts his phone back in his pocket and continues buttoning his shirt.

"Yeah."

"Ah... no wonder."

You expect him to continue speaking but instead, he keeps quiet and simply tries to smooth out the wrinkles on his shirt. Eventually, you ask him a question that's on your mind, hoping that he's not annoyed or angry at you for leaving too many obvious hickeys on his neck. "But what are you gonna do?"

Please don't be angry at me.

"Oh, for these?" He shows you his neck, tapping the bruises on it. Then, with a smirk, he continues, "I'll keep them. Thanks."

"Are you sure?" You stare at him, surprised at his response.

Nodding, he reassures you, "Yeah, It's no problem. It'll go away eventually."

For the second time today, you decide to take his word for it. However, you can't help but wonder how long the potion's effect will last — maybe a couple of days? Hopefully not.

When you both finally finish making yourselves look presentable again, the comfortable silence you both share suddenly turns tense and awkward. You're unsure why but the reason makes itself known to you as you make your way to grab your bag.

Heeseung calls out your name. He sounds a bit nervous as he softly asks you, "What are we?"

Grabbing your bag, you think about it for a couple of seconds. "Hm, I guess... friends with benefits?"

"Oh..." He slowly nods, looking down at the floor.

"Unless you don't want that. This can be a one-time thing if you want."

"Nono, I-" He quickly says. "I just..." Taking a deep breath, he brings his head up to make eye contact with you and continues, his voice soft and a bit unsure, "I want something more..."

You look at him as soon as you hear that; he stands there, still near the door, with his posture straight and his face serious as he looks at you. "What?" You can't help but say.

Gathering all his courage, he nods to himself and continues, "I want to date you."

Surprise is the only word that describes how you feel right now. Never in a million years would you ever think that someone here actually likes you, much less want to date you. You've never even thought about dating a supernatural before either. And although you do like Heeseung... you're still unsure if you like him more than just a friend or not. Unsure of how to reply to his sudden confession, you end up just staring at him.

At your lack of response, his cheeks begin to turn pink again and says in a shaky voice, "If that's... a bit too much then it's alright." He gives you a reassuring smile, hoping that you don't feel pressured to reciprocate his feelings. "I don't mind just being friends with you."

"Heeseung, I'm sorry, I'm not too sure," you begin. "I mean, you're the only person who's been kind to me here. I'm not sure if I like you that way... and I wouldn't want you to fall in love with me, only for me to realise later that I never really liked you more than a friend in the first place."

Silence fills the air again as he takes in your words.

"Would you... give me a chance, at least?" He finally says. "Like at least let me take you on a date? Please?" As he looks at you with such cute and innocent eyes, you find yourself smiling at him. "I can show you the world if you want..." and ever so softly, he says his next sentence, "If you promise to show me yours."

His voice sounds melodious as he says that — you could hear the genuineness and hopefulness in his voice. And as you both stand there, just staring at each other, you begin to think to yourself; why not?

"Where would you take me?"

His face immediately lights up as you say that and you can't help but laugh at his cuteness.

"Anywhere you want," he replies with a bright smile, the kind of smile that could make the whole world stop and stare.

"Okay," you softly say, walking closer to him and giving him your hand.

For the first time in your life, you find yourself feeling excited about leaving your dorm, you find yourself anticipating to explore the world that you were so hesitant to get to know. It's as if your worries about laying low suddenly don't exist. And even though you're not really dating, you still can't stop the wide smile on your face as he meets you halfway, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together.

"Thank you," he whispers, bringing your hand to his lips to place a soft kiss on it.

"Thank you," you reply.

"For what?" He looks at you with a smile, slightly confused at your words.

Many things — for being kind to you, for being your friend, for not judging you just because you're human, and honestly, many more. But what comes out of your mouth is a simple, "Not every human has the honour of having a potential vampire boyfriend."

His laugh is bright and rich, music to your ears. His eyes crinkle as he laughs and his smile is wide. Just the sight of him laughing wholeheartedly makes your heart feel full. When he finishes laughing, his demeanour changes a bit to a playful one, leaning closer to whisper in your ear with that low voice and that signature boyish smile, "I can be much more than a vampire boyfriend."

"I have no doubt about it," you say to him as you try to calm down your beating heart.

Grabbing your bag from you with his other hand, he says, "Let me walk you to your dorm."

"Okay."

As you both reach the door, you take a look back and scan the room, just to make sure that everything's as it should be. You look back at him when you're done; he has his hand on the door as he asks you, "Ready?"

Nodding at him, you let him open the door and walk you to your dorm, your hands entwine together the whole walk.

[mariacrow]

hello my fellow ratchet apologist!! love your works! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

do you think you could write some sweet and cute sleeping hcs with Ratchet? I just wanna lay on him or him lay on me <3

(ps. this is ur opportunity to write those snoring hcs too 🤭)

thank you for your love on my works too! have a great day/night <3

ROOOOSE I was bouncing off DA WALLS when I saw ur request (it’s not like I immediately started bombing you with love in ur dms nope not at all- me? Naaah never)

THANK U SO MUCH AGAIN AGH!!! 🧡 One grumpy doc hc coming up fresh out da oven! 🚑 hope u like it, love ya 🧡

GRUMPY DOC LOVERS UNITE! 🚑🧡

ʚ Ratchet x reader ɞ

ﾟ｡ ⋆ ☁︎｡ ☽ sleeping headcanons ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ☁︎｡

2nd person

female reader

WARNING: SNORING GRUMPY DOC!

Does he look like he needs sleep?? HE NEEDS ANSWERS!!!

Kidding. He definitely needs stasis. ASAP.

It would be hard to drag him away from work, you'd have to be stubborn to the point you annoy his way to bed

Later you'd realize puppy eyes and a pretty please also works on him which would make his cheek plates go slightly blue

He loves to have you next to him or on top of him, either way nicely tucked in, wrapped in a little blanket burrito because he can't risk you getting cold

His servos... oh his beautiful gentle servos... He'd play with your hair or rub your back to soothe you. He wouldn't speak much but here and there you might hear his handsome voice through a romantic whisper saying:

Ratchet: are you comfortable enough?

or

Ratchet: my sleeping beauty...

Did he do research on Disney princesses to find a proper nickname for you because you're his princess? Perhaps.

He would always watch over you before you fall asleep. Even when you do, he'd stay up a bit longer, listen to your peaceful breathing and focus on your calm heartbeat while dozens of thoughts would be running through his mind, keeping a tiny smile on his face

He always keeps one of his servos around you no matter what

He's a light sleeper so he'd hear every little shuffle you make and slightly open his optic to check on you. If your blanket has slid off of you, he'd gently tuck you back in every time and plant a soft kiss on your temple

If he really overworks himself (and I'm talking 3 days without stasis) a bomb could barely wake him up. If he ends up on his back, he snores, like, real loud. It would definitely wake you up and you'd be greeted by a funny sight of your old grumpy doc with an open mouth, shaking the whole base with his snoring

Considering you wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, you'd have to give him a little nudge or gently caress his face plate to which he'd mumble something in his sleep while getting comfortable on his side as he'd stop snoring

He always wakes up before you, no exceptions. He needs to wake up early and go back to work

He always gives you a kiss on the cheek or forehead before leaving. If you'd tug at his servo and tell him to stay a little longer, he'd refuse of course

But your sleepy little begging would drag him back to bed nevertheless. He'd stay for about 30 minutes longer, listen to your cute sleepy voice and yawning, smiling while having a little morning chit chat with you

He loves your messy morning hair, it's so adorable to him

If you have longer hair and prefer tying it while sleeping, in the morning he'd help you fix your ponytail/braid(s) (whatever you prefer). Same goes if you wear a bonnet, he'd make sure it doesn't fall off throughout the night as well

If you brush your hair, he'd love brushing it for you or make your braid(s) e.g., whatever you ask him to do. He isn't afraid of the size difference, he's confident and very gentle, he learned his way with you

If you oversleep often, he'd scold you the moment you show up, telling you how it's unhealthy and blahblah

If your sleeping schedule is not sleeping at all, ironically enough, he'd tell you not be like him and how sleep is necessary for your species, how stasis works differently, how you should blahblahblah he can be such a parent but he does that because he cares for you

If you're a morning person and go to bed on time, he'd praise you for that

He'd make sure you have breakfast every morning even if it means feeding you because breakfast is the most important meal of the day!!!

What I was listening to while writing this 🧡

Dividers belong to @dvluc , @firefly-graphics , @animatedglittergraphics-n-more 🧡

[himbosandhardwear]

The first time Steve saw Eddie being a DM, it was because their session ran over the time Dustin said they'd be done, so Steve had gone inside the school to see what the holdup was. He could hear them yelling in the theater, clearly not finished, but Steve had never actually seen them play so he let his curiosity carry him inside. When he saw Eddie seated at the head of the table, at a literal throne, he snorted. It was so performative, holding court like a fucking king. Who the hell did he think he was?

The second time he got to see Eddie DMing was after Vecna, after his stay in the hospital, after the stress of it all waned and they were able to go back to a semi-normal life. Again, he was only there for the tail end of it, but because they were nearly finished he got to watch Eddie standing tall this time, still performing but captivating in his monologue. Steve stayed and watched the whole thing.

This third time, he knows something has fundamentally changed. He's sitting in the corner, on the sofa in Mike Wheeler's basement, trying not to drool and failing. Eddie is just sitting there, watching the Party argue over defensive strategies, but this time Steve has seen what he'd missed the first time: Eddie isn't performing his authority. He might look relaxed, all loose limbed on his throne, fingers steepled against his lips, eyes slowly tracking the progress, but Steve has now seen how Eddie can quell them with a look. He can control the narrative with one word. Gentle or sharp, he rules the table.

It's the sexiest thing Steve has ever seen. He's breathless with it. He can hardly remember why he thought Eddie sprawled out on that throne at the highschool was ridiculous. The space between Eddie's thighs right now is begging for Steve's shoulders to wedge right in.

He feels crazed with it. Thank god the basement is poorly lit and he's tucked into the dark, because he's pretty sure he looks like a flasher hiding in the bushes.

Maybe it's just wishful thinking but he thinks maybe Eddie would be receptive to Steve hitting on him. He's been thinking about the day a few weeks back, when they'd been fixing up Hop’s cabin and he'd caught Eddie staring at him. It wasn't overt or anything but Steve did have his shirt off and had been wiping sweat off his face with his forearm. Maybe it was nothing. But the more he has to sit and watch Eddie throw his metaphorical weight around, the more blood is leaving his brain and traveling south. So, yeah, he's gonna go for it.

The kids let out a wild cry, jumping and hollering like monkeys, and Steve figures now is his chance. They're all busy celebrating and packing up so no one notices Steve sliding past them toward Eddie's chair. Eddie does, he watches Steve approach until Steve moves behind him.

He bends low, tucks himself right up against Eddie's ear and whispers, “Any chance you'd wanna break into the highschool with me?”

Eddie turns his head enough to whisper back. “Maybe. Why?”

He places a hand on the back of Eddie's chair, the other sinks down until he can get ahold of Eddie's thigh. “Because I've got this fantasy involving you and your old Hellfire throne and I wanna see if we can make it happen.”

He's never been more smooth, he's so proud of himself, but of course Eddie has to ruin it by jumping and bashing his knees into the underside of the table. He stares up at Steve like Steve has told him he's under arrest.

“Are you fucking with me?”

He stares back. “No.”

Eddie looks him over. Steve lets him.

He finds himself being pulled by the wrist and yanked across the room.

“Nobody touch my shit!” Eddie yells as they rush upstairs. “I'll be back for it later.”

They don't make it to the highschool but the back of Eddie's van is a decent second choice.

[theminecraftbee]

fic masterpost

last updated: august 2024

note that this masterpost does not include tumblr-exclusive fics, because i write those as effectively "sketches"; they're practice and meant to be easy for me, so i deliberately don't 'take them seriously' enough to list them here. (also, there are probably over a hundred at this point.) you can find the tumblr exclusive fics in the tag 'a bee fic' if you're looking for them.

additionally: for ANY of my fics, you can always DM me to ask me to give you spoilers if the tags and summary do not give you enough information to decide if you want to read the fic or if the fic might contain one of your triggers. just let me know in a way i can respond privately, and i will give you that information!

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multichapter fics

this is about a stuffed bird, hermitcraft, T (warning: a bordeline M), 78k. in which an apocalypse happens that turns much of humanity into horrible monsters, mumbo gets a distressing call from grian and decides to travel across the country to meet him. still my most popular hermitcraft fic and my second-most popular fic overall. heavy on body horror, themes of what makes someone a person, and also evil x is here. i still love the mumbo voice in this, and it even has a complete podfic by quackingfish if you prefer audiobooks.

the continued adventures of the boatem road trip, hermitcraft, T, 28k. a series of events that take place as boatem is trapped in the void together for three months after big moon. originally written as a series of vaguely-connected oneshots on tumblr, gathered here into one place. the ending is a little abrupt, but if you're looking for something with the highest concentration of some of my favorite jokes i've made sitting right next to some good old cosmic horror, this is the fic for you.

the last days of the free angel of carrows, hermitcraft, T, 79k. the angel joe hills and the zombie cleo, owners of the atsign agency, investigate a strange mystery brought to them by pearl, and must save their city as they go. a noir-inspired urban fantasy i originally wrote for a big bang, and still my longest fic! it's got some of my favorite worldbuilding i've done, a great joe-and-cleo plot, a pearl i'm still obsessed with, and so much angel symbolism. if you like aus or urban fantasies, this is the one of my fics you should read.

solving counting sheep, evo, T, 78k. blade-three, living weapon of the watchers, is stolen by martyn after martyn finds its command words and taken home to jimmy to try to rehabilitate. what neither the property police or three itself know is that three is the ultimate fate of grian, their friend who they presumed dead. a fic that is very VERY much about identity and learning who you are, and also plays into many of my favorite living weapon and watcher!grian tropes--as well as subverts them in some heavy ways. probably one of the most personal fics i've ever written, as well. my understanding is that both people who like watcher!grian and people who hate it like this fic, which i take as praise.

the carriers, life series, M, 40k. PET mail (the group made up of Pearl, Etho, and Tango) are mail carriers after the zombie apocalypse, as well as asymptomatic carriers of the zombie virus. when cleo, a person from pearl's past, asks them to bring her a package, they go on a journey that barrels through all three of their pasts. this one is rated M for two specific reasons (both violence) but if you're chill with violence this one turned out pretty well! it is a very me take on a zombie apocalypse, what with the fact that the remnants of heavy industry are almost as much of a threat as the zombies, and a fic that leans pretty heavily on the double life soulmate pairs.

san luis, dream smp, T, 23k, perpetually unfinished. after the other three members of sbi die, philza tries to put back together the pieces. it would be easier if he wasn't hearing their ghosts. this is a fic i'm unfortunately unlikely to finish because it just makes me too sad to write after irl events, but it has some of my best handling of grief, and i know it brings some people comfort. if you don't mind me at my most unrelentingly sad, or are looking for that, i might still recommend it.

in deference to saint george, original superhero work, T, 42k. superhero superball, aka jack harlan, starts dating a customer he meets at the coffee shop he works at, while at the same time dealing with the attacks of the villain dragon and natural disasters. a hero/villain fic with a very ME kind of ending, i am still SUPER PROUD of this. i think the worldbuilding and characters work and it's my proof to myself i can write ow! also, if you've always wanted to read a superhero au from me, good news: this may not be an au, but it's very much exactly that.

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long oneshots

consequentialism, hermitcraft, M, 5k. as the members of boatem start falling in the boatem hole, their own dead bodies start showing up. peak "WOULD THAT BE FUCKED UP OR WHAT" horror from me, and also the first hermitcraft fic i ever wrote! if you like my horror writing and aren't too squeamish, good news: this exists.

to convey a certain brilliance, hermitcraft, T, 21k. joe hills and zombiecleo slowly, and through many death loops, drag their way out of their collapsed base to try to survive after a lunar apocalypse. this is the second hermitcraft fic i ever wrote and i wrote it before we knew how moon's big would end, inspired by super hostile; people still tell me it has some of their favorite joe characterization.

cura te ipsum, hermitcraft, T, 15k. tango, in a world where the hermatrix is canon, wakes up on-board the hermethius after dying to the moon and has to try to figure out how to cope. still one of my favorite oneshots i've written, full-stop, and the culmination of all my big moon emotions. it can be considered fully canon-compliant, and it's mostly about all the big emotions something like big moon would cause.

jevin's egg disaster, hermitcraft, G, 7k. the eggs from the season nine egg hunt turn into real children. chaos ensues. this is technically sorted into chapters, and written as a series of very short ficlets on tumblr originally. it doesn't really "conclude" as a result. however this is me on pure crackfic and contains my favorite joke i've ever made (it's in chapter 7 if you're wondering) so PLEASE read it if all the rest of my 'everyone talks about their big feelings' is causing you to need a laugh because it WILL make you laugh.

attempt thirty-three, hermitcraft, T, 14k. joe hills experiences the thirty-third loop of the time loop he's been stuck in, trying to save the world from the rift. a fic exploring the idea of "what happens in that middle part of the time loop when you've been there a while, but don't have things solved yet?" if you like joe hills and you also like hurt/comfort, this is very much a fic with both of those things, and some of my best with both of those things.

a thing that is thicker than starlight, hermitcraft, T, 13k. after reuniting on an adventure through space, long-lost siblings cleo and gem return home and try to figure out where they're supposed to fit into each other's lives. written for recursive exchange and based on "out to the galaxy steady she goes" by thedepressedcanary, although this fic stands on its own. it's a vaguely treasure planet-like au, but it's also MOSTLY about the trauma your parents leave you and the feeling of knowing you're supposed to care about someone (but don't know how to yet). this is my sibling feelings fic, read it for sibling feelings.

the inner mechanism of a black box, dream smp, T, 14k. techno is trapped, isolated, in a horrible version of the prison with only his voices for company. still my most popular fic, and also the fic of mine that is most describable as 'whump'. i still really love the techno writing in this one; it may be the first complete thing i posted to the account but it's still good. written before we knew anything about the prison, and so the situation is entirely speculative; also written before 'techno in prison' really became a genre. you can tell both of these things, for both good and ill.

revenant, dream smp, M, 11k. jack manifold descends back into hell in order to drag tommy back up and out with him. written in a fugue state during the like, three days tommy was still dead. jack manifold is way cooler than he deserves in this fic (he is also EXACTLY as cool as he deserves). to be honest i don't remember why i rated this one M, but not stuffed bird? if you can read stuffed bird you can almost certainly read this. has some of my cooler weird formatting decisions in it and a WAY COOLER VERSION OF HELL THAN THE DSMP GAVE US I'LL STAND BY THAT.

bad beat, dream smp, T, 10k. techno goes to play a high-stakes game of poker against quackity, hoping to win insurance for his friends' lives. do you like card games? i like card games. most of this fic is a thriller in which they are playing poker. both people who like and dislike poker like this fic, though, because the thriller elements still work. also, my one take on casino quackity, so if you like quackity, give it a shot.

a kind of playing heartstrings, empires smp, G, 6k. jimmy invites scott to a cod empire gathering. an older fic of mine that's a cute take on empires flower husbands with a LOT of music culture worldbuilding for the codlands! this is just a fic that makes me feel cozy and happy. it is uncomplicated fluff.

survivorship bias, empires smp, G, 9k. an amnesiac jimmy is fished out of the water and into a surviving village that exists a few decades after the rapture, but still a great deal of time before empires season two will happen. a combination of worldbuilding of that transition period and emotions about jimmy, who doesn't remember why he's sad but certainly feels it. i enjoyed meshing different empires cultures together for this a lot!

the perils of updating your vault hunters server before even the public release (seriously who qa checks this), vault hunters smp, G, 9k. in which a bug on the vault hunters server turns all of iskall's friends into cute small children and he has to get them out of a vault again. this one is just an excuse for me to write endless Cute Baby Shenanigans, and if Cute Baby Shenanigans sound like they're your kind of thing, give it a read!

it's a long way down if you want to get up again, yugioh dm, T, 12k. mokuba tries to puzzle out why his brother is acting so strangely; as it turns out, this is because kaiba has recently time traveled. a fic shoving DSoD kaiba into the earliest parts of yugioh. he is very bad as a time traveler, and he's not necessarily making things better, but they aren't necessarily worse. also, a fic with a lot of my feelings about mokuba and seto's relationship, as well as their relationship with gozaburo. the kaibas will always make me feel things.

on burdens, yugioh dm, T, 11k. kaiba realizes that jounouchi is both more complicated than he gave him credit for and probably being abused, which changes his perspective on him. violetshipping, but mostly pre-violetshipping. another fic where i write people playing a card game! it is also as much about kaiba having the world's worst emotional intelligence as it is about kaiba and jounouchi both having shitty dads.

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selected short oneshots

a question for the dead, life series, G, 1.2k. a script-format fic interviewing the dead players of last life. one of my favorite experiments with formatting of all time, line after line of character study with no wasted words. read it.

different sort of soulmates, life series, G, 926. an aromantic mumbo jumbo hears about double life after the fact, and talks through with grian his fears that he wouldn't have been capable of having a soulmate. cute grumbo friendship and also some feelings about feeling disconnected from the people around you. a personal favorite ficlet of mine.

the long odds, life series, G, 1.8k. martyn is invited to the table with the other writers to play a game. a very meta fic in which martyn plays blackjack with watchers and listeners. this fic is like 80% metafiction and allegory by weight, and i like it very much.

a murder, life series, G, 483. before limited life, jimmy and joel realize it's coming via a flock of birds on empires. a fic both with jimmy and joel's unique friendship and a meta twist on the whole canary thing.

task: answer the following question: do you believe in curses?, life series, G, 1.2k. the surviving members of secret life explain their thoughts on curses. a spiritual successor to 'a question for the dead' and another one of my absolute favorite experiments with formatting. another one with no wasted words that hinges on the character voice of it all.

home, life series, G, 887. cleo and etho have a conversation about their new relationship after secret life, given that cleo's aromantic. man, i love cletho so much, and i also really like the idea of aromantic cleo, so this is my ficlet with both of those things.

do you even lift, bro?, hermitcraft, G, 2.4k. boatem fluff about who can bench press the most members of boatem. this fic is still really cute tbh, not much else to say.

like father, hermitcraft, T, 2k. grumbot prime decides he has to protect grian the same way grian protected grumbot in another world. the horror of being trapped by something you can't escape in a box designed to stop you from hurting yourself; also, the horror of your mistakes coming to haunt you.

forgetful, hermitcraft, T, 977. an interaction between evil x and xisuma near the end of season eight. a ficlet exploring some of my feelings about how season eight evil x can very easily be read as abusive and not even xisuma ever seems to acknowledge that. also, the horror of admin powers in minecraft.

to spite your face, hermitcraft, T, 980. a ficlet where joe gets to be mad about how he was treated by hermitopia during the crossover. i just think i still have so many crossover feelings about joe hills on empires, that's all.

as what you make becomes you, hermitcraft, T, 3.2k. decked out consumes tango, as seen from three perspectives. technically three separate oneshots collected into one fic as one story, the idea of decked out 2 'eating' tango is one of my favorite horror concepts from season 9. this is my execution of it.

missed the shovel talk so this is the next best thing, hermitcraft, T, 941. the rest of the NHO throws a party for doc and then interrogates him about when he even got married to ren in the first place. a goofy, funny fic about the hermits hanging out and being friends. this one is mostly jokes, but i think they're very funny jokes.

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i also have a number of other 'shorter' oneshots that aren't included here for the sake of the length of the post. to find all of my fics, including those left out of this masterpost, check my ao3! and, as suggested above, browse the 'a bee fic' tag on tumblr to find a collection of everything i've written, including things i either haven't yet transferred to ao3 or will not transfer there.

i hope you enjoy my writing!

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Spring in Fall

Summary: Jensen Ackles has spent his whole adult life in front of the camera, but now he wants something more. Something he’s not been able to find yet: an omega to settle down with. When Y/N Y/L/N arrived on the set of Supernatural, the alpha may just find all he’s ever wanted – his true mate.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: Teen

Bingo Square: Scent Bond for @jacklesversebingo

Warnings: Omegaverse, A/B/O dynamics (no smut or anatomy talk), fluff, scenting.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This WIP has sat unfinished for over a year. When I got the ‘Scent Bond’ bingo square for Jacklesverse, I just knew this would be the perfect fill and found my fluffy bone long enough to get this finished! I hope you love this absolute floof 😘

My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM ����

Jensen was irritable. That much was obvious from the Goddamn moon. In fact, irritable was too polite a word for what he was. His ruts were no joke since he hit forty, knowing that his biology dictated he should’ve settled with a mate long before now. The problem was work always got in the way.

If it wasn’t sixteen hour filming days, it was every other weekend at conventions. If it wasn’t conventions, it was catching up on sleep; if it wasn’t sleep, it was an awards show, corporate event, or some other function he was obligated by contract to attend.

Jared had been lucky in finding his true mate on set, and Jensen always hoped the same fate might come to him, but so far, twelve seasons into the show, it hadn’t happened and his hope was starting to wain.

He couldn’t deny that he wanted what all his family and friends had. He was lonely—not that he liked to admit that out loud to many people. All that would achieve is a sudden string of blind dates that always ended in disaster.

The alarm on his phone went off with the reminder to buy a present for his nephew’s birthday, and when he registered the date, he frowned. Quickly, Jensen ran through the math in his head, and his frown deepened. He wasn’t due a rut for another week.

Then why was he so on edge?

“Mr. Ackles? They need you on set in five.” One of the PAs, Riley, he thinks, shouts through his trailer door.

“Alright, thanks,” Jensen calls back, trying to put it to the back of his mind for now. He had a job to do, and if Jensen was anything, he was a professional. He would never let personal issues bleed into his professional life.

Plus, they had a very important guest star for the next couple of months. Y/N Y/L/N had signed on for an eight-episode story arc, and everyone was excited. She was the most popular actress the network had ever had on their books. She was making waves in the acting world, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time before she moved to a bigger network or the big screen and began cashing in on prestigious award wins.

Not only that, but Jensen had a massive crush on the beautiful omega, and Dean would be having a really good time with her sassy, sexy character for the duration of her time here. He knew it was unlikely that she’d be his true mate, but maybe, if he played his cards right, she’d at least go on a date with him, and things might work out for them. Plenty of couples he knew weren’t true mates and life was great for them.

“Can you smell that?” Y/N asked no one in particular in the hair and makeup trailer.

“Smell what?” Jared asked from the hair chair.

“Leather, and…” she turned her head and sniffed again. “Sandalwood. Mmm, whiskey.” She felt her cheeks heat up and a tingle in her belly that wasn’t wholly unfamiliar to her; neither was the scent she was detecting. It smelled like home. “Spearmint, too?”

Jared smirked through the mirror at Frida, the hair lady, and Y/N caught the grin on the makeup lady, Tanya’s, face. “What?” she asked. Tanya just shook her head, her grin getting wider.

“Come on, Tanya! There’s something you’re not telling me! What is it?” she whined and pouted playfully.

“Jeez, don’t give me that look!” Tanya laughed. “Damn it! Or those eyes!” she stepped away, laughing harder, when Y/N pulled out the big guns. “You know, Jared, Y/N’s puppy eyes are better than yours!”

Jared laughed and mumbled something that sounded a lot like: “Jensen’s gonna be in so much trouble!” as he looked over at the confused omega, who was still subtly sniffing the air with an adorable frown on her face.

“Is it getting hotter in here?” Y/N suddenly exclaimed. “My God, it’s hot,” she fanned herself with her script, feeling the heat rise from her toes upwards as if she’d just sat in a tub filled with water that was too hot. “Can we open the door or something?”

“Sure, I got it,” Frida said as she left Jared in the hair chair and opened the door to the trailer. “Jensen!” she gasped as she opened the door and saw the green-eyed actor reaching for the handle. “You scared me!” she giggled and stepped back, allowing the tall alpha to enter the trailer.

As soon as Jensen stepped inside, he stopped short, his green eyes blown wide and pupils dilating at the sight of his famous crush sitting in what was usually his makeup chair. She looked beautiful with her big doe eyes as wide as his and her hands fidgeting in her lap.

“Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.

“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.

Jensen stepped out of his trailer and took a deep breath of fresh air, frowning at the scent he caught on the wind. It smelled like home. Like The Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden in the springtime, to be exact. Cherry blossom, lilac and honeysuckle all mixed in with a hint of lavender, making his mouth water. But that was impossible. Except for the lavender, those flowers only appeared in the spring or early summer. It was October.

He didn’t think they’d have flowers on set for any reason, but he supposed that didn’t mean someone didn’t get sent a bouquet or something. The smell of lilac was unmistakable to him; his mom had a huge lilac bush in her backyard, and he’d grown up with it. He’d know that smell a mile off.

Shaking his head to rid himself of thoughts of home, he continued towards the set. He was really excited to work with Y/N, and he hoped she was as sweet and kind as he’d always heard she was. Nothing was worse than having professional respect for someone, meeting them, and finding their personality or attitude lacking.

Jensen spotted Rich across the lot and walked towards him to welcome him. The kind beta was directing again, and Jensen wanted to greet him properly and make sure he knew where to go if he needed anything. Not that Rich needed the reminder, but Jensen was nothing if he wasn’t a gentleman.

“Hey man, good to see you again,” Jensen said as he greeted Rich with a hug.

“Looking good, Jensen. How are you doing?” Rich asked.

“Ah, you know,” Jensen said simply. Rich was one of the few people who knew how desperate he was to find a mate, settle down and have a few pups of his own instead of always being the fun uncle.

“She’s out there, Jay. And I have a feeling she’s closer than you think!” he smirked.

“Ha!” Jensen scoffed. “You sound like Jared! He’s convinced Y/N’ll turn out to be my true mate!” he chuckled.

“Hey, I get why he thinks that! I remember all those nights in your trailer or apartment, and if you saw her on screen, you just froze and stared at her until she was off camera again!” Rich laughed heartily.

“Well, she’s incredibly beautiful. And I’m no worse with her than when you see Scarlett Johansson or Jared was with Nina Dobrev!” Jensen laughed.

“True, but your eyes glaze over, and you get this stupid smile, and…” Rich trailed off at his friend’s head tilt and look of sheer concentration.

“Can you smell that?” Jensen asked.

“Smell what?” Rich asked.

“It’s like a spring garden or something. I smelled it earlier and can’t get it out of–” Jensen whipped his head around and began stalking towards the hair and makeup trailer. Rich followed him, staying a safe distance behind the prowling alpha.

The alpha stopped in front of the trailer door and sniffed, purring low in his throat at finally finding its source. Just as he raised his hand to pull on the handle, the door whipped open, and his senses were assaulted with the most delicious and delicate scent he’d witnessed in his whole life.

Jensen stepped into the trailer, his gaze fixed on his celebrity crush, and felt the air being sucked from him as her Y/E/C eyes met his green ones, wide and submissive. “Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.

“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Jared grinned, raising his hands at the older alpha, showing he was no threat to them. The two women showed the same respect to Y/N, raising their hands as they left the trailer.

“I think Jay just found his true mate!” Jared grinned, pulling Rich into a hug.

“He’s gonna absolutely hate that you were right. I hope you know that!” Rich smirked.

“Hell yeah! And I’m never gonna let him forget it!”

Rich chuckled as he pulled the walkie from his belt. “We got a code 143; I repeat, a code 143 is in progress. All filming is suspended until further notice. Ladies and gentlemen, Jensen Ackles has met his true mate in none other than Y/N Y/L/N. Over and out,” Rich spoke through the device and smiled, high-fiving Jared when they heard the cheers erupt from all over the lot.

“Alright, I’ll start with the phone calls. Have you got the numbers for Y/N’s family? I’ll let them know she’ll be off grid for a few days at least,” Jared asked Rich, who handed him a sheet of paper with her emergency contacts listed.

“I’ll get some betas to keep the parameter clear from here back to his trailer. The last thing we need is another alpha getting too close to Y/N. Or an omega to Jensen, for that matter. Then I better call the Network and let them know their golden boy and girl are officially off the market!” Rich chuckled.

“They’re gonna love that!” Jared laughed.

It’d been suggested to Jensen before by numerous executives that he and Y/N should meet and see if there was a spark, but Jensen was stubborn and said if they were meant to meet, it’d happen naturally. Apparently, so was Y/N. They’d heard a few times that it was the same response she gave them whenever they asked her about it.

Once the door was closed, Jensen stepped towards her and kneeled at her feet. “Do you want this, Y/N? Want me?” he asked shyly. Yes, they were true mates, but he had a few years on her, and she might not want to settle with an older man. She might not want to settle at all. Being in the prime of her career might mean she wasn’t ready to start a family yet.

“Yes, Jensen. I want this… want you, Alpha,” she purred, placing her hand on his cheek and smiling softly. The gasp of pained relief from the big, strong alpha broke her heart, and she wondered if he’d been let down as many times as she had in the past or if it was more.

“Can I… uh… can I scent you, Omega, please?” Jensen asked quietly, and Y/N giggled at his cuteness. She’d always hoped she’d have an alpha with a softer side, and it seemed like she got one.

“Yes, Alpha. I’m yours now,” she said softly.

“Not quite,” his fingers rubbed softly over her mating gland. “But I intend for you to be mine very soon,” he smiled softly before slowly leaning forward and nuzzling his nose into her neck. His hot breath against her sensitive skin made Y/N shiver, and her body erupted in goosebumps. The intimacy of the gesture was overwhelming, and she felt tears sting in her eyes.

Jensen whined as he got in closer and breathed her in. “You smell so good, Omega. And so beautiful,” he whispered to her, gently placing his hand on the back of her neck and pulling her closer still. Y/N tilted her head and rested her cheek on his shoulder, nuzzling her nose into his mating gland, her neck still open, and began to scent him in return.

Within seconds, an overwhelming sense of tranquillity and contentment at being exactly where he needed to be rushed over him, and he had no idea if it was coming from him, her or both of them. And it was the most elating feeling in the world.

“Sweetheart, I could sit her for hours and do this,” Jensen whispered, placing the softest of kisses on her neck between each word he spoke. “But I wanna take you somewhere more private if you’ll let me.”

“Okay,” Y/N answered, a whine escaping her throat as soon as he pulled away from her. Jensen chuckled at her pout, stood, held his hand out for her to take, and pulled her protectively into his side when she was on her feet.

“What hotel are you staying in?” Jensen asked.

“I’m not. I’m staying with a friend. Her apartment is just outside the city,” Y/N responded.

“My place is closer. Is that okay with you? I’d rather we have complete privacy, but if it would make you feel better, we can go to my trailer or the place you’re staying,” Jensen spoke softly.

“Let’s go to your place, Alpha,” she beamed brightly, chuckling when Jensen purred in approval of her answer.

Stepping out of the trailer, Jensen pulled Y/N into his body and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. The omega responded instantly, winding her arm around his waist and moving as close to him as their bodies allowed. The alpha smirked and puffed his chest with pride at hearing the wolf whistles from the crew, who’d gathered to wish the new couple well.

Jensen noticed his driver standing next to an SUV and headed straight towards him, determined to get them out of there as quickly as possible. He’d waited long enough for her and didn’t want to wait any longer. 

Helping Y/N into the car, Jensen quickly moved to the other side and climbed in beside her. He’d barely sat down when the omega slid over to his side and cosied up to him, burying her nose in his neck and scenting him contentedly. He purred, happy to finally have his omega in his arms, scenting her hair, allowing her aroma to mingle and settle in with his own, binding them together in a bond that would become unbreakable the instant he claimed her, which Jensen had every intention of doing before the sun came up.

“Forever starts now, Omega. You ready for it?” Jensen murmured into Y/N’s hair.

“I’ve never been more ready, Alpha.”

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[atinylittlepain]

Chapter Six

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: 18+ heavy angst, references to past injury related to DV

a/n: so we are in for another heavy sitting. as always, my goal is always truth, nothing gratuitous, but honest. my DMs are always open, I'd love to hear what you're thinking about this one.

..........................................

Step into the light poor Lazarus

Don't lie alone behind the window shade

Let me see the mark death made

I dream a highway back to you

I dream a highway - Gillian Welch

.........................................

Where does the thaw begin? It is always gradual. Always give and take. Taking tentative, preening steps out into the sun one day, only to be snapped back into place by a sudden snarl of cold the next. But eventually, that perpetual dull thrum of white starts to melt. The streams in the mountains swirl and slurry up with it, a froth of life that churns down into the rivers that run a faint thread along the highway. Boulders will be moved,  small trees uprooted, a whole new season breeding activity. The landscape rearranged, reconfigured until eventually, settling, eventually, green.

The flock is certainly happy for it, proud and relieved bleats, their heads tossed back in the clear, cool morning air. The two newest members of the group are still getting their legs under them, a little uncertain in maneuvering around the remaining slush, quick clipped jumps and jolts to catch up with their mother. And Dove is never far behind these days. Not even Dolores in his mind any more. Dove, Dovey, Dovey-girl whenever they go down to the bar and she’s beating him or John at darts. 

Punch and Judy might like her just as much as they like their mother, necking and nuzzling up against her shins like cats, contented sounds whenever she greets them in the morning. Joel tends to hang back, letting her make her rounds, inarguably the favorite of both flock and feather. A gift, bells of laughter and the bright glint of her smile, even when she catches his eyes from across the field, like maybe it could be for him too.  And then he remembers that is it for him too, because she always comes back, always comes to him with her eyes squinting into the sun and her smile slanting with the scrunch of her nose.

“They’re getting bigger everyday.” He thinks to himself that he wishes she wouldn’t remind him. Time has a way of getting parceled and pinched out here. Secret time, stolen time, no one paying much attention to time. How long has it been? Counting months in his  mind as they make breakfast. He figures nine by the time they sit down. So much time. Time he has been greedy with. Enough of it that she may no longer need to stay. Or may no longer want to. He winces into his mug, small, sharp hurt that he is all too familiar with. Doubt makes him sulk, makes him slump. But then she always does something like she does right now. Touching just to touch. Something curious about it, like she is still unsure if she is allowed to, like this is not something she has had before now. Careful fingers curling around his wrist from across the table, coaxing his palm up to the ceiling so she can press her hand flat against his. He can feel her pulse where the pads of his fingers rest against the soft inside of her wrist, steady, with the occasional stutter. 

“Do you want to go tonight?” 

“If you do, yes.” Who says what, it doesn’t matter. Call and response goes both ways for them. If you do, then I do, and if I do, then you do. 

“We don’t have to stay long.” Always giving her an out. She curls her hand around his.

“You just don’t want to lose at darts again.”

“You always win.” 

“Don’t be a poor sport about it, I won’t want to play with you any more.”

“Hey.” That smile is for him, no question. 

…

It isn’t often that Joel gets anything in the post. There is a mailbox at the end of the dirt road leading to the house. It has a large dent in its side, and has since he bought the place, near impossible to pry open. The mailman’s frustration with it is clear in how the lid is now hanging off its hinges, some sort of envelope, thick and obvious, sticking out of it as they drive home in the afternoon. 

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure, I wasn’t expecting anything.” But he knows exactly what it is when he opens it, the knife he used to slice through the top of the padded envelope clattering onto the dining table when he pulls out a thick stack of documents from inside. 

On top is a birth certificate. A hospital in Lincoln, Nebraska, and the first name is Dolores. And he shouldn’t, but she’s still toeing out of her shoes and hanging up her coat, so he quickly thumbs through the rest. A packet, and he recognizes what it is immediately. All those years ago, with Sarah’s mom, he got a packet that looked just like this. Divorce papers. 

“Joel?” It startles him, and he knows he’s been caught, quietly setting the stack of papers down on the table, not quite able to meet her gaze.

“Those are for you.” He can’t watch, only catching a glimpse of the way her brow pulls down, a slight frown as she pads around the side of the table to get a better look. 

“Oh.” She doesn’t pick them up, just drags her hand across them to fan the papers out on the table. And it’s a posture he hasn’t seen from her in a long time, the way she curls her arm back into herself, everything shutting and shuttering up tight and small. No, he can’t watch, but he can’t walk away either, shifting in his boots, his eyes landing on her only to flit away fast. She’s not moving, and he’s not sure if she’s even breathing, it’s that silent, save for the soft creak of the floorboards with his anxious shuffling. 

“Do you have a pen?” It takes him a breath to realize that she’s asking him, and then he sets himself into stuttering motion. His hands feel too big, too shaky as he fumbles through the junk drawer in the kitchen, though something has changed in Dove, her shoulders straightened and smoothed out when she takes the pen he offers her. She hunches over the table, squinting through each page, a quick flurry of signatures that he knows she shouldn’t be dashing down so fast. But there’s no stopping her. Rampage and war path all in one, she huffs when she gets to the end of the packet, pinning the whole stack down with the pen and stepping back from the table like she escaped from something just in time. 

“When do you want to leave for the bar?” She asks it light as air, a strange rolling back of her shoulders, her eyes settling somewhere just past him, not quite meeting him. He has to gather himself before he answers, stunned, and a little spooked, if he’s being honest. 

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” 

“What does that mean?” All edge and ice, his stomach lurches quick and awful at this new thing, this very new, very frightening thing that she seems to be doing.

“Nothing, Dove, it doesn’t mean anything. But we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to.” 

“Okay.”

Dinner is tight and silent as a fist. Neither of them looking at the other. She pushes the food around her plate, though he’s not sure if any of it actually gets eaten. And he can feel his own frustration mounting, that urge to get just a little big, and a little loud, to tell her no, to put his foot down, to stop whatever this is. But he knows that whatever this is, no matter how mean she makes it look, it is a hurting thing. 

So they go to the bar, and he lists at the periphery of the small crowd, making meaningless conversation with Rod about the weather while he keeps the lion’s share of his attention on Dove. 

She doesn’t like to drink, not usually. Most of the time, she’ll politely sip down half a beer, promptly handing it to Joel for him to finish. But tonight, she has already lined up three tidily finished bottles on the table next to where she’s playing darts with John, and while everyone else is jovial, enthused and amused by this sudden outgoing shift in her demeanor, all Joel feels is a nervous stutter in his chest. 

He watches, quietly and carefully, until he cannot stop himself from stepping in any longer. It’s quick, the way she stumbles back into a table, sending a few bottles rolling over onto the floor before John can hook a steady arm around her shoulders. It’s enough to get Joel moving. 

“John, I think it’s time for us to be heading home.” 

“John, I think it’s time for us to be heading home.” It’s slurred and stilted, a garish mimicry of his voice that she punctuates with a hiccup and a fragment of a laugh, still slightly swaying from her hold on John’s arm. And when Joel reaches for her, a murmured please, Dove, pain wraps itself around his heart, an awful throb of it, when she jerks her arm away from him, stumbling over her feet and in turn nearly causing John to lose his balance. She is mean like this, he realizes, meanness that he didn’t know she was capable of. A hot scoff and an I’m fine sharp from the back of her throat, steeling herself away from John and holding onto a table to steady her shake.  Joel swallows around heat and sickness in his throat watching the broken sigh that curls in her shoulder blades. Not mean, after all, but hurting. 

“Yeah, I’d say so. I think Dovey-girl here had a little too much fun tonight.” He knows it’s John’s weak attempt to smooth whatever tension seems to be hissing. Right, fun. Joel tries for what he can of a smile, though it’s more grimace than anything else, quietly coaxing an arm around Dove’s waist, not even sparing John a second glance as he shuffles them out of the bar and into the quick snap of cool night air. 

She’s laughing, her head thrown back on her neck, lolled to the side. And it isn’t the laugh he has gotten used to. It’s a bitter thing, an ugly thing, mingling and mixing with that broken rasp of hers. A miracle that he can get her into the car. Usually so tentative with touch, her hands are everywhere, skittering up his chest, tugging in his hair, pulling at his coat, his belt, all while slurring soft iterations of his name. He feels like he’s going to throw up. And maybe it’s a little mean, the way he collects both her wrists in one broad palm and tucks them pointedly in her lap. For a moment she stills, a tremble in her lip that he thinks is threatening tears, but then she tilts her head back in another sharp giggle, distracted enough with her own unraveling that he can shut the passenger-side door and hurry around to his side of the car. 

The roads are dark, the mountains the faintest purple shadow in the distance. He rolls all the windows down, hoping that the swift whip of wind might help sober her up. She’s silent in the passenger seat, but he can feel her heavy stare, her cheek dropped down to her shoulder to look at him. 

“Joel.” Lilting and long, a little sing-songy call of his name, Jooooel. He doesn’t indulge it with any attention, keeps his eyes focused on the road getting eaten up by headlights in front of them. But she doesn’t abide by that for long. He tries to shake it off at first, jostling his knee like that might make her take her hand away. A quiet don’t, do not, Dove, when her palm starts to skirt higher, curling around his thigh.  And it becomes too much so suddenly, so quickly. 

“Godfuckingdamnit!” 

In a blink, in the time it took for her hand to brush against the in-seam of his jeans, he has driven them off the road and into the soft, new grass on the side of the highway. He has gotten loud, and he has gotten big, shoulders hulking up toward his ears as his eyes flash, frenzied, over to her. And she has gotten small again, pressed back against the passenger-side door, silent and unblinking. He has scared her. But she has scared him as well. 

Neither of them say a thing. He allows himself two deep breaths, and then he guides the car back onto the road. 

She is still, subdued, and when he finally parks in front of the house, he realizes that she has fallen asleep, her lips parted and her head tilted back. He had hoped that she wouldn’t, but she stirs when he opens the passenger door, an indignant sound in the back of her throat as he unbuckles her seatbelt for her. He moves to take his hand away, but she catches his wrist, a weak hold that he doesn’t resist. 

At first, he cannot understand what she’s saying, something mumbled and murmured, her lashes dropped down to her cheeks. She says it once, twice, and it starts to become clearer. You, me, you don’t, me, you don’t want me. 

“That’s not true, Dove.” She sighs, running her thumb over his knuckles, her weepy eyes flickering up to his beneath her brow. And it’s terrible, tearing something open inside of him when she tries to lean forward, tries to pull him closer, tries again. Terrible that he has to press a hand to her shoulder to keep her from doing something that she will surely regret. Something he doesn’t know if she would even want, if not for the haze she is in. Maybe the most terrible part of it, actually. 

And then that same chorus. You don’t want me, want me, want me, you don’t want me. And he could laugh, and he could cry, because all he has been doing is wanting her, and trying to stop himself from wanting her. 

“Not like this.” He says it so quiet, he doesn’t know if she hears it, listing somewhere between consciousness and sleep. If she does, she shows no sign of acknowledging it, just letting out a long string of sighs as he helps her out of the car and into the house. 

Her face is tucked into the side of his neck, blowing hot breath against his skin as he makes the awkward stumble up the stairs with her clinging under his arm. He manages to get her shoes off, and her coat, which once was his, but has been hers for a while now. It’s silent, save for her quiet murmurs of protest to any movement, eyes scrunched shut as he coaxes her under the covers. All she offers is one more sigh of his name, like penance or prayer, before she slips back under merciful sleep’s thumb. 

Joel doesn’t get into bed with her. He can’t. He knows that he can’t, not right now. So instead, he sits down on the floor with a quiet groan, letting his back rest against the wall across from the bed, his head tipping back, like maybe there might be some sort of answer in the vertical.

There is no answer.

…

The difference between grief and mourning is noun and verb. Grief, the thing, and mourning, what you do with it. Never pretty, never perfect, never graceful, or gracious, any of it. 

When Sarah was in middle school she went through a phase of being interested in the paranormal, in death, and what might come after it. Every night, Joel would come home and find her on the couch, watching the same show in which people recounted all their various and supposed hauntings. It had worried him at the time, going to his mother, even to Tommy, asking them if they thought it was strange. It would pass, the advice he received from everyone around him. Being young, it’s natural to wonder if and when the time for all of that to end will come. So when he would come home at night, he would wordlessly join her, somewhere between awake and asleep, half-listening to the television. But now, he remembers something that was said through the thick static of cable. Unfinished business, right, hauntings happen when patterns must be returned to and repeated. Phantom figments playing out all that was left unsaid, undone. 

What happened last night had nothing to do with him. He is pretty certain it could have been anyone sitting in the driver’s seat alongside her. All that Dove needed was a willing participant, a captive cast member, to enact a haunting of her own, to close some gap, stitching some snapped thread in her mind. No, nothing to do with him, nothing at all. 

At some point, sleep caught him, slumped to the side, a sharp pain in his neck when he wakes up, still seated on the floor. Dove isn’t in bed, a rumple of sheets where she had been laying. He’s too tired for that quick pulse of panic to fan into any real flame, but he does consider it. That maybe this is what leaving looks like. 

But no, he stumbles out onto the porch, hurting with how bright it is, no. She is out there with the flock, still in her clothes from last night. He can only see her back with the way she is sitting in the field, spine curled over and into itself. 

Shame settles thick and toothsome in his gut, though why he isn’t sure, anxious and awkward in how he comes to stand just in her periphery, letting presence be known, but not needed. She is crying. 

“I am so sorry, Joel.” She says it plainly, voice flat and distant. And he isn’t going to say that it’s alright, because they both know that whatever that was, nothing about it was right. Purposeful, but not intended for pain. When cornered, a wounded animal will lash out against anything that moves, innocent or arbiter. 

“I know you are, Dove.” When he takes a step closer to her, Avril lets out an indignant bleat from where she is watching a few paces away, part of her flock, a warning that she will do more if she does not like what she sees. Under any other circumstances, Joel would roll his eyes at the animal, ridiculous, but today it keeps him at a distance, sitting down far enough from Dove that he could not reach for her if he tried. And he would like nothing more than to reach for her, to forget what happened last night, to go back to the way things were. A stupid wish, a childish wish, one that cannot be made real. 

“I don’t ever want to be like that again.” 

“You aren’t like that.” And he means it. That wasn’t her, not the present her. A ghost somewhere inside of her that found its way to the surface, breaking beneath her skin. 

“I understand if you want me to leave.”

“I don’t.”

“I was awful to you.” He doesn’t speak at first. Because yes, it was awful. An awful thing that makes him feel sick now even thinking of it. And awful too, that he knows he would forgive her of anything. Already forgiving this. 

Punch comes wobbling up to her, taking the laces of her boots in her mouth before snuffling up her leg, nosing under Dove’s palm, intent on affection that she is so willing to give. Maybe they have let these girls get too domestic, a little too comfortable with humans, but he doesn’t care, watching a watery smile try to spread across Dove’s lips as she scratches behind the lamb’s ears. 

“How are you feeling?”

“My head hurts, but I deserve it.” No, he thinks, none of this has been deserved. A strange cascade of poison. Cause and terrible effect. 

When he reaches for her, Avril abides, plodding away, if not a little indignant. He takes up her hand in his, and though ligament and lines remain limp, she lets him, still not looking at him, but letting him. 

“I am so sorry.”

“I know you are.” 

…

He takes care of it for her. Seals the packet of paperwork back in the envelope and writes the requisite address on the front, tucks the whole thing in the backseat of the truck. And they move like careful planets, still in orbit, but trying hard not to touch, to linger. 

The first thing he does after dropping her off at the diner is go to the post office, though he thinks twice of it. Reopens the envelope in the driver’s seat  for the third time now and reads through the whole thing, every condition, every clause. A clean break seems to be the sum of it, nothing glaring to any of it. So he closes the envelope one more time, and posts it back to Nebraska. 

It’s a wordless communication, the way she turns in the passenger seat to check for it when he picks her up in the afternoon, settling back when she sees that it is gone. Still smarting, both of them, they move carefully through their usual errands, the grocery and the library, the drugstore for a new bottle of Advil for her. 

Her voice has gotten worse over the months, since what happened in November. The word that she uses for it, not what he would call it, worse. Usually the hardest to hear her in the mornings, words cracking into whispers or suddenly stuttering up a pitch. He knows it upsets her, how she will quickly close her mouth mid-thought, lips pressed in a thin line like she couldn’t stand for any more of that sound to come out. He brought up the idea of taking her to see a doctor in Denver once, and she had scoffed, the whites of her eyes showing with their roll because no insurance, and what money she has, set aside for a different problem entirely. She hadn’t let him even begin to say that he would help her cover it. 

Today, it is particularly bad. Not in how it sounds, at least not to him, but in how it is clearly painful for her to speak, wincing around the few things she does say, the menial mundane things of errands, clearing her throat in between each response, a hand curled and hovering over the front of her neck, not touching, but sensing something that has seemed to change permanently. 

Maybe the alcohol, he thinks, the abrasive slip of it down her throat. Or maybe the fact of loud, the loudest he had ever heard her, those clipped laughs. Maybe a combination of the two. Whatever it is, he can see her frustration mounting with it, until finally, she sits with a terse crease in her brow and her lips kept in a stoic pinch on the drive back home. Betrayed by her own voice, in more ways than one. 

The only thing she does say, once the groceries are put away and Joel is preparing to help her make dinner, a rattling rasp, I’ll do it. A wave of her hands, away and behind her, and he won’t argue, worried she might cry if she has to speak any more. 

Disappointed that it’s him and not her doing the evening rounds, the sheep are at best tolerant of his care, keeping a dignified distance as he fills their water troughs and checks on the lambs. The chickens are less loyal, and more stupid, he thinks to himself, but even they seem a bit jaded when he is the one that shuts the coop for the night. 

The house is warm when he comes back inside, windows spilling syrup into the oncoming night. It smells good, salt and savor, something simmering on the stove. A strange contrast, the inherent life that a kitchen suggests, and the solemn way she is moving around it. Recompense, remorse, heavy things pulling at her shoulders, curling her smaller over pots and pans.

“This looks good, Dove, thank you.” She nods, passing him a full plate, warmth seeping into his palms from the bottom of it. But when they both sit down, he recognizes it immediately, so many steps back. Her hands are in her lap, and he already knows that she’s waiting for him to start. Doing that thing again, and he can do it too. Fork and knife remain untouched, he sits back in his chair, a small challenge. Maybe ten minutes pass like that, the steam from their plates long dissolved into the air, when she finally looks up at him, frustration clear in the pull of her brow. 

Something that she learned. Something that was taught to her, just like all the rest of her fear. Back when she first came to stay with him, she was always apologizing, always thanking. And the cooking, and the waiting for him to start before she would even consider her plate. Like punishment, like always being aware of some score, and afraid of what might happen if she does not balance it. And he’s watching her sink back into it, all of it, right now.

“Dove, please.” She blinks at him, a slack frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“You should eat, Joel.” She puts every ounce of sound she can behind it, and it still comes out quiet, a quick burst of decibel on eat, like her voice tried to kick up in her chest just enough to end on a good note, though his name comes out the softest of all of it, a whisper that seems to hurt. 

“So should you.” 

“I will.” 

“Now, please.” 

“I feel terrible.” And he knows that she isn’t talking about her lingering headache, not even the pain in her throat. He knows that she has probably been exacting perfect retribution on herself in her mind, all day. She looks miserable, because she has made herself miserable with guilt that has festered into shame.

“I forgive you, I do.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“You didn’t mean it.” Her eyes flicker, so small he might have imagined it. But no, something shifts behind her grimace, and he realizes that he might be wrong, that there had been some truth to her want last night. A want that she doesn’t know how to manage, a want that she doesn’t know what to do with. A want like his. 

“I don’t know how to, Joel.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“I don’t think I can stand it.”

“What can’t you stand?” 

“For you to not–” She cuts herself off, a sharp breath that threatens tears. But he knows it’s the same thing he’s afraid of that she is speaking to. Want can be so violent, so rash, so wicked and wretched in how big and bold and blustering it can get. But really, it is a child, hoping that someone will hold its hand, hoping, for once, that someone will walk it home, see it through the night. 

“It’s the same for me, Dove. I can’t stand it either.” 

On her terms, the only way this will ever work, he offers a quiet come here, please, pushes out his chair from the table, and waits for her to respond, to react. And yes, it takes time, but eventually, she does. 

“Warm.” Said to herself, maybe not meant to be said at all, her eyes intent on where her palm splays over his chest. He places his hand over hers, keeping it there. 

There is no one around for a good few miles, but here is what the coyotes see in the yellow drip of light coming from the kitchen windows. A man, sitting in a chair pushed back from a dining table, and a woman, standing between his legs, her hand on his chest, and his hand on her hand. And they are not smiling, neither of them, and they are not speaking either. They are looking at each other. The man places his other hand on the woman’s waist, and he gives her a small nod, a making sure, making okay. The woman nods too, and she lets her other hand settle along the man’s jaw. 

But people are very boring to coyotes, especially broken ones like these, so they do not stick around to see the rest, skittering off with a chorus of yips and clackering sounds, seeking their own small satisfactions. 

No, the coyotes do not see when the woman carefully dips her face down, nor do they see the man tilt his chin up in answer. And the coyotes certainly do not see the small, shivering kiss that is over as soon as it starts. Two shadows turning into one, and only the smallest sliver of light between them when they separate again. 

The coyotes have much more interesting matters to tend to than such human things. After all, spring has finally come to the mountains.

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taglist: @cassiopeia @eleganthottubfun @anoverwhelmingdin @sscorpiiio @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @suzmagine @syakhairi @spookyxsam @northernbluess @hier--soir @joelsgreys @wannab-urs @tieronecrush @trulybetty @softlyspector @noisynightmarepoetry @csarab615 @ratoonstown @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @lizzie-cakes @beskarandblasters @narxisus

[ijwrsmff]

Yandere! Vander x Reader

A request I got in DMs =~= It took a while to get to it, but here's the second story of the day! I got inspiration and knocked it out. I gotta head to work soon, but I hope y'all enjoy it!

Tw; swearing and yandere-typical behavior.

Word Count: 1,297

You didn’t think anything was wrong…at first. You were a good bit older than Vander’s kids, and they became like your own as well. They were a rowdy bunch, and you considered yourself just as much of a cool parent as Vander was. Although he could be much more strict than you. Never wanting the kids to “risk” their lives or legal action when going topside. 

After a while, you began to go with them. Just in case things went awry. Vander wasn’t aware of it for a while, but when he found out he was livid. It was a side of him you rarely saw. Initially, you thought he was mad at you for taking the kids on a risky mission to help him afford their living expenses, but no. He was mad for something entirely different. 

“The hell is wrong with you?” It wasn’t an angry yell, but rather a venomous mutter. “You’re risking your life for a few coins, don’t you know how dangerous that is?” He walked closer, and you stood your ground. You would defend those kids, and yourself against him. It wasn’t the first time, but it still made you anxious. But in your heart, you knew he’d never hurt you or those kids. 

“How else are we gonna pay for everything? It’s not like running this place is cheap, we know you’ve been struggling with it.” As he walked towards you, his look became even more…unhinged. “We’re just trying to help, and I wouldn’t ever let those kids hurt at the cost of my own life.” You decided to play his game and take a step closer, but you were completely caught off guard by his next action. 

He grabbed you, not roughly by any means, but enough to keep you in place. He was stronger than you, by far. You knew no matter how much you struggled he would only let you go when he allowed it. “That’s the whole problem. You baby them too much, they can take care of themselves. Especially Vi. She’s the oldest, she’ll make sure they don’t get hurt. You, on the other hand, are weak. Sensitive, and naive.” He leaned forward and his look turned softer. “You’re better off to stay here with me.” 

You glared at him, and ended up trying to take a step back to get some space, but he didn’t let you. “Vander, they’re still kids. If you’re not going to go with them to make sure they’re safe then I will.” Your gaze almost faltered, but you tried to show your determination in that look. Even as you could see the wheels turning in his mind, you tried to show you were brave enough to stick up to him. 

“No…no you won’t.” His voice was soft, and it was clear he came to a decision. Without another word from him, he dragged you to the basement of your home, where you stayed with him and the kids. “I figured something like this might happen eventually…” Despite your words of protest there would be no way to stop him with how strong he was. 

The basement was a place no one was allowed, and only Vander had the key. Not that anyone could get in or out without help from several, with how big and heavy the door was. It was almost like a vault, and you and the kids had always thought it was a place where he kept the finds that wouldn’t sell, or a place with items of significant value to Vander. Even now…that might still be what it’s used for. 

But those thoughts were halted when he opened the door to find a large room. A fridge, kitchen, bed, closet, and desk. “Vander…what is this?” You looked around the room, which was almost like its own home although in a single room and looked at him in confusion. He wasn’t…going to keep you here…right? “Vander?” He wasn’t answering, but his eyes looked full of resolve. 

He thought long and hard about his words, and eventually dragged you to the bed and shoved you down. “Don’t worry…you’ll be safe here. No risk, no threats, any of it. You have everything you need. Food and water, a bed to sleep in, and most importantly…me.” He smiled softly, and eventually headed back to the door. “I’ll come see you every day, I promise. You’ll love it here. It’s not much, but it’s the best I have.” 

He opened the door, and you screamed as you rushed at him. “Vander you bastard! Let me out of here!” As you swung, he turned around and grabbed your fist. His look was calculating, and you couldn’t make out what he was thinking. “The kids will know something is up! They won’t just let you trap me here like this!” It was the best defense you had, but he didn’t seem to care. 

“People go missing in the lanes all the time. They’ll be sad you’re gone, but they’ll be okay. They’re tough kids.” He grabbed both your arms, preventing you from screaming again and said, “I can take care of them. Just as I can take care of you. I can even teach you to cook some of the dishes you like me to make for you.” He smiled for half a second before going to his usual cold expression. 

“Vander you’re crazy! You can’t just keep me here like some sort of prisoner!” You kicked him, but he wasn’t phased. Within seconds, you were on the ground several feet away from the door. “LET ME OUT OF HERE!” You rushed at him once more, but he was already out of the door as you banged against it. 

Within days, your will was nearly broken. He came in, talked to you and left. Every night. You became silent at some point, and simply did whatever he said. Ate when he told you to, slept when he told you to, anything. Hoping that eventually, he would let you see the kids again. He talked about them a lot, how they would still go topside to get some extra coins. How they missed you, but grew closer to them when they realized they could lose him too. 

After several days, of which you lost count, you were completely broken. When he entered, your eyes were glazed over. He smiled, and touched your cheek. You didn’t even flinch anymore. He talked to you, or rather at you, but you couldn’t form words. Those kids…they missed you. You considered them your own. And Vander…you loved him. You did before, but did you now? It was hard to say. 

Before he left, you walked up to him as he approached the door. The only words you could think to say, sat on your tongue as he looked back at you. This was the first time you’d willingly touched him without him prompting it. He turned, and smiled, but the smile was small when he heard your words…

“Vander…Please…Let me go.” Tears had fallen for days and days prior, there were none left for you to shed. Broken was the only word that seemed fitting of you. And even as he replied, you couldn’t find it in you to cry, or scream, or do anything, really. 

“Not before…not now…not ever.” He turned and kissed the top of your head, and left. 

This was your life now. Sitting alone, your only contact with another living soul being from the man you loved. In some form or another. He was all you needed…he was all you wanted. Sitting and waiting for him to come back, didn’t seem so bad. He loved you so much he couldn’t bear to let you go. And maybe…just maybe…

You didn’t want him to. 

[kingkatsuki]

this random thought popped into my head and now I cannot control the brain rot. Thinking about !streamer y/n and !mod bakugo!! streamer y/n who ‘accidentally’ flashes when she sees !mod bakugo enter chat. streamer y/n who feels a rush when they see bakugo block weirdos in chat. Streamer y/n who pretends they don’t have a favourite mod or fan but let’s mod bakugo get away with everything! Like the hold he would have over you 🥹🥹 I love him!

- 🎀

Omg I love this idea so much!!

Mod Bakugou would stop any guys from treating you like shit or talking down to you because you’re a girl, especially if you’ve got a cutesy aesthetic.

Since joining the server you’ve managed to play with him before so he knows how good you are, and if anyone tries to talk shit he’s like “She could end you in one shot, shut your mouth or get muted.” Like he’s not here for their shit.

You secretly light up whenever you see he’s online because he’s always looking out for you, so you make sure to ping him in main chat to say hey, and he rarely responds if it’s busy but you’ll notice the little explosion reaction that he uses beneath your message to indicate he’s seen it.

His friends always tease him because he’s got the biggest crush on you, even though he’s never actually seen your face. But Sero is constantly talking about the soft spot he has for you whenever he’s doing his mod duties.

He’ll never admit it to anyone, but he searches your name in the server to see if anyone’s been talking about you and equally to see what you’ve been talking about whenever he’s not online.

Bakugou always messages you first whenever he needs a partner to game, or someone extra for the team because he just knows he plays so well with you and that he usually wins when you’re on his team.

He’s already in love with your voice, in game you’re so cute whenever you almost get shot or die— the little squeal you make when it happens he wants to record and keep it forever. And he’s been in a voice chat with you and even though he was on mute the entire time he could listen to you talk for hours. And you’re adorable whenever you say his name when you notice he’s joined.

One day you’re brave enough to stream with your face, and you call it your big face reveal and Bakugou could die. You’re the prettiest person he’s ever laid his eyes on, no exaggeration. And now you’re more confident you start posting outfit pics or face reveals in the server. Where there are a tonne of comments on how pretty you are and how good you look, and how people want to date you so bad— but you’re always looking out for a little emoji reaction beneath your pics from Bakugou🥺

And then it’s time for you to make your own server because you’ve got enough subs, and you’re nervous to do it but Bakugou is already in your dms encouraging you to go for it. And he agrees to be one of your mods😭 so you do!!

And it takes off SO fast. A thousand new members in just a few days, and your poor mods work so hard to make it a great place— but of course Bakugou is your favourite.

Anyone that says anything lewd or inappropriate about you are muted or kicked in seconds. Usually with a comment below it like “fucking imbecile” “dumbass” or something like that. He’s also always the mod you’re gushing about the most, and your fans/followers are now starting to tease that you might have a crush on mod Bakugou. And he wouldn’t ever admit it, but he reads those messages with the dorkiest smile on his face.

So normally you tell your mods to be nice to fans and give them the benefit of the doubt, but Bakugou can roast anyone he likes and he always gets away with it. Occasionally you’ll ping him with a cute “Bakugou don’t be mean!!” and he pretends that doesn’t give him a hard-on. It only makes him wanna be meaner.

And one day you’re getting ready for a follower celebration stream, listening to music and doing your make up in the private mod only chat and Bakugou joins. Just as you’re sitting there in a towel from your shower as you fix your makeup, and you turn to face the screen to see who joined and you’re so surprised it’s him. Excitement gets the best of you and you reach up to wave, but your towel loosens and slips and he gets the quickest EVER flash of your tits and now he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. You’re apologizing profusely and hiding your camera and he’s telling you it’s fine and don’t panic he didn’t see anything (he totally did) and now he’s going to have to spend the rest of your stream with his cock throbbing between his thighs.

You know whenever it’s Bakugou deleting a message during your stream too, because he’s so quick. He’s there telling people to stop being assholes or lose their privileges and people are even commenting on how lucky you are to have such a great mod. Even though he’s terrifying😂😭

After your stream you’re in his dms to apologise again, and he just keeps telling you that it’s okay and that you did such a good job and how proud he is of you🥺

And you keep trying to get him to collab with you on a stream because he’s got his own channel, but he never posts his face on it and as much as he’d love to collab with you the thought makes him SO nervous.

YOU ALWAYS ALMOST DIE when he enters chat, because you get so distracted🥺😭

He’s the only mod that has your actual phone number and you text outside the channel and server. He’s always sending you pics of his day, and you’re always sending him outfit pics.

And the server see you both together in private voice chats ALL the time so your fans/followers start jokingly shipping you together🥺 and someone draws fanart of you but it’s just you and a guy wearing a black hoodie pulled up over his head because no one in the server really knows what Bakugou looks like besides one “face reveal” he did where it was just a webcam of him in super low light wearing a black hoodie.

But you freak out over it because it’s adorable😭 and everyone is pinging Bakugou to get him to comment.

[tragedy-peanut-gallery]

Daeron ii’s family playing D&D cause I’m very bored and have too much time on my hands

(These are my silly hours so I wanted to write something a little whimsical that probably breaks canon. Idc ☺️💖)

Daeron: The Dm, uses all the old school dice and handbooks from when he and Elaena played as kids. All their preset character sheets got burned by Baelor so he spends way too much time helping everyone with their characters. Gets a little too railroad-y sometimes but makes up for it with a good story and funny voices

Myriah: Doesn’t play, but sometimes checks in to ask the kids if they “won” yet. Will occasionally do the voice of a patron or deity if she gets pestered enough

Baelor: Human oath of vengeance paladin 10000000%. Originally chose the class because he thought smite was cool but kept accidentally breaking his oath even if he was technically doing something good. He’s kinda bad at roleplaying but tries to steer everyone to make the right decisions

Aerys: High elf divination wizard. Probably spent two hours hogging all the source books in order to optimize his character to be the best spellcaster there ever was. Loves asking about every minute detail in any new room which annoys everyone- but! On the bright side, he is the best at solving every puzzle the party faces

Rhaegel: Dragonborn drakewarden ranger. Only made the character so he could be a dragon with a dragon friend, but doesn’t really roleplay or keep track of combat. Spends most of the games stacking everyone’s dice into towers, but starts paying attention when he’s finally allowed to fly his drake friend around

Maekar: Goliath beserker barbarian. When he was asked what sort of character he wanted to play he just said he “wanted to hit things really hard”. Doesn’t pay attention to roleplay at all but becomes an absolute beast in combat, the group’s master strategizer at age 6. Has probably accidentally killed a party member once (*cough* Baelor *cough*)

Daenerys: Half elf light domain cleric. Has a 10 page backstory written about her character and will take any opportunity to talk about it. Claims to prefer roleplaying and just being support but has probably dealt the most amount of damage in the party so far and has a consistent pattern of advocating for fights because it levels them up faster

+Bonus!

Shiera: Tiefling college of spirits bard. Originally wanted to play warlock but was mad about the limited spell slots so saves her evil backstory for another character. Most comitted roleplayer at the table, manages to talk the party’s way out of most of the fights Maekar and Daenerys gets them into, even though she’s like- 5, so most of her convincing ends up being “no, that’s mean >:(“

Brynden: Tiefling arcane trickster rogue. Unironically the edgiest character to be made, consistently brooding in the corner of every tavern they go into. Everyone thinks he might be a potential traitor but ends up being the biggest ride or die in the party and probably dramatically sacrifices himself to save them (Daeron writes him as actually escaping because he felt bad lol)

Daemon: Fallen aasimar oathbreaker paladin. Gives Daeron a minor aneurism when he asks if he can betray the party at some point. Otherwise a really well rounded character who only dabbles in the edginess, and puts up with everyone’s shenanigans enough to justify his ascension as the game’s bbeg

Aegor: Hates D&D. Banned from the table for calling everyone a bunch of nerds

[lihhelsing]

Ali's Masterpost

Welcome to my masterpost! Nice to see you ❤️

Where to find me?

twitter and ao3

My Tumblr prompts, microfics and ficlets are here.

On-Going Fics

you're under my skin (burning in my bloodstream)

steddie | rockstar au | explicit | 40k+ | 3/7

Read it Here Steve's not sure why he keeps betting on things with Robin when he knows he's going to lose. Except this time the bet ends up with him getting his nipple pierced and it seems like the guy who's about to run a needle through his skin is hotter than Steve expected and he's having trouble keeping it together. But after a charged first encounter, Steve has no way to get in touch with Eddie and thinks he lost his chance until he runs into him in the most unexpected of places and finds out Eddie is a lot more than Steve initially thought. OR; Eddie gives Steve a piercing and Steve is clueless about his true identity.

If I fall for you, I'll never recover

steddie | supernatural elements | explicit | 30k+ | 7/10

Read it Here Befriending Dustin Henderson and the party come with the added bonus of weekly family dinners at Steve Harrington's house, of all people. Eddie expects him to be a jerk but he is not. He's actually... Nice? It's a shock for him, too All of a sudden, it's like Steve is everywhere. It's like Eddie fits in with them in a way he never did before, and it feels nice, even if Steve is super territorial about the people he cares about. Eddie just didn't think he would ever be one of them. He also didn't think he would care so much about Steve. On some nights he even thinks this crush of his might be something else. Something that dangerously looks like love.

Completed fics under the cut

Steve Harrington's (not so) Secret Advent Calendar

steddie | christmas themed | explicit | 19k | One-Shot

Read It Here What do you mean friends don’t make friends super elaborated Advent Calendars just for the sake of it? Or; Eddie and Steve had been fooling around for a year when Steve decided it was time to make a move and make things official in the form of 24 presents right before Christmas.

To-Do: Eddie Munson

steddie | Modern AU | explicit | 14k | 4/4

Read it Here Steve started sending his to-do lists to famous rockstar Eddie Munson as sort of an inside joke. It wasn't like Eddie would ever look at the DMs from a no-one called Steve Harrington. Right? Or; Steve's been using Eddie Munson's DMs as his personal notes up until the day Eddie actually replies to him.

The World Ends With You

steddie | Apocalypse AU | Explicit | 70k | 13/13 | Steddie BigBang #019

Read it Here After the world ended and the undead creatures were everywhere, Steve Harrington survived by isolating himself. Completely alone in a house, he barely knows what to do when someone breaks in. Injured and alone, Eddie Munson slowly wins Steve’s trust as they navigate surviving together in the middle of the Apocalypse and their relationship grows into something Steve can’t quite understand. But just as he has his share of secrets, Eddie has some of his own and this might be enough to get in the way of whatever they were building together.

Just a Lost Boy (not ready to be found)

steddie | Stripper AU | Explicit | 90k | 12/12

Read it Here Steve desperately needed an out. He couldn't handle his own life anymore, he needed to leave everything he'd ever known behind. And yet, he couldn't. His husband wouldn't let him leave like that. Not when Steve felt like a prize to him, something to be owned. And Steve didn't have the money to leave him because he'd been dumb and trusting and in love. And then, there's Eddie. Who might be just another client but he makes Steve feels things and Steve doesn't want to fucking feel anything right now. He just wants to leave. OR; Stripper Steve meets Eddie at work and Eddie can be precisely what Steve needs. Can offer him the chance of leaving his own life behind, if Steve plays his cards right.

[vimara00]

Hello everyone, It's Vi! 💕 I had some 'Shoto vibes' today so I decided to write something about him. As always I hope you enjoy! Please comment, like or send me requests on my DMs (I don't know how it's called on Tumblr jajaja)

All characters reservations yo Horikoshi

Warnings: toxic relationship (not with Shoto) and swearing but fluff💕

~Always~ ShotoTodoroki

• Shoto and y/n had been friends since they entered the UA. Well, actually that's not so true...it took time for Todoroki to get used to others but the more he knew her, the more the walls he had put around himself where trembling down. It was a slow process but Shoto realized his days were better when she's around and that he smiled more just at the thought of seeing s/o but those things had nothing to do with his growing feelings for her...right?! He indeed liked her as more that a friend but she wasn't supposed to know about this till it was too much for his heart to take

• One of the reasons He never made a move (a part from being a coward) was because she already had a relationship or more specifically a toxic relationship. For someone who wasn't given enough love and care as a child, he could see miles away how terribly it was. She was always the one who ended up hurt by the asshole's sharp and cruel words, the one who took to much space and time and that would never be enough for him not matter how much she tried. He treated her as something that belonged to him, something he could show off to his stupid friends. He had so much power over her when he laughed about her dreams of becoming a hero in front of everyone saying he'll let her play the heroine but they all know she'll be just his pretty wife. And everyone was laughing, except her and Shoto, who wanted to throw up.

• With all he might, Todoroki wished to take her out of that relationship (and burn that idiot alive but that wasn't too heroic, was it?). However, y/n, who had such a beautiful soul, too kind for this world and even more kinder for that man, always ended up forgiving him and justifying his actions after the promises that 'he'll change, he'll grow, he'll be better' (quoting Maddie here hehehe)

Shoto had witnessed how abusive behaviors and unhealthy relationships could take an amazing woman to madness and he'd known that even if that asshole didn't fiscally abuse her, his words caught deeper than a knife. She tried so much to hide her low self-esteem but Shoto knew her better than she knew herself. He could see behind that fake smile and those eyes filled with sadness, how much she struggled to save her soul. At first, he had tried to convince her about leaving him but the last few weeks he came up with the idea of showing her how she should be treated. Not only the material things but the acts of service like making her favorite tea when she was studying or heating her hand when she was cold and the attention her boyfriend lacks off giving like just listening what her worries were or how her day went and remembering all she'd said by heart. It actually was not much work, he already did that but he added more enfasis to the lingering touches that she seemed to reciprocate. Shoto was sure she noticed his longing stares when they were watching a movie or how his hand always found hers when they were in a crowd room (cause he knows she hates being surrounded by many people) or the blushing mess he became when she'd found staring for too long. Todoroki could tell something in their friendship was changing and he couldn't be happier if it werent for the fact that the dickhead was still present in her life...

• However, He had enough when one night in particular that idiot decided to visit at the doorms and ruin their weekly movie marathon (the one Shoto and y/n always did in the common area when everyone was already sleeping but her boyfriend didn't have to know that she cuddle him under the covers that they shared) Apparently, he had important news to deliver so he proceeds to enlighten the mood by saying that he was offered an amazing job abroad and that she didn't have to keep on attending to that worthless school with those wannabe heroes and that she needed to hurry cause their plane leaves in three hours. Y/n open her mouth to protest but he interrupted her like always. To that idiot surprise and Shoto's too, y/n took a few steps closer to him and shouted 'STOP FUCKING TALKING! I'M TIRED OF YOU AND YOUR TWISTED GAMES. STOP LAUGHING ABOUT MY DREAMS AND MAKING ME FEEL LIKE I'M THE PROBLEM WHEN I COMPLAIN. I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU! I'VE TOLERED TO MUCH OF YOUR BULLSHIT. I'M TIRED OF PRETENDING THAT I LOVE YOU CAUSE I DON'T. AND I WON'T GO ANYWHERE WITH YOU EVEN IF YOU WHERE THE LAST MAN OF EARTH. SOMEONE HAS ALREADY TOOK THE PLACE YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE HAD IN MY HEART AND SHOWED ME THAT I'M WORTH LOVING SO FUCK YOU!'

The room was silent and Shoto took this opportunity to grabbed that asshole and take him out the residence. Y/n will never know as Shoto would take it to the grave, that he had frightened her ex so he'll never come closer or even breath the same air as her EVER again

When he entered, he saw her trembling figure and the tears rolling down her cheecks and all he could do was embrace her body in hope of giving some comfort. Her face was against his chest as he caressed her hair delicately. Suddenly, she looked up at him and said 'I know its bad...you don't need to save me but would you stay by my side even after the storm?'

And Shoto responded firmly without a pause and without a doubt but with his entire being 'Always' and hugged her even harder

• A few days later, after things had calmed down, he confronted her about what she'd said and she confessed to him even if she wasn't sure that he'll reciprocate, she was glad that she found someone as great as him to love.

Shoto's had enough time to figured out exactly what he felt towards her so he make it his life mission to show her every day why he was worth of her love. No one will ever hurt her ever again and God forgive who'll try...

[asher-agere]

I am thisssss 🤏 close to making an agere blog. I’ll probably not make it a sideblog and rather use my second email to make it a whole new blog (I don’t want it to be associated with my main since I’m scared my few friends would find this stuff weird)… I’d like to be able to share a bunch of agere stuff I’ve made. But there is one problem: my motivation to make stuff comes from interaction and if my blogs gets two notes per post I’d end up with no motivation at all. Which might be a problem that I’d probably have to put effort into fixing but that sounds difficult and inconvient so I wouldn’t be able to get myself to put effort into fixing my need for validation ):

Anyways at this point I think a request to go along with most of my asks is very usual so. Yay request time! It’s just a reverse of my second request from my last ask: Can you share your thoughts on caregiver Chūya with little Shirase (during sheep era)? Since the sheep took turns taking care of each other’s regression this would probably happen at some point… and I just like everything to do with Chūya and Shirase :3 especially Shirase I love Shirase. He’s so silly!

- Fyodor Enjoyer

I fully support that idea! Though the idea of not being acknowledged is very scary I agree (ó﹏ò｡) I can guarantee you I’ll support you though, if the posts are from a fandom I’m not in I might not do much, but I’ll interact with everything I understand!!!!! Plus my DM’s are always open, I can totally give encouraging chats hehe. Either way, full support and no judgement either way from here ⸜(｡ ˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ Also yay more Sheep regression! They’re my babies

Caregiver Chuuya + Little Shirase

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

✮⋆˙ When Chuuya first joins the Sheep the concept of age regression is completely foreign to him. He has absolutely no experience with the outside world after all. But Shirase isn’t shy about it one bit. It’s one of the many things he’ll happily ramble to Chuuya about when he’s introducing him to the new lifestyle. Chuuya of course would never judge! If anything he’s fascinated by the idea. Another chance at a childhood? He didn’t even know that was possible…

⛦ Chuuya is very lost at the beginning when he just starts taking care of Shirase. He doesn’t even know how to take care of a kid, much less someone older acting like a kid! But the Sheep is like a very close family. Some other stray members are happy to step in and show Chuuya how to take care of him! Making Shirase comfortable is such a huge comfort to Chuuya, it shows he’s doing something right

✮⋆˙ Shirase is a pretty compliant little guy, he doesn’t need much to be happy! As long as he can see Chuuya he’s good! He’s a big kid he doesn’t even need to hold hands! Well… Sometimes it is really nice though… Chuuya is happy to do so of course! But for the most part Shirase just needs to see he isn’t alone, that’s enough for him!

⛦ Shirase does not like the concept of sharing. Likes he’s aware of it, he knows why sharing is important, and he loves all his siblings in the Sheep of course! But when he gets something nice… It’s hard not to be selfish. At first Chuuya gives in, spoiling the little one and keeping his secrets. But as Chuuya bears the weight of responsibility he forces Shirase to share more. After all the Sheep only have so much

✮⋆˙ Pet names time! I think Chuuya uses pet names like “Bud” “Little Guy” and “Shi” Shirase is a big kid! (He regresses 3-7) He expects to be treated as such! However when Chuuya’s getting frustrated he’ll bring out the full name! Scary ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა. I also think that as Chuuya takes on the role as the “King of the Sheep” he’d call the regressors “My Little Lamb”

⛦ Shirase loves to run around and play! He has soo much energy! I think this would actually be encouragement for Chuuya to get in shape! (No way he’s in good shape after coming from the lab) If Chuuya can get in good shape then he can run around and chase the little one! Shirase is super fast though! And he’ll tell Chuuya exactly that! If he gets caught too easily he’ll cry, and he’ll use dirty tricks to stay ahead! (“Chuu look! Puppy!” There’s no puppy)

✮⋆˙ Shirase can be really mouthy! He’s the type of regressor you shouldn’t let around the babies. Volume control is nonexistent, he says kinda mean stuff without really thinking, and he’s not very observant of other’s feelings. This is the kind of baby to be super careful not to swear around! Chuuya lets a single curse word slip then all day it’s all Shirase will say “What toy do you want?” “Fuck!” “Are you hungry?” “Fuck!” Chuuya swears it won’t happen again. It usually happens again

⛦ Nap time is a nightmare. Shirase can be literally falling asleep in Chuuya’s arms and he’ll insist he isn’t tired. He wants to go play! The best thing Chuuya can do is slowly transition him to sitting still games so that the little one can fall asleep while playing. Then Chuuya just has to scoop him up and they’re all good! But yeah never discuss bedtime or nap time. Shirase knows those words!

✮⋆˙ One thing however Shirase definitely can not do though is spell! Anytime something needs discussed that he can’t hear just spell it out! For example “Yeah we’re gonna take an N-A-P” then Shirase just sits there so confused, trying to string the confusing letters into words… Most of the people in the Sheep didn’t get the best education. Being in a younger headspace only heightens this. Chuuya won’t hesitate to take advantage of this weak point

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

I hope you enjoyed! On a positive note… I’m no longer sick! Very exciting stuff. This does mean I’ll be posting less, but I take all the chances I can get to! As I get back into schoolwork tumblr is my way of reminding myself to take breaks hehe. Have a wonderful day/night to all of you amazing people!!

[skrunklydoo]

me and @lonleyzodiac have been working on a MASSIVE revamp of the dungeons & elements AU to flesh out the characters (or players as they are in this AU) so here are some misc fun facts and headcanons about the players!!

just some stuff before you read:

*they/them for my lloyd

*she/they for pixal

- jay is irish, but ed n edna are welsh. he’s lived in canada with them all his life and was brought up as welsh, however halfway through the master of the mountain campaign (when he (as a player) was around 15) ed n edna told him that 1. he’s adopted and 2. he’s irish

- he told the others about it a bit before a session started and everyone was shocked to say the least

- jay almost exclusively speaks welsh at home, except when his parents talk to customers or when he has people over. his accent is a mix of canadian and welsh, however whenever he gets mad or stressed his (northern) welsh accent (i’d like to imagine that ed n edna in this AU are from anglesey? that’s just for reference) gets noticeably thicker/stronger

- after he’s told that he’s irish, jay starts learning irish gaelic!!

- skylor, nya and pixal (i might call pix’s player something like penelope tbh) are a polycule but all thought it would be funny to just not give their characters that

- nya in particular thought it would be really funny to have her character date jay

- jay and zane are a couple and were in on nya, skylor and pix’s idea for the campaign because they also found it ridiculously funny

- when jay introduced his character at the very start of the campaign, wu (the teacher DM, it started off as a school D&D club) pointed out “jay isn’t this just your life” and he responded with “yes” and did not say anything afterwards

- dragons rising is DM’d by lloyd in a random library

- geo is that one player who does not show up for half the sessions, it’s a 50/50 chance on if he’ll show up or if he’ll be banished to The Void™ (he worked overtime at the music/bookshop he works at for a while before stopping)

- eventually he starts showing up for every session and for the first few sessions in a row that he showed up to everyone was like “JESUS CHRIST YOU’RE ACTUALLY ALIVE????”

- cole mentioned to him “oh yeah i’m part of a D&D group!!” once and geo immediately asked him “can i join??”. strangely enough they were the only couple to have their characters also be a couple until wyldfyre dragged her bf into the club to play

- vania is a massive theatre kid, she specifically is a massive starkid fan

- starfarer is an underground and obscure comic series that lloyd and jay are both obsessed with. needless to say they are both shocked when it turns out that jay’s dad is cliff gordon

- riyu is based off of lloyd’s pet cat of the same name!!

- inbetween the crystalised campaign and the new overarching campaign (dragons rising), jay and zane cohabitate together (move in together without being married (just yet)) and adopt a cat called jiro n lloyd ends up basing one of the dragons off of him

- the entire skybound campaign was an omen to the future. jay just thought it would be a funny haha twist if it turned out that his character was adopted. until MOTM

- edna often calls jay ‘blodyn’, which is welsh for ‘flower’ and a term of endearment

- geo is a kandi kid and has made him and cole matching singles (and has made cole a few cuffs)

- geo often calls cole things like dragi (romanian for 'dear') and dragul mea (romanian for 'my love/my dear') as in this AU he is romanian-canadian (and bilingual, he speaks both romanian and english fluently, same goes for zane (for french) jay (for welsh (and some irish)) and vania (for italian))

(obviously also they all speak SOME french but zane’s player is french canadian)

- geo is tired all the time and cole constantly tells him to have a nap (geo just straight up says “no” (they live together))

- jay is a wiccan

- jay and zane halfway through the s2 (p1) campaign for dragons rising got married (they specifically decided to get handfasted because see prev. fact about jay)

- they forgot to tell everyone until like a week before the day they would get married on. it was a spooky halloween oneshot but jay and zane decided it would be a good idea to GET MARRIED ON HALLOWEEN (lloyd cancelled the session)

- jay has a massive collection of incense. whenever people walk into him n zane’s house they’re immediately hit with the smell of dragon’s blood or something and they both constantly forget how just jarring it is for others (also fun fact: when writing this specific fun fact i was actually burning dragon’s blood incense)

- roby’s player is an ex-DM who used to DM before deciding that it was more fun as a player

- the dragons rising kids are all 14-15 who joined the library club. the adults are as a range like 21-25

- roby has ADHD but at first refused to go on meds because he said “my ADHD adds to my 𝓻𝓲𝔃𝔃” (wyldfyre ended up convincing him to do so)

- zane plays cinder as a character as well as zane

- whenever cinder interacts with jay zane just starts flirting with him. at first it was very subtle but one day zane couldn’t show up for a session that cinder was needed in so they got geo

geo was NOT paying attention to most the characterisation of cinder since he was working/focusing on his own character and the only details he got were “elemental master of smoke, cocky, flirts with jay”

after some asking around from geo to cole zane and jay he ended up making cinder SUPER over the top and left jay a flustered mess (and gave him (jay) a tiny bit of a crush on geo that lasted like a week)

- sora’s player uses a prosthetic arm

zane’s player uses a cane (NOT FOR THE PUN I SWEAR)

[rvllybllply2014]

Aww thank you so much!! 

You're so sweet too! <3

Oh I see! Sorry for the mix up ;w;

Oh I did notice how quick Willem is to anger as a child! Sure he was otherwise handling the rejection well but it really only took one insult and he snaps to brutality killing Jerrell?

He didn't even look worried that he'd be punished for it either, which could easily play into him not expecting anger from the other Riverlords after his attack on the Bracken's..

And I agree he likely learned his anger issues & pride from his own father, with how aggressive Davos was as well, it seems to be a thing for their house!

Oof that Willem had hope for their future children marrying is just heartbreaking in a way, do you think it made him resent Raylon?

Amos's boy reminding him that hope would never come true? And being proof Amos had moved on from him?

Oh and the heartbreak Amos would feel, not just that Willem believes he could kill him, but knowing he killed his brother! How could anyone ever forgive that? Or even if he could eventually forgive, to still be in a relationship with the person..yeah I completely understand why Amos would brake it off.

(And why he'd hope aeron & Davos would brake up, cause what's stopping Davos from killing someone Aeron loves & putting him through the same pain?).

Poor Raylon! He'd fear so much for his father I bet, and who knows how the Blackwood guards Willem would assign him would treat him! :(

Ooh Amos being kept in Willem's tent is such a good idea! Especially considering he'd likely rather be in a dungeon than anywhere close to Willem.

And Willem trying to convince Amos to get back together..while wishing to inflict as much psychological trauma as possible, I can't help but to imagine some unwanted touching & kissing at least, if not full on sex in that tent..

And I love how just how obsessed & possessive Willem comes off here, like such a darker version of Davron! Which is fun for me cause there are somethings I don't like to imagine much for Davos & Aeron, like a darker side of being taken captive, abuse, rape, all that rough stuff.

Somehow it's easier to imagine with Willem & Amos, maybe because Willem just feels more brutal than Davos and Amos feels stronger than Aeron, like he could handle the dark roughness better, if that makes sense?

Thank you so much for answering my questions btw!! I really appreciate it! :'3

And sorry for sending this through another ask!

Not much room to reply in the comments ;w;

It’s totally fine I love getting asks or dms what ever makes you comfortable.

Yeah I feel like the Riverlords are just used to all the Bracken/Blackwood fights, and the fact that Rhaenyra just leaves without telling anyone to seize Willem so they’ll just not ignore it but not take it upon themselves to arrest Willem.

I honestly think house Blackwood has a trait of anger, being too prideful and just general instability. Just look at Blood Raven he called Aenys Blackfyre to a great council only to have him arrested and beheaded. That just doesn’t scream the most mentally stable person.

He definitely resented Raylon, it’s the missed opportunity for their houses and an also maybe a reminder of their youth. He’s the living breathing proof that Amos has moved on, and loved someone enough to produce an heir. He might even see something of a young Amos in him.

Amos always knew that Willem blindly follows whatever his father tells him to do. So if the order came down that he needs to kill Amos, Willem would not question it or hesitate. The point is really driven into Amos when Willem brags to him about killing Jerrell, he hadn’t known that he was Amos’s brother, all he knew was that Jerrell was a Bracken who hurt his pride.

Amos always warned Aeron about how his relationship with Davos will end in heartbreak. If Davos is even a fraction of Willem then he also won’t hesitate to kill Aeron if he’s ordered to. Once Willem finds out about Davos and Aeron, he tells Davos that he needs to kill Aeron. It’s why Davos was yelling about the boundary stones and also looked so heartbroken while doing it. He knows that Aeron will be forced to answer with a battle, and Davos knows that he’ll kill Aeron during the battle.

Raylon would got beat exactly once, it was the first night that they were captured. The guards tell him it’s because Amos defied Willem. And to drive the point home that Willem won’t hesitate to hurt Raylon for Amos’s actions, he has Amos stand out side Raylons cell to listen to his screams.

Amos would beg to be in the dungeons while at Raven Tree hall, instead of being in Willems room. Willem would also keep Amos chained to his bed. He won’t touch Amos until Amos is begging him to, but Amos never does, so Willem does what used he knows used to turn Amos on, it still works and soon he’s back inside Amos where he belongs. On the road Amos thinks he’ll get a reprieve from Willem. But Willem gleefully tells Amos that they be sharing a tent, no Amos will not be sleeping outside like his son nor will be sleeping with the horses. Amos belongs to him.

Willem is darker than Davos for sure, he embraces the darkness especially after he looses Amos, Amos was the light of his life. 20 years of embracing darkness will result in someone like Willem. Amos was raised harsher than he raised Aeron, especially after Jerrell was killed. Amos now has more responsibilities to his house. So he vowed to let Aeron embrace the softer sides of himself. Aeron still has nerves of steel but not as strong as Amos.

This is a lot of word vomit sorry. But I always have thoughts about Brackens and Blackwoods. They’re in the washing machine part of my brain on the most violent shaking part.