#GOOD LUCK TO YOU SWEET SUMMER CHILD

[theodoradevlin]

"Mrs. Devlin, h-hello, sorry to bother you, you probably don't even know me, I'm Fred... I've overheard from M a reliable source that you produce some... Salves... For ni tender sore spots? I've had a cupboard encounter recently that left me with some, uh, battle scars that need special attention."

Fred makes no eye contact while talking mumbling this to you, his ears as red as the unseen and unspoken tender areas under his shirt.

Theo listens to Fred patiently, wondering why in Merlin's name he was so nervous.

"Ohhhh, Fred..."

She nods sympathetically, to encourage him to continue.

Then her brow raises. Salves? Hm. The only salves she had made lately was one for Montrose's poorly protected pecks....and then she freezes when she hears Fred say 'cupboard.' She blushes right in return.

"Oh, Fred."

This time, her statement is said very knowingly.

Obviously, Halloween approaching did NOT mean Theo was safe from unforeseen jump scares before then, including meeting a very unexpected close acquaintance.

But Theo always did pride herself on playing well with others.

She tries to clear her throat, "Erm...I'm sadly out of salves for the moment. Oddly enough, they've been in high demand. Or maybe it isn't odd? I'm not even sure anymore." Her words trail off as unwelcome mental images start flooding her brain of what in Merlin's name was happening to everyone's 'tender areas'.

Such grabby, grabby paws.

"Anyway" She clears her throat again, "...I'll try and whip up some more for you next time I'm in potions! In the meantime, perhaps wear more layers if you plan on getting back in that broom cupboard? I know that's usually the OPPOSITE goal of broom cupboards...but ..I mean.....y-you know what I mean!!!!" Theo is aware she is rambling like a crazy person to keep herself from a fit of laughter she may never recover from.

She trains her face back to concern, and drops her voice to a whisper, "...And um....well, nifflers can be very proud creatures sometimes, you know? Not saying I know there's a niffler involved. BUT. If there was....perhaps if you tried to call him little lord in the broom cupboard..? Not that I know much about that. Educated guess, of course."

At this point, Theo accepts there is no point in trying to save face any longer. Just nips.

[veryintricaterituals]

So my little sister just started watching Supernatural because her boyfriend loves it. Now, if there's one thing she hates is getting spoiled (she still brings up that I spoiled Dumbledore's death for her in 2005 because she found me crying while reading the book).

Anyway, all of this to say that back during the infamous month of November 2020 I was distraught, delusional and going through it because of the last three episodes of Supernatural. And we had conversations, which basically means that I ranted at her about it, I went into "this should be a podcast" explanations, I went into to the history and the plot and the meanings. She basically got the delulu destiel fangirl experience.

And again she hates spoilers, so fearing for my life I asked her if she was enjoying the show (she's on season 2 atm) and whether she remembers our conversations.

I told her something along the lines of: "I was incredibly mad, and you had to deal with me so I'm sure you pretty much know how the show ends"

She shrugged and said: "I remember you saying something about supernatural but I mostly remember you being super upset about some other show where some characters turned out to be gay after 10 years or something"

She hates spoilers, so I just nodded and went along with it. That other show that sent the gay angel to super hell of course how could I ever forget.

[allbycharles]

Hall of fire, Imladris

Bilbo: finishes his song

Lindir: dude mortal songs are hard to figure out, give us some time!

My OC: ok ok try figuring out this one

My OC: 🎶🎶VIDEO KILLED THE RADIO STAR

[rollinggirlrunahika]

Rolling From Here: [x]

@hyaciiintho:

Runa's place smelled strongly of pumpkin, the raw scent of the freshly gutted fruit having a ROUGH time filtering out of the open windows. At least their scent was slightly masked by that of the seeds which had been BAKING inside the oven, the slight touch of cinnamon that had been sprinkled atop adding a light spice to the air. The seasons were strange in the city, Riku hardly having noticed that October was almost coming to a close already, but Runa wouldn't bid the month farewell empty handed.

"I'm not sure I'm doing this right." The silveret commented, having started to carve out a design of a bat, though it was turning out to look more like a... well... he didn't really know WHAT but it was definitely not what it was supposed to be. Giving the brunet a glance at his side, he gave pause as he took in the progress of her creation, mostly certainly surpassing his by MILES.

Riku began to laugh, finding his pumpkin to be absolutely ATROCIOUS.

"You make it look so easy." He complimented, still eying up his disaster of a pumpkin. "You've always been better at this sort of thing, though, so I shouldn't be surprise." Sea greens then grew warmer as they settled on her, his smile wide as it reflected just how much he was enjoying himself enjoying his time with her. "Yours looks amazing. Can't wait to see it finished."

It had been a while since she’s been able to carve out pumpkins, and like hell she was gonna let another fall season blaze by without her being able to do so again. So, Runa was especially happy to hear that Riku would be joining her.

A couple hours seem to fly by, and Runa had already started getting to work on what she wanted to carve, taking a marker to draw out the areas she needed to cut out. It wasn’t anything crazy, just a design of a sky with a moon and a couple stars. Along the bottom there’s a drawing of a small wolf, appearing to be howling at the moon.

The girl was so focused on getting this done, carving out the bits of her design, she almost barely noticed Riku saying something. She let out a giggle, taking a break to look over at what he was doing. A tilt of her head as she leaned over to look at the pumpkin more.

“It doesn’t look that bad—“ Runa commented. “I can see the wings, but.. hmmm…” She placed her hand on her chin, humming as she thought.

Runa didn’t notice that Riku was looking at her work at all, so when he let out a laugh, her eyes widened a bit and she looked back over at him.

“H-Huh—? O-Oh—!” She looked back over at her own pumpkin, leaning back into her spot and running a hand through her hair. “It’s nothing much really… I’m not done yet, so who knows if it’ll end up looking nice with the light in it! Besides, the only reason it’s easy is because I drew on it before I started carving—“ Runa feels her cheeks heat up as she turns her gaze from her pumpkin to Riku.

And at seeing that smile of his and those eyes that seemed twinkle in the light, Runa definitely could feel her face turn red. “Ah—Ahaha—!! I’m sure that it’ll be just fiiiine—!” She laughs nervously, quickly averting her eyes away from Riku’s before getting lost in them and back to his pumpkin.

“Ahem— Let’s seeee… What if we made the body here a little bit bigger?” The girl suggest, pointing to what she assumed was the body of the bat. “Maybe try carving out just a little bit at a time, that way we know when to stop?”

[vivelegalite]

dear dead boy detective (especially paynland) enjoyers: have you yet heard of the biggest gift bestowed upon the fandom so far, aka jayden's charles playlist? the one he mentioned in interviews? well, he dropped it on twitter at 19th of may. and man, do i have stuff to say about it.

there's a lot of 80's bangers, for sure, great to get into the mood and character, but some of the choices...

i'm gonna focus on a few of my favourites, songs that made me go insane when i saw them. honorable mentions: - category 1 (so devoted the lines blur): ain't no mountain high enough by marvin gaye and tammi terrell, there is a light that never goes out by the smiths, inkpot gods by the amazing devil - category 2 (family life): family line and summer child by conan gray, seventeen going under by sam fender, matilda by harry styles, father by the front bottoms - category 3 (being queer in the 80s): smalltown boy by bronski beat, boys don't cry by the cure - category 4 (there's no heterosexual explanation for this one): good luck, babe! by chappel roan, yellow by coldplay, fight or flight by conan gray (is this about monty? the cat king? i need answers!), the prophecy by taylor swift, arms tonite by mother mother, sweet by cigarettes after sex, head over heels by tears for fears

this list is by no means complete or comprehensive!

and now, the songs that made me go the craziest: (they're predominantly in charles' pov as it's his playlist)

found heaven by conan gray

the only reason this song made it into the list and not the honorable mentions instead of smalltown boy is that it makes almost the same point, just so much more explicitly. i don't think i have to say much about it, it's a story of a young person griping with their queerness, being forced to leave home, a common theme of the playlist. "you're in love, you found heaven" when he chose edwin over his own afterlife, heavily implied to be heaven, and built his heaven with him on the mortal plane? ouch! (and we see this same notion repeated in another bop from the playlist, heaven is a place on earth by belinda carlisle).

2. like real people do by hozier

"i miss kissing" charles rowland, 202X romantic meaning aside, the verses show a sort of a common understanding the boys have around the manner of their deaths and their lives before it. we already know from the show they don't really talk about it, with edwin not knowing about the severity of the abuse charles suffered. it feels like one of them saying "let the past be past, we're together now, yeah?". but also, jayden: can there ever be a platonic explanation for this? ghosts can't touch, can't feel, so they wish they could just kiss like "real" (alive?) people do?

3. flaws by bastille

not the most romantic song, but i absolutely love how well it fits their dynamic. despite his edwardian brand of repression, edwin truly is the one that's more open about his feelings (recognising of course that in this case, the bar is so low it's in hell. haha, get it). edwin has worn his flaws upon his sleeve, and charles has held them buried - eg. bottling up all of his anger and resentment towards his family and his own death. the song presents a very sweet outlook, in which their flaws are brought up to the surface (for example, charles' outburst against the night nurse in episode 4), but they learn to accept them as they are, an extension of themselves.

4. a pearl by mitski

you know it's gonna get intense if there's a mitski song in the mix.

the song is about a person who finds love in their partner, someone who treats them way better than they've ever been treated - and yet they cannot bring themselves to reciprocate the affection ("it's not that i don't want you, sorry i can't take your touch") despite reciprocating the feelings themselves because of the trauma. charles is known to bottle things up ("you're growing tired of me and all the things i don't talk about"). the person in the song recognises the love the other person holds for them ("you love me so hard and i still can't sleep"), which reminds me of charles' response to edwin's confession. not a "no", but a "maybe, as time passes".

5. fair by the amazing devil

this one made me genuinely gasp when i first delved into the lyrics. it's simply so sweet, such a genuine and domestic portrayal of love. at first i thought it was way too open about being a love song (normal text instead of the subtext i'd be used to) for jayden to choose it with edwin in mind, but... there's no one else it can really be about. it's far too domestic, too "established" to refer to crystal. refers to a relationship that's laster for a longer while.

the narrator in the first verse is a person deeply in love with the other person, someone who loves to make his lover laugh and simply drinks in their presence. the "he" in the song i believe is charles, while the "she" refers to edwin. edwin promises to fight off anyone - or any feelings pulling charles down (we can see this in the first episode: "you ever think... what if death did catch us? she'd force us to go to the afterlife and split up" "i will make sure this never happens."). charles feels left behind by the world (seeing as he clings to crystal at first, refering to her as "someone their age who's still alive") and believes edwin to be so much stronger than he's ever been. i'm not going to break down the song verse by verse, but if you read it yourself while subbing out "he" for charles and "she" for edwin you'll see just how sweet (and... strangely very in character?) the song is.

6. work song by hozier

if the previous song made me gasp when i saw the lyrics, this one made me go "NO WAY" out loud when i saw the title. the first one verse is just pure toothrotting sweetness, but the chorus is what i want to draw attention to:

when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold, dark earth no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her

HELLO? charles, who keeps escaping death and afterlife to be able to stay with edwin? charles, as he literally takes his last breath with edwin right there, choosing to be by his side rather than move on? charles, who keeps choosing him despite night nurse's promises and threats? charles, who literally crawled through hell for him?

verse 2, to me, can be interpreted as referring to when charles died. edwin found him at his worst, and he "woke" up with his presence comforting him. he was shivering due to hypothermia and his injuries. edwin didn't ask him about what happened or pushed him, he simply listened. the lines "i didn't care much how long i lived, but I swear, i thought i dreamed her" are pretty self explanatory.

in verse 3 we still see the same attitude of "damn the afterlife, at least we have each other" as charles portrays througout the series. they're free, and heaven and hell are simply words to him.

7. orpheus by vincent lima

i literally have no words for this one. it fits too well. if you want commentary for this one, just... i don't know, rewatch the staircase scene.

8. francesca by hozier

(cracks knuckles) this is the big one. the album francesca is from, unreal unearth, is based on dante alighieri's divine comedy, a fourteenth century poem about a man venturing into hell, purgatory and eventually heaven. the eponymous francesca is one francesca di rimini, a woman who was politically married off to a man older than her, called giovanni malatesta. francesca didn't love him, and eventually fell deep in love with giovanni's younger brother, paolo. the two carried on with the affair for years, before being murdered by giovanni upon his finding out. francesca and paolo are mentioned in canto v of the first book, inferno, as two souls damned in the second circle of hell, lust. their punishment is to be permanently locked in a hurricane, swept away by the winds the moment they manage to get close enough to touch one another.

as opposed to their portrayal in the poem, the song is from the perspective of paolo, explaining that no matter the punishment, he wouldn't change anything about his life because he got to know, and love, francesca.

the first verse brings to mind the scenes in hell, especially on the staircase ("do you think I'd give up? that this might've shook the love from me? or that I was on the brink? how could you think, darlin', i'd scare so easily?" as an echo of charles' "sorry. no version of this where i didn't come get you"). "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" could relate to charles' tumultuous family life, an assurance that nothing he has to deal with while by edwin's side will faze him given the things he's lived through. no, despite everything he's suffered through, charles wouldn't do anything differently - because his (admittedly shitty) life led him to edwin ("i'd tell them, put me back in"). we already know charles would choose him over heaven, willingly sacrificing his own afterlife to stay with a boy he's known for hours, someone kind enough to keep him company as he drew his final breath. all of it - his father's abuse, his schoolmates' bigotry, the pain of his own death, as well as everything he's gone through since - he'd do it all again, for edwin.

"for all that was said of where we'd end up at the end of it" could be taken as an allusion to the fate the boys would meet at "at the end of it", when they're finally caught by death and separated, or as more of a general "if you sin, you will go to hell when you die" (up to you to decide what the sin itself would be - an interpretation that would work with other songs on the playlist is that one such sin would be same sex attraction). then their hearts ceased, they never knew "peace", nor did they want to find it in death. their deaths were too soon, them being ripped away from life, but even though it would break his heart: charles would ask to do it all again.

the outro, i think, beautifully pulls it all together: heaven is not fit to house a love like theirs.

to wrap it all up:

jayden, what were you cooking in there? what do you know??

[satkru]

Caked up Male!Reader getting hit on and felt up by his classmates at Jujutsu High.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 2nd yrs and 1st yrs x m!reader (w a FATTIE)

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ : zhellas bby.. ur reqs have my SOUL on a leash 😭

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ : m! reader w a big ol booty , (kindve??) oblivious reader , free-use reader , these students got NOO SHAME 🙏🏽‼️ , booty grabbing , booty slapping , groping (basically) , nsfw jokes abt the reader, i HATE panda so dont expect him to be here

YUUJI - ✦

y'all know yuuji aint the type of guy to let a perfectly good ass untouched, hes a literal FIEN for ts. so it wasnt a total surprise whenever yuuji was around his hand would sometimes (if not always) near y/n's voluptuous ass. his hand on one cheek gripping the ever living shit out of it. he just couldnt get enough of how circular it was and how it jiggled every time y/n walked.

before training, itadori would slap y/n's ass as a "good luck charm", as if the boner in his pants would help him in combat..

MEGUMI - ✦

fushiguro is the FARTHEST thing of a pervert, but when it comes to y/n.. god he just cant handle himself

hes very shy with his actions, mostly due to the fact that if he let himself get handsy with you, he'd go absolutely FERAL.

just the slight wobble of y/n's ass is enough to boggle megumi's mind and keep him busy for the next 2 hours.

but nevertheless, megumi is still a sane and sensible person around y/n, although he can be seen stumbling over his words whenever he does get the chance to talk to him.

NOBARA - ✦

goodness me.. nobara doesnt know how to keep her hands off y/n's fat ol booty..

she thinks she can excuse herself because shes "just a girl and girls can always feel up their friends butt whenever they want to" (her exact words) of course, because of her totally convincing tone, y/n doesnt think anything of the close and personal touching nobara does.

nobara LOVES grabbing handfuls of y/n's ass and wobbling it in her hands. making sure to take in every jiggle it produced.

INUMAKI - ᰔ

y/n is EXTREMELY lucky inumaki isnt such a freak, cs if he was, he would be commanding him to make it clap every second of the day.

inumaki isnt as handy as the others are, in fact, hes the most calmest of the bunch. but he does have his moments where he just cant help himself and starts to mess around with y/n. such as commanding him to grab something off the floor even if he was the one to drop it in the first place.

seeing y/n's arched back and his ass swaying back and forth just makes inumaki go into a frenzy. wishing he could act out everything hes ever thought of doing to you.

MAKI - ᰔ

LORD.. maki has absolutely ZERO shame in her body when it comes to y/n's fat ass. shes constantly hitting on him and fitting both of her hands around y/n's juicy and perky booty.

shes constantly making sex jokes between her and y/n and even goes behind to give him some "practice backshots".

maki makes absolute SURE that y/n's ass is constantly in perfect condition, even going as far as to carry a measuring tape to keep data on y/n's ass to see if it has grown or not.

definitely safe to say that she is very.. VERY... dedicated to the research of y/n's voluptuous booty..

YUUTA - ᰔ

im tired of ppl trying to play yuuta as a "sweet summer child", this man is DOWN for a BIG, JUICY FAT ASS like y/n's.

although he does get a bit nervous when hes around y/n due to his ass being so big it can make him hard just by one small movement.

yuuta is always taking the chances to feel up on y/n's bottom. if hes lucky enough, y/n will give yuuta special permission to lay his head of his butt.

which, safe to say, has made itself a special memory inside yuuta's brain.

[thebestofoneshots]

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Read Gilded Constellations on AO3

Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader

Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k

Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.

Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)

♡ Indicates SMUT

PLAYLIST

01 | Summer Breeze

02 | Escape

03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony

04 | Rainy Days and Mondays

05 | Good times

06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love

07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling

08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love

09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke

10 | Black Dog

11 | Do Ya

12 | You really got me

13 | Rebel, Rebel

14 | Maybe I’m Amazed

15 | No One Like You

Interlude (Q&A Event)

16 | Boogie Wonderland

17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

18 | Friends will be Friends

19 | Silver Bird

20 | Bad Moon Rising

21 | Fox on the Run

22 | Long Long Way From Home

23 | Hungry Eyes

24 | Peace of Mind

25 | I’ll get Even With You

26 | Hooked on a Feeling

27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)

29 | With a Little Help From My Friends

30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water

31 | Strange Magic

32 | Come a Little Bit Closer

33 | More Than a Feeling

34 | You Belong to Me

35 | Chill of Desire

36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

38 | Let the Good Times Roll

39 | Running With the Pack

40 | Hot Stuff

41 | Urban Adventure

42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

43 | Sympathy for the Devil

44 | No One But You

45 | Hold The Line

46 | Comfortably Numb

47 | Let Me Take You Home Tonight

48 | Dust in the Wind

49 | High Hopes

50 | Love the One You're With ♡

51 | Some Guys Have All The Luck ♡

52 | Twentieth Century Fox

53 | Too Much Love Will KiII You

54 | Sail Away Sweet Sister

55 | Noone Together

56 | Who Wants To Live Forever

57 | Play the Game

58 | Staying Power

59 | Break on Through

60 | Stone in Love

61 | Mr. Blue Sky

62 |

63 |

64 |

65 |

66 |

67 |

68 |

69 |

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BONUS TRACKS:

Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,

Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list

A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

[eggiesins]

Sandrock Bachelors Being Drunk

Mild NSFW so Minors DNI

My first head canon post, enjoy!

Arvio

Arvio already has no idea what inhibition is so expect his personality to intensify by 200% while his ability to actually come up with schemes drops by 200%.  He’s gonna have so many half-baked terrible ideas that he will immediately try to act upon, so be ready to keep him on a kid leash to avoid some really dumb incidents.  “Builder!  I just had the best idea for how to get more investors for By the Stairs, but we have to act fast!  I’m hopping on the next train to Atara right n- what do you mean it can wait til morning??”  Arvio already slurs his words, so drunk Arvio I could see being almost unintelligible.  Once he’s drunk enough, he’ll constantly flip back and forth between beaming over how much he loves the builder and sobbing over Fang’s most recent rejection.

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE rizz

Amirah helps at first, but clocks out of babysitting after the first hour of shenanigans.  Good luck Builder.  He’s your responsibility now.

Burgess

Sweet, sweet summer child Burgess.  He’s not much of a drinker, but would easily be peer pressured into drinking games, especially if the Builder wants him to play.  Others offer to drink for him if he wants, but Burgess insists that, as the Chief Water Inspector, his high hydration levels and position of bureaucratic authority give him a high enough tolerance to make it through the whole game.  They do not.  Sweet baby boy’s never been drunk before and has no idea how to handle it, so be ready to babysit this one too.  He’s gonna cry over how beautiful the cactus flowers are in full bloom, how Banjo jumped in his lap and started purring, and how you’re an angel from the Light sent to save Sandrock.  Keeping him hydrated is easy, but if he does throw up, he’ll never forgive himself for the wasted water.

He’s very good at listening to the Builder’s instructions and advice on sobering up, though.  Of all the drunks on this list, he’s the easiest to comfort and get to bed by far.

Drunk Burgess is a “sinner” (by his perspective) & 100% gives Pen the “you’re a bully but I forgive you” speech instead of turning the other cheek or forgiving immediately.

Ernest

It’s been a while for him.  Did he drink and party with Luna back in Atara?  100%, but since arriving at Sandrock, he’s been so busy with hyper fixating on Logan and trying to survive droughts and sandstorms, there hasn’t been much of an opportunity for him to just let loose and party.  Once he finally does, though?  Mans is writing sonnets on sonnets on sonnets.  None of them rhyme, or even make sense, but he gives them his all anyway.  “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”  “Ernest, you said that one already.”  “Did I?  I guess every time I see you, I seem to just forget everything else.”

Ernest is pretty open about flirting with the Builder normally, so when he’s drunk, expect to hear it way way more.  He’s gonna rizz up that Builder as well as his drunk brain can ‘cause he absolutely LOVES seeing them blush because of him.  He’s all talk though, well aware that when he’s drunk, neither he nor anyone else should take him seriously.  He’s just having fun!

Fang

I could see Fang going one of two ways when drunk: either he realizes he’s drunk and immediately goes to sleep regardless of location OR his walls come down and you get to see an almost completely unfiltered Fang.  When his walls come down, oh man, Arvio better watch out.  If Arvio were to try any shenanigans, Fang is definitely telling him to shut up and sit down.  He’s grumpy normally, so drunk Fang would be much more likely to express that grumpiness.  It’s not that he’s a mean drunk so much as he is just more comfortable expressing himself under the effects of liquid courage.

If he’s with the Builder, he becomes soooooo clingy and jealous.  “The feel of your touch, unforgettable.”  Yeah he’s not giving up the feel of your touch while he feels confident enough to truly demand it.  If the builder is standing, he’s right behind them with arms around their waist.  If the builder is sitting, his head is on their shoulder, hand on their thigh, glaring down other townies who get too close.  

X lowkey loves when Fang gets drunk because it means he doesn’t have to filter what he says either, not that he does it too much normally.  He definitely eggs Fang on if the kind doctor happens to be roasting someone (Arvio) like a squawking mini-hypebeast.  At the same time, X helps the builder out a lot with getting Fang to drink water and go to sleep.

He has a very low tolerance, 4 drinks max

Justice

Our favorite Sheriff and tiredest dad of all the bachelors, Justice definitely knows how to drink.  One of his best friends is the local saloon owner, so yes, Justice has a pretty high tolerance.  With that, Justice tends to be pretty mellow when he drinks, but if he’s with the builder, he’s getting flirty too.  He’s gonna lean hard into the cowboy aesthetic, with a fake tip of the hat before asking the builder to dance.  During the dance Justice is pulling the builder close enough to stand on his feet (so he doesn’t drunkenly stumble on them) & going all the way with the spins and twirls.  He’s not elegant by any means, but he is fun!  He’s giggly and having a good time (probably annoying Logan).

If the builder is a friend, he’d insist on walking them home to see them off safely before stumbling back to his house.  If the builder is more than a friend, Justice is definitely laying on the rizz  and trying to get laid down at the workshop.

[insert “hmm society” question about life here] (seriously though, why do all the civil corps members wax philosophical so often?)

Logan

We all know the yakboy only dances when he drinks, but what else will he do when drunk?  Logan has a temper, yes, but he’s also a soft gooey ball of affection with the people he cares about, and that dichotomy is on full display when he drinks.  He avoids drinking games (they’re dumb & childish & he’s a grown man, damnit), but if the Builder wants to get up to drunken shenanigans?  Oh he’s in.  

“Darlin’, are you seriously tellin’ me ya wanna go build a scarecrow that looks like death to set up outside Cooper’s house ‘n scare him when he wakes up at 4am?”  “Ye”  “What do ya need me to do?”

Surprisingly, not a horny drunk at all (fanfic writers sue me).  BUT, he is an affectionate drunk with the builder.  Kinda like Fang, he’s all about the physical affection, especially in public.  The builder is his, and he’s gonna make sure it stays that way.  When they get home, he just wants to lay in bed with the builder in a cuddly vice grip til they both fall asleep.

He definitely relies on Rambo knowing the way home, just hops up, tells the goat where to go, and halfway passes out in the saddle.  He’s definitely getting roasted for being a lightweight by Andy when he gets home.

Miguel

How else would a religious fanatic obsessed with discipline act when drunk?  Off the rails ranting & outright simping for the builder.  Full stop.  I’m not even a Miguel fan and I know this man is so down bad for the builder.  He wouldn’t even want to drink initially, until the builder challenges him to a game.  “Very well, Builder.  For the person who has done the most to promote telesis in this barren land, I can surely raise a glass or two in celebration.”

Once he’s drunk, expect a strange combination of sermon and praise for the builder (he will definitely be mortified in the morning).  But if the builder even touches him by accident, he’s already hiding a sneaky semi tenting his pants.  

“Miguel…are you hard right now?”  “Builder, it would be a sin for me to deny the truth of this situation.  *proceeds to dramatically throw his jacket off*  Take me now, body and soul.”  “I mean, sure, but…can that wait til we can get home?”  “OH…………………..yes”

The next morning, while nursing a hell of a hangover and the raw, unfiltered embarrassment of drunken mistakes, he vows to never drink again.  At least, as long as the builder doesn’t ask him to.

Owen

Honestly?  I don’t see Owen acting too differently when drunk, just a lot less anxious when interacting with the builder.  Seemingly out of nowhere, his stuttering and nervous way of speaking with the builder is gone, replaced with a more confident barkeep.

He’s wicked good at drinking games, having spent his entire life inside of a saloon.  If you think you’re winning beer pong or rage cage against Owen’s 6 foot something ass, you’re wrong.  There’s a reason Justice and Logan outright refuse to play drinking games with him, and it’s cause it always ended with someone throwing up.  Never Owen, though.  He’s got a finely tuned tolerance for alcohol and knows exactly where his sweet spot is.  

He won’t really try to initiate any sexy times with the builder, but if they start dropping hints for him?  “Justice, can you watch the bar while I step out with the builder real quick?  They need some help..um…perfecting a new recipe.”  Cue Justice’s shit-eating grin.  “Sure pardner, take as long as y’all need” with a quick wink at the couple

Pablo

Is he drunk, or has he just been pretending to drink that much?  Who knows?  Pablo’s been around, especially in Walnut Groove.  He knows how to drink and even more so, he knows how to look how to drink especially.  He’s watching the town get absolutely smashed with glee, taking stock of everything that happens, especially anything embarrassing.

He’s the one who calls at 8am the next morning when you’re hungover to hell and back and tell you, in excruciating detail, every embarrassing thing you said and did, just in case you forgot.  All in all, I think he likes to drink a little, socially of course, but he’s far more interested in getting others drunk instead of himself.

Pen

Assuming that Pen can get drunk (he is sensitive to Duvos peppers), he’s gonna be glued to whatever the nearest reflective surface is.  But what actually surprises the builder is how genuinely affectionate he becomes with them, especially if they’re not officially a thing yet.  He wants them sitting in his lap so he can wrap their skinny arms in his big arms the entire time.

When he’s not being affectionate, he’s definitely trying to spar with them, though.  For Pen, fighting is very much foreplay, and this is even more true when he’s drunk.  He would already be turned on just by the builder existing, so a drunken brawl at 2am?  He’s the hardest he's ever been the entire time, full stop.  Bro is so hard from fighting the builder he has to take care not to fall flat on his face or he might break Pen jr.  

Pen avoids getting drunk because it also makes him feel guilty, at least some part of him.  He doesn’t necessarily like deceiving the builder (Sandrock he could take or leave tbh), but he has to so he can protect the life he wants for himself.  The builder changed a lot of that for him, so he feels a lot of guilt about keeping secrets.  Don’t be surprised if drunk Pen says he needs to confess something, only to go silent for 5 straight minutes before telling them he’s just hungry.

Qi

You know that meme about the guy’s roommate who blacks out and designs an entire airplane?  That’s Qi when he drinks, but with spaceships.  How did you get him to the saloon to start drinking in the first place?  Three words: Saloon Trivia Night.  Qi is competitive, and assumes that he’s usually at the top of his respective totem pole, so when Owen starts including trivia questions about archaeology, building, agriculture, etc, Qi can get frustrated relying on his team to answer for him.  And for every round lost, that’s another drink finished.  Soon enough, he’s ranting about the uselessness of “soft sciences” and the possibilities of interstellar space travel (someone please just make out with him and shut this nerd up)  The drunker he gets, the more he only excuses the builder’s mistakes and no one else’s.

This man definitely gets hot and bothered when drunk, but has no idea what he’s feeling or what to do about it, so he usually just goes to bed.  If the builder is romancing him, though?  The builder will definitely need to initiate things, but from there a now-uninhibited Qi goes off, following any and every instinct he can that the builder will allow.  He wants to try everything with them, for science of course.  

Unsuur

Regular Unsuur is honest, if a bit stoic.  Drunk Unsuur is too honest, and still kinda stoic.  As soon as he has a thought, he’s saying it, no filter.  It doesn't matter who he is talking to or what he is saying, he’s gonna let loose with whatever he’s thinking.  “Hey Cooper, why do you talk so much?  Like, you talk a lot.  Going on and on, kind of like I am now.  Why do you do that?”

“Unsuur, are you drunk?”

“Yeah.  Oh.  Builder, can I make love to you until you’re breathless and destroyed and the only word you know is my name?  I think you’d be really beautiful like that”

“Unsuur, we’re in public! Everyone can hear you right now.”

“Oh, yeah.  We should probably go home before doing that.  Pretty sure having sex in public is a crime.”

Aside from shamelessly flirting with the builder, Unsuur would also just wax philosophical to all the town pets in some corner of the saloon.  None of the other drunks there could keep up with his train of thought, but he doesn’t let that stop him.  Now Macchiato’s third eye is open, and he’s considering joining the civil corps under Captain.

I hope you guys enjoyed the headcanons! Let me know if you want to see the bachelorettes too! Yan has dialogue in the game about "mixing yakmel milk and catnip" so if y'all want any other headcanon posts, intoxicated or otherwise, let me know!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: Humping it up on hump day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You taste the cocktail and make a face. As sweet as it is, the alcohol is stringent in your throat. You set the glass down as Bucky’s fingers tap on his pint. You glance up, surprised to find him watching you. 

"Don't like it?" He asks. 

"Mm, no, I mean yes. No." You stutter out. "It's good, I just... don't drink much." 

"She's a good girl." Your mom teases. "I always had to push her out the door. Oh, don't even ask about prom." She grabs his forearm and cackles. "You would think buying a dress would be fun. Nope. I think she'd have rather gone to the dentist." 

Your cheeks turn hot. Four years past and you still cringe at the fitting room torture. You look down and fiddle with the cutlery wrapped in a red napkin. You really wish she wouldn't treat you like a child. You suppose at times you might act like one. 

"Those things can be tough. I barely remember mine. Only went so my buddy didn't feel like such a loser," Bucky shrugs. "But look at how far you've come. I'm sure high school is like a blip on the radar. Now the real fun begins, huh?" 

You know he's trying to help and you appreciate. But it only makes your chest tighten. The dread throbs in your temples. Life, it's all ahead of you but you have no idea where to start. 

"Yeah, I... I barely remember." You talk to the table. 

"She's a smart one," your mom praises. "I really lucked out. No teenage angst, no rebellion." 

You chew your lip and pick at the trim of the table. You sound lame. You are and you never minded the safety of that trait. Still, you'd like to be known as more than a boring little bookworm. 

"Okay, here we are." The server rescues you from further humiliation. "Chicken caesar." 

She puts your salad in front of you, "cheese steak sammy and macaroni salad." She lays a plate in front of Bucky, "and the sizzling fajitas." 

Another server appears with a wooden plank, set with a cast iron pan atop it and fixings; tortillas, salsa, guac. It smells delicious but you know it's too early for all that. You'd be even sleepier and you still have to get unpacked.  

"Enjoy," the waitress smiles and struts away. 

You unwrap your cutlery and use the knife and fork to shred the lettuce. You should've known better than to order salad. It's always so awkward to eat with others around to see. 

"Mm, pretty good," Bucky says. "Lauren, how's that extravaganza? Really went all out." 

"Wasn't expecting all this." Your mother scoops grilled peppers into a tortilla, daintily with her fork as her nails shine in the light. You remember when you asked to get a manicure and she said they were impractical... 

She's changed but you don’t feel all that different than when you left for college. Maybe you should have tried harder. Well, it's not like your life is over. Far from. 

"How about you?" Bucky prompts and once more you meet his gaze with a startled blink. You nod and swallow. 

"Good. Just boring old salad." You say. 

"Always chicken caesar," your mother chirps. "Creature of habit. Don't worry. You'll hardly be surprised. By tonight, she'll have one of her books and you won't hear another peep." 

You bite down on your tongue. You're not sure anymore if she's bragging or she's chiding you. Her life is so exciting now. Her hair is highlighted, her nails are filled, and her makeup... she's actually wearing makeup. 

"Didn't think you could work with those." You say as she catches her nail on her napkin. 

"Oh, yeah, I'm not in the ward anymore. Sweetie, didn't I tell you? I do clinicals now. I just show the new ones what to do. Not much hands-on stuff." 

"Uh, I remember. Sorry." 

"Too sharp," Bucky chuckles. "Can't even hold her hand without getting clawed." 

She jabs him with her shaped tip and he grunts. They laugh together and you look around. You're the sore thumb sticking out. Ever the third wheel. Even when you had 'friends', you sat on the sidelines, confused by their inside jokes. 

"It's very good. Thank you." You sit forward and focus on the salad. The sooner this is over, the sooner you can do exactly what your mom expects. Hide with a book. Alone. 

🩵

Home is always a comforting sight but not as much as you expect. A flicker of guilt sparks in your chest. Bucky just bought you lunch, you shouldn’t be so negative. Still, you just want to unwind after a long day of traveling. 

As much as you want him to just go, you would never say as much. Your mom seems happy with him. She even seems healthier. It’s nice to see her taking care of herself, she’s done enough of that for others for too long. 

You get out of the car but Bucky’s too fast. He has you bag in his hand before you can react to the trunk opening. He smiles and insists, “I got it. You lead the way.” 

“Mm, I could nap about now,” your mother calls over the car roof. 

You agree internally. The whole train ride, you looked forward to burying yourself in blankets and leaving the world behind. It would be rude to do so with company around, even if they aren’t yours.  

You follow your mom to the front door and she unlocks it with a yawn. You enter and slip your shoes off on the mat. Things are different. Not too different, you can’t quite place everything. Yet you notice that the coat rack has been replaced with mounted hooks across the wall and the rug at the bottom of the stairs is new. 

“Oh!” Your mom spins, surprising you before you can sneak past her. “I forgot about your surprise!” 

You look at her then over your shoulder at Bucky as he plunks down your bag. You wait for him to respond. He just offers a small curve of his lips. You turn back. 

“You,” your mom taps your nose. “Come on. Ah,” she waves around you at Bucky, “bring her bag with you.” 

Your mom grabs your arm and ushers you upstairs. You can’t resist, too swept up in fatigue and confusion. He follows behind you. What’s happening? 

“Okay. I hope you like it,” she goes to your door and your stomach flips. Oh no, what did they do? She swings the door open and backs up, waving inside, “tada!” 

You hesitate but make yourself step into the doorway. You glance around and your mouth slowly falls open. You blink at the room. Wow. 

It’s not awful, just another change you’re not ready for. Instead of your old rectangle bookcases, new circle ones have been built into the walls; white instead of brown. Your bed is the same but the wood is newly re-stained and the bedding is shade of pink you wouldn’t necessarily choose. A heart shaped rug is spread across the floor and your previous desk has been replaced with one that folds into the wall. 

There is an entirely new piece that stands out. A vanity in the corner. The mirror is the same shape as the carpet and the stool has a fluffy seat. 

“Oh, wow...” you utter as you step further inside. 

“Bucky is so handy! I always wanted to do this but I didn’t know where to start. Oh, just wait until you see his place,” she rambles as she trails you. “He built the whole thing himself.” 

“I had help,” he tuts and sets your bag down. “Tried not to do too much but just added a fresh coat to everything.” 

You’re silent.  

“Sweetie?” Your mom touches your arm. 

“I’m... surprised. That’s all.” 

“She’s speechless, Bucky!” She squeals and claps her hands. “I knew she’d love it.” 

“Heh, yeah. Well, I hope it isn’t too much.” He rubs his neck as he looks around. “You can let me know. I can change whatever you need.” 

“No, no, it’s really nice. Like really. I...” you wring a finger in your other hand. “Thank you.” 

“Lauren,” he sidles past you and nudges your mother gently. “Why don’t we let her get settled in? I’m sure she’s beat from the road.” 

“Right, right,” she beams around the room before she faces him. “Of course.” She glances over at you, “sweetie, let us know if you need anything, okay?” 

“Mom, I’m fine.” You show your teeth sheepishly and hover around the wall. 

Bucky leaves first, your mom following as she cranes to stare at the room. She leaves you with an excited wiggle and you go to close the door behind her. Once it’s shut, you sigh. You weren’t ready for any of this. Somehow coming home has proven even more disjointing than going away to college. 

You plod to the bed and flop onto it. You roll onto your back and let your eyes rove. It is so cute. You would have killed for a room like this in high school, even on campus. Yet it does seem a lot. You’re sure once you get a job, your mom doesn’t expect you to stay too long. 

Maybe this is a good thing. A little less pressure on you to get out but not exactly. With Bucky hanging around, you can’t help but be in the way. You’re not the only one who needs to adjust to your return. 

You can worry about it all later. For now, you need to close your eyes and stop thinking. 

🩵

The afternoon wears on as you dawdle away on your phone. You can barely keep your eyes open as the screen glares back at you. It’s almost six when you make yourself stop the addictive word game.  

You lay listless, trying to urge yourself to get up and do something. You lose the battles as your eyes close and you drift off without realising it. In your subconscious, you’re just as you are in reality. Just lying there, motionless and mindless. 

You wake slowly as pressure squeezes in your pelvis. Your bladder forces you to action. Even with the painful weight throbbing inside, you move without urgency. You sit up slowly, dizzy from the unexpected doze. You stand and shuffle to the door. 

You leave it open as you go into the hall and let your feet guide you. Habit takes down to the bathroom door and you reach for the handle. It turns from the other side and you recoil in surprise. Bucky stops short as he emerges and apologises. 

You stammer as you gape back at him. Somehow after the whirlwind morning, you forgot all that change. In your grogginess, you didn’t see the new walls or the white bookcases or think. 

“S...Sorry...” you murmur.  

You’re consumed in radiating heat as you stare at the stubble along his neck. Any lower and he might be embarrassed. He is shirtless after all. You’ve never been the best at looking people in the face but you have no choice. You examine his silver-streaked hair, slightly tussled, and his grizzly beard with its dusting of white along his chin. 

You step back as he raises a palm and dips his head. “No problem. Gotta get used to each other, I guess. Bad timing, is all.” 

“Right,” you agree dully. 

He looks back at you and his forehead creases. “You okay?” 

You wince. “Yeah, why?” 

“Nothing, nothing. Just... you look... a little out of it.” 

“I fell asleep,” you run your fingers along your throat nervously. The motion catches his eyes. Their startling blue hue gleam in the light. 

“Right. I figured you needed it. Long ride...home.” His gaze flicks up to meet yours. “Sorry you’re stuck here with us boring old people. You probably miss it already.” 

You shrug, “not really.” 

“Not really? What about your friends?” He rests his hand on the door frame and leans. 

“Didn’t... just study buddies. Classmates.” You look away and shift as your bladder aches. 

He clears his throat and stands straight. He steps out of the frame and you jump at his sudden movement. He touches your hip to keep from colliding with you and sidles by. 

“I’ll just get out of your way, baby girl,” He squeezes, his hand lingering for a moment. “Welcome home.” 

He lets go and turns, strutting down the hall as you stand frozen. You hurry forward and shut yourself in the bathroom as you scramble with the sudden agonizing pang. You don’t have time to think, you have to go! 

[percyluvr]

hi! can i request child of apollo reader with a cold/is sick x percy jackson who takes care of her lovingly even though theyre just friends? kind of like that lyric in apple cider "even if we're just friends, we could be more than that." thank u hehe!!

percy jackson x reader summary: you get the flu and percy takes care of you wc: 613

You told yourself that you would not, no, could not get sick. The number of campers coming into the infirmary was increasing daily, and you weren't sure why. It happened every year around the beginning of summer. Probably due to the influx of new campers, you thought.

But of course, whenever you promise yourself something, the exact opposite happens, and now, here you were in the Apollo cabin with your best friend, Percy, taking care of you.

When you had first gotten sick, you thought it was just some common cold, and thought it would be a little weird to have gotten a cold during the beginning of summer, you figured it was just due to the changing of the weather and you would be fine within a couple of days, but of course with your luck you had gotten one of the worst cases of the flu that any of your siblings in the Apollo cabin had ever seen.

You'd begged Percy to not try to take care of you, since he'd most likely get sick too, and it would be worse than you, since he wasn't an Apollo kid, but of course he wouldn't listen, insisting that he needed to take care of his poor best friend who was suffering so deeply, his words not yours. You begrudgingly accepted his help, because honestly, who can resist Percy Jackson when he's giving you puppy eyes? Not you, apparently.

"You wanna know what I think?" Percy says, breaking the small moment of silent before you inevitably cough up a lung again.

"Not really."

"Too bad. I think that you're sick because you overwork yourself all the time."

"I said I didn't want to know what you think."

"And I said too bad. Seriously, you need to stop overworking yourself, or you're going to keep getting sick like this. It's like, scientifically proven or something."

"Okay, whatever. You're not a doctor, I am. I think I know what's good for me."

"You think. Emphasis on think."

You roll your eyes, and Percy goes back to laying his head on your shoulder, which you had told him numerous times not to do.

"Percy, seriously. Stop getting your face so close to mine, you're going to get sick."

"I don't care. I want to be near you, and maybe my charm and good looks can help you feel better."

"Not how that works, but sure, if you say so."

"I do say so."

You roll your eyes for what feels like the six hundredth time, and put your arm around his shoulder.

When you begin to cough again, Percy jolts up and runs over to the cabin in the corner, getting out a large bag of cough drops. He picks your favorite flavor out, and grabs your water bottle. He then hands both of them to you.

"Hey, I kinda like you being sick." You raise an eyebrow. "Okay, stop. That's not what I mean. I just mean that I can finally be your personal nurse, and not the other way around. 'Cause you're always healing me, but I've never been able to help you back, and now I feel like I can."

"Aw, Percy, that's actually really sweet. I'm glad my suffering is making you happy."

He rolls his eyes in response and sits back down on the bed next to you.

"I know I'm sweet. I'm also going to ignore the other thing you said," he says, putting his arms around you and bringing you to lay your head down on his chest.

It doesn't take long before you're deeply sleeping and using his chest as a pillow while he gently strokes your hair.

[rottiens]

red in his cheeks, green in his eyes┊i. rin

✮ tags. . (18+), fluff (sfw), not established relationship, all characters are adults. no use of pronouns but afab!reader in mind, reader wears a dress and earrings.

✮ summary. . you always enjoy making your soon-to-be boyfriend blush; it's so simple that it's become a habit.

✮ wc. . 1k

✮ notes. . i want to make him blush and make him so uncomfortable that he doesn't know what to do with himself, my bad lskd | divider creds: cafekitsune.

Rin Itoshi is many things.

Some people may point out how good a soccer player he is, others will comment that he is cold and unfriendly. If you ask him himself he will tell you that he is (probably) resentful and vengeful.

However to you, while many of these things are true (especially the part about him being cold), you will highlight how good of a listener he is, especially since he prefers to stay quiet while listening to you direct the conversation where you want it to go and how you want it to go, providing occasional monosyllables or some vibration that comes from his throat rather than his chest. He will make contributions to the conversation about his personal life or his day exclusively if you ask directly about it.

Although the last few weeks, he has been a bit more talkative than usual (that is, complete sentences without you having to ask him about his day first).

Rin is someone sweet, at least in his own way. His good listening makes him surprise you with details you're not expecting, like remembering important dates or little details of what you told in a babbling outburst that you barely remember now and you like him, you genuinely do. You're able to see through him, really see what's hidden in his chest behind those layers of hatred and rancor that hide pain and Rin hates it.

Among the long list of things he hates, is your way of being able to read him so easily. Recognizing why there are wrinkles on his forehead, his wrinkled nose or pursed lips. He dislikes how gentle you are when you approach him, you treat him with the same gentleness in which a butterfly would sit on a flower and that settles his stomach, tightens his gut and makes him feel sick; to the point where he claims he has a fever, it's not normal the way his whole body suddenly starts to burn, his forehead and ears, his neck and chest tight, along with sweaty palms.

He dislikes how nice you are to others when most don't deserve it and also how pretty you look when you wear those summer dresses because they make others look, when no one else should be able to admire how beautiful you are.

There are many things Rin detests about himself, his brother and certain parts of your personality, but never you, or your presence in his room late at night or your high, excited laughter that comes straight from your stomach. He could never hate you, not when you look at him like you do now, with dilated pupils and eyes full of genuine concern. He didn't remember what it was like to be treated like that, not at least not since he was a child.

“You didn't have to come see me.” Rin says it more out of concern —you are sick, after all— but he tries to sound nonchalant, ignoring the incessant drumming of his heart. His crossed arms rest against his chest as he leans his body weight against the wall.

“Of course I had to, it's your last game, I had to come give you your good luck gift,” you say, a smile etched into your words and with a voice heavy with a cold, you almost sound like you just woke up.

It's halftime, and Rin has slipped out of the locker room so he can see you in the semi-dark hallway. Even in the poor lighting, the earrings he gave you for your birthday sparkle with excitement, a nice touch that goes so well with your impish smile and the outfit you've chosen for him.

“Gift?” His greenish eyes go to yours after scanning (he hopes slyly) your figure.

“Hm.” You purr as you lean in a little closer, invading his personal space. You take his arm, freeing it from the shield that covered his ribs, to intertwine your fingers with his. That simple contact is enough for the dizziness and numbness to take hold of him again.

His fingers tighten under the heat of your touch. And when you lean in for a quick kiss, his whole body stiffens, his eyes open wider, unlike yours. You're so close he can feel your chest press against his, as your perfume envelops him with a familiar warmth. Your lips linger together for an instant, not deepening the kiss that seems to be the promise of something more.

You've been dating for a few weeks, though calling it “dating” is debatable. You're still in that unlabeled limbo where you're two friends holding hands, shopping together, going to the movies, and occasionally sharing a kiss. Sometimes you'd like to know what Rin is thinking….

“If you win you'll have more of these,” as you pull away from him you lick your bottom lip, still tasting him in your mouth.

…Especially at times like these, where his cheeks are so red from a simple touch, where he knows how to hide his nervousness so well and yet his face always gives it away.

His eyes drift to the end of the hallway, to where the light of the stadium devours the shadows. From there, the bustle of the stands comes muffled, almost drowned out by the buzz of adrenaline coursing through your body.

Rin pulls away, pushing aside the fingers you had grabbed and allowing them to return to their usual space, on his chest. Then he heads toward the locker room, perhaps to wipe off his sweat and get some water before returning to the field. Before disappearing completely, he stops to look at you. Your hands hang clasped together, and your smile —that smile that warms his body— seems to light up as if all the lights are on you.

“Watch me score the next goal for you.” Your smile widens, revealing your pearly teeth, and Rin wants to die right there. The next words he tries to say get stuck in his throat a couple of times, as if an invisible hand is squeezing his neck.

“You look beautiful,” he says, with a heated face. “But I'm still pissed that you're here while you're still sick.” And maybe, just maybe, those are the most romantic words you've heard from him in weeks.

You know how hard it is for Rin to open up and express how he feels. Even so, you're willing to wait for him until he's ready to admit what you both already know. In the meantime, you'll continue to relish every opportunity to make him blush or feel uncomfortable in the sweetest way possible.

[madaqueue]

QUINJAX | quinn x ajax / tartaglia / childe

university au / jock x artist, he fell first + he fell harder, dimpled smiles, summer/winter, matching pyjamas, forehead kisses, jokingly bickering, booping each other’s noses, always touching/cuddling/holding hands, blushed cheeks, sleepovers, good luck kisses, ‘hi pretty’, study dates, embarrassing each other with pda, biting his tummy, we cradle the sun <3

OUR SONGS

‘moon begins’ x florist

come on, feel the warm, feel the blood / space, come swallow me now

‘velvet ring’ x big thief

i just wanna take you home / love is a gentle thing / yours is thicker than a velvet ring

‘cherry wine’ x hozier

the way she tells me i'm hers and she's mine / the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine

COMMS

'put me down!' 'no :3'

MORE

#quinjax

[macabr3-barbi3]

Hello sweet summer child v( ͡° ᴥ ͡°)*

I love your work! I've come to yur account from a post I saw about Hazbin Hotel writers, and I love the dream story so much and powered through your archive of our own account in two days!!

If it's not too much to ask: Would you write a story with a reader and alastor, having anal sex? ԅ(≖‿≖ԅ) I just never see that in alastor fanfics, and I am so curious to see something written well and in character for him~ you seem perfect for the task!

Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for keep me from sleeping and tell you that I really enjoy the things you write!

I'M SO SLOW I'M SO SORRY

this anon has been patiently waiting pretty much since I opened my requests 😭 I hope this smutty lil piece was worth the wait! I'm so glad you enjoy my writing and I hope I can keep turning out lovely little bits to keep you awake xD

CW: anal sex, that's pretty much the whole thing lmao

Alastor was not normally one to try new things. You knew this- and it made you appreciate the things that he did try with you even more.

You were on your hands and knees before him, face shoved deep into one of the soft pillows of his bed while he worked a toy in and out of your ass, the rim of it stretched and pleasantly sore from how long he had been at it, gradually sizing up from his fingers to something wider that would actually get you ready. Alastor kept the lube flowing generously, so much that the slide of the toy was near frictionless, pressing in deep before slowly pulling back out. His breathing is steady and even as he prepares you to take his cock, the thumb of his other hand lazily caressing your clit and making you clench around nothing.

“A-Alastor, please,” you beg, words muffled in the pillow. “I’m ready, please…”

“Ready for what, dearest?” He asks lowly, and lets a finger slide into your cunt, pressing insistently at that sweet, spongy spot inside of you that made you keen and cry out. “How am I meant to assist if you won’t tell me what you want?”

“Fuck me,” you moan, head turned to the side to make sure that he could hear you. “I can take it, please,” and you press your luck by pushing your hips back towards him just to really sell the message.

He hums in his throat, both the toy and finger inside of you sliding free as he repositions out of your line of sight, rewarded at last with the feeling of his erection pressed against your twitching hole, hot and hard and wet at the tip. “I wasn’t sure that I would enjoy this,” he says, “with such an act being so… taboo in my time.” He starts to press forward, and it burns deliciously, a sweet stretch that makes your limbs tingle and a line of drool drip from your mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, your words wet as you sob them into the pillow. “Thank you, God, thanks for in- indulging me,” you manage, the feeling of his cock splitting you open enough to make your brain fuzzy at the sensation.

A finger comes back to your clit as he laughs darkly, hunching over so that his mouth is near enough to your skin to brush tantalizingly across it. “No, thank you, dear,” he whispers, his balls gently bumping your pussy when he finally bottoms out, your wail lost in the fabric of the sheets. “I might never have known- how much tighter this lovely body of yours could be. You’re clenching down on me so sweetly, my love.”

There’s a mental aspect to it, you’re sure; to the rapidly approaching bliss of orgasm that you can already feel buzzing in your bones as Alastor speaks. You love making him feel good, especially with something he was initially reluctant to try. You love the hint of desperation in his voice when he bucks his hips forward, a clawed hand digging into your hip where he clings to you for dear life.

A growl rips free from his throat as he comes down to bite gently at your shoulder, the slightest hint of teeth that he immediately soothes with his tongue. “To think,” he murmurs against your skin, “that you would be so desperate for me that you’ll take me in any hole. It’s enough to drive a man mad.” He begins to fuck you in earnest as your body burns at his words, the sweep of arousal and need that spreads through your body like fire rendering you beyond speech; you whine and moan like a whore into Alastor’s sheets, letting him use your body as he pleases, the only thing keeping you grounded the sharp pricks of his claws into your skin. You clench impossibly harder on him as the walls of your cunt flutter around nothing, his fingers wet with your slick and pressing insistently at your clit. “So perfect around me- fuck, darling, I’m already- fuck, fuck-”

His hips don’t stop shoving against your ass as he spends himself, a couple long pulses into the tight heat of your body as he growls, still pistoning as he fills you. He trails his teeth along the soft skin of your shoulders as if to distract himself from the way that you shake and ripple around him as you reach your peak as well, the echo of his cursing echoing in your head as you commit it to memory with a cry of his name. 

Everything is quiet for a moment while Alastor catches his breath, huffing heavily into your back and running soothing hands over the pinpricks he’s left on your hips. “Forgive me,” he says, and you can hear the tinge of embarrassment to the words. “I didn’t mean to- spend myself so quickly, before I could attend to your needs.”

“Needs met,” you slur against the pillow, a low groan escaping you when he pulls out and you feel his release dribbling slowly from your body before there’s a snap and soft fabric wiping at your sore skin. Your brain is still light and fuzzy as he cleans the two of you up, flipping you and repositioning so that you rest against his chest, body covered with silk sheets that he pulls over the top of you. “Thank you,” you murmur into his chest, the soft fur of it tickling your nose.

He hums into your hair, stroking a hand down your back. “It was a satisfactory venture out of my comfort zone,” he says softly. “I’m not sure that I would want to do this on a regular basis by any means but it would be a nice treat every once in a while.”

You hadn’t even expected him to agree to another time- you’d thought he would indulge you this once and move past it with how reluctant he had been at first, before he agreed once you assured him that it wouldn’t cause you any pain and that such an act was commonplace now. Your heart swells with affection, and you stretch up far enough to press a kiss to his cheek. “Love you,” you mumble, and the resulting rumble in his chest when he says it back is enough to lull you into an easy, sated sleep.

[sockonaleash]

Can i ask for Hajime, Makoto, Nagito and K1-B0 x reader that’s the Ultimate Unlucky Student? If this isn’t too much ^^ take your time because four characters can be a lot sometimes

hajime, makoto, nagito and k1-b0 with an s/o who's the ultimate unlucky student

type : headcanon, gn!reader

note : i'm assuming this is supposed to be in a headcanon format (sorry if not,,), this is overall just cute stuff :} i got a lil carried away, hope you don't mind! i apologize for the wait, i've been getting into fnaf lately,,,, springtrap,,,

requested : yes! greetings simp :D

Hajime Hinata

hajime would be very confused at first, he'd ask if it's similar to nagito's ultimate and if it's a cycle of good and bad luck. when you told him it wasn't and shit was just constantly hitting the fan, he got a little worried.

it's usually small things like you falling face first on the ground because you forgot to tie your shoes, every animal known to man constantly attacking you or the coins falling out of your wallet whenever you tried to buy anything from a vending machine to be never seen again. yet sometimes, it would ruin dates the two of you wanted to have.

one time - when the two of you started dating - you decided to go to the beach to have a date. it was the middle summer and there weren't any clouds in the sky, yet the moment the two of you finished setting everything up it started raining. the worst part is as soon as both of you went home the sky cleared. hajime would be the type to awkwardly show up at your doorstep right after the failed date, soaking wet, asking if "you had room for two in your house".

overall, i don't think he'd take it too hard. even if some hangouts fail there's always room for more. he'd worry, of course, but not to the point where he'd restrict your movement and choices (only if you have the risk of getting ran over or something).

Makoto Naegi

he's definitely the type to be constantly worried. although he is the ultimate lucky student he can only hope that his ultimate is enough to balance yours out (which usually just ends up the two of you sharing lucky and unlucky experiences).

before going out he'd tie your shoes extra tight, make sure you have a jacket if it's cold out or an umbrella if it's raining - with a smaller, spare umbrella inside your backpack if the first one broke. bought by the man himself! he'd be the type to grab your hand before crossing the road but not let you cross unless everything was right. by this i mean, no cars in the street, shoes tied, hand held, nothing in the way.

at the start of your relationship makoto thought he was being a bit too much but when you almost got ran over as you crossed the seemingly empty road he decided he could never be too sure.

altogether, he's worrying a lot. not in an annoying way, more of a "you're my troublesome child and i'll never let you out of my sight" type of way.

Nagito Komaeda

oh no. the good luck? still there. not a lot though. the bad luck? double. the cycle is still there, it's just that now whenever something bad happens it's two times worse.

nagito would be very nonchalant over both your talents and not let it get in the way of your dates. for example, if it started raining heavily during a walk and he noticed it was starting to flood the streets he'd try to convince you to go buy floaties to float down the street together. hopefully his good luck comes around quickly! you don't feel like getting stuck somewhere or drowning.

if you did get hurt he'd degrade himself - even if why or how you got hurt had nothing to do with him - and pay for your hospital bills. i feel like nagito would be the type to pamper his partner a lot with little gifts and try to carry you up the stairs if you broke your leg(s). And fail miserably at doing so.

he'd get into shit with you to just go "haha, my bad. how could i let this happen?"

K1-B0

kiibo. my sweet baby. like hajime, he'd ask a lot of questions when first meeting you! throughout time he'd get used to it and do his best to help you out. your gloves got ripped up by unknown causes and it's snowing? he'll use his hairdryer function to "breathe" onto your hands to quickly warm them up and when the two of you get home he'll sew them back up.

if you get hurt he wouldn't be able to carry you or anything (he's not particularly the strongest and his back pain doesn't help) but he'd take care of you afterwards! be it cooking meals, or cleaning the house.

everytime you get home he'll stop you at the door while concentrating reallyyy hard to use his zooming function to see if you're alright. doesn't do much, but you let it slide if it helps calm his worry.

so even if he's not able to support you during your spikes of your bad luck, he'll gladly lend you a hand afterwards!

[uncouth-the-fifth]

last child - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: more domestic fluff with leon, a touch of angst over leon's scars, passing mentions of drinking, leon being a fucking cheeseball, leon's obscenely handsome back. Words: ~3k Notes: hiiiiii. thank you all so much for you kind comments on the first drabble in this lil collection, i have never felt so inspired!! thus, here's more romantic bullshit with the guy. i'm thinking these will all exist within the same vague universe with detective!reader and husband!leon, especially because you guys gave me some very interesting ideas for him. this drabble in particular was inspired by emrurow, who suggested: "leon def has a whole package of scars from his missions and just imagine this scene where the reader is like gently caressing them and kissing them and its just so fluffly and sweet and vulnerable at the same time.........aghhhh." AGREED. now combine that with my strange urge to hose this bitch down with sunscreen. i hope you like the direction i took for this! enjoy <3

“Vacation” is a funny word in the Kennedy world.

When your work-buddies at the precinct bring up their vacations, it’s always a trip with the kids that’s months in the making, or summer getaways with the missus they’ve requested time off for. Always in the States and always planned ahead. The big joke in the bullpen is that the officer with the most cases closed this year will win a dazzling trip to Greece—but Leon has been to Greece, and he claims it’s pretty boring.

You think you’d find Greece pretty boring, too, if you spent the whole time there crawling around in the mud and hiding under enemy tanks.

So, no Greece for you. Vacations in the Kennedy world look more like this: Leon is cleared to go home, he somehow gets hold of your ever-shifting work schedule, becomes possessed with the urge to throw himself at the closest idea of “relaxing,” and springs it on you as a very romantic surprise. No elaborate itineraries. No plan. Just whatever consensus the two of you come to in the car, partners-in-crime escaping into the wind.

“So… Vegas?” You joke, slipping your key into the ignition of Leon’s precious Lamborghini Miura. So precious to him, in fact, that he avoids driving it at every opportunity.

The second he sags down into the passenger’s seat, your husband spams the recline button until he’s near-horizontal. The hand not cradling an ice pack over his nasty black eye curls loose around your elbow.

He scoffs, winking open his good eye at you. “With my luck?”

“Ooh, right. Bad idea then.”

Yeah. His track record with cars alone was impressive—he’d busted open two in the first year you’d been married, and you’ve been chauffeuring him ever since. Somehow, you don’t think Leon and casinos would mix.

You can’t resist the urge to pet his poor knuckles. These, too, were banged up. After a beat of the two of you filing through all of your available escape plans, you break the pensive bubble in the car by sweetly kissing his bruise-mottled hand. “Mwah. Where do you want to be right now, baby? Let me take you there.” 

Leon’s head had lolled to face yours, and for the millionth time since Racoon you’re struck by how bone-tired he always seems. He rasps with a tasteful touch of patheticness, “I want a cold beer and I wanna be outside. Wanna see you in a swimsuit, too.”

As straight-forward as a chainsaw, this guy. Hm. Your brows flick up at the picture he paints for you, and you lean right up to his face so Leon can see how unimpressed you are. “Do you want a sandwich, too, Mr. Kennedy? Maybe some—”

You go quiet even before Leon lays a kiss on you. It’s his hand that does it, long-fingered and twisted with damage, guiding you closer with enough painful tenderness to make a mote of sand feel special. Uhm. What had you been saying? You’d been talking, but… The touch wasn’t a little tap for you to tilt your head up, no—it’s just on the right side of needy, the heavy pads of his fingertips dimpling your jaw so he can pull you down to kiss him. Happiness tastes like spearmint gum. 

You part with a soft wet sound. Leon licks his lip and smiles, “No. Just wanna be with you.”

Well, the best place to be with him that involved cold beer, the grand outdoors, and one of your swimsuits was the lakehouse he owned up in Philly. The fact that he agreed to go there was truly a testament to how desperate he was to relax. The lakehouse wasn’t like his Lamborghini, your Prada sandals, or the boat bobbing in the marina back in DC—it was a family heirloom. One last relic of the old Kennedy money he never talked about. The most Leon had ever said about his inheritance was that it was “dirty,” and you don’t think he meant in the messy way.

Your husband’s secretive past aside, the memories you’d made here together were sun-warm and golden. If you were looking to make some extra money on the side, you think you’d offer up the place to the film crew of some wholesome coming-of-age movie. It was stupidly gorgeous. On a sunny afternoon like this one, the water was one horizon-wide mirror, making the whole day twice as sky-blue and shimmering. A pine-y breeze cooled the drying water on your back and fluttered through the heavy, low-slung trees reaching for passing paddle-boats. Hanging over the whole thing was Leon’s personal slice of the Appalachian mountains. He never said much about the house itself, but his childhood hiking the trails was free game.

Leon has a knack for escaping. He’s not nearly as good at vacationing. Lucky for him, you wrote the goddamn manual.

Your husband lays his chin on his folded arms and peers at you over his shoulder. “Like this?”

From where you’re standing rooted to the weathered wood of your jetty, Leon is a fucking vision. He lays out in the sun on his belly, lazy tomcat limbs loose and pliant on the dock. All you can make out of his face is the white, knife-straight scar on his chin, hidden by a feathery curtain of angel blonde hair. Even the tacky palm tree beach towel he’s laying on suits him.

…It takes you a second to answer, cause, yeah. Yes. That’s… wow. Holy shit.

“...Dear?” 

How can one word gush with so much smugness? Hoo, boy. He was a baby, honey, sweetheart guy. Not dear. For that, you slip off one of your foam flip-flops to smack him or something—but, of course, Leon swats it aside without looking. 

The innocent little shoe almost goes spiraling into the water lapping at the dock, but bumps into your cooler instead. A fishing boat just a few leagues out has arena rock radio on full blast. One of Leon’s hands taps out the drums for Hot for Teacher.

“Shut up.” You puff a strand of hair out of your face. “Is that really how you’re gonna talk to the person single-handedly saving you from sun-damage?”

“Haven’t saved me yet,” he gives a pointed wiggle of his poor, sunscreen-less shoulders.

As rebellious as you’re feeling, you do as told. He’s impossible to resist like this. Well, he’s upsettingly dreamy in any situation, but he’s at his worst when he’s all lazy and languid for you after too long apart.

“Let’s fix that,” you say, and uncap your tube of SPF 50.

Leon’s face drops back into his folded arms. You pad around his body on the towel, careful not to step on him as you take your usual seat on the small of his back. It’s then that the gravity of your task hits you. Why the fuck are his elbows attractive?

Bigger question: how are you going to survive the next fifteen minutes? It had been you in the skincare aisle this morning. Hell, your hand had gone for the lotion sunscreen over the spray sunscreen for a reason. In that moment, you knew how your decision would butterfly into the future, and that no matter what you would always end up here, staring down the gorgeous swath of Leon’s bare back. Un-sunscreened. Needing you to touch him. Ugh.

“My eyes are up here,” Leon remarks at your silence.

Your other flip-flop dings off his shoulder with a satisfying bounce.

“...I let that happen.”

You don’t doubt that he did, but it feels good to tease him. 

Burdened by the consequences of your actions, you slump forwards on top of him. He’s dinged up even back here, and there are strange, yellowing bruises patching around his shoulder-blades that you stoop to kiss. You understand why he only has the energy to lay flat on a towel like a fish. It looks painful, and not for the first time in your life you’re overwhelmed by the need to take care of him.

…He has single-handedly set feminism back at least thirty years.

Well. Dammit. You glare down at your husband’s stupid, beautiful back muscles. “I do this because I love you very much. Not because I feel obligated to as your wife, or cause’ of any societal expectations. Just because of you.”

Leon, still running on a dead battery, gives you a confident salute. You imagine eagles cawing overhead. “Yes, ma’am.”

Another loss for feminism: that gets a big, giddy laugh out of you. Maybe you just missed him, but his sleepy jokes are hitting the mark even more than usual. You’re still peeling with giggles as you drop a big dollop of sunscreen into your hand, and they don’t die down until you’ve spread it between your palms and begun to spread it out over his shoulders.

The tips of his ears have gone red. He warmly mutters, “Love that sound.”

Since it’s not every day that you get to indulge in your husband’s back, you take your time. He lets out a long breath when the cold cream meets his sun-warm skin, and in that one sound you hear weeks of pent-up tension already melting away. Leon has always seemed unstoppable to you. Even in his wiry rookie days, when you never would’ve called him wiry at all, he felt like he could plow through anything on a wave of willpower and spite. Now, that relentlessness has become physical. He’s plump with muscle all over. His back especially, so much of his weight as taut and ready-to-go as a bull on the charge. 

Or, in less words: he’s built like a brick shithouse.

But he is still, at his core, the not-wiry-yet-wiry rookie you loved. When you accidentally press into a new bruise, he makes a soft wincing sound through his teeth.

“Sorry, baby,” you utter. 

From then on, your touches go feather-light. You fan your palms down his slim waist and make sure his freckly shoulders get good coverage. For a while, the thoughts in your mind go somewhere far away and shapeless, focussed only on the task at hand. But the sunscreen makes his skin so shiny that all the little details catch more highlights than usual, and you realize, with a rising sense of discomfort, that all the things you aren’t allowed to know about him are laid out in front of you. There are loads of scars on your husband’s back that you don’t even recognise anymore.

The old ones are the ones you know. Most of them are nothing more than thin, pale discolorations now, just distinct enough to make out from memory. In a fucked up way, it’s fascinating: there is a sad old scar on the back of your hand from Raccoon, and when it passes over a similar jagged cut on Leon’s ribs, the two have aged together. But while you’ve gained only a few odd scrapes or dings being a detective in DC, Leon’s body is a whole new story.

They are not the neat, decorational scars an artist might accessorize a figure with. It’s all ugly, in inconvenient places that layer over one another, quick swipes, deep gouges, shallow bullet wounds, shredded lacerations, and more you don’t even have words for. Your heart plummets into your gut. You’ve seen these scars on him when they were still fresh bandages, but it only dawns on you now, stepping back to look at the full picture, just how many he has.

You swallow hard. “I’m so glad you’re home. Did I tell you that?”

Leon hums a yes, but it’s a dragged out, suspicious sound. He’s quick to sus you out. Nobody in the world can read you better.

You’re shooed off his back with a hand, and when he lumbers off his belly to sit up and face you, the sliver of black-eye you catch underneath his ice pack cuts you deep. He hasn’t opened his free arm for a whole second before you’re darting underneath it, his body tacky with sunscreen where it melds with yours. Your finger swirls around the oldest bullet-scar on his arm.

Leon takes a slow pull from his beer, squishing your face a little where it’s tucked against his shoulder. The bottle taps against the dock. Tink. Always, always, he has to joke with you first. “You’re making your worried face. Stop thinking.”

Your voice is muffled by his shoulder. “You can’t even see my worried face.”

“Then you’re making your worried silence.” Disappointed, he asks, “Where’d all your giggles go?” 

The reply that your mind loads up for him is an unfiltered, pained, I hate that you’ve been in so much pain. But telling him that would only be stating the obvious, and in the grand scheme of his mission and his self-bound duty to protecting other people, (never himself, never ever himself), it feels like a stupid thing to say.

You’re not sure what to say. Instead, you drag your finger down a raised pink scar on the back of his arm, laid neatly with connective tissue like rows of embroidery. “...What’s this from?”

Leon has to check to know which one you’re talking about. Squinting at his arm, he plucks through his memory before guessing, “Pulled a girl out of a fire.”

That is exactly what you figured he’d say. Sure, he’ll chatter your ear off about Aerosmith and Italian cooking to no end, but the second you even blink in the direction of his work, the chatter dries up. All that’s missing is the smart-mouthed segue—

Leon pulls a smug face. “She’s a virologist now.”

“Ashley isn’t graduating until next year,” you roll your eyes.

That earns you a one-arm shrug. He’s still glimmering with pride. “She’ll be a virologist in a year, then.”

It’s never what gave him the scar that he remembers—it’s why he got it, what cause he took it for, that he never forgets.

The arm wrapped slung around your waist goes for his beer again, and this time Leon squishes you extra while he takes his sip. When that doesn’t succeed in sparking another laugh from you, he drops all pretense and resorts to tickling you, pinching your side and keeping you fished against him when you shriek and squirm away.

“Leon!”

“What!” He groans. “I’m trying to have a little R&R and you’re brooding. Enough.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you scoff—and then scream in outrage, because Leon decides he’s had enough of you and attempts to push you off the dock.

The only reason you don’t go sploshing into the drink is because you get a good hold on him first, and if you go down, then so would he. Between all that playful wrestling and shouting, Leon tugs you into an insistent kiss. And because this is him, the center of all good things in your world, you come out of it warm-faced and giggling again, your cheeks aching with a bright grin. He never fails to make you laugh.

You slump back on the beach towel, still twitching with little laughs. Just to win some of your dignity back, you reach past him and steal a long sip from his beer, shaking your head at him the whole time. It washes down your throat bubbly and wonderfully cold. “So mean.”

“C’mere,” Leon pats the space next to him. And knowing precisely what he’s doing, he hits you with one of the closed-mouth smiles you never see and assuages all of your worries with one, “My sweet girl.”

Hook, line, and sinker. You join him on the end of the dock, (weary of any mischievous hands that might shove you in), feet dangling over the edge and dipping into the pleasant, swaying waters. The breeze on your wet skin is almost too chilly, so Leon’s sun-warm body spooning up behind yours is the ultimate balm. You bask in your personal space heater for as long as he’ll let you, and he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder as you squeeze him close.

There’s a long, scraggly white line snaking up his wrist. You outline it with a finger. This is one of the ones you were there for, back in Raccoon—Leon took a bad hit for you, pushing you ahead of him so you could get to safety first. You’re curious to see what he’ll say.

You tap the scar. “What about this one?”

Leon doesn’t have to look to know which one you’re talking about, this time. His nose nudges behind your ear, and your body thumbs head to toe with the rumble of his voice, a single harp’s chord plucked by an expert player. “Keeping my world safe.”

Oh my god.

A huge, impish grin blooms on your face. “...You are such a fucking cheeseball.”

Leon pushes you clean off his lap and straight into the lake.

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (PART FIVE)

one — two — three — four — five

notes: i apologize, this one kinda sucks because i work all day so i made this at work! <3

y/ndevils00

liked by ehaula, nicohischier, and 28,729 others

y/ndevils00 hello fellow devils hockey sufferers! today our dear boys in red (and white) played against the NY Islanders. they didn’t do good.

to start us off, i have a couple super sexy warmup pics of my uber sweet and very in need of a haircut boyfriend, rowdy! that girl behind him is so me every time i see him 🤩

to follow that, the first penalty of the game tonight was awarded to said boyfriend! oh how i love a bad boy 🤭 he sat behind the stanchion and later admitted it was to hide from my camera, but jokes on him, i got a pic anyways!

next slide, we have captain swiss with his tongue out. I LOVE THAT SLUT!

up next, we have haulaback girl with the ONLY devils goal of the night! (i told you we suffered) so happy for my uncle haula (we are not related in any form)

and lastly, we have my wonderful marino (and the diamonds), making the facial expression that sums up how i was feeling the entire night!

we inevitably lost, 5-1, to the island dwellers. better luck thursday boys!

tagged jackhughes, nicohischier, ehaula and john.marino97

ehaula thank you niece! (we are not related in any form)

y/ndevils00 you’re so welcome! i appreciate you keeping us from getting shutout!

john.marino97 why that picture? seriously WHY?

y/ndevils00 why NOT?

john.marino97 when i get a penalty, i get sprayed with water or smacked with a newspaper, but when hughesy gets a penalty, you make out with him for about half of intermission?

y/ndevils00 i support jack’s rights. but more importantly, i support jack’s wrongs.

jackhughes it’s true, she loves when i do bad things

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes once again, not putting your dishes in the dishwasher is not “bad” and i do not love it. it’s annoying.

jackhughes you said you loved my hair

y/ndevils00 i lied.

jackhughes wow, this betrayal runs deep. idk how i’ll ever recover from this stab in the back

y/ndevils00 i think you’ll be fine later 👀

trevorzegras gross

nicohischier did you just call me a slut?

y/ndevils00 yes. i can change it though; slut, whore, whatever you’d prefer to be called.

nicohischier is my name an option?

y/ndevils00 no, sorry, there’s been a unanimous vote to eliminate that option

nicohischier what?! who voted?

y/ndevils00 me.

user3 i love that at least half the pics are usually always jack 😭

user57 she feeds us so well 😩🫶

dawson1417 i didn’t make the post?!

y/ndevils00 you didn’t do anything of note. do better.

jamie.drysdale i don’t go here, but i look forward to these posts

y/ndevils00 aww jameson! you’re so sweet 🤭 come visit me soon!

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras I GOT A Y/N NICKNAME BEFORE YOU! IN YOUR FACE Z!

jamie.drysdale and of course! i’ll try and make it out to jersey asap!

y/ndevils00 oh, trevor has a nickname!

trevorzegras @/y/ndevils00 i do?! you’ve never called me it! what is it?!

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras what are you talking about? i call you it all the time, satan’s favorite child!

trevorzegras @/jackhughes is it too late for me to take back my advice about telling her about your feelings? she’s mean

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras why can’t you two just get along?

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras you love me, i bake you lemon cake in the summer! if jack were to break up with me, you’ll never have that again

trevorzegras @/jackhughes ya know what? on second thought, she can stay