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deniable-masterpiece · 7 months ago

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fusillade | dad!chris evans x son!reader

a/n — okay, i want to start by saying that this has FARTS. if you don’t like that, please, do not read‼️ scrolling is free, let people live, hate will be deleted and not tolerated, etc etc. i waited posting this for the longest time because i haven’t written anything like this before officially and it’s a relatively new kinky exploration. can be reader as any era of Chris, i just imagined him with some sort of beard and dilf look to him since he’s a father in this

summary — Chris tries to enjoy his day off but it doesn’t start the way he expected. The downsides of raising a teenage son lead to some weird resolutions of conflict.

warnings — age gap, incest, farts, face riding, face sitting (chris sitting on reader). 18+ only.

words — 5.8k

oh also, in case you missed it this has farts farts farts farts farts farts farts aaaaaaand some incest oh and farts too. enjoy!

Monday mornings weren’t fun for anyone. The harsh sunlight passing through anyone’s window is the sign of a long day to come, the first light of many fires that start and would continue to burn throughout the week. Even your blackout curtains couldn’t change today’s sunshine. Everything seemed to be in order, the sun had risen, your alarms had gone off at every time they were supposed to, without fail, at their projected volume. The only thing that was out of place in the typical morning routine was you. Your blaring alarms made no difference because they didn’t keep the key part of your morning routine—you—in the loop. Still in dreamland, you enjoyed the wondrous world.

But on the other side of the thin walls in your home, your dad had been rudely woken up on his day off to the sound of your alarm. For fifteen minutes, it rang continuously. It would fade out occasionally, but every five or so minutes, it would return to its loudest volume. And just when he thought it was over, your next alarm would start the cycle over again. It was a closed loop that you had yet to close. He tried giving you the benefit of the doubt. No one wakes up to their first alarm, not when they’re an active night owl, and they usually don’t wake up to their second. Chris knew that your most active hours of the night were past eleven p.m. On the few times that he did stay up late—usually on the eve of his days off—he heard you take multiple trips to the bathroom from inside his own bedroom until he heard the water from the sink running. The last time you used the sink, it would always run longer than the other times because you were usually doing your nightly routine and needed a steady flow. He always laughed at your antics, because they were something he would have to figure out on his own since you would never tell him. For all the times you called him an “old man,” his hearing never really let him down.

Now he wish it had, he wished his hearing loss would accelerate until he became deaf in the same way that the coffee he sipped at would accelerate his process of waking up. He thought that, maybe, just maybe, getting up early on his day off would be the key to enjoying it. He could drown out your sound with last night’s football game or catch up on that show you kept pestering him to watch. He was already enjoying the brief time in which he didn’t have to wear any clothes beyond a pair of boxers. The cool air tickled his body, unfamiliar but not unknowing of the feeling of being able to walk around while freely exposed to the cool air flowing through the house. He felt the need to wear more clothes that he normally might because you got easily distracted by him, more than two dudes living in one empty house should be making you feel. And you tended to stare or fail to get to the point when he was standing before you in his boxers. Chris naively thought it might be because you’re intimidated by his physique, that you haven’t quite reached the same levels of “man” yet and seeing him be so confident with what he naturally had was making you feel insecure. So, for his boy’s sake, he covered up. Being this close to naked was just one thing to enjoy about being awake before you, and maybe there would be more to come, Chris hoped. But no. The annoyingly vibrant alarm tone that echoed from your room was impossible to escape from. Even in the kitchen, down the carpeted stairs and anything in the thick flooring couldn’t stop him from hearing it. The sound itself wasn’t as loud as when he was laying in bed, but it had gotten on his nerves for daring to repeat again. The sonorous, pulse-like ringing matched his quickening heartbeat. It made his coffee-stained teeth grit, he felt like he could easily squeeze the ceramic mug in his hands to bits at the first chime of another alarm going off. One that would last for another fifteen minutes, one that was bound to play again after he waited for this successive round to end.

He swished the last of his typical dark, bitter roast around his mouth before swallowing it, letting it be the warmth soothing his throat that he so desperately wanted to let bile rise from. His stomach flipped with his anger, he was ready to say some unsavory things to you about needing to be more responsible. Even while barefoot, his steps were heavy and hit the carpeted stairs hard. Maybe that would wake you up, but he didn’t know if anything could. All he knew was that your alarm needed to be silenced, and somehow, he could wake you up another way.

On his way to your room, heading to the third door on the left, he saw the door to the bathroom right before it. His stomach twisted and rumbled, already feeling the motions of coffee running through him, but anger made it to shore first and crashed into the front of his head. That damn alarm needed to be turned off.

Chris came into your room wearing a pair of plaid boxers. Deep, navy blue, a size too small for him but that’s how everything seemed to fit even if it was a size up. His figure seemed to show no matter what he wore. His boxers were far from loose, being weighed down by his overfilled pouch for his crotch in the front, the single-button fly keeping the fabric from splitting down the sewn-in gap and letting his girth and balls spill out. And in the back, his oceanic boxers had their limits and Chris’ plump ass bobbed in them. They constantly gave him a wedgie, the fabric digging deep into his crack and his thighs being mostly exposed since the boxers couldn’t even fall low enough, functioning more like boxer-briefs as a result. Grey and black stripes formed squares over the deep blue color, little white squares filling in the middle of each square the intersectional lines made. The lines curving over his cheeks, they were like a netted stress ball. One squeeze and all that fat would just slip through your fingers.

Your hands were the perfect shape to cup something as round and doughy as his ass, sleeping face-up with both arms splayed out in irregularly polar directions. At the bend of your elbows, one pointed towards the headboard above you and the other reached out to your phone. Chris would have taken a picture of that moment—your head turned away from the incoming sunshine and nestled into your pillow, something he would have thought put Sleeping Beauty to shame… while you would have blabbered on about how out of it you look, quick to use the excuse that you can’t control how you sleep to justify why you look so “horrible.” But that word wouldn’t have been the first to come to your dad’s mind when he looked at you. Quickly, his anger towards you goes from a raging sea to a slowly ebbing current. You’re just his baby boy, he could never stay mad at you for getting your beauty sleep! Your phone on the other hand… that nuisance still remained wretched and horrible. It was the cause of all your horrible behavior, like a friend who’s a bad influence, except there is no one else to blame when it caters to you. Chris would have to do the same thing he does to people who harm his boy.

He picked up your phone off the night stand next to your bed. It has been vibrating so much that it was halfway sticking off the stand and would have fallen during the next alarm.

Chris’ thumb hovered over the snooze button. Maybe if he put an irregular break in your alarm’s incessant blaring, it would throw your mind off schedule. An untimed noise would no doubt work in startling you awake. But, he was already in your room. He might as well do it himself, even if he expected you to act like an adult by now and get yourself up and ready. As much as it pained him to admit, this was one of the things he wished you didn’t need him for anymore. He knew that he would be greeted with an annoyed “Daaaaad” and complaining from your end instead of just thanking him for doing what you couldn’t. No, he could already hear the whining in his head that you were “just about to get up,” and that he “never gave you a chance to prove him wrong.”

He hit the stop button, setting that alarm in stone as being done and over with. But what if there were more? He had just sat through two painfully long alarms that managed to wake him up but not you, and then a third from downstairs. If he was going to leave you here, he might as well enjoy a moment of peace and quiet by turning off the rest. Chris went to unlock it and was met with the screen asking for a passcode with a set of numbers appearing, showing that he needed to input a six-digit code to get into your phone. He could have just taken your phone and turned them off as they went, but he knew that if you woke up and saw that your phone was gone, he would have to deal with the complaints about that. Maybe you’d accuse him of snooping, and if he could guess your passcode, he might do it just to see what his boy is up to.

He would have to figure out what the password is, though. Six digits… Chris took a moment to think about it before trying birthdays. Those were common, he used your birth year as his own passcode when you berated him for leaving it without one for the longest time. Maybe you used your own birthday as your password, but it wouldn’t prove to be that easy. The numbers appeared at the top of the screen as he entered them in and just as he finished putting them in, they shook from side to side in error, like the device was shaking its head at him for being so wrong. By nature, he immediately went to the next one in his mind—his. 061381, that was the passcode! He was shocked that you had been so subtly kind to him by making his birthday the password, you remembered.

The lock screen faded to the back as rows and rows of apps and folders cluttered and congregated in front of it. He snickered at some of the folder names being things like “dumb shit” and one folder simply named: “fuck.” His eyes landed on the clock app after a quick scan of your rough home screen—it was nothing like his, his remained the stock layout of all the apps that came with his phone, all still in their original spots with the varying addition of the few apps he needed like banking and the one for the video doorbell installed outside. Clicking on it, he saw you had alarms scheduled until eight in the morning, and it was only six. He turned the seven between now and then off and was ready to set your phone back down when a notification appeared at the top of the screen.

The icon had a little white bird, one of the social medias that Chris wasn’t too familiar with. He would have ignored it since you had already gotten a text from your friend asking about a homework assignment due later today and a notification from some mobile game that was begging you to come back and play it, and he didn’t pay any mind to those. But for this one, the headline grabbed his attention. The first of a bad storm, making this young guy smell my DAD FARTS.

Surely, he couldn’t be reading that right.

While the notification loitered at the top of the screen, Chris’ thumb moved up to it. He clicked it without a second thought, and it redirected him to the app it was sent by. The layout of the app wasn’t anything Chris knew his way around, but thankfully it took him directly to the page and not the home screen. There was only one thing he could do, and it was simple enough: scroll. At the very top was the video with the caption that drew his attention. Chris clicked on the thumbnail of the video, which showed a man squatting over another guy’s face who had an open mouth just below his hole. Chris would have been concerned about waking you up, but if you slept through your alarms, you wouldn’t wake up to a video where the only sound were farts and moans. The video picked up in the moment that the thumbnail showed, the dominant man lowered his ass onto the guys tongue and started farting. He was telling him all of these commanding things that Chris, even as your dad, would never say as a parent. Slowly, the dominant man started replacing his words with grunting and making a plethora of satisfied noises. The man under him was younger, his responses sounded higher pitched and more innocent as the older man’s ass let out farts that were as deep as his voice. The sheer power dynamic was something unlike he’d ever seen. Sure, he had seen his fair share of porn on VHS tapes, and saw guys dominating girls, but it was never to this degree. In his tight little boxers, his dick started to rise.

As he looked deeper into the page, it was clear. The entire page was full of posts about farting and other forms of ass worship, but the caption above each video had one common theme: they were all about dads dominating their sons. It was always a pair of thick cheeks swiping a smaller boy’s head between them. Each video had a caption lingering above it from the point of view of the son or the father, about not telling their mother or being glad that she left so this faux dad and his son could have uninterrupted bonding time. And you were into it, almost every video was liked and saved in some way as indicated by the illuminated heart and blue bookmark at the bottom of each video. His tent only got bigger, pushing the already-cramped pouch to it’s limit. The fly of his boxers held together with one button was parted to show his length underneath. If it weren’t for that button, his girth would have filled the entire space and possibly even slipped through the slit.

But as his dick sprung up, his brows furrowed. Why didn’t you ever tell him about this?

Sure, Chris blatantly fit your niche for sexual gratification but you didn’t want him. Your father. This was just a fantasy you had—probably one of many conjured in your horny head—and he wasn’t asking you to jerk off with him by any means, but just to be communicative. He would like to know the type of guys you’ll eventually bring home—or at the very least, he wanted to be able to give you the freedom to talk about a hot guy passing the two of you on the street. To say “he’s cute,” and your dad could agree. But where did the prospect of guys even come from? His son only ever talked to him about girls. Chris expressed that he would be more than happy to support his son if he was interested in anything other than that, but you insisted that girls were your only priority. But that was a few years ago… and any time he tried to pry and get you to open up to him about your crushes, you seemed avoidant of the topic. Avoidant of him for a reason that was slowly becoming more clear.

There was only one way to handle it. Face the problem head-on. If you weren’t going to open up then he would have to make the first move, even if it was unexpected and possibly unrequited on your part. You partially deserved it—well, mostly, but Chris loved you too much to actually hold you to your faults. He tried to see things in a good light; your alarms were waking him up earlier so that you could spend more time with him, your secrecy and privacy were something to ignore and push past like any good parent knows how to do. You were his perfect little boy who could do no wrong, so this wasn’t a punishment or a rude awakening like you had given him; it was a feast.

So, instead of a slap to the face to awaken you, he did something much more soft and caring. All of those videos he looked at, the so-called “Dad” of each would usually hover over the guy under him or outright sit on his face. To do that, he had to make sure you were on your back, which you already were, his hand gripped your chin and fixed your head turned off to the side, making it so that you were looking directly up to the ceiling. And lastly, he peeled back your sheets and crumpled them up on the opposite side of the bed from where he stood. To his surprise, you slept without anything on at all. The boy he had taught to wear jammies and set and example by wearing loose-hanging fleece pants and a tank top to bed every night had found it more comfortable to wear nothing. To be so vulnerable, it was another side of you that he had never seen.

Chris leaned down and placed his hand on your chest. It stayed there for a second, too stiff to move because if it does go anywhere, it will move down your medial and end up groping areas he wasn’t ready to touch. He let out a sigh and softly spoke to you, “Get up, champ. Come on.”

Chris wanted to you wake up in that moment with his voice, for his irrational parental decisions to be put to rest by you finally fluttering your pretty mother-like eyes open. His stomach started to swirl with anxiety. This wouldn’t mean anything, right? It was payback with a bit of pleasure. You got your mother’s eyes, the same ones Chris stared into and fell in love with. The same shade that leaned into her inherited features and gave him ‘fuck me’ eyes countless times, the same ones she bestowed to you. The ones he saw looking back at him when he looked at the best achievement in his life—his baby boy. But you were lazy, sleeping in, hardly being the boy your dad talked so highly of at family gatherings. You were barely the boy he recognized anymore… when did you start to act like this? What would he say to them now? Would he talk about how bad you were or about his own bad behavior? What if you told them all that he did, after he did this, and he lost you? Well, he better just enjoy you before you leave him anyways, whether that’s for college or another man.

For now, you couldn’t get away from him if he was holding you down. This was like a warm bear hug when your kid leaves for college, it’s like a hug after they get their license and nearly get hit for the first time and you’re less worried about the car and more worried about your bairn. Chris repeated every excuse he could think of and welcomed the new ones that entered the fray to justify what he was about to do. He could never admit that he liked what was going to happen next. No, the tent pitched in his boxers by his painfully hard dick—harder than it had ever been—was because of the porn, not because of his son. It couldn’t be.

Chris placed his bare foot on the edge of your bed, he then propelled himself up and was able to stand next to your sleeping figure with both feet. He had to hunch down a bit so that his head wouldn’t hit the ceiling. Then, he stepped over you so that his feet were on either side of you. His weight shifting on your bed and the creaking of your mattress frame still wasn’t enough to breech through whatever your sleepy head was dreaming about. He tried to align himself with his heel starting at about your shoulders and his big toe ending just shy of your elbow, his front half had the perfect outlook to your room from the highest possible angle. Everything you would never grow into could be seen from up there, including the dust on your ceiling fan.

His mind spiraled as it twisted. The Earth still lingered closely to the sun, so the warm days that were soon to turn cold still needed a reprieve. But both things still orbited around one perfect little center, and in this case, it was you. Chris planted his ass squarely over your face. At first, he hovered. Holding his breath while he felt yours hit against the back of his legs. Each soft breath… so carefree. In minutes, he’d have you fighting for the same air you were about to be cut off from. He hated to admit, even if it was just to himself, that the idea nearly made his boxers prematurely soaking wet.

Chris’ ass was big, and sealed off your face completely when he sat on you. He could feel how your face only impacted the space between his doughy cheeks, and he could feel the fat on his ass—one that’s all smackable plush with no tension to stop any ripples. He didn’t even have to wedge them apart with his hands for them to be wide enough! He fell into one of those “don’t look down” situations where, if he did see how he completely smothered his boy’s face with his ass, he probably would have shot up and made sure you were okay. But you wanted this, this force that he couldn’t give you in every day life. Why else would you turn to porn instead of your dad?

You woke up when the entire weight of your dad was resting on you. He made sure to not absolutely crush you—but who knows, maybe you would like that—since he was well built and covered a lot of your upper body with his thick thighs and ass alone. Now, parking it back on your face, he might actually suffocate you.

“Mmm,” you groaned, your body reflexively trying to stretch and turn the muscles that had been still for hours. In just a few brief seconds, it immediately knew what it was under—your dad’s full moon. “Dad?”

All of your noise was filtered through layers of fat, barely escaping around the mound on top of you. You were talking directly into his clothed ass, eyes staring up the run of his back. Chris could feel your hot saliva and breath already seeping through the fabric and to his skin. He shuddered, but remained cool. Chris reached down and palmed at his tented erection and pressed his other hand on your chest to shift his weight forward to his knees and the supporting hand. He slid that hand down your body and moved the rest of the covers out of the way that he had missed on his first go-around. He wanted to see you, imagining your legs kick while under him. While he was far from that point, you were already chubbing up. You were a bit smaller than your dad and his crown jewels—and he was being generous with ‘small’ because you’re his boy—but it was more reassuring for him because it meant that you were enjoying it.

He was wearing boxers. Something you hadn’t seen him do in a while. The last time you caught him this stripped down was about a month ago when he was preparing to take a shower and had to cross the hall in a pair of his briefs to grab the shampoo he left in his bag. You’re pretty sure he left it in his luggage after a work trip, but that quick glimpse was enough to stop you and your heart for a second as you were heading to your room. You picked up that he might just have been adding extra layers because you felt intimidated by him—by his muscles, his generally wide and commanding physique, and his voice and tone. Little does he know that you don’t want to become a man like him. You want a man like him, a man that makes you feel inferior to yourself.

“Sh-sh-sh,” he made the noise softly with his mouth. “Daddy’s here, and he’s got breakfast.”

Chris sat up straight again after leaning down to reveal your dick, putting all of his weight back on your face with his ass. As if on cue, he let out a relaxed sigh and the first of many farts sputtered out.

A muffled—but expected—protest squeaked out from under him, much quieter than his fart, “Dad!”

Your dad didn’t expect to feel his dick beading with pre-cum as soon as it had. Each moment his dick throbbed hard shifted it up in his boxers ever so slightly and caused the cum to smear against the fabric it was sheathed in. It didn’t help that he occasionally groped his tent, but he had to stop or else he would cum too soon. Hearing your voice from so far away, so devoid of the bratty pedestal you put yourself on, put your father on a power trip.

“Call it a truce. I accept you and you get a little slap on the wrist for making your daddy cranky.” Chris lifted himself up again, moving back this time so he was closer to your headboard. The hand palming his tent lightly smacked the side of your face that wasn’t covered by skin and blue fabric, and you could feel the gloppy pre-cum at the ends of his finger tips. He must have been aching under those boxers to the point that they were wet on the outside. While his tent hung over your face now that he had moved back, it didn’t stay like that for long. You got a break from smelling his farts to smell his equally intoxicating musk before being gassed up by his farts again just moments later.

“It stinks,” you whined underneath his hefty ass. Your hands could have worked their way up to push him off, but he would be too heavy. His ass would be too fat, easy to grab but too hard to hold.

“Good, I know you like it like that. When it’s all… in your face.” Maybe he should keep his dirty talk to the short side of things, but Chris was still learning. Another fart came rolling out that lasted well over ten seconds and made him sigh in relief. He accompanied it after with a stern, “Sniff it, boy."

The smell wafted up to Chris’ nose. You’re right—it stinks. The addition of coffee made his bowels usher out the stirrings of last night’s dinner even quicker. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone all in on a savory dinner last night, because each blast from his ass smelled like that dish left out in the sun for days.

Chris moved again—he couldn’t tell if it was because he couldn’t run the risk of actually hurting you or if he was almost too jittery from this newfound pleasure to know what to make of it. He went from sitting back to kneeling over your chest, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers clawing up the small of his back, desperate to not slip down and show his ass. Still not enough room for you to escape from under him, but you really didn’t want to, and Chris knew that. All of his clothes bore the burden of having to stretch themselves to fit around his fat cheeks. He gave his tenuously stretched boxers a break by pushing them down past his ass and to his thick thighs. It wasn’t so easy in the front, since he had to push his painfully stiff erection down with the waistband, keeping it that way until they went below his tip. It sprung up, and just the movement against the still air in the room was enough friction to put Chris over the edge. He left his boxers stretched out between his thighs, stretching them even more when he moved back in your direction.

“These are gonna be even worse, boy.” Chris teased. He sat back on your face again. The only difference is that the warmth of skin-to-skin contact was more noticeable. Your dad’s unwashed ass funk was more noticeable than it had been in boxers that mingled the appalling scent of ass sweat and musk with the floral detergent he used to launder the clothes. Your nose was positioned directly to his hole, and that reeked the worst. It smelled rancid and filled your lungs with rank gas, you could feel it quiver at the cold. The tight ring twitched and tightened—the clear sign that Chris was straining to push the next flurry of gas out.

You dreaded what his unfiltered farts would smell like when they didn’t have a thread count to work through. Each fart had no warning as they came out, like a gun that didn’t need to be cocked before firing. The blasts were rapid-fire, shot out with such force that it made it easier to sniff them up as they came out directly against your nose.

He was right this time; they were much worse without some kind of necessary passthrough. The intensity and delivery of them was stronger, thicker as your nose immediately felt the gas burn as it entered your body and traveled down to your nervous system. Each intake made your breathing feel raspy, making his longer farts hard to sniff up in one draw. You had to huff—Jesus, you had to pant—to really get the full effect of some of his farts.

Chris started to welcome a bit of movement into it, making it harder to sniff up all of his gas. Whenever Chris cause a waft of it, he’d move closer and grind harder on your face, but after a few consistent rips with no smell twinging his nose, he would go back to moving back and forth over your face. His hips would thrust forward before rocking back to your forehead, his ass being big enough to not miss a single spot of you.

He parked himself on different parts of your face; your nose when he had to fart, but when he was waiting for the next one to be ready to come out, he moved to your chin and mouth and ordered you to eat him out. He farted in your mouth a few times while you were tonguing his hole, but he laughed it off and just moaned at the feeling of your tongue recoil and mouth twitch in disgust before returning back to his hole. He didn’t really have to check up on your during this, because as long as you were doing what he said, it was enough of a sign to tell him to keep going.

Chris tried to actively avoid his cock during this. The thought running through his head that he was sitting on his son’s face, coupled with a few pumps, might make him cum in a second’s minute. Something told him though that the feeling alone would catch up to him sooner than later, and it did faster than he thought. He wanted to continue, to keep this going, but it wouldn’t be revolutionary if it didn’t break the expected rules. His whole outlook on his son and his sex life had just been changed over the better half of an hour, and this trajectory just felt right.

With a mix falling somewhere between a cry and a moan, Chris shot his load, thick ropes shooting down your torso and his thighs. Some of them nearly made it to your own cock, that’s how hard it made him cum. The occasional spurt landed on your bed in wry sprigs before the short-lived high started to fall, and soon, Chris was sitting on your face. No rhythm, no care, just focused on the post-orgasmic glow of how he felt. It was enough to make him forget that he was sitting on you, letting his full weight rest on you again despite your breathing slowing.

This was supposed to be a punishment, and at this very moment, he had gotten everything he wanted: relief on his day off, worked things out with his son, and he left you hanging when he got up off your face. Chris awkwardly got off of your bed, trying to not accidentally knee you in chest or fall over when he went to stand up, the boxers around his thighs making it a bit difficult to fully use his flexibility to help him. Your cock still stood in the swirl of sheets. He couldn’t deny that you looked so good laid out like that, ready for the taking. He wanted to do more, but it took years to raise you into the man you are. He would turn you into his slut if he hadn’t already, but today was the first step. Chris stepped out of his boxers, reaching down to pick them up and giving you a view of his fat ass. Now that he wasn’t telling you to not jerk off, your hand was already wrapping around your cock.

“I had a moment to think, and you can jerk off with these.” Chris turned and threw his boxers, they landed on your face and you got his with the immediately smell that had just left your nose. It wasn’t as strong, but it was enough. “Your daddy won’t do everything for you.”

And with that, he left the room to let you get to your business. You savored the fleeting sight of his ass as he walked out, shutting the door like you had always asked him to do whenever he barged in. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t have separate rooms for much longer, though. Waking up would be much easier in the future.

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kreayshawni · 5 months ago

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Asking a request for my irl husband!

Perhaps kissing headcanons for Jerry? If that’s already been done dating headcanons would also be so fun! People are always sleeping on Jerry he’s so fun and interesting!!

OFCC !! thanks for ur request! <3 i need more jerry askss ||ヽ(*￣▽￣*)ノミ|Ю

dating jerry would include...

he's the most hygienic and overall, kindest of them all.

he's very nervous around you, no matter your personality, he's just afraid he'll say the wrong thing and you'll slip away, so reassurance is very much needed

he remembers literally every little detail about you. or things you've said, just so he can mention something about your favorite game / show / movie, whatever, to get you to talk more

''wow yeah, how'd you know i liked that?''

''i heard you talk about it like 5 months ago''

he doesn't realize how odd he sounds.

he blindly supports you, like if you're talking shit and you start to backpedal thinking you were in the wrong, he'll just feed into your delusions and tell you, you were in the right

he could genuinely just stare at you for hours on end. and he'll still find something new about you.

he can't stop talking about you either, he will nonstop yap to his mother about you, or if you're in the club he'll constantly go on about how he misses you if you couldn't come to a campaign. everyone is SICK of him

he doesn't exactly use nicknames, besides babe, but he loves ''girlfriend, boyfriend, partner''. it's not like an actual nickname but he just likes referring to you as something that's his. like, ''my girlfriend's coming over today'' ''have u seen my boyfriend?'' ''my partner is so nice''

kisses are always gentle with him, he'll have one hand on the back of your neck to keep you close. his lips are surprisingly soft, but he's probably a lip-bitter / picker, so 💔💔 i feel like he'd like mint/peppermint flavored things, so he probably tastes like that with a blue cherry gatorade mix

he, unfortunately, doesn't defend you that much. you really have to force him to stand up

i feel like his sleep schedule is all over the place so if you're a night-owl, great!! remember the, ''the marathon men'' comic chapter ?? when josh's parents kicked them out, he definitely went to your house in a sleep-deprived daze, and immediately collapsed on your bed with a vomit-covered t-shirt on, and dry blood around his nose

out of everyone honestly you two would have a higher chance of getting married in the future

'' i write these stupid words, and i love every one ''

#the eltingville club #the eltingville club x reader #jerry stokes #jerry stokes x reader #welcome to eltingville #jerry eltingville #jerry the eltingville club x reader #mcbling

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sparklingblu · 11 months ago

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Metamorphosis

Sakura x Male Reader

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Something I cooked up while I get the urge to write. Enjoy.

It's not everyday you see an angel in the kitchen.

But today, that doesn't seem to be the case.

As you make your way down the staircase, your eyes still groggy with sleep, the pleasant aroma that greets you is more than enough to tell you that your wife, Sakura is up early.

She has always been an early bird while you are a night owl. Despite all the differences between you two, you are still surprised to this day how you two even managed to work it out after all those years. It's probably all beccause of Sakura, who has always been the more matured one in thisb relationship. Most of the time, she's the first one to raise the white flag whenever you two start bickering. Maybe that makes you a dick but she loves you all the same.

"There's some whores in this house

There's some whores in this house"

You crack a smile as soon as you hear the introduction to Cardi B's WAP. For someone who looks so pure, Sakura does have questionable music taste.

You slow your steps, not wanting to make any noise that would alert Sakura of your presence. Not like it matters anyway. The music has been turned up all the way on her phone that she wouldn't notice it even if someone breaks in at this moment. The growing smell of spice and pepper accompanied by the sizzling sound of the pan makes your stomach growl. But they can't be as disturbing as Sakura, who's swaying her cute ass in those tight black shorts. It's a miracle, really, how she manages to stay fit like a teenager after all those years. She looks no different from back you two started dating. Hotter, even.

You stand in the doorway for a while, savouring the moment while your eyes rake over Sakura's flawless body. You can already feel your mamba growing rigid from the sight and all the lewd thoughts you have in mere seconds. Visions where she's bent over the counter, your cock buried deep in her cunt, her lips slipping out the dirtiest and prettiest of moans. And the lyrics from the song are not helping.

"I said certified freak, seven days a week"

You would gladly go seven days a week, every hour, every minute with Sakura. It's not even a choice, to be honest. Because there's no better feeling than waking up with your cock sealed between those soft lips after making a mess of the bedroom after breeding her in every corner of the room last night. That was exactly what happened for the first few months after your marriage. You two were like animals in heat; ever so desperate for each other's bodies. There isn't a day that goes by without you storing a load or two in Sakura's depths.

Nowadays, not so much. Both of you are tok busy with work and responsibilities for that kind of activity. There's still the sex but most of the time, it's just you lazily thrusting into Sakura in a spooning position because both of you are too tired for more vigorous activities. Sometimes, Sakura would blow you under the desk while you are working on your laptop but that only happens when she feels like sucking your cock and that doesn't happen so often.

You slowly close your distance to Sakura, steps light as a panther. Sakura is still as oblivious as ever, quietly humming one of the dirtiest songs of the century; sinful words spilling from an angel's tongue. A few more steps and you are close enough that you can smell the shampoo off Sakura's hair. Your hand instinctively move towards her restless ass, grabbing a cheek and squeezing it over the dark fabric.

"Nghh"

Sakura yelps, caught off-guard. Her spatula hits the pan with a loud 'clank'. Her face is stoic for a while, those cat-like eyes out of focus. Then she turns her head and breaks into a smile as she catches the culprit.

"That's quite a way to say good morning"

She teases as she lowers the volume on her phone. Still, it's loud enough to hear all the lyrics riling you up.

"Well, I can't resist"

"You can't resist this cute ass, can you?" She wriggles her ass to elaborate the question farther.

"Do you even need to ask?" You asks, rumming your hands over her side; your fingers tracing patterns across the shirt which does little to hide her curves.

"You are being too cheesy today. It's getting suspicious" She accuses you as she gets back to work again, stirring the rice in the pan with the spatula.

You lean in, brushing your lips across the nape of her neck. A faint smell of sweat mixed with that of the delicacy Sakura's cooking up tickle your nostrils - one smell no less appealing than the other. You linger there for a moment, planting a few more kisses on her neck before moving on to your main task.

"Put this pussy right in yo' face

Swipe your nose like a credit card"

What a coincudence. That's what you are exactly gonna do. Before she knows what's happening, your thumbs have slide under the waistband of her shorts and lowering them. The material slides gracefully down to her hips then to her thighs - giving you the best view of her toned white ass.

"Wait, I'm cooking! Let me finish- Mmmph.."

Sakura's protests are silenced as you bury your tongue in her pink wet pussy, spreading her cheeks open with your hand. You feed like a sailor lost at sea, tongue swiping across the soft flesh rapidly. It has been too long since you last give her a tongue bath but as soon as you get the taste of her wet hole, it's not difficult to decipher the old memories of her favorite spots to be attacked.

The tip of your tongue makes contact with her clit and Sakura lets out a guttural moan followed by a series of curses. Each dirty word encourages your relentless pace - imprinting this taste that's finer than any wine deep into your brain.

"Fuck. Don't stop"

Even if she says otherwise, you wouldn't have. You are too lost in the pleasure that comes from pleasuring Sakura. Each jolt and writhe of her legs a reminder of your sucessful service.

Sakura has forgotten about cooking now, her fingers gripping the kitchen counter as she braces herself against the waves of pleasure that rolls over her with every single movement of your tongue.

"Spit in my mouth, look at my eyes

This pussy is wet, come take a dive"

Sakura proves true to the lyrics. Her pussy is now gleaming with her own juice and all your saliva - wet and sticky in the tastiest way. You wanna reach for new heights but the current postion is not allowing to do so. You abruptly stops moving your tongue.

"What-"

"Turn around"

You order and Skaura obeys without question. She leans against the counter with curious eyes while you pull off the short off her legs. As soon as there's no barrier between you and the prize between Sakura's legs, you dive in again.

"Ohhhhh Fuck"

Nothing could have prepared Sakura for your next phase of attack. You keep a strong hold on her thighs while your tongue make its way into the pink folds of hers once again. If you were relentless before, now you are a beast. With almost inhuman speed, your tongue bathes the deepest parts of her hole. Sakura's legs are trembling nonstop now that your grip on them starts to falter. But it doesn't matter any more because Sakura's a step away from toppling over the edge.

"I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cummmm"

Sakura repeat the words like a mantra until she's squirting a waterfall into your mouth and all over your face. And you gladly bath in the crystal clear liquid. Sakura shoves two fingers into her poruing hole, furiously fingering herself to prolong the pleasure.

"Talk yo' shit, bite your lip

Ask for a car while you ride that dick"

With that, A weak jet erupts once more and the act concludes just as you are drenched. The kitchen floor is no different either; another task added to Sakura's long list of housework.

Sakura's breath is shallow as she recovers from the onslaught of your tongue. Her temples are beaded with sweat, her lips slightly parted as she pants. She throws her head back, closing her eyes to comprehend everything that just happened before opening them again to greet you with a grin.

"Seems like you still haven't lost your skills"

Sakura praises you as you get back on your feet while you wipe the rest of Sakura's juice off your lips.

You didn't have any time to rest because Sakura is already pulling you in for a kiss, her arms wrapped around your neck. Her tongue invades your mouth, seeking entrance to taste herself off your mouth. You glady reciprocates the action by tangling your own tongue with hers - a tango of flesh. You wouldn't have stopped if it's not for Sakura, who breaks the kiss and her eyes fall on you with a look you know too well - the look of a cockhungry housewife.

"Let me repay you, babe" No longer has those words left her mouth than she gets on her knees, looking up you like a kid asking for candy. "You know what to do"

And of course, you do. Anyone in your position would have no problems reading the need in Sakura's eyes; the need for your cock. You quickly pull down your boxers; heartstrings thrumming with anticipation. Your rock hard dick springs up as soon as it is released from the confine of clothing. Sakura stares at your veiny shaft for a moment and her lips curl into a sultry smile.

"Look, I need a hard hitter, I need a deep stroke

I need a Henny drink, I need a weed smoker"

Sakura's fingers close around the base of your shaft, slowly moving her grip all the way to the top before going back down in the first of many strokes to come. You groan from the electrifying feeling that blooms from your chest. You just realize how agonizingly hard you were all this time.

"Your cock is so beautiful" Sakura gives you a few more pump, her pupils fixed on your mamba like something she solely worships. "I wonder what it tastes like"

That's a lie. Of course, she knows how it tastes like. You have lost count of the number of times Sakura has woken you up with your cock stuffed in her warm, wet mouth. Matter of fact, she's the only one who knows what it tastes like. Nonetheless, you play along.

"Why don't you go ahead and find out?" You urges, trying not to sound desperate.

"That's the plan" Sakura draws one long stroke and in the blink of an eyes, swallows the head of your cock in one swift motion.

"Fuck Sakura. I miss this" You sound so desperate you feel embarassed. But you couldn't care less. All it matters is those soft lips clinging on your shaft.

"Mmhmm" Sakura responses in a moan that vibrates through your core. Her tongue slips out in an attempt to tease your slit before pulling back at the last moments, denying you the bliss.

"Sakura. Don't tease" You say. No, you plead. A raw animalistic hunger have been ignited within you that only Sakura can suffice.

She pulls back with a 'pop', freeing your cock from the warmth of her oral hole. She runs a thumb undee your head, which is now wet with her drool.

"Well, come and claim your prize"

It's not a term you are unfamiliar with and you instantly understand her words. Sakura doesn't feel like pleasuring you today. She wants you to use her to pleasure yourself. She wants you to fuck her face.

"Kinky today, aren't we?"

Sakura is spared no time to answer as your cock instantly penetrates her rosy lips back into her mouth. Your hand naturally tie her raven locks into a makeshift ponytail to aid your actions. Slowly, you push in. More than half of your length have disappeared into her wet hole before Sakura gags.

"Fuck. I'm fine. Just haven't done it for a while. Try again"

Sakura says between coughs after you have pulled your cock out from her mouth.

Once again, you line your cock with her lips and push in, a bit more forcefully this time. The head disappears then half of the length. Another inch follows and soon you have your whole cock buried deep in Sakura's throat. As you press her nose to your pelvis, you are washed over by a wave of pure ecstasy that rival no others. And it gets even better when Sakura looks up with those watery eyes, her mouth stuff full of your cock.

You are too impatient to savour the moment. A tight grip on her hair once again and you start bucking your hips. Sakura stays there, letting you stuff her mouth with your meat pole as symphonies of gags and chokes escape her throat.

"I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp

I wanna gag, I wanna choke"

There's no song better suited for the ocassion. It's as if Sakura is expressing the lyrics through her own actions. And she makes a damn good actress.

The saliva spill, making a wet mess that clings on her shirt, which has now turned transparent, as you let the nerve wrecking feeling of Sakura's tight throat gudies your movement. It's an unending cycle of lust and filth - each thrust making you crave for another. Because no one can take your cock like Sakura. And it's proven in the way she effortlessly lets it fuck her throat.

Sakura have always been the vanilla kind when it comes to sex. She prefers the slwo sensual ones that involves a lot of lip and tongue action. You have to be the one to initiate all the wilder options. Let her ride you and soon, she will be bending over, her lips pressed on yours while her other lips make their slow descend and ascend on your shaft.

Not that you balme her. You get to fuck her all the same. But you can't help but wonder if Sakura have been hiding this new face of hers all along after seeing the sudden change.

It's all in her eyes. The way she seems to be begging you to show no mercy through those spilling pearly tears. She's the one being used but you almost feel like it's quite the opposite.

Sakura doesn't yield and gag reflex seems to be an unfamiliar word to her. The piston of your hips do nothing to break the smoldering eye contact and her throat that happily welcomes each and every one of your thrusts.

Once more, you cut off Sakura's air supply - your hands keeping a tight grip on her head as you bury your cock to the hilt in her inviting throat again. You hold the position, all too aware of the addicting feeling her tight throat. It's the way its warmth engulfs you. Its lethal grip. The gags that come out muffled.

You feel the end already approaching. Your cock is already throbbing dangerously, wanting nothing more than to spill all that protein rich cum down her throat. But that's not gonna happen today. Your load needs to be stored somewhere else.

You barely manage to pull out your cock before it explodes. Sakura lets out a loud gag as globs of saliva pours like a waterfall. The floor is now coated with mixture of her juice and drool. And there couldn't be a prettier sight.

"Haa...haa....fuck, that was good"

The woman whom you just used like a sextoy isn't your wife. She's not an angel today. Maybe it has been that way all this time. Maybe you have been too naive to see through that mask of hers. She's a devil in disguise. Or something worse. And hotter.

"Are you gonna pound me over the counter or what?"

Sakura is on her feet once again. Her shirt no longer serving its purpose as it's now completely transparent from all her gag induced drool. You can get a clear view of those perky nipples that are the tastiest things in the world.

"That's the plan"

You answer.

"Good"

Sakura turns, bending over the counter to brace the oncoming onslaught of your cock. Her pussy is still dripping despite the tonguebath you gave earlier. This woman is insatisable.

"What are you waiting for?"

The arch of her back and those white cheeks almost glowing in the morning sun becomes too hard to resist. You take your righteous position behind her before lining your tip with her slick folds. There's no need for foreplay. Her hole is already lubed up well enough with her own juice. You take a breath, then penetrates.

Sakura mewls as your cock ease its way inch by inch into her tight cavern. Her walls clench on the foreign object that enters that's not too foreign with the amount of times it has made the same entrance. They grip you tight, almost like a virgin's. You expect Sakura's holes to be molded to your shape after all those relentless poundings but they are still as stubborn as ever.

"Fuck, that cock is filling me up so well"

You pull back and push in. The walls part easier this time as if they recognize your cock now. Not bragging but you take pride in the size of your 8 incher cock. And Sakura's the only one you can brag it to. So you would make the most out of it.

Your fingers that press on the sides of her waist keep her in place as you pick up the pace. Each thrust opens more room in Sakura's wet hole, giving you an easier trip. In no time, you are given free rein. Your shaft slips and enters Sakura with no more trouble, which is a clear signal for you to start breeding her.

"Yesss. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me"

There's nothing stopping you at this point. The sinful sound of flesh against flesh echoes in the kitchen as your pelvis meets Sakura's cheeks rapidly. The way they jiggle each time you make contact fuels the fire within you that's already at its peak temperature.

For the time being, only you and Sakura exist. Nothing can disturb you from the animalistic sounds Sakura's making as she feels your cock stretching her out. She moans and mewls and begs and curses. All these actions a clear reminder that you are doing all the right things to leave her a writhing, boneless mess after you are done.

"Oh god.....it's getting even bigger inside me"

Sakura might be no stranger to your cock that won't stop until it has filled her up to the brim but she's only human. Her legs threaten to give out from the intensity of your thrusts. Her fingers not so strong enough to keep their grip on the counter.

"What-"

Sakura protests as your cock exits her but her surpirse doesn't last long. A grunt escapes her lips as your shaft reenters her with a force so great it finally takes away the last of her breath.

Her fingers give out and her face hangs on the edge of the counter as her arms droop lazily. Her legs are not so different, which are now trembling like crazy. Sakura makes a sound somewhat like a growl and soon, she's creaming all over your cock again.

You pull out your shaft to let the waterfall of her squirt pour freely onto the kitchen floor which can't get any dirtier. Your hand meets her supple cheeks in a loud clap and her hole squirts out even more juice. You repeat the action until her white flesh has been rendered red and her pussy is clenching onto nothing.

"Big D stand for big demeanor

I could make ya bust before I ever meet ya"

You surely make Sakura bust but that's far from the conclusion. You have given Sakura relief and now she's gonna repay the debt.

"Wait- I'm still sensitive. Don't-"

You won't listen to her complaints. Your dick is throbbing and it needs to be buried in her deepest depths. And you give in to its cravings.

Sakura has been silenced. Her vocal chords already fail her. There's nothing she can do to stop you from using her spent hole for your pleasure. So she just lays there like a broken doll and lets herself be bred.

Her walls have become so slit with all the juice that you don't even feel the friction anymore. Pounding her becomes the easiest task in the world. Your cock have stretched her out in every possible direction. There's nothing more to be done except use her newly curved pussy.

You must have done such a good job because Sakura's pussy have solely become the perfect tool for your pleasure. It grips and hugs your cock in all the best ways as you chase your high.

"Now from the top, make it drop, that's some wet ass pussy

Now get a bucket and a mop, that's some wet ass pussy"

More than a bucket and a mop would be needed to clean up the mess Sakura have made. And soon, you are gonna make the task even more tedioua by adding your cum to the mixture. Sakura's body gives a slight jolt as your thrusts turn ferral. Your cock is throbbing, aching for release. Wet, filthy squelches fill the room from top to bottom. You are so close. A thrust. Some more. And then-

You are spilling everything you have into Sakura's cunt. All the hot, thick, gooey cum in your balls are being pumped into Sakura at full force. The relief follows sooner. Spurts after spurts ejected into her until there's no more left and you are left feeling like you have run a marathon.

All your fertile fluid spills out from her used hole as you pull out. Even in her broken state, Sakura's pussy is still pulsing like it wants more. You admire your handiwork. The broken doll you have made, which is Sakura; with your cum dripling steadily out of her hole, face down and ass up.

"Good morning to you too"

On the table, along with the burnt breakfast, the theme song of your morning session is coming to an end.

"There's some whores in this house

There's some whores in this house"

And there surely was a whore in this house this morning.

#kpop smut #sakura smut #lesserafim smut #male reader

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chanranghaeys · 5 months ago

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☀️ the boy who was the sun

How fitting that you meet him once again under a sky that casts a million colors, the same way that your life turned into a million colors all at once from the moment you first met him?

pairing: lee seokmin x gn!reader word count: 1.6k+ genre: angst to comfort to fluff rating: g tags: exes to second-chance lovers, implied breakup off the page, dk is like the sun :(, sunsets are also beginnings warnings: mentions of family and career pressure

a/n: this is completely inspired by @svtreverie and her words, in turn inspired by hozier’s “shrike,” so in turn i have lifted some passages from you and your brain. i love you, c. please note that i started this in april 2024 because of you, and i finally have the chance to finish it now. i dedicate this to you. dedications also to fellow cuties g @tusswrites and @miniseokminnies bc i can hehe. happy dokyeom day! ☀️

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The sunset came upon you suddenly as you turned the corner, the sun coming out from behind the buildings that shielded its setting rays. You always thought that the sun shined brighter when it set, as sunrises were always softer. Besides, you never really caught the rising of the sun as a self-professed night owl, waking up when it was already high above the world at its peak.

It was the peak of the golden hour. Today, it was a hazy rose gold mixed with pinks and purples that were still warm with the glow of day. You preferred sunsets this way, calmer and less harsh than the torrid streaks of red, yellow, and orange. You wondered what was so special about the past few hours for your eyes to be blessed with this sight.

You didn’t frequent this city often, but that has changed recently. In past years, you used to come here as a young adult starting out in the corporate life. You would wait for your father to fetch you after work so you could come home to a house that lacked a certain warmth, a warmth that you have only felt in numbered moments—memories that were branded in your mind, with some that you’d rather forget.

But time has changed you, and you now shadow your father’s footsteps as next in line to his company. It took a while for you to—as your parents put it—“come to your senses,” but fate had you surrender to it. Your feet moved on impulse as you followed your father’s footsteps, denying that it was against your will.

Besides, did you really have a choice in the matter? In the end, nothing did, anyway.

Today you were alone, and the end of the work day allowed you to finally take a deep breath in this corner green of the bustling business district. Some voice in your head told you to take a walk rather than book a car to take you straight home to the solace of your room in the cover of night.

Maybe subconsciously, you were also looking for the motion of your feet in a place separated from the confines of your comfort zone. Just for today.

The park was busier than usual, with more people both strolling and rushing on opposite sides of intersecting paths. Thankfully, you found solace in the anonymity that the crowd provided you; The joggers in their pace, the kids blowing bubbles at their parents’ faces, the dog walkers and cat lovers, the cliques that perched on their picnic blankets—no one knew who you were, the heir to one of the country’s largest conglomerates. A title whose weight you wish was never hung on your shoulders.

You looked up at the sky once more, savoring the brief moment that nature’s canvas was showing everyone before it was swallowed by the inevitable dark. Phones were raised and camera lenses pointed at the stunning scene in an attempt to capture the fleeting phenomenon. You decide to do the same.

You snap the sky at every angle, finding the best one you can while turning around in place. You realize that you must’ve looked so silly doing so, but again, no one knew who you were anyway. Just when you thought you were satisfied, you raise your phone once more for one final photo. You look at the screen and through the lens of your phone camera, you see him.

Wait a minute. You shake your head and lower your phone to look at the person with your own eyes, making sure that they aren’t deceiving you. They weren’t.

He was in front of you, a few meters away. He was transfixed by the colors above him, doing the exact same thing you were doing just moments ago—but you knew even until now that he’d work harder for the photo. He wasn’t using a phone, but his trusty mirrorless camera snapping away at the sky. He lowers the camera to eye level, capturing the chaos through his lens of calm.

His lens traveled, looking for the next subject to immortalize in a photo. Before you knew it, the lens was aimed right at you.

He froze.

You could just imagine the thoughts going through his head as he lowered his camera. You didn’t care if you were standing in the way because you couldn’t see anyone but him.

Him. The boy who was the sun—your sun. The boy whose light was so bright that it was blinding that it always hurt, but in a good way.

The boy whose light was so bright and blinding, that in the end it just hurt.

Instinct took over. And while it hurt your heart to do it again, you looked down and turned around, away from the only source of light to ever grace your life.

Because you could not do it any longer.

You could not burden him with pressures that were beyond his control. You could not bring him back into a world where the only words for him were, "You don't belong." You could not let him back into the darkness you have made for yourself. You could not protect him from yourself if he reenters the tall walls you have built around you.

In the corner of your eye, you see him start to move, and you begin walking as quick as you can. Your mind started to fill with thoughts you worked so hard to push away—thoughts, memories, unspoken words, and everything else that was for him and no one else.

You refuse to believe the heavy footsteps growing louder as they neared you. You refuse to believe that he would actually still reach for you after the way you pushed him away all those years ago. And even when you felt the grip of a hand on yours, you still refused to believe that it was his fingers and his palms that caught your wrist, how naturally it fit, closing around it as if was a sheath to your sharp edges.

You hear it—your name from his voice, so indelible in your mind, for all its lilts and tones when he both spoke and sang. His voice, that you have not heard in five years, immediately brought you back to the day you first met and all the days since then.

His voice that, in one second, immediately broke down the walls that you put up around yourself since that last day.

You find your voice, surprising yourself that you did. “Seokmin. Hi.” You were breathless, and your voice showed it.

“Hi.” He replied, and he smiled, the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen, breaking out from his face, one that could not hide the pure emotion. “I’m so happy to see you here.”

Before you could register what happened, you found yourself replying involuntarily, “Me too.”

And with that simple statement, something shifted in you.

Five years have changed you, there’s no doubt about that. And in those five years, you’ve come to terms with the painful truth behind why you let him go, with the question of “Why?” still haunting your every moment of regret.

On the worst nights, you find yourself wrapped in the jacket he put around your shoulders for the last time, right before you parted. The one that granted you his faithfully unfailing warmth in the cold, grateful it was there to catch your tears.

On the best days, you absentmindedly hum the tune from the LUCY song he said was his favorite, the one that you came to love just as much as he did. Whether you knew it or not, he was still in everything you did.

Because one thing you knew and you were sure of—you loved him, with every piece and fiber within you. You loved him hard, too hard, so much so to the point that you had no choice but to let him go.

Yet here you are, with the life-shattering realization that you still love him, titles and labels and families and the whole world be damned, because the man standing in front of you was the same man who still had his heart on his sleeve. You could see it in his smile.

How fitting that you meet him once again under a sky that casts a million colors, the same way that your life turned into a million colors all at once from the moment you first met him?

In the midst of the crowd and the afterglow of the sunset, in a place where you could trust to remain unseen and unknown, you find once again the only person who was and is still the light in your darkest days. How could you have ever denied this plain and simple truth?

It was with his smile that you felt it again—it was so bright that it was blinding, and an ache in your heart spasmed at the warmth that spread from it. It hurt, as it always did these past years, but now…it was in a good way again.

The setting sun gave way to the dusk. Artificial light replaced the natural glow of the day to keep the surroundings lit. But underneath its canopy, you couldn’t help the light blooming again from within you, slowly making its way to the smile that formed on your lips.

With the glimmer of this newfound light, you resolve to fight every single instinct within you—to walk away, to move your feet in the opposite direction, to run from the feelings that you have always avoided.

You start small, with one, two steps towards him. You could whisper, and he would hear it because he knew that as long as it came from you, it didn’t need to be shouted. He knew that you’d fly like a bird to him now if you could.

Because nothing else but your truth can illuminate the path ahead of you. And your truth was standing right in front of you.

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tragedy-of-commons · 5 months ago

Note

HI GWENNIE !!! here for the event hehe

may i req honeysuckle + ebullience + serendipity for dan heng? 🤍

HONEYSUCKLE: they’re making it a point to show you just how much you mean to them.

ebullience — a boiling or bubbling up; (figuratively) the quality of enthusiastic or lively expression of feelings and thoughts.

serendipity — a combination of events which have come together by chance to make a surprisingly good or wonderful outcome.

modern au but it's not obvious, fluff and mush, dan heng is whipped, so is reader, kinda fits the dahlia prompt better but shhh

“It’s fine. We don’t have to go.”

In response to Dan Heng’s reassurance, you snap your neck around to face him like an affronted owl. By the expression quickly making its way onto his countenance, he seems to regret ever speaking up, his brow pinched together in contrition and his fingers twitching as if to physically take the statement back.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” you scoff, voice light. “You went out of your way to make dinner reservations on the most romantic day of the year, months in advance. Cancelling is out of the question. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You must remain resolute. Today is Valentine’s Day, and after all of the cursory couple activities that you’ve dragged your boyfriend to, you’re more than worn out. Normally you’d be bouncing off the wall in excitement at the prospect of dinner - food is the best - and you rarely go out with Dan Heng as it is! However, it’s apparent you’ve already expended all of your daily stamina.

You can’t shirk his thoughtful gesture just because you’re tired! And you’ve told him as much, which is why you’re both here, lingering near the front door in reluctant date attire.

“It’s not entirely about me,” he tells you, watching with crystalline discontent as you stalk over to him. You fidget with the silver necklace resting over his shirt while he continues. “And to be transparent, I’m not exactly looking forward to it either. I made the reservations because I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“I do appreciate it! I love restaurants…” you lament. Dan Heng sighs, breath ghosting your face.

He’s really close now, and it makes you feel even worse about not feeling your best. You decide to cup his cheek in your palm while he leans into your touch, even if he’s normally embarrassed to accept such things from you. At least you’re in private.

“But you’re exhausted. I’m exhausted. These circumstances are less than ideal.”

His reasoning is sound, and you groan, perching your chin on his shoulder, melding chest to chest with him. However, you make no move to embrace your partner, instead letting your arms hang loosely by your sides like a dejected ragdoll.

“Yeah… but I don’t want to waste the night.”

“Maybe we don’t have to.”

You blink, pulling back to level with him. “I’m listening.”

And to your surprise, Dan Heng leads you outside anyway. If you’re not going to the restaurant, then pray tell, where the hell are you going? The streets aren’t pitch black just yet - you have the periodic lampposts and sinking sun to thank for that - but you’re still perplexed. You wave to one of your neighbors as you pass his house, a very friendly old man that, earlier in the day, was giving out free bouquets to any passing couples. You remember shoving a bundle of tulips in Dan Heng’s arms while he held back an earth-shattering sneeze.

Man, you are tired. You’re not even energized enough to break from your boyfriend’s side and start up a thirty minute chat about life as humanity knows it with the neighbor! What is the world coming to? Terrible, awful, no good.

“Aren’t you going to tell me where we’re going?” you yawn.

“...No.”

“Really? ‘Cause you sound dangerously close to cracking.”

He pulls a face at you. You’ve learned that Dan Heng is good at keeping secrets - especially his own - but he’s a horrible liar. One time he was attempting to fib to you about what his plans were for your shared anniversary (he had none, he’d claimed), but his ears were tipped an endearing, entirely telling red.

Also, it’s like his tongue sometimes fistfights his brain. The man you’re in love with doesn’t stutter or trip over his words very often, but he can get hesitant and lock up for an indefinite period of time. So you’re really excited - despite your low battery - that he’s going to surprise you. You know he can do it!

Dan Heng doesn’t have to reply. The conversation has lulled into a comfortable silence, anyway; the kind of quiet that really brings out the love you harbor for one another. If you were side-by-side with anyone else, walking to some unknown destination, you’d force a cheerful smile on your face, and perhaps a bizarre non sequitur out of your mouth, desperate to keep up the banter.

But with him, you don’t have to. You can be tired all you want without fear of being pestered by well-meaning questions or concerned glances. And Dan Heng, in turn, can say everything without saying anything.

It’s truly bliss, this life.

“We’re almost there,” he remarks, taking an abrupt right turn. You only stop for a moment before doubling your pace to catch up, the brisk temperature coaxing you forward. “Sorry for the walk.”

You snort. “If you’re sorry, then I must be doing something wrong.”

You can’t say you’ve ever been this way. Groceries, work, leisure - it’s all reached by taking a left, not this fantastical right. But you’re not complaining! It’s nice out, golden hour is dwindling, and all of the possible yet abundant circumstances that’ve led you to this very moment drift by in your mind like shooting stars.

Dan Heng halts in front of what seems to be a small park. It’s contained by a chain link fence, boasts a couple of tall oaks, and is connected by a bunch of sprawling concrete paths.

You deflate.

He turns to gaze at you, taking note of your indifference. The sky is now briefly turning a magenta color in anticipation of total sunset, bathing him in a mild warmth that will soon give way to cool in a matter of minutes. It wholly suits him.

“Is something wrong? We can go home.”

“No, idiot,” you laugh, limply shooting your arms out and gesturing to the grassy landscape, “It’s perfect. I didn’t even know we had a park in this neighborhood. How long have you been keeping this place a secret?”

Dan Heng lets you link pinkies with him as you begin the (not so perilous) journey through the green. It’s nothing like how dinner would’ve been - no clinking glasses or endless noise. It’s so peaceful.

“Not a secret,” he sighs, “but on one of my walks I discovered the area. I was waiting for an opportunity to share it with you, believe it or not. Tonight fits the bill well.”

You hum in response, falling back into silence. The cue is understood and honored without a beat skipped, as it often goes. For the next hour or so, you stroll through the park with your other half. Nighttime descends and quickly shadows all the tempting wildflowers you’d normally pluck from the ground and take home, but you find yourself content.

I love you, your hand says as it engulfs Dan Heng’s.

I love you too, his replies ardently as it squeezes back.

event post here. network members only!

#hvntersloveletters #—stellaronhvnters.#g.writes #dan heng x reader #dan heng hsr x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #hsr x you #dan heng x gn!reader

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startanewdream · 6 months ago

Note

Why would I think you're weak? Everyone gets nightmares."

For hinny, preferably Ginny is the one with the nightmare

Please and thank you

hope you enjoy this sort-of missing moment that could have been:

*******

Harry walked absently to the Room of Requirement. It was still early, but he enjoyed arranging the room ahead of the D.A. lesson; for today, their first real class about the Patronus Charm, he had the idea of filling the room with mirrors so people could look at themselves while they worked the spell. As he reached the usual entrance to the Room, however, he realized he wasn’t the only one who had started early.

The door was already there, even before he asked for it.

He entered carefully, just in case someone had inadvertently found out about Dumbledore’s Army. The room seemed empty — until he noticed a figure in the farthest corner. For a moment, his stomach dropped, remembering the last time he had been there alone with someone — he and Cho weren’t really speaking these days, avoiding each other’s gaze after the disastrous Valentine’s Day date —, but the sight of vivid red hair told him it was someone else.

Ginny hadn’t seen him. She was facing the warm fireplace that was always lit, mumbling to herself. Her eyes narrowed in a fierce expression as she moved her wand; nothing happened, and she sighed unhappily, stooping her feet and looking up to the ceiling—now enchanted, like the Great Hall, to reveal the day sky above.

Harry caught himself staring at her; it wasn’t the first time he’d done so, not with him teaching the D.A. Ginny’s spellwork had always impressed him; he remembered George once telling him that size was no guarantee of power when talking about Ginny, and though Harry hadn’t witnessed her famous Bat Bogey Hex yet, he could see what George had meant. Ginny had a strong raw power; even though she was still in her Fourth Year, she’d had no problem mastering any OWL-level spell Harry had shown the class. He would often compare her with her boyfriend, her usual duelling partner, and more than once Harry had thought she deserved someone better—he hadn’t said it out loud, but Michael Corner had looked quite bland—

“Ow!”

Ginny’s voice startled Harry. For a crazy moment, he’d thought she’d read his mind and was mad at him—then he realised she looked sheepish.

“Sorry, I thought I was alone.”

Harry shook his head. “You were, I just came in. Are you practising?”

Ginny flushed as she nodded; it suddenly occurred to Harry that it had been a while since he’d seen that. It was weird seeing her looking flustered when she had been nothing but bright around him.

“You know, I appreciate the effort, but I cannot give you house points.”

As he had a feeling she would, Ginny chuckled.

“Prat,” she called without any malice. “Sorry, I meant Professor Prat.”

Harry smiled. “Much better.” Then he tilted his head. “What were you doing? You didn’t have any problem with the Shield Spell last class.”

“Ah.” She bit her lip. Harry had a sudden urge to ask her to stop it before she drew blood. “The Patronus Charm.”

That made him blink, suddenly aware he had been looking at her mouth.

“Patronus?” He repeated, startled. “We are just getting started.”

“Yeah, but…” Ginny took a deep breath. “It annoyed me that I couldn’t cast it.”

“It was just our first lesson—I mean, not even a lesson, it was just a lecture.”

It had been the final part of the last D.A. lesson, last week. Satisfied that everyone seemed to have mastered the Shield Spell, Harry had started the Patronus Charm, the one spell everyone was excited about. He hadn’t much time, so he’d decided to explain the theory behind the charm — the first time he’d talked more than show any spell, and rather than seem annoyed, everyone had eagerly listened to him. He had given everyone some sort of homework — to think about their happiest memory — and, in the last five minutes of the lesson, he’d let everyone try the Patronus Charm for the first time.

A few people had managed a silvery wisp, nothing resembling any shape or that lasted more than two seconds.

“Every time I try, nothing happens.”

“I don’t think anyone can cast it in their first attempt,” Harry said. When Ginny raised her eyebrows, he added, “I didn’t.”

“How many lessons did it take you?”

“A lot,” he answered truthfully.

Her expression didn’t change. “You were thirteen when you first learnt it.”

“And I had Professor Lupin giving me private lessons. All you got… is me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are an amazing teacher.”

“I think you are comparing me to Umbridge, so—”

“Stop it.” She patted his arm playfully; her hand was warm. “You know you are a decent teacher, come on.”

“I noticed the downgrade from amazing to decent.”

A grin appeared in her lips as if she couldn’t help herself; Harry smiled in answer. He enjoyed her reaction.

“See, that’s better—you cannot try the Patronus Charm if you are all gloomy.”

“I wasn’t gloomy.”

“You were stomping your feet.”

“Maybe I had an itch.”

“Did you?”

“No,” Ginny admitted, and then she threw herself on one big bean couch that had just appeared behind her. “I’m really frustrated.”

Harry gave her a bracing smile as he sank on the couch next to her. “It was just your first try.”

“I got every other spell. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but something happened.” She waved her wand absently, not seeming to notice the sparkling dust that she was casting. “Now I could yell Expecto Patronum until I lost my voice and this wand wouldn’t be more useful than a random stick.”

“I get it,” he said bracingly. “I was disappointed with myself when it didn’t improve the way I wanted—but there is no secret, you just need to keep trying.”

“It is as if I can’t get it right—every spell I try, even when I don’t cast it, I can feel it, the connection between me and my wand. But the Patronus just eludes me.”

“What memory are you using?” Harry asked before he could think it through. He smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, I know it’s personal.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not working anyway, so—” Ginny shrugged. “I thought about when I got my Hogwarts letter. I dreamed of it since I was two—” She caught sight of Harry’s face. “What?”

“That’s what I remembered the first time I managed something. It was just this silver shadow, but—”

“But it was a start.” Ginny sighed. “I’m not even hoping for a full corporeal Patronus, just one that gets the dementors far away from me.”

She shivered, her face whitening so much that Harry felt he could count the freckles on her cheek.

For a moment that distracted him, until a long-distant memory resurfaced. He was thirteen and recovering after meeting a dementor for the first time; he’d just fainted, but the worst part had been hearing a woman’s scream. He hadn’t been in the best condition, so he hadn’t really noticed the small girl quietly sobbing in the corner of the train, looking just as pale as now—he’d never asked what Ginny had heard, but now he got a good idea…

“You had forgotten.” He blinked. Ginny was grimacing. “You are not the only one who hears You-Know-Who when dementors are around.”

“That was not what… I never considered what you would remember.” He bit his lip. “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? You saved me. I was the one stupid enough to get involved with a Dark Lord.”

“You were not involved, I mean—you didn’t know who he was.” He met her gaze. “And I am sorry for forgetting what you went through. I guess it was just easier to think everything was all right.”

Harry remembered the final days of that term, when he had watched Ginny closer; after a moment’s struggle, she had looked happy, a bright version of the girl that had slowly shrinked that year. Even her brothers were visibly relieved that Ginny seemed to move on. At some point, Harry had just stopped looking for any distress sign.

Ginny sighed. “I know. That’s how I wanted you to perceive me. Not as the weak girl who couldn’t sleep at night because of her nightmares.”

“You are not weak. Why would I—why would anyone think so?”

“I still dream—”

“Everyone gets nightmares.” He thought about a graveyard, a cruel laugh, and a boy’s dead eyes. “It’s just a reminder that we survived. You survived.”

“Only because you—”

“Because you fought Riddle long enough to give me time to get there. You were eleven.”

“Saying like this makes me look stronger than I was.”

“You were strong. You are strong.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not saying this to excuse myself, but I forgot about you and Voldemort because I can’t see it when I look at you. You went through one of the worst things that any human could experience—I know how I felt just by thinking I was possessed—and yet you are here now, casting every spell, destroying those Death Eater dummies, and getting a reputation for that Bat Bogey Hex that I have yet to witness.”

He felt suddenly self-conscious of his speech, but Ginny was smiling softly now, and Harry just reminded himself that he was the teacher, he could be motivating even if it involved personal stuff. In any case, even her eyes were shining now, warmer; Ginny’s eyes were a nice shade of brown, like treacle tart.

“Let’s find Umbridge,” she suggested at last. “Then you can witness my Bat Bogey Hex, it will be epic.”

Harry chuckled. “I don’t doubt it, but I don’t think you’d want to be expelled.”

“I’d only be if I got caught,” she noted, winking at him. Then Ginny jumped, leaving a soft trace of flowers on the couch. “I’m going to get this.”

She closed her eyes, her expression confident. Harry couldn’t know what she was remembering, but a breeze filled the room, coming out of nowhere, and made Ginny’s hair move as if she was flying. Then Ginny opened her eyes —they were blazing—, flourished her wand and whispered, “Expecto Patronum!”

A silver shadow flew from her wand, dashing around the room before disappearing. It wasn’t shaped yet, but Harry could swear he saw a long snout and a floating mane.

“Yes!” She cried happily, beaming at Harry; for a moment, he thought she was going to hug him — he even opened his arms — but Ginny didn’t move. “It was something!”

“It was a perfect start,” he told her, jumping to his feet. Ginny looked bright now, and he didn’t think it was just an act. “What do you think it will be? Your patronus?”

“No idea. I think it had hooves.” She smirked. “It won’t be a stag, though, I’m hoping to be original here.”

Harry just smiled. “It’s my father. I mean, the stag represents my father. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later.”

“Ok.” She nodded, watching him, her expression sober now. “I remembered the first time I took flight on a broomstick.”

“That’s also one of the memories I tried that first time learning the Patronus Charm,” he noted, amused. “I’m glad it worked better for you.”

“Flying made me feel free—and powerful. I think I’m done with Riddle’s voice in my mind.” Ginny paused for a moment, watching Harry, before taking a deep breath. “I was afraid that if I couldn’t cast the Patronus, it meant that, in some way, I wanted to hear him.”

“I get it,” Harry mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes now. “The reason why I got so bad around dementors was because I could hear my parents’ voices, when they were… in their last minutes. And it was the only memory I had, so for a while I hung on to them.” He risked a glance at her. Ginny didn’t look pitiful, so he felt safe enough to give her a small smile.

She shook her head.

“I think you are very generous to compare you missing your parents with my unhealthy relationship with the diary that almost killed me, Harry, but that’s just you.”

“Well, what made me cast the Patronus Charm was that I could not risk us losing another Quidditch match.”

“Priorities.”

“I can tell all the effort paid off in the end.”

“Isn’t it true that you managed to fight off a hundred dementors to save Sirius?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “But I was thinking that Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup that year after all.”

She grinned back. Ginny had dimples when she smiled; she could be as bright as a Patronus, Harry thought suddenly. She’d manage to cast one soon, he just knew.

He was about to tell her this when the door of the room opened. Ginny glanced at the door before taking a step back, her face only slightly flushed as she asked him, as if continuing a different conversation, “How can I help you?”

“Huh?” Harry said, confused. The group of Ravenclaws had just entered, and while they were greeting him, Cho had given him a smile, though somewhat avoiding his gaze.

“The Room,” said Ginny patiently. “You like to get the Room ready before the lesson, and I thought I could be useful—hi, Michael.”

She waved at her boyfriend, and for a moment, it crossed Harry’s mind that there was as much enthusiasm in her voice as in Cho’s smile to him.

He shook his head. “Mirrors, it might be helpful.”

“I’m on, Professor Potter.”

“Not prat anymore? I see the improvement now.”

“Like I said, you are kind of decent, Harry.” She winked at him, clearly amused, and turned around; as mirrors appeared on the corners of the room, her boyfriend joined her, hands hanging on the inside of the pockets of his robes and just watching her.

I didn’t like him, Ron had said it once, and though Harry didn’t think he’d share this thought with anyone, he couldn't help but agree with Ron.

#Hinny #OotP Missing Moment #was going to upload this to ao3 but I don't have a title #hope you enjoy anon #i'm proud of the paralells i got here

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amorchai · 3 months ago

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hey, please can i request a ron x fem!reader fic where you and ron are asked to babysit one of his older brothers kids. like you both get so invested it makes you wanna have kids with him so bad in the future. and you both take his niece/nephew to the park and people think it's your kid. i can imagine him being so good with kids and so adorable 😫

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃.

pairing(s): ron weasley x female!reader

words: 689

warnings/tags: ron wants kids, inclusive as even though talking about future with children – can be in any way! think of it as pregnancy, adoption, ivf, surrogacy, whatever way works!

a/n: just so you know, i’m trying so hard to inclusive as i plan on adopting in the future rather than having my own.

“babe! guess who i have with me?” is the first thing you hear when you walk through the door, a bag of takeout for your dinner accompanying your side, tired from a day full of writing. when you walk through the threshold of your shared house, your met with ron sitting on the floor facing the muggle tv, victoire perched on his raised knees.

she giggles and raises her hands at the sight of her aunt, ron pulling her against him as he stands, “what a traitor, she’s been loving my attention all afternoon.” her hands continue to reach for you, trying to wriggle out of ron’s grasp and you laugh softly, taking her from your boyfriend’s arms.

your voice goes higher and softer in a baby-accommodating voice, “hello, baby. auntie missed your gorgeous face.” ron smiles warmly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your temple, ignoring the mess left upon the floor as he picks the discarded bag for dinner.

“did bill and fleur get to france okay?” you ask when you follow ron into the kitchen, stepping over an array of toys. you were at work by the time they dropped their daughter off in the early morning. ron’s unpacking the food on the counter, gathering plates in a desperate need to eat.

ron nods before replying, “just sent an owl back, they were asking how victoire is.” you bump her on your hip, keeping her amused while she watches her uncle curiously. “how has it been with her today?” you ask.

it’s the first time you’re both babysitting her, the last time molly desperate to have some time with her granddaughter. this time arthur had a fall and was currently being attended to, therefore ron was immediately volunteering in place.

you look from victoire and to ron when he doesn’t reply, a soft smile covering his expression as he instead replies, "you’d be a good mother.” you feel your face getting heated, trying hard not to smile when you state, “it took you less than five minutes.”

ron moves away from the food and to where you stand to watch, leaning in to press another chaste kiss to your cheek, “can’t help it.” you knew this would happen, you’ve had discussions of this in the past where ron’s desperate to start a family – marriage second on his priority list because he already knows he’s spending the rest of his life with you.

“go sit i’ll be right through,” he ushers, turning back to getting the food set up, “has victoire had her dinner?” you ask, already knowing the answer and ron nods, “spoiled, she is.”

ron’s heart swells once he walks through, plates full of takeout as he watches you hold victoire with a fond smile. he can hardly take his eyes off you as you both eat dinner, you attempting while keeping bill’s daughter on your lap.

you’re adamant to take her upstairs when it’s time for bed, ron washes the dishes as you do so. he can hear you coming downstairs before familiar arms wrap around his waist from behind.

he turns off the sink’s tap, drying off his hands when your chin rests on his back, “you still thinking about it?” you ask and he smiles. with a chuckle he turns around to face you, hands finding purchase at the nape of your neck, “i really want a kid with you.”

“god, you babysit your niece for one day, now you want your own,” your fingers fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt while his thumbs trace your skin. you were joking because since you both graduated hogwarts, you spoke about it several times. he had tons of siblings and was in a loving household, of course he wanted to raise his own family.

“you’d be a great mum,” he murmurs, lips pressing below your ear before continuing down your jaw to neck and your hands grip his shirt with a low giggle, “you said that.” his fingers are nudging your skin while his lips are gentle against your neck, body slightly looming over yours, “and i will continue to say it.”

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

#જ⁀➴ 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 #𝐡𝐩 𝐠𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚 ⁑ ron weasley ᡣ𐭩 #ron weasley #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x you #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley fanfiction #ronald weasley #golden trio #ron weasley x y/n

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enby-jellyfish · 3 months ago

Text

Love Potion

Eda Clawthorne (The Owl Lady) X GN!Reader (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/Your

Summary: You accidentally drink a love potion and come to an oh-so shocking realisation.

Warnings: Love potion.

Word Count: 533

A/N: Don't drink random unlabelled liquids kids!

Going to the Owl House is always a bit of a gamble in a lot of ways, especially smell. Sometimes the house smelled like fresh cookies. Sometimes like burning feathers. Once it smelled like socks that had been marinated in swamp water and left in the sun. That was a weird day.

Today?

Like something delicious.

You pause in the doorway, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply through your nose. Today’s smell is sweet, earthy, but also a little smoky? You can’t quite place it, but whatever it is, it smells good.

The bubbling cauldron in the kitchen seems to be the source. Curious, you wander over. Steam curls lazily from the mixture. Without thinking, you grab a stray mug from the counter and scoop up some of the liquid. It’s still warm, so you blow gently on the surface before taking a cautious sip.

It’s… really good. It tastes as sweet as it smells, slightly floral, with just a hint of bitterness. Maybe some-

SLAP.

The mug goes flying from your hand, the mixture splattering across the floor. “DON’T DRINK THAT!” Eda screeches, wild-eyed and panting like she just sprinted across the Boiling Isles, purely to deprive you from your drink.

You blink, stunned. “What?! Why?!” She grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you. “Because it’s a potion!” Your stomach twists. “What kind of potion?” Eda pauses. Then, very pointedly, doesn’t answer.

“…Eda?” She leans in close, eyes squinting. “Totally off topic, but uh… How do you feel?” You blink at her again, confused. “I feel fine? Nothing out of the ordinary. Why?”

Eda frowns, snatching a scroll off the counter and unrolling it with a dramatic flourish. Her eyes dart furiously over the scribbles. “No, no, I did everything right. The timing, the heat, the ratios." She turns back to you. "You really feel nothing?”

You’re really getting worried now. “Eda. What. Did. I. Drink?” She starts to laugh. Like, full-on wheezing, cackling, losing-her-damn-mind laughing. “Eda!” You snap.

“You just drank a love potion!” She gasps through wheezes of amusement, wiping a tear from her eye.

“…Huh?”

“Yeah! It’s supposed to make you fall in love with the first person you see after drinking it. Boom! Heart eyes, pathetic giggling, the whole dumb package.” You stare at her incredulously. “And why, exactly, did you make a love potion?”

She waves a hand like it’s no big deal. “I needed to attract a few Moonlight Moths. They’re crazy for the stuff.” You blink. “That’s… one way to go about that.”

“Eh, it works.” She grins, her gold tooth peeking out from inside of her mouth. “Anyway, you feel nothing. Which means…” She points at you, dramatic as always. “You already had feelings for me.”

You freeze. “Oh.”

“Oh.” She echoes, voice smug and sing-songy. “Caught you.”

A beat.

Then. “Don’t worry.” Eda continues, softer, genuine. She steps closer, wiping some left-over potion from your lips.

And then, because she’s Eda Clawthorne and of course she does, she pops her finger in her mouth with a hum. “I have feelings too.” She winks, her voice dropping down as if she’s telling you a secret.

Honestly? You’re not even mad about the potion anymore.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3

#eda x reader #eda clawthorne x reader #edalyn clawthorne x reader #the owl house x reader #owl house x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #my writing

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d1xonss · 4 months ago

Text

Desert Rose

Chapter 72 ~ Owl Sculptures

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 6.3k

In this chapter ~ When it comes time for Rose to start her new job, she finds that this place is oddly peaceful with little to no conflict to be found. But after tagging along with Rick to investigate vandalism on someone’s property, she seems to discover more than she bargained for.

There was the sound of a light breeze passing just outside the window, the faint chirping of birds could also be heard just behind the thick glass. But my eyes remained sealed shut, almost not ready to welcome a new day after last night had been so blissful. So special. It's like I wanted nothing to ruin the high I continued to ride.

Though my brows furrowed when I heard a faint shuffling around the room, followed by a zipping of a jacket just at the foot of the bed. I reluctantly allowed myself to wake out of pure curiosity, taking in the bedroom in a new light now that the sun shone through the thin curtains. And it was just as beautiful as I remembered. My gaze then traveled toward where the noise was still coming from, seeing Daryl's hunched over figure putting on some layers, lacing up his boots as he got ready for the day.

"Hey..." I murmured to grasp his attention.

My voice caused him to glance back at me with a small smile, "Jesus woman, ya really slept in." he commented, his hand reaching over to give my leg a squeeze.

"What time is it?"

"Bout noon." he said.

My eyes widened, "Noon?? Christ..." I muttered while rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

A snort of amusement escaped him, "Ya needed it. Feel like it was the first good night sleep you've gotten in a long time."

I tilted my head, a satisfied smile crossing my face, "Hm, I wonder why that is..."

"Dirty." he narrowed his eyes playfully, turning back to finish up tying his boots.

I sat myself up with a stretch, yawning quietly as I still felt like I could've slept for five more hours despite how late it was already. Though I couldn't wait to spend some time in the new house, busying myself paining or reading in one of the giant windows that I could sit comfortably in. Only then did I realize I actually had responsibilities now. The reminder of speaking to Deanna last night, knowing I had to pick up my uniform and start my first day, that alone made me want to jump out the window instead.

My attention was brought back toward him when he moved to sit at the edge of the bed beside me, "I got some stuff ta catch ya up on."

I stretched my arms out, "Lay it on me, baby."

He smiled, "Alright. We had another meetin with Rick and Carol bout the guns, and she got em last night. But I said I didn't need one. M' gonna try and get by round here without relyin on it as much as we have. But..." he trailed off, reaching behind his back to grasp something tucked away in his belt, pulling it out to reveal a handgun.

"I didn't know where ya stood. So, I got one for ya just in case..."

I glanced down at the firearm that I became all too familiar with, taking it from his grasp. The weight of it felt heavier in my hands than I remembered, somehow more uncomfortable than before. But I knew in the back of my mind that I wanted to do the same thing he was. Try.

"I promised I was going to start trying too...so, in that case-" I reached over to open the drawer to the nightstand and placed the weapon inside, shutting it again before turning back to face him.

He chuckled, "Proud of ya."

"I'm proud of you too." I said, leaning up a bit further to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He hummed quietly at my affection, but then his face seemed to drop again, "And, uh...Aaron already asked me ta go out on a run with him today, so m' gettin ready ta leave right now."

My shoulders slumped a little, "How long will you be gone?"

"Not long. Maybe a day- two tops."

I hummed, "I'm gonna miss you..."

"M' gonna miss ya too, angel." he said, leaning over and placing a quick kiss on my lips, "But I'll be back before ya know it."

"I know...just be safe out there."

He nodded, "Always am." he promised before leaning back down to kiss me once more, standing up just a moment later to grab his crossbow, strapping it across himself. "And good luck with everythin today. You'll do great."

I smiled, "So will you." I spoke truthfully, raising my hand up to my lips to blow him a kiss just as he backed out the bedroom door.

A soft chuckle left him as he reached out to catch it, placing it on his cheek. "One more." I complied, blowing him another to which he caught while he continued to back away, planting it on his cheek just the same. "One more..."

I laughed, waving him away, "No, get out of here before you're late."

"Alright, alright." he agreed, sending me a small wink before he finally headed down the stairs, "Love you."

"Love you too." I called out, hearing him descend toward the front door, before it opened and closed with a soft click.

When it hit me that I was alone, I flopped back on the bed with a groan, pondering over the thought of going over to Deanna's house just to pick up my stupid windbreaker and patrol the walls until the sun sets. I didn't even know if Michonne and Rick were working like I was today, but I guess there's only one way to know for sure.

I slowly forced myself to crawl out of bed and get ready for the long day ahead, throwing on some clean clothes and managing to tame my wild hair. Though just as I was turning off the lights to leave, I couldn't help but send a lingering glance back over towards the nightstand just over my shoulder. I would be lying if I said it wasn't a little tempting to take the weapon that I had purposefully hidden, but I wanted to stick to my word. Remembering what I promised Maggie.

Shaking my head from the appealing thought, I finally departed from the house and headed down the street toward the Monroe's. It seemed quiet today, the atmosphere around me was calm. Maybe apart from what happened to me last night, everything went well at the party and the others managed to have a good time. It's hard to get out there and socialize with people you don't even know, but it seemed like a lot of them were laughing and having fun by the time the drinks had loosened their tongues. Perhaps it wasn't all bad.

It didn't take long before I was standing tall on Deanna's porch, letting out a breath before I raised my hand to knock to signal my arrival. Now, I had expected the woman herself to answer the door, or maybe even her husband. But who I didn't anticipate on was the absolute one person I didn't want to see after the little scene I caused last night.

The door opened to reveal Spencer, his face dropping instantly when he saw me standing on the other side. He did not look too happy to feast his eyes on the monster who ruined his khakis with beer.

"Oh, " we both muttered at the same time.

Everything about him caused me to roll my eyes, "Is your mommy home?" I deadpanned.

"Why do you want to know?" he scoffed.

I blinked, "Listen, I know you have this whole insecurity thing going on here, but I just need my uniform. Is she here or not?"

He sighed deeply with annoyance before finally opening the door wider so I could step in, calling for her from where I assumed she was upstairs. He shut the door once I made my way inside, eyeing me for a few long moments before he opened his big fat mouth again.

"You go home to your redneck last night?" he asked, his tone dripping with some kind of mockery. Did he really think he was some huge upgrade or something? I suddenly lost more respect for his parents with the way he turned out.

"Oh, yeah I did." I answered, "But I gotta admit, it was hard to get out of bed this morning. Couldn't get my legs to stop shaking." I said with a wink.

His eyes widened at the vulgarness that came from my mouth, his lips parting in attempt to make some sort of comeback.

"Ah, Rose!" Deanna's voice cut off whatever he was about to say, her figure walking down the steps, "I'm sure you're here to pick up your uniform."

"That's right." I replied, "And not at all to talk to your asshat of a son." I muttered under my breath.

Apparently he had heard my hushed words considering the annoyed huff that came from him, but he didn't dare say a thing as Deanna made her way over to me with a smile, "Well, everything you need is right here." she said, nodding to the clothes in her hands, "You can start whenever you'd like. Just patrol the walls, keep an eye out, basically do what was talked about in the meeting."

I nodded as I took the outfit she handed me, "Yeah, thanks. I'll make sure everything's taken care of."

"I know you will." she said genuinely.

My head dipped down once more, wanting to turn on my heel and leave before she tried to "small talk" me. However, she was quicker than I was. "So, I heard Daryl took the job with Aaron and they're out on a run as we speak."

I cleared my throat awkwardly, "Uh, yeah. I'm glad he'll have something to do that he actually enjoys. And the motorcycle is definitely a plus."

"Oh, I bet. Did he have a bike before?" she asked.

"Yeah, he did. But we couldn't exactly hold onto it forever, so...it's nice to have another one." I explained.

She nodded a bit sympathetically, seeming to understand the meaning behind my words. "Um...and one more thing." she spoke a little more quietly, "I wanted to apologize for what I did last night. I mean as soon as I realized what I had said, I just felt awful-"

"It's okay." I interrupted, "You couldn't have known, don't beat yourself up about it. I'm just glad there are some people mature enough to apologize for their actions." I said, glancing over at Spencer from the corner of my eye.

She furrowed her brows as she had no idea what I was talking about, but I spoke up again before she had the chance to question it. "Thanks for the clothes, I'll be sure to start as soon as I can." I smiled before turning to walk back toward their front door. But not without accidentally stepping on Spencer's foot on my way out.

From what I had gathered, purgatory was a place that could only be described as your worst nightmare. And I think I had officially found mine. For hours now I had been pacing around the community, the day just seeming to drag on and on at a torturous pace. Forever felt like an understatement in this moment in time. And the cherry on top was of course my attire, all while patrolling the walls where nothing seemed to be happening.

It was mundane. No drama, no confrontation, everything was just too quiet. I felt stupid with the outfit that was given to me and every time my arms moved, the jacket would make a noise. It started to get annoying after the first five times, but maybe I just didn't have a lot of patience in the first place.

However, after rounding the corner for the hundredth time, I spotted a van being loaded up in the distance toward the gates, assuming that a group was packing up for a run. My eyes narrowed and I raised my hand to block the sun from my eyes, managing to see Glenn, Tara, Noah and a few others transferring some supplies into the vehicle. I picked up my pace a little in hopes to wish them luck before they left, but then I seemed to slow once I remembered what I was wearing. Knowing they would definitely have something to say about it.

But it was too late.

Glenn managed to spot me within seconds as I had already gotten too close, seeing his face drop comically at my appearance. Asshole. My eyes rolled at his dramatic reaction while I sluggishly made my way closer, seeing him now lift one of his hands up to cover his mouth as if I was wearing some fucking clown suit. My lips upturned into a sarcastic smile and my hands shoved into the pockets of my jacket, hearing his laughs once I was within earshot.

"Wow." was all he could seem to say.

I scoffed, "Yeah, mock all you want. I was actually coming over to wish you luck and hope it all goes well, but now you've just hurt my feelings."

"Oh come on," he said with a roll of his eyes, "I didn't even say anything."

"You were thinking something."

"Yeah, what was I thinking?" he asked.

"That I look like a cop from a really shitty eighties movie." I managed to hit right on the money, raising my eyebrows expectantly while his mouth seemed to drop. Clearly pulling the thought right out of his mind.

"Oh, you're good." he said with a shake of his head.

I nodded, "Yeah, I know. I had the exact same thought when I looked in the mirror earlier."

He laughed lightly, his hand coming up to rub his chin, "You look fine. Really professional, like you're gonna yell at some kids for playing hopscotch."

I huffed and reached out to shove his arm lightly, "Shut the hell up."

"Hey, I'm joking! You look fine." he defended.

"I think she looks hot." Tara cut in, coming up next to me to wrap an arm around my shoulders.

I smiled at her, "Thank you, Tara." my eyes panned back over toward Glenn, "See, maybe I should be taking new best friend applications, cause the one I've got is doing a pretty shitty job." I said sarcastically.

He groaned, "Okay, you look great. Fabulous even, stunning in that windbreaker."

"Thank you." I placed my hand over my heart in a dramatic manner.

Then Tara leaned over to whisper to me, "I'll still take that application."

"You'll get it." I reassured which caused her to smile brightly, before walking back over to help with transferring a few more bags into the van.

"So, you started today," Glenn grunted as he moved a box toward the entrance of the pantry, "What've you done so far?"

"Nothing. I've done absolutely nothing. Because there's nothing to do. There seriously isn't even a tiny blade of grass out of place, apparently everyone just minds their own business around here." I complained.

"Well, I'm sure something will come up eventually. Help the day go by faster." he tried to assure.

I sighed, "God, I hope so otherwise it's going to be a painfully long and boring day for me. Meanwhile you guys are going outside, finding all the cool shit."

He laughed at my dramatics, leaning in to speak quieter, "If you want, I'll bring back something pretty for you."

My smile softened, "Thanks, honey."

He nodded before heading back over to the vehicle to double check the route they were taking, everyone else around saying a few goodbyes to loved ones about. Though I almost found myself laughing when my eyes landed on Eugene's face, only assuming just how nervous he was considering this was his first supply run ever. It wasn't hard to see that this was the last thing he wanted to do with his day, but clearly they needed him out there so they would get the right things only he seemed to know about.

"Eugene!" I called to get his attention, his eyes whipping over to me, "You're gonna be fine."

He looked like he was going to say something, but stopped himself short and just gave me a thin-lipped smile and a thumbs up, heading to the back of the van to hop in. Adien and Nicholas jumped in the front to start up the engine while I pushed myself to walk over once everyone else got situated in the back, my hands coming up to rest on the doors before they took off.

"Be safe. All of you be safe." I said glancing at all of their faces.

"We will." Noah reassured.

I nodded and gave Glenn's shoulder a squeeze before I pushed both doors shut with a slam, watching as they headed out the gates and into the open space, blasting some loud music to draw the walkers away from the community. I had seen people depart similar to this many times before, yet somehow this time felt a bit different. Maybe it was because I didn't trust Aiden and Nicholas to have a steady head on their shoulders, or maybe because the world is just too unforgiving. I couldn't know for sure.

But I didn't allow myself to linger on the thought for too long, knowing I couldn't exactly dick around anymore now that they were gone. Sighing, I turned back to walk around the community again and just prayed there could be something productive I could help with.

But then a miracle seemed to fall right into my lap. About halfway around the gated place, I spotted Rick walking down the street, not hesitating for a moment before jogging to catch up with him. He looked like a man on a mission, giving me the slightest bit of hope that he actually had been given something to take care of.

"Hey." I breathed once I had caught up with him, keeping pace by his side.

His head turned at my sudden presence, glancing down at what I was wearing just as everyone else seemed to. "Well, look at you."

"I know we look stupid together, how sweet." I deadpanned which caused him to chuckle, "So, where are you headed? I'm dying for something to do."

"I'm on my way over to Jessie's. She said someone vandalized something on her property, so I said I would head over to check it out."

I nodded, "Mind if I come? I'm bored to fucking tears here."

"Hm," he grunted as he pretended to think about it for a moment, "I think it would be nice to have a partner in crime, right?" he said with a smile.

I found myself returning the gesture, "I couldn't agree more."

"So, how are you liking the new house?" he asked.

My eyes widened, "You know about that already?"

"We all know at this point; you weren't up this morning."

I scoffed lightly, "My God, a girl sleeps in one time and misses everything. But to answer your question; yes it's very nice. And I like that it's just right across from you guys."

He nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I like that too..." he trailed off, getting lost in thought for a moment as if he had completely forgotten the conversation.

My head tilted a little as I watched him grow silent, "What?"

The man snapped out of his trance quickly at my voice, "Nothing." he shook off, "Did you...bring your gun?" he lowered his voice to ask.

I shook my head, "No. I'm trying to stick to my word, and I don't think I need it. At least...not right now."

"But you think you'll need it eventually?"

I paused for a beat or two to think what I would need that kind of weapon for, and then a certain doctor popped right into my mind. "Maybe...with the way Pete's acting, I don't think I can just stand by and..." I trailed off.

Though he knew where I was going with my statement, reading my mind like he always did. "Yeah, me too." he agreed quietly.

I wanted to talk more of the situation, to get a feel of how he thought we should deal with it if it meant getting in the middle of this mess together. But again, he read my mind. He held his hand up to stop me from even breathing the man's name again, gesturing toward the house to our right to signal that we had arrived. Putting a pin in the conversation for now. But I only grew confused as the structure seemed spotless and not tampered with at all, which made me wonder if that was the real reason she called Rick over here.

Maybe I was reading too much into it, but regardless I was going to enjoy the look on her face when she noticed I showed up with him. I loved being a cockblock.

We wordlessly walked into the opened garage where Jessie was knelt down, my eyes drifting toward the scraps of metal laying around everywhere, and then it clicked. She looked up at the two of us with a sad smile and just gestured to the pieces laying around her as she stood back up to her full height.

"I guess someone really doesn't like owls." she mumbled, collecting a few pieces in her hands.

I stepped further into the garage and looked down at it with a furrowed brow, "This is supposed to be an owl?"

"It looked more like an owl before." she reassured, "Someone just came in here and...did this." Rick bent down and glanced at the mess while she continued, "Stuff like this...never really happens here."

Yeah, tell me about it. I patrolled around here for a long ass time and this was the only interesting thing I got out of it.

"Well, you got any enemies?" Rick jokingly asked, "Anybody around here who hates owls?" his comments got her to laugh, shaking her head in response as he continued. "Well, it's too bad there isn't someone who can look into this kind of thing." he spoke knowingly.

I rolled my eyes dramatically, not even trying to hide my annoyance as I stood awkwardly in the middle of them with my arms folded over my chest, feeling like I was interrupting something. Rick was playing a dangerous game considering he knew the kind of asshole she was married to, still not showing any signs of backing off even after I tried to warn him. But if he wasn't going to listen, then it wasn't my problem anymore. I could only hope we could put his face back together in the end.

However, as my thoughts trailed off, I began to tune them out while looking down at all the pieces that were broken apart, scattered across the pavement. How could someone just come in here and wreck this without any of them knowing from just inside the house? Then it got me thinking.

"Do you have any kids?" I found myself asking. They both paused to glance over at me, Jessie nodding her head with a small smile. "How old?"

"Ron's fifteen and Sam's ten...why?" she asked.

A kid as young as ten could see his father's aggressive behavior and act on it as well. Almost in a mimicking way. Picking up on the tendencies, he could've gotten angry enough about something and took it out on this sculpture. Working with children who have anger issues, they seem to feel a lot calmer and almost relaxed after hitting, kicking, or in this case; tearing something apart. Though I would never commit to saying that out loud to Jessie.

"Well, I'm just thinking out loud about how it's a small possibility that someone passing by came in here just to do this. It could've been someone in the household...most likely Sam because of his age." I said casually.

"You think Sam did this?" she asked.

I shook my head, "It's not an accusation...just a possibility. I know you didn't necessarily call me here to say my opinion, but it's just what I believe could've happened."

She nodded slowly, though it was clear she didn't want to accept my theory. "We'll ask around." Rick assured.

"It's not really that big of a deal, it was just an owl." she tried to defend.

I shrugged, "Well, we don't really have anything better to do today. This is the most exciting thing I've come across. But do me a favor and talk to Sam...see if there's something bothering him."

She seemed hesitant at first, but eventually nodded her head in agreement before the two of us left. I realize she probably doesn't think very highly of me now that I accused her son, whom I've never met, that he broke something just because he felt like it. But it made the most sense. I felt I couldn't tell her my full reasoning without giving away what I knew about Pete, surely she would deny everything. But Sam developing some kind of anger issues wasn't something out of the ordinary.

Rick and I asked a few people in passing throughout the rest of the day if anyone witnessed anything, but in the end it all just seemed like a waste of time. They all gave the same answer, saying they hadn't seen or heard of anything unusual. And most of the older people managed to turn the conversation into something completely off topic, keeping the both of us there for far longer than we needed to be. But surprisingly, it was still better to have something to do. It kept us busy until it was technically quitting time for us, going our separate ways to change and just relax for a little while.

My form of relaxing today was going over to the house Carol was staying in and talking shit with her. She always had the best snacks and was a pretty good listener. Plus I wanted to get to the bottom of this whole innocent act she was pulling since we never had the chance to discuss it before. But I had to admit, it was genius.

I was eating some pretzels at the kitchen island while she flipped through a few pages of a cookbook, briefly discussing the new recipes she wanted to try. But then she brought up the inevitable. "So, how was your first day on the job?"

I groaned quietly, "Boring. So boring that Rick and I asked people if they had seen anyone go into Jessie's garage and break their owl statue. That was the biggest thing that happened today; destroyed metal."

She laughed and looked up from the pages, "Sounds entertaining to me."

"Right, until you actually have to ask around. It was just humiliating at that point because no one really cared. And with good reason. But anyway, I already know who did it so it was kind of pointless."

"Who did it?" she asked.

"Her kid, Sam. I'm thinking he got upset and was just looking for something to take his frustrations out on." my tone was casual as I spoke.

When she didn't respond, I looked back up to her face to see she was looking at me like I was completely crazy. "Carol, I'm telling you, he's the one who did it. I'm positive."

"Have you ever met this kid?" she asked.

I shook my head, "No, have you?"

"Yes. And I don't think he's capable of doing that kind of thing. He's way too soft." she sighed, flipping through the pages once more. "If anything, this world is going to eat him alive."

I only shrugged in response, not knowing for sure if I was right about the situation, though it was a good lead. The best one I had gotten all day.

A sudden knock coming from the front door tore our attention away from each other. I stood up instinctively and offered to get it for her, walking towards the entrance and unlocked the deadbolt, opening the door to see a kid standing there with a small smile on his face.

"Hi, who are you?" I asked.

"I'm Sam. I'm here to give Carol more chocolate so she can make some cookies for me. Is she home?" he asked, his head peering around me to try and see inside.

My eyes widened a little. Talk about timing. Although I had to admit, he did look quite innocent and cheerful, not at all the vision of him I had conjured up in my mind. But that didn't mean he wasn't capable. I simply nodded my head and allowed him to come in, watching him head straight for the kitchen as if he'd been here many times before. I assumed she wouldn't mind the extra company, but it seemed the moment she laid her eyes on him she only grew annoyed, not wanting to make the sweets he had requested at all. But eventually she caved, not being able to deny his pleading any longer than she had. I then only felt guilty for letting him in to begin with.

Watching the two interact was odd. Like a weird dynamic I couldn't place, seeing she hadn't had to look out for any new kids since Lizzy and Mika. But perhaps that's why it was off putting for her as well, and I could understand completely why she wouldn't want to be responsible for another child. The first two times didn't work out at all in her favor, leading me to assume why she was pushing him away time and time again even when all he wanted was some company.

By the time the cookies were almost done, Carol couldn't have looked more irritated. "After these are done that's it, I'm not helping you again and you're not coming back. You got it?"

"Uh huh." Sam muttered absentmindedly.

"I hope you're not expecting to leave with more than half of these. You barely did half the work." she continued as she began to collect the dishes.

"Ooh more for me." my hands clapped lightly in excitement.

Carol sent me a playful glare before setting the bowls and a couple mixing tools in the sink. "Were you always a good cook?" the kid suddenly asked.

I could see her tense up at the question, clearly not too keen on talking about the past. "Sam we're not talking anymore. Wipe the counter." she muttered and handed him a damp rag.

He did as he was told, staring to rid of the flour and sugar that lingered on the surface. "Did you like it? Cooking?"

"Sam." she warned again with her back turned.

He sighed, "We don't have to be friends...it just doesn't have to be quiet."

There was a long and awkward silence that followed, my eyes looking back and forth between the two of them from where I sat, "I was always a terrible cook," I chimed in, "Never could quite get the hang of it. But scrambled eggs were my specialty."

Sam smiled at my attempt to make light of the conversation, nodding his head in agreement, "I'm good at making eggs too. And I guess cookies now if that counts."

We both then looked toward Carol, hearing her sigh softly before she eventually spoke up as well, "I was good at it...it distracted me. Made me forget when I was sad."

The brief reminder of Ed was enough to make my expression sour, but it was also a reminder of how far Carol has come since then. She grew a thick skin, a shield of sorts that only grew stronger with each passing day. A role model for the role models in my opinion.

"Sometimes when I get sad...I break stuff." Sam confessed casually.

Carol's eyes snapped to mine, her expression dropping in shock. But I couldn't have looked more smug, leaning back in my seat while I gestured to him as if she hadn't already connected the dots. "What kind of stuff?" Carol asked.

He just shrugged, quietly continuing to clean and didn't give a real answer. "I heard something about your owl statue...that someone had broken it. Did you do it?" she asked cautiously.

His movements halted, his eyes glued to his feet as he could no longer look up at either of us.

Yes.

"Why?" I found myself asking.

His gaze panned up toward me, before glancing back at Carol almost hypocritically, "Why'd you steal the guns?"

My eyes widened in disbelief of his knowledge about the stolen weapons, but Carol shook her head at me with a raise of her hand, silently telling me it was okay. But how could it be okay? He knew about what she did, and she was fine with it?

"Because sometimes you need to protect yourself." she said honestly.

"...Can I have a gun?" he asked.

I leaned in closer, resting my arms on the counter, "Why do you want one?"

He glanced back over at me, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he shook his head lightly, "It's not for me."

"Then who's it for?" I pressed again.

He visibly started to grow uncomfortable, not willing to answer what we wanted to know. Clearly feeling scared and uneasy at what would happen if he did.

Jessie.

"Sam, who's it for?" Carol tried to ask, but suddenly, he took off through the kitchen and out the front door before either of us could utter another word.

Everything was coming together and making perfect sense. I always had a sort of inkling that Pete was abusive toward his family, but this was all the confirmation I needed. I felt terrible thinking about what they had to endure because of him, a ten year old kid wanting a gun in order to protect his mom. But I silently knew it was only a matter of time before we dealt with him. Even if nobody else was on my side about it, I would take care of him all by myself if I had to.

Carol then turned towards me, "Well...you really are good at your job." she said with a small smile.

I returned the gesture, watching her quickly turn around to pull the fresh baked goods out of the oven behind her, "And that earns you a cookie." she finished.

Even as the hour grew later, I still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that settled within me after Sam had rushed out of the house not too long ago. I knew he ran home, but home wasn't necessarily safe for him. And even if it was none of my business, I didn't care. So, I found myself heading back toward their house to not only make sure he was okay, but to let Jessie know that Sam was in fact the one who broke the statue and not some angry neighbor.

I had approached the house and knocked on the door once, waiting for a response for what felt like a lifetime, but there was no answer. Though that didn't stop me from knocking again a bit harder than the last, assuming someone had to be home with how late it was now. But I didn't fail to notice how weirdly quiet it was, darkness covering almost the entirety of the house, before I heard movement from inside. That's when the door opened.

Pete stood there towering over me with bags under his eyes, his breath absolutely reeking of alcohol. He was leaning on the doorframe slightly for support as if he would fall over without it.

"What do you want?" he asked.

My eyes fluttered closed for a moment in obvious annoyance, "Sam...stopped by earlier and I noticed he seemed a little off. I figured I'd come here to make sure he was okay."

He scoffed, "Why wouldn't he be?"

My gaze hardened, "Can I talk to Jessie?"

His mouth formed into a thin lipped smile as he tried to steady himself to stand up straighter, "Not a good time." he muttered, moving to shut the door.

"Pete, don't-" I started but was left with the door slamming in my face.

I wanted to go in there. I wanted to barge right into the house just to be certain that they were okay and safe from this prick, but if nothing was happening at this very moment, that wouldn't be good on my end. I had to practically force myself to turn around to head down the steps, exhaling a sharp breath as my mind was at war with itself.

And the gun behind my back weighing me down with each step I took.

I marched right back over to Rick's house, not even bothering to knock as I made my presence loudly known, Carol already waiting in the living room. Briefly I had told them where I was going, in case things went south and they had to come looking for me. Clearly I was physically fine, but with the way I entered the house only left them more anxious as they dreadfully anticipated my response.

"He's hitting her." I breathed, "And we have to do something about it now."

A heavy silence passed, like a calm before a storm. Before Rick slowly stepped forward, "You said you had a feeling from the start just by what you saw. Tell me everything you saw."

"The first time I met him when I went in to get my throat looked at, he was wasted and angry at me for even knocking on his door. I spotted the bottle of whiskey with my own damn eyes with just the few minutes of being in his office. Then at the party I noticed how Jessie was acting weird around him, I saw her flinch even if it was subtle. And now today with Sam asking for a gun...but he doesn't want it for him. He wants it to protect her."

Carol stood up from her seat while Rick was processing my words, "What happened when you went over to the house?"

"He answered the door completely wasted again. I asked if Sam was okay, and he didn't give me a real answer, and he wouldn't let me talk to Jessie. Just ended up slamming the door in my face." I spoke.

"Was the house quiet?" Carol asked.

I nodded and suddenly her expression morphed into something much greater than worry. I knew that the darkness and the odd silence was something to fear, something that wasn't normal. We needed to take care of this now. When someone's getting hurt, minding my business isn't really my thing.

"What's our next move?" Rick asked, turning to me now for answers.

I shook my head, "I have a feeling there's only one way this is going to go." He tilted his head at me, waiting for me to continue, "We're gonna have to kill him..."

~ Thanks for reading!

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hkthatgffan · 3 months ago

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Do u have any criticism of the owl house?

Well, I've never made it that big a secret I'm not personally the biggest fan of The Owl House. I mean, back in 2018 when it was greenlit, I was actually more excited for it than I was for Amphibia, but in the end, I came to love Amphibia more so. That's not to say I dislike TOH. Compared to SVTFOE, I love it. But it never really was my cup of tea.

I mean, I never personally to begin with was a big fan of the whole magic, witches and wizard stuff. No prizes therefore for guessing that I never grew up watching Harry Potter as a kid. I mean, I never even finished watching all the HP movies till years after they came out. I just never have been a fan of that kind of stuff (and quite frankly these days with Harry Potter at least, that's probably a bullet fucking dodged so, thank you 8 year old me for being more into planes, Top Gear and Phineas and Ferb instead of anything JK Rowling made).

But seriously, I can love and appreciate TOH for the show it was and all it did. Plus, there's no denying it was a beyond important show for what it did with Lumity and LGBTQ+ rep in Disney cartoons. No matter what else, to have gone from Alex Hirsch being told he couldn't have a lesbian couple in Gravity Falls to Luz and Amity dancing in Grom and becoming girlfriends is a massive achievement and something that no one can ever take away from TOH, Dana Terrace or her crew (though, also credit to SVTFOE for being the first DTVA cartoon for having a same sex couple kiss, Jackie having a girlfriend by the end of S4 and Star even once being implied as bi, as well as Gravity Falls for Wendy who is technically also bi as we now know and Mabel too as it's been theorized)!

That said, looking back, I find some of the episodes to be somewhat forgettable and boring. In fairness, Amphibia had some like that too, but whereas I've found rewatching Amphibia episodes from season 1 for example to be pretty fun, I don't as much see so with TOH. But that's just my personal nitpicks and quite frankly, the overall show is solid...even if season 3 and the ending felt super rushed, though that was more so the fault of the show being cut short than maybe problems the writers didn't address.

And speaking of the cut, the way it was handled is quite possibly, my single greatest piece of critique for The Owl House. In case you don't remember, the very same day the trailer for season 2 was released, Dana and other news sources revealed TOH was greenlit for season 3 and it was a shorter order due to the show being cut short.

Now, I get that Dana announcing it the way she did was partly out of frustration and tbh, I'm sure I'd think the same if it was my show on the chopping block, but the choice to say that so early on before season 2 had even started opened a sorta pandora's box that TOH fandom still suffers from today.

Suddenly the focus was not as much on season 2 and what would happen in it and more on the cut and anger at Disney about it. I mean, we had TOH fans bombarding the comments section of DTVA posts about it, changing their pfp's to be anti DTVA, etc. It was crazy. And I mean, I get it. I was frustrated too when this was revealed. I still am. But I wish they had announced this not before season 2 had begun, but closer to season 3 starting.

It was like all anyone ever talked about after that in relation to TOH was always in the shadow of this. Even as season 2 improved in quality more and more and I too found myself being interested in TOH again after taking a break from it to focus on the end of Amphibia the following year, this was still a huge chunk of the conversation. Hell, in some ways the cut even became a good scapegoat for a lot of shortfalls with season 2, even though S2 probably had already been in production before the cut and many issues or plot holes in it may have been resolved with a full season 3.

What I'm trying to get at basically is that announcing The Owl House was ending before season 2 had even begun, when the fandom was as mainstream and popular as it was, just caused a shift in tone with fans not as much seeming to enjoy, theorize and watch the show and instead be left with the impending knowledge that it was nearing the end.

Comparably, Alex Hirsch did not reveal that Gravity Falls would be ending until November 2015; when there were just 2 episodes left. I go on about this in my video back in February about Alex's Tumblr post but I said basically that compared to TOH, it was a better way of announcing the show was ending.

youtube

Announcing Gravity Falls was ending when only 2 episodes were left meant fans had time to accept the end was coming, while also being made clear that there was nothing that could be done to reverse this. And even if fans before hand had assumed GF was nearing the end, they couldn't say so with assurance as Alex had not said anything confirming or denying it. Simply put, GF fans until the very last second, watched the show as if it was ongoing and not nearing a close. There was no worry about how many episodes were left or begging for season 3 to the same extent, given fans didn't know if this was it or more was to come. They just enjoyed the show and not worried. At most, if there was a season 3, it would be a longer wait. I mean, that was the mentality I had with DuckTales season 3 and thinking season 4 may be a longer wait until they finally revealed S3 was the last just a few episodes before the end.

Of course, I'm saying this all from what limited knowledge I got from GF fans who were there and my personal experience with DuckTales and TOH, but comparably, TOH fandom knowing it was ending so early on left them a lot more angry and upset. Now anything that happened in S2 was overshadowed by the impending end. And while much of what I said here is based on what I saw in my experience, it got tiresome real fast to see TOH fans complaining about the show ending and yelling in the comments of DTVA posts about it, as if any executive at DTVA who really could reverse that choice would see that.

Should be clear, I'm not saying I have issues with Dana telling TOH fans the show was ending and being upfront about it or her critique of Disney and how they treated the show. Nor am I saying I dislike that fans were angry about it. Both had every right to be so and I would probably be as upset myself if it was Amphibia instead that got this treatment.

But IMO, it should've been revealed AFTER season 2 ended or just before the season finale. Maybe there was a hope the fan reaction would make Disney change course. Maybe it was just a case of announce and get it over with. I feel personally that TOH fandom would have benefitted from learning season 3 was the last season a lot later than when they found out.

For me, it made the fandom experience less enjoyable and made me not as interested in TOH probably in turn. After my bad experiences in the Star fandom, I had a feeling TOH fandom would have similar issues once the show began to get more popular post Grom. So, I jumped ship off it and chose to be more a fan on the sidelines and enjoy it on my own. And I have no regrets about doing that. I'm a GF fan first and foremost and I ended up having fun being able to work on my GF projects more so without having to commit to another show's fandom and instead enjoy it at my own pace. But I always heard stuff and what I did see was what I've mentioned here.

Maybe you disagree and your TOH fandom experience was better and not as full of this type of stuff. I've heard this was more so a TOH fandom on Twitter and Instagram issue than say, Reddit TOH fandom. But IDK enough to make a firm answer so, I'll just say what I know from my own experience.

Long story short, Alex Hirsch made the right call announcing Gravity Falls was ending 2 episodes before the end instead of just before Scary-Oke even began. I mean, imagine going into GF S2 in 2014 knowing you had just this season and no more after that. Easier as a post finale fan but maybe a shocker if it was back in the day.

Then there's Matt Braly who did the best of both worlds and announced Amphibia would end after season 3 in 2021 too on his Reddit AMA but with fans knowing it always was gonna end that way.

Long story short, of all the criticism I have for TOH, that's probably my main issue that I feel I can at least explain. Anything else is just personal preference I have for Amphibia more so over it.

Still, all this to say, The Owl House deserved better. Fans should've gotten a full final season just like Amphibia got.

Also, I miss Hooty!

#AMA #Ask That GF FAN #That GF FAN #Ask #the owl house #TOH #Amphibia #gravity falls

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captainkirkk · 2 years ago

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

ATLA

all my skeletons out for the taking by 136108

Azula wins the Agni Kai, and the playing field shifts.

The Owl House

Grom Knight by ObabScribbler

Belos is dead. The Collector is defeated. The portal door is working again and everyone now just has to move on with their lives and rebuild normality as best they can. This is easier for some than for others.

When Willow invites Hunter to Grom, he assumes it is so that he, as a non-student of Hexside, can still be there to help Skara in her duties as Grom Queen. Emerald Entrails stick together, after all. Clearly there could be no other reason for Willow to invite him. This is all set to be a simple, friendly combined dance and fight with a demonic entity that reads minds and conjures your worst fears into reality. No biggie.

Except with Boscha and her crew of bullies around and feeling braver than ever, this Grom might not be as simple as they all hoped. Especially when Hunter discovers that being the reincarnated container of hundreds of years of Golden Guards' fears is a bad thing to be around a fear demon.

Clone Wars

and through the spaces of the dark by blackkat (+ podfic)

Jon's attempts to avoid a war he wants no part in are ended when Dark Woman drags him to Coruscant and straight to a posting with the Guard. He intends to keep his head down and do his work, but the mysteries around the Guard - and Fox - immediately have him in out of his depth and on uncertain ground.

Nine Worlds / The Lays of the Hearth Series

Friday Keeps Coming Next by rattyjol

Cliopher's first morning with the Sun-on-Earth was everything he could have dreamed of, until it wasn’t.

or: Cliopher and his Radiancy break time. Again.

soon, they said, if not today by Ariaste

Cliopher passes the Imperial exams on the first try.

It changes everything.

one for sorrow, two for joy by Ariaste

The Emperors of Astandalas did not have daemons.

Cliopher knew this could not, technically, be true. Thinking this thought, even in the quietest whisper in his deepest heart of hearts, was undeniably treason, but…. facts were facts: The Emperors of Astandalas, though worshipped as gods on earth, were each of them born a human being before they were apotheosized by the crown and by law and custom. Every human being had a soul; therefore, every human being had a daemon.

So the Emperors of Astandalas must have had daemons.

But by tradition and ritual and magic and taboo: The Emperors of Astandalas did not have daemons.

you laugh and you gleam with that roguish air by lindsayraindrops

Notorious rebel-poet Fitzroy Angursell is captured and brought to the Palace of Stars. Cliopher... copes.

(A reunion.)

with a winged heart by celebros

"Cliopher. Cliopher. Cliopher."

I blink. It's Conju, standing with his hands on my shoulders, and I go to answer him and realize that I am already speaking, babbling, and Franzel is behind him, wringing his hands and looking near tears. I try to focus on what I'm saying, but it's like a stream, light and splashing past me, too quick to hold, not enough to catch, somehow, somehow –

(A few weeks before the start of the viceroyship ceremonies, Kip finds himself the unwitting recipient of a truth serum)

The Virtue of Being True by electropeach

"You're under an enchantment, Cliopher. The good news is that the protections his Radiancy has placed on you have shielded you; the bad news is that the protections that block the spell are also reflecting it, meaning that instead of you it affects everyone who comes near you. You may have noticed an unusual propensity for candor in your vicinity today?"

A reverse truth serum plot leads to Cliopher having a very strange day.

even a cat may look at a king. by mage-pie (looselipssinksubs) (Note: This fic is marked as abandoned, but it has some really great scenes that it's still worth a read imo)

"Hello, hello, hello!” said his Radiancy’s serval. She said it, in words, in Shaian, in a pleasant voice that came from her little snout quite naturally. “Good morning!” “Good…morning…?” said Cliopher, too shocked to control his voice. His mongoose got out of his bag and scrambled up onto his shoulder with an excited little squeak, her claws prickling through the tunic. “I have good news and bad news!” the serval continued happily. “Don’t you want to know what it is?” Cliopher could only stare. “Good news, I’ve figured out how to talk!” She lashed her tail excitedly, and finished with her voice full of enormous glee, “Bad news… I’ve figured out how to talk.”

The entire city of Solaara wakes up one day attached to magical animals that display each person’s innermost self with no regard for court protocol or even basic manners. It’s pure chaos… and that’s before the Emperor accidentally gives the soul-animals the power of speech.

#this round up is cramped full of nine worlds fic to the surprise of no one #hopefully the people i convinced to read hote now feel well fed #my posts #fic recs #weekly fic round up #sw recs #atla recs #toh recs #nine worlds recs

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katuschka · 1 year ago

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Scene One – Lampshade

Jake Kiszka x f!Reader (1st person narrative)

2.541 words

On my bedside table, I have a beautiful art deco lamp. When my lover leaves, he ties a scarf he wore for days on top. And when he’s gone I let my window open just a bit, the gentle breeze sets the scarf on motion, just like the waves in the tempestuous ocean. Once or twice, I swear, I could smell him in my dreams.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings: longing, alcohol consumption, penetrative sex, phone sex and masturbation, sex toys, phantasmagorical dream visions

Taglist

It’s been almost three weeks since I last saw him. I’m trying to convince myself that it’s not that bad, but the truth is that I always start missing him the moment he leaves. It’s a bittersweet feeling. I’m a grown, independent woman, engaging in my daily routines...or breaking them, just to stay sane.

But, it feels as if a part of my soul got attached to him. It travels with him wherever he goes and I feel it tugging at my insides every now and then. At first I thought it was just a side effect of the early stages of falling in love. I believed that it would get easier with time, but it never did. If anything, it only got worse.

It’s bearable during the day. My mind’s too preoccupied with my job, thank god. It’s not really much different from when he’s here. I still have my work to do and he’s busy too, until we finally meet at home to share a glass of wine or two. And then we fuck.

That’s why early evenings are the worst when he’s away. The house is just too big, too quiet, and my mind too restless. No sound of the strings being plucked greets me when I get home, no smell of savory dishes waiting for me in the oven or on the stove. I’m too lazy to do it myself, so I just order in, only to be reproached by him later that I’m not taking proper care of myself. My lover does all these things. My body’s spoiled with constant hugs and my cheeks peppered with warm kisses. So, on days like these, this is what his lady misses.

He knows that, so he tries to call anytime he can. It’s easier in between shows. He makes sure to call me around eight, even when it’s already 3 am where he’s at. Him being a night owl, this has never been a problem. Sometimes it’s just a quick hello to make sure I’m ok. Other times we talk for hours.

I didn’t expect anything like that today. He might call late or not at all. Probably not at all because today’s show was too important. He wanted me there, but I couldn’t go this time. I had an important project to finish and came home pleasantly exhausted. In a perfect world, we would celebrate our respective achievements together, but this world is not perfect, so I have to content myself with the fact that he is.

Well, not really, but I wouldn’t change a thing about him.

So, I just poured myself a glass of wine, climbed in bed early and tried to read, only to find myself checking the Instagram updates constantly. I don’t do it very often, because I’m not really keen on seeing hundreds of women swooning over him, but someone might be streaming the show, and I just couldn’t miss it.

Before he left, he fastened his scarf on my lampshade. That little piece of fabric is basically marinated in his scent – his strong, yet religiously comforting cologne mixed with the warm smell of him. I made sure to leave both the bedroom door and the window open, to create a slight draft. After three weeks, the scent had already faded a bit, but I still could get whiffs of him while falling asleep. Just like today. The livestream I found ended mid-show, but I wasn’t really paying attention anymore. I could feel my eyelids getting heavy long before the concert ended and without even bothering to turn off the light, I fell asleep with my phone still in my hand.

Except I couldn’t sleep. The thunderstorm in the distance and the billowing wind kept me awake. The sky was clear when I went to bed, so I couldn’t understand where the clouds came from. It didn’t matter anyway.

He was here. In my bed, sleeping. The intoxicating scent of clove and incense mixed with his musk wrapped around me like a second comfort blanket. The bedside lamp illuminated his disheveled hair and the clothes he had carelessly thrown over the armchair next to the bed. He was naked and all of the sudden, so was I.

It was our bedroom…and it wasn’t. The southern wall was gone, exposing us to the elements outside. Our garden turned to a stony shore, with the waves of a rough sea crashing upon it. Somewhere in the distance, I could see the storm raging.

I was feeling snug under the blanket, the warmth he elicited sheltering me from everything else around. I reached out to touch him. His skin was warm and dry and I snuggled closer to him from behind, inhaling the comforting aroma of his relaxed, sleeping body.

He never slept much. Sometimes I wondered how he could function after yet another sleepless night, and the dark circles under his eyes often worried me. But when he did fall asleep, he looked like a baby boy, his full lips slightly parted and his brows turned upwards. A man of paradoxes. He would fuck my brains out just moments after he spoon-fed me pistachio ice-cream. My doe-eyed barbarian. A romantic adventure, but a reptile too. Always offering something new. Just like the sky outside, with the full moon now illuminating the stormy sky. Where did it come from? It was hanging there in mid-air in front of the clouds, so big, so close it seemed that I could reach it with my fingers if I just stepped outside of the room.

But I didn’t want to. Instead, I slowly swirled around him like a serpent. I could feel him stir, his body responding to mine. It was a silent dialogue. He turned to me and pushed my chin upwards to nuzzle the soft skin behind my left earlobe. I could hear him murmur a prayer, the words of which I didn’t recognize, but I understood it anyway. I could feel his hand travel slowly down my belly, pulling my thighs apart, his palm sliding gently to my pussy and his middle finger slipping in between my folds. It’s been too long… My body reacted immediately. I arched my back and gasped for air as his moistened fingertip glided over my clit in slow circles. He kissed my shoulder and I could feel his parted lips stretch in a smile before he nibbled lightly on my skin covered with goosebumps.

He spread my thighs even more, like the petals of a blooming flower. I felt the weight of his body on mine as he shifted, obscuring my view, silencing the wind, his porcelain face dimming all the celestial lights behind him. He was coming home.

I cried out when he entered me, grabbing pillows on both sides of my head. He, too, yelped like a puppy, laying his head on my bosom just for a while, to gain his composure. I felt every exhale of his quickened breath on my skin, and enveloped his body with my limbs in a false promise to never let go.

He started moving inside me and I felt absolutely lightheaded, as if we were floating in an empty void. It got darker with each deep, long thrust until time and space around us disappeared and the only thing that tethered me to reality was the rhythm of his beating heart and the alluring sounds of his raspy moans. We moved together languidly, drunk in love, and the waves of pleasure running through my body intensified with each passing second. My fingernails dug into his skin…so deep until he suddenly stiffened and screamed in pain right next to left ear…

…nooo…at first I couldn’t tell where I was or who I was until the sound of my phone ringing on the pillow next to my head slowly brought me back to reality. I couldn’t believe it. What? Why? I looked at the screen and saw the name of the only person whom I could forgive for calling me right fucking now!

“Jake? Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I breathed out.

A moment of silence before the man on the other side responded. I must have sounded pre-t-t-y irritated. “Babe? Did I wake you up?”

Of course you did. What day is it? Oh yeah, it was slowly coming back to me. Madison Square Garden… “What time is it?” I breathed out.

“Almost one am here, your midnight. We just arrived at the hotel a moment ago, I haven’t even had a shower yet, I just had to hear…”

“Urgh,” I interrupted him with a groan, not in a reaction to what he said. My still not fully awakened body was just fighting with my mind as I tried to sit. I was still slightly disoriented and my coochie weeped. “I, uhm, I’m sorry baby. I just had a very intense erotic dream…the first one in years. And you just happened to interrupt it at the worst possible moment.”

“Oh, daamn!” he chuckled. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Not funny Jake. No one else but you could ever make me this wet. The sheets below me are literally soaked through.” I heard him inhale sharply on the other side. It took him a few more seconds to respond. “You’re wet?” It sounded a bit like a stifled groan, followed by him clearing his throat. Poor Jake, he was so taken aback by my response that Oliver had to take over. “Thaths probably because I was absolu-te-ly on fire tonight, my love! Telepathy must be one of my many superior powers. Now I need to clean the mess…”

“What do you mean?”

“Phone sex, obviously.”

I laughed. Nah, I’m not a fan. I love his voice, don’t get me wrong, but it couldn’t possibly make up for all the stuff that my subconsciousness flooded my brain with just a moment ago. Also, I’ve always found the idea of phone sex strangely disconcerting. We could do the most obscene stuff face to face without even batting an eye, but to be describing to him how I’m touching myself? No, thank you. I’d be embarrassed. Don’t know why. That’s just how it is, And that’s what I told him.

“Oh come on, let’s try it.” Jake was back. “Besides, it’s a mutual obligation now. I’m already hard.”

I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. “Ok Jake,” I crooned monotonously, “what are you wearing?”

“Oh GOD!” he moaned theatrically. “You sound so sexy when you’re bored. Mmmmm.”

I laughed again, in earnest. “Sorry,” I chuckled. “Ok, let’s try it. But I’m not going to describe what I’m doing. You tell me what to do.”

“Deal.”

I heard his sheets rustle as he shifted on his bed, which meant he already had me on speaker, so I did the same. I adjusted the pillows, stripped off my babydoll and tried to find a comfortable position. “Ok Jake, I’m ready.”

“Good girl. Now, close your eyes and cup your breasts. Let your thumbs draw slow circles around your nipples. No pressure.” His voice suddenly sounded huskier than before.

“Are you jerking off?” And then I heard it. The unmistakable sound of his fist sliding rhythmically up and down his cock. Of course he was.

“You can’t blame me sweetheart,” he breathed out. “I got here, still full of adrenaline from the show, only to hear you tell me that I was fucking you in your dreams. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

The sound of his heavy breath made my pelvic muscles contract and my heartbeat quicken. I licked my fingertips and let my hand slide between my legs, trying to ease the ache. “Talk to me Jake. Forget the nipples. Guide my fingers.”

“Who’s impatient now?” He let out an involuntary moan, swallowed harshly and continued: “Squeeze your clit between two fingers, scissor-like. Now rub from side to side and gently pull.”

I knew what he meant. His technique was completely different from mine and effective in its own way. I never tried to recreate it before. I did now, and it all suddenly came back to me. The dream, his touch, his dick, stretching me, fucking me, our loins dancing together to the rhythm of our heartbeats…

“Not enough,” I whined. “I need more, Jake.”

“Ok, time for Mini Me.”

That was yet another thing my lover did for me. We found a company that makes custom dildos using castings of real customers. Now, a cold piece of silicone can never compete with the real jake, but it was the next best thing whenever I needed to release the tension after a long day. I loved the shape of it. It was mine. I opened the drawer and reached for the toy. “Now what?”

“Ride me,” he groaned.

“How am I supp…”

“Let’s pretend we fell off the bed.”

“What?”

“Off the bed! Now!” he commanded. I climbed off the bed and attached the dildo to the wooden floor. “Mini Me’s ready. What now?”

“Now sit.”

I did as I was told. I got on my knees, placed the tip between my folds and slowly slid all the way down. Our roles reversed for a brief moment as I was now guiding him through. I heard him spit into his palm and groan with relief. It was his time to take the reins again. “Move,” he rasped. “Grab your hips and pretend it’s me. Set the pace, but tell me.”

I started moving my hips in a slow, sensual rhythm, while whispering up and down and up and down to him. I was now close to my bedside table, the fragrant scarf only a few feet from me. I closed my eyes. The illusion was almost perfect.

“That’s my girl,” he moaned. “Do you want to go faster?”

“No, this is fine.”

“Ok, continue baby. Let me hear you.”

We continued like that for several minutes, eyes closed, listening to each other. I could hear that he was close as his low moans turned to high-pitched whimpers. My thighs started shaking and I had to catch hold of the bedside table to ease the tension in my legs. I opened my eyes and that’s when I saw it. The multi coloured lampshade. As I was moving, so were the colorful lights before my eyes. It was like being there, under the stage lights, as I was listening to my man. The most beautiful song. It overwhelmed my senses and I came, screaming. From the haze of my own high, I heard him finish shortly afterwards.

I wanted to hear every detail of his show, and he wanted to know about my project, but we were both already too exhausted, so he promised to call me again in the morning. I knew he would, because that’s what my lover does.

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @klarxtr @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @GVFstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction

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saras-almanac · 1 year ago

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Being under the assumption that both Eddie’s and Bobby’s storylines will feature heavily in the last few episodes of the season with fallout and some consequences set up for season 8, I have some thoughts about what I want to see for the show since I’m procrastinating doing anything today…

Bobby – Having to actually physically face someone from the fire, I want that to be a big sign for Bobby to actually start working through his trauma and guilt in a way that doesn’t necessarily lead to a potential relapse story, but some tension with Athena because she can’t understand what he’s going through, how he feels really (similar to when he was helping that drunk driving woman after the pileup from Blindsided). Another thing I want is to see him taking more of an active role in his AA meetings—I want him to really start focusing on that so he can have friends outside of people he’s Captain of, plus it’ll help set up what his endgame should be: focusing on his meetings and helping people who have been at or are at rock bottom because he is someone who can really understand. And he doesn’t need to be a first responder to still help.

Athena – I literally just want her to interact more with Buck. (Though I literally want Buck to interact with everyone so much) If his apartment does burn down or he moves, maybe Athena offers him to stay at their place since Maddie and Chimney are dealing with their own stuff, Eddie’s off on his own, and it’s a bit too soon to fully move in with Tommy). But just imagine the talks they could have over tea late at night, both of them being night owls. They could talk about their careers, how to know when to keep trying for advancement or when it’s okay to be content where you’re at. Plus let’s say Athena gets drafted to help on a case of some sort, bringing home some files along with her notes, only to wake up in the morning to see Buck on his third cup of coffee and a full red string makeshift pinboard set up on the table going through all the potential theories. (Athena wants to be annoyed but also, maybe he’s on to something? And it’s not like he went out and started doing his own sleuthing and digging through someone’s trash so… )

Buck – Obviously next season I just want him and Tommy to still be together and their big storyline is working on continuing to build their relationship, especially allowing Buck to really be there for Tommy in a way that we’ve already seen Tommy do for Buck. I want their relationship to be settled and steady, even with the bumps and hiccups, but ultimately something that settles Buck so he can really focus on his career and what he wants outside of being a firefighter. (Obviously my endgame for Buck is being Captain at a different firehouse, or well on his way to actually being Captain). But there’s so much angst and humor to be had in the background where Buck/Tommy doesn’t have to take up too much space. Obviously the angst of if Tommy gets hurt or just learning about his past (which I have lots of thoughts about) and Buck learning to cope with that, still growing and getting better at direct communication. Which could lead into a funny runner in an episode where Buck goes around asking everyone (Bobby, Athena, Maddie, Chimney) how they handle it when their partner is hurt and how is the best way for him to comfort Tommy after a rough shift because he obviously wants to do it the best way possible because Tommy is the best and always seems to know what to do and Buck just wants to be the same for him—only for him to get his real answer from Karen (because I also want more Buck with Karen and Buck and Hen being siblings next season). Plus Buck could be in random scenes because he’s obviously getting kicked out of Bobby and Athena’s house at least twice a week for their roleplaying nights that Buck doesn’t want to really ask about but accidentally knows too much about, which also leads to him showing up at May’s one night when everyone else is at work or busy and they have that weird “do you know what I know about mom and dad” conversation about what their parents are getting up to. (Plus leaning into May and Buck developing a relationship could also show us a lot of both of those characters because it’d be in different roles than we’ve seen them—May as the younger sister, Buck as the older brother) Plus I absolutely need to see Buck and Carla being friends again.

Tommy – I absolutely want him to stick around and for them to start filling in the gaps of his life a bit more because he is a really friendly person and has buddies and people to hang out with, but he’s also really lonely and I think that’s why jumped all in with his friendship with Eddie and putting his best foot forward with Buck. Just want him around lol

HenRen – My most beloved ladies. I just want them to keep going and having them face outside challenges together, as a team. So next season could be them wanting to officially adopt Mara but it’s their first adoption (where the kid is not a baby) and they want to do this right, not making Mara feel pressured or like she has to accept this. Obviously them juggling Mara and their still complicated feelings about Denny reconnecting with Nathanial behind their backs is a really good story for them, and then what happens if they get more kids, or another case similar to Mara where it’s a slightly older child and it upsets the balance a bit more? I just love the idea of them as foster parents and want to keep exploring that, even if it is “repetitive” because it’s wonderful to see such amazing parents who are actively trying to be the best they can be and making sure to put their kids first. (Endgame for them, adopting a baby girl, which doesn’t make them love their other children less, but it’d be a really nice full circle moment of them with Denny and Nia, to this full-scale family) Would also love to see Karen interacting a bit more with people—I think at least starting with Chimney and Buck would be a really quick and easy way—Buck could be babysitting a bit, coming over for game nights, showing up randomly. Just a way to start getting Karen more featured because she is literally sunshine and I think it’d be really cool to see her talking about her job and Buck’s excitement and how he’d be super interested in it. (And maybe she’s starting to question if she wants to stay at her job, now with the kids and she’s not sure if she’s as excited about it anymore, or maybe she hasn’t fully been herself at work since the explosion… anything for Karen that’s not sad or too angsty because I can’t handle it. Or one of her brothers comes to stay for an undisclosed amount of time causing hijinx.)

Madney – Oh my god… These two need much less angst and just pure happiness forever. But obviously, that’s not going to happen. So what I would love to see is their storyline centered around the next steps for their family, namely whether or not they want more kids. Jee was a happy accident and they’d never not want her, but it does bring up the question of do they want more children? They both have some issues surrounding parental relationships, and while they’ve been working through them and are incredible parents themselves, would they feel ready or able to have another child or more children? Not to mention physically, for Maddie, would she be willing and able to put herself through that again? I don’t know. It’s something that could really give them a lot of meat in a story while not being needlessly overdramatic—Like my hopes for HenRen, I want them to face things as a couple and still support each other.

Eddie – I need him to be getting help. I want to see this story completely blow up in his face because he doesn’t really have a lot of storylines that deal with the fallout of his actions. And this will hopefully be something that is just him making the worst possible decisions ever and then seeing him lash out at people would be peak writing for this character, to watch him build himself back up and really allow him to have relationships outside of Chris and Buck. I know they’re all friends, but Eddie literally doesn’t really interact with anyone else. Would love to see him and Buck on the outs for a bit so they could both have scenes with some other people. Plus I’d love this story to lead to a happily single Eddie, realizing that he doesn’t need to have a partner just for Chris’s sake and that he’s not really interested in dating right now, despite the fact it feels like everyone in his life (his family) keeps pushing that on him. He honestly needs to do a lot of work on himself to be ready and able to be in a romantic relationship because Eddie is actually the worst in relationships—and whether that’s only because he’s still dealing with Shannon’s death and the way he’s clearly romanticized their past or because he genuinely doesn’t want to date or doesn’t know how to date, we can explore. I want to know more about Eddie because from the beginning he’s basically just been Single Dad Veteran and I don’t feel like they’ve really given him much else until this season. Let Eddie be alone so we can actually learn who he is more before he gets into another relationship—or crazier yet, allow for Single Representation Eddie where he ultimately decides he’s happier alone and doesn’t need anyone.

Josh – My endgame for Josh is obviously him taking over Sue’s position at the Call Center—which would obviously lead to Maddie officially taking over Josh’s spot. But like Buck, I want Josh to have a little more stability in his life so he has stuff outside the call center to help balance himself when he does take on that role. Could be a really great way to sort of mirror Buck and Josh—both of them knowing what they want to do and being really great at it but having no real idea of what to do if that’s taken away. Josh sort of stumbled into this job and excelled at it immensely, but sort of at the expense of his own personal life (plus the trauma of his last “official” experience with dating). Whereas Buck’s never really set aside his personal life for his job but hasn’t ever really found that balance of both with someone who really gets him. So there could be a lot to explore with them as an option. I just want to see a bit more of Josh and maybe he gets a boyfriend or at least starts to date again.

Ravi – I have no idea what I want for him other than for him to be around. In my ideal endgame, he’s obviously taking over Buck’s role at the 118, so maybe just keeping him involved in the crew more. Maybe he has a big dramatic storyline for season 8, dealing with his past or getting injured or showing how he withdraws very quickly. I don’t know he’s sort of a blank slate so they could really do anything with him. I just want to see him around more.

Basically I just have a lot of thoughts and wanted to write them all out here because why not.

#911 abc #evan buckley #bucktommy #henren #madney #bathena #bobby nash #athena grant #chimney han #maddie buckley #hen wilson #karen wilson #tommy kinard #josh russo #ravi panikkar #911 thoughts

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imtrashraccoon · 2 years ago

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This one was slightly tricky to write and I spent several days just writing dialogue whenever I was able to lol. Oh well, it's still something I'm proud of.

By the way, I think I'm going to call this "Have Some Empathy, Dear" and I have already started posting it on AO3. Some of you have already found it lol! There's additional lore bits that I'll probably post over there if you're curious.

CW: Not sure if this is needed, but there is some mentions of toxic family dynamics in this chapter. Classic family favorites one child over the other and makes negative comments about them as well.

@owl-bones

First Day & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Horror - Romance

Word Count: 2,087

You'd seen Axe a few times ever since the day you met him in the forest. Somehow, he'd figured out where you lived but had completely dodged the question when you asked how. You kind of just let it go after that as it was nice hanging out with someone after a long day of work.

Yeah, a smart person would've avoided the obvious red flags... Not that you weren't smart, maybe just selectively blind.

He seemed to be a genuinely nice guy, despite the mildly unsettling habits he had, like the fact that he tended to stare at you for long periods of time. It was like he had scary dog energy but without all of the bite, at least towards you anyways.

Today was a you day. No errands that needed to be run, no one requiring you to be at work, and no chores to do around the house. It was just you and the latest episode of your favorite historical romance show. The last episode had ended on a cliffhanger and you were dying to see if Madam Fratchurine accepted Duke Von Gossimer's proposal or not.

You were only halfway through the episode, without a clear answer to the 'Will they, won't they?' question, when a sharp knocking sounded on your front door. Pausing the episode with a frown, you emerged from your blanket cocoon to see who was outside.

Taking a peek through the peephole, your mild annoyance quickly evaporated when you recognized the person on the other side. Barely sparing a thought on how presentable you were, you unlocked and swung open the door to greet them.

"Axe! Um, hi! I, uh, didn't expect to see you today..."

He quirked a bonebrow when you nearly stumbled over your words and his smile morphed into one of mild amusement. You could feel how warm your cheeks had grown all of the sudden and glanced down at your socks.

Clearing your throat, you tried to start over. "Sorry, why don't you come in? Although I should warn you that I've been relaxing all day so the apartment might be a bit messy." You moved to the side so he could step over the threshold rather than remain standing awkwardly outside your door.

Axe chuckled and his eyelight briefly flicked past you into the hallway. " 's no problem, i didn't let you know beforehand. sorry about that..." he responded. He nearly had to duck his skull in order to come inside but thankfully the doorframe was still a few inches taller than he was.

You gathered up the fuzzy blanket you'd been snuggling in and quickly folded it up to make the room slightly less messy. While you were at it, you straightened the sofa cushions and deposited your blanket on the coffee table for now.

"heh, i didn't think you'd be the type to watch sappy stuff like this," Axe commented.

"Huh?" You glanced over and realized he'd noticed the still paused episode. "Ah, well... It's a bit of a...guilty pleasure of mine."

He glanced at you out of the corner of his left eye socket with a look that seemed to suggest amusement. You flushed and quickly looked away from him.

"I suppose you could say I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic..." you muttered. "The idea of finding your one and only? It was just a thing I fixated on when I was younger I guess."

"nothin' wrong with that," Axe said quietly. "a lot of folks look forward to meetin' someone special like that. soulmates or somethin'... i don't really care, but i suppose it would be nice. i'm sure it would all work out though."

You nodded slowly, "I guess so... Honestly, I kind of envy how carefree you are about it."

"well, i'm not in a hurry to settle down right now," he responded with a shrug.

He was right in a way. There was no hurry to find someone and you could always focus on your career in the meantime. Although growing up, there was always the pressure to find someone quickly so you could be taken care of and give your parents a couple of grandchildren. It was "The least you could do," your mother had said.

Of course, you'd then struggled with a string of bad relationships ever since getting out of high school. Not only had you gotten attached really fast whenever a guy ever showed you any modicum of attention, but you also weren't great at standing up for yourself. Your relationships never lasted longer than a few months and while you'd since learned what mistakes not to make, you were starting to wonder if you should swear off dating altogether.

"so, uh, other than shows like this," Axe motioned to the tv, bringing you out of your thoughts again. "what else do ya like to do?"

"Well, I read occasionally and have a small collection of fantasy type books. I used to be part of my school's chess club but I haven't actually had anyone to play against in a while."

You glanced around the living room before your gaze focused on two of your plants on the window sill. "Oh, I try to keep a few plants alive but I don't think I have much of a green thumb. I also like to press flowers or colourful leaves in the fall. They make some pretty collages but I have to make time to actually put them all together."

He nodded approvingly and studied the plants for a moment. "What kind are they?" he asked.

You pursed your lips in thought while you tried to remember. "The one on the left is a yellow Cala Lilly and I think the other is called a Christmas Cactus although it hasn't bloomed since last year. I'm not sure why as it has sun and I haven't forgotten to water it." You shrugged and added, "It's otherwise thriving so I guess I'm doing something right."

"can't say i'm familiar with either of those types so i can't give ya any advice," Axe hummed softly. "i'm more familiar with the kinds of plants ya can cook with, like vegetables or herbs."

"Do you like to cook then?" you asked.

"i do," he answered with a slight nod. "it's somethin' i just really enjoy doin' i guess..." His singular eyelight was still focused on the plants by your window as he trailed off.

When he didn't elaborate further, you couldn't help but feel a bit awkward. His tone of voice seemed to hint at a deeper meaning to what he'd said and you didn't know if you should ask or not.

So, rather than potentially making things more awkward, you decided not to ask and instead to talk about something else. "You know, I like cooking as well. Although, I really only cook for myself so I have limited experience."

Well that certainly seemed to make him perk up. Axe turned to actually look at you and his eyelight flicked over you in a way that you thought was him sizing you up.

"limited experience or not, it's still an important skill to know. did ya teach yourself or...?"

You shook your head, "No, at least not completely... I learned the basics from my mother but everything else I had to learn through good ol' trial and error." You rubbed the back of your neck and quietly added, "Granted, it was mostly by error..."

Axe let out a short chuckle at that. There was clear amusement written across his skull once again, yet it didn't feel like he was making fun of you.

"that's good, sometimes the best way to learn is to actually try your hand at somethin'. or at least it's the best way i know to figure things out." He lightly scratched the right side of his skull, although you noticed how his phalanges nearly hooked into the empty socket as he did so.

"Maybe we could cook something together sometime then...?" you asked.

To your surprise, he nodded vigorously and his permanent grin quirked wider at the idea. "sure, that could be fun. 's not every day i have the chance to cook with others."

"Awesome!" you exclaimed and gave a bit of a victory fist pump. Axe chuckled again although it was more natural sounding this time, like he hadn't expected you to react with this much enthusiasm.

This conversation made you remember something all of the sudden that you had to share. "You know what's funny? One of the things my mother used to always tell me was, and I quote, 'You gotta find a man who can at least cook because you certainly can't!'" With an awkward chuckle, you added, "In hindsight though, I realize she wasn't actually joking..."

That had been a bad thing to say apparently. His expression flickered between discomfort and concern before settling on a slight frown. You could feel a familiar pit form in your stomach as you realized that you'd basically stuck your foot in your mouth.

Axe let out a heavy sigh through his nasal bone and couldn't seem to meet your gaze all of the sudden. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other before finally muttering a response.

"your mother probably didn't have a guy who could pass for a slasher villian in mind..."

You felt bad for saying something so forward in the first place as it had clearly made him uncomfortable. So you resorted to damage control in an effort to ease tensions once again.

"Well, uh... I guess you're right... She also told me that drinking coffee stunts your growth, which I know isn't true now, but it still frustrated me when I was younger."

Well that got him to chuckle at least. He patted your shoulder in a way that was probably supposed to be reassuring, although it did feel slightly patronising seeing as how tall he was.

"are ya sure that isn't true?" he asked in a tone that sounded like it was supposed to be sassy, although his deep voice did just the opposite.

You crossed your arms and huffed in annoyance. "It isn't! I don't even drink that much coffee compared to other people..."

"what other things did she tell you? any other gems?"

You frowned and shook your head. "Nothing very helpful... She used to be obsessed with my weight growing up and never kept any snacks in the house. If I ever mentioned I was hungry, she'd just tell me to go eat a handful of almonds or something."

You sighed and dropped onto the couch. Steepling your chin with your hands, you tried to take deep breaths to avoid getting all worked up over what had happened in the past. You felt bad that you'd nearly just dumped a bunch of your own trauma on Axe when he was basically a complete stranger.

The cushions shifted as he sat down next to you. You glanced over at him and rather than annoyance like you'd expected, he looked slightly concerned. You very rarely talked to anyone about your childhood as they never understood and brushed off your mother's rules as well-meaning. He didn't seem to be like any of the others though and you started to wonder if he actually understood you.

"I'm...not on good terms with my family...in general," you muttered.

He seemed surprised if the way his left eye socket widened was any indication. "how come?" he asked quietly. "family's pretty important, at least to me anyways..."

You shook your head slowly. "I really don't want to get into all of it right now... But, the short of it is my mother was basically what some people call an almond mom and my older sister was seen as the golden child. I was basically dirt in comparison to her and my entire family favorited her."

"i don't really understand..." Your heart sank but Axe continued speaking before you could try to explain. "but i can tell this is a sore spot for ya, so i won't push ya to explain anythin' else, okay?"

You gave him a stiff smile out of sheer relief. "I appreciate it..." you responded with a sigh.

In an attempt to talk about something lighter, you tried to change to subject. "Do you have any family?" you asked.

His skull visibly brightened, somehow, at your question and he grinned warmly. "yep, i got a younger brother and he's the coolest dude i know..."

#badsansuary #raccoons drabbles #undertale #horrortale #horrortale sans #horror sans x reader #axe #reader #female reader #oneshot #have some empathy dear

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jacksdinonuggets · 9 months ago

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Caregiver Burnout

Summary: After taking care of Luz for a while, Amity starts to get caregiver burnout. She's in desperate need of some little time but doesn't want to make Luz feel bad. So Em sets up a plan to help her out, involving a mama owl lady

Amity couldn’t wait until school ended for the day. The whole week has been insanely stressful. There were so many tests and assignments, her anxiety acted up and almost made her puke in class, Boscha was being a bitch as usual, and sleep was becoming very hard. Luz had also been feeling very little lately due to stuff at human school and needed someone to look after her since her mom was working a lot. So Amity would help her regress through texting. Not like the tamagotchi stuff. Like actual texting. Alador had managed to connect Luz’s phone to the scroll servers so that they could still talk.

She was just really hoping that she could relax today. It was Friday and no teachers gave her homework and she had no plans after school. So she was pretty happy on her walk home. But then she got a text from Luz.

‘Hey, Sorry to ask again, but can you just chat with me while I regress?’

Amity really wanted to say no. She was so exhausted and hadn't regressed in a month. But even the thought of saying no to Luz was impossible. She just couldn’t say no. Even though Luz had told her that it was fine if she was getting caregiver burnout, Amity refused to say no whenever she asked. She had only been online caregiving for luz every other day for a week and a half! There's no way she should be getting burnout already. She was just being weak and a bad girlfriend.

‘Yeah, of course, hun,’ She quickly texted back.

On her walk to her house, she chatted with Luz as she regressed. She desperately just wanted to put her scroll away and never look at it again, but then Luz would feel abandoned. She hadn’t even realized she started spiraling a little and zoning out until Luz called her and her ringtone went off.

“Yes, Luz?” She picked up the phone

“Mama, you stopped texting… you otay?” Luz asked. Amity chewed her lip, contemplating whether to tell her the truth or not. She really wanted to, but it would make Luz feel like a burden. She couldn’t let Luz down like that. The kids at her human school were already making her feel like a burden and a bad person. Amity wasn’t going to add to that.

“I’m…okay, sweetie. Sorry, I just uh, walked into an area with a bad signal,” She said, trying to sound upbeat, “Why don’t you tell me your Azura headcanons again?”

Amity continued to walk home and talk with Luz while she did so. When she stepped into into the manor, Em saw how exhausted she looked when she walked into the kitchen and grabbed an apple-blood Energy drink. However, since she was on the phone, Em didn’t say anything. It would be rude to interrupt a phone call.She would just have a talk with her little sister later.

After dinner, Em walked into Amity’s room. She was reading a book in bed and had her scroll next to her. The elder blight sat down on the bed.

“Hey, sweetie, can you put down the book?” She spoke to her in a soft voice. Amity sighed and set it down.

“Your stress levels have been high again, Mittens,” Em stated instead of asked. All of the signs were there. She saw through them very easily. There was no need to ask if they were high.

“N-No they’re not,” She rebutted.

“Yes, they are. I see you taking nausea vials to school, you haven’t been sleeping right, and you had a borderline anxiety attack the other day. Not to mention that you’ve wet the bed 2 times this week.” Em declared. She saw Amity’s face go bright red at the mention of her accidents, but didn’t care. She needed to hear it.

“It’s fine, Em. I can handle it. I’ll take naps and stop bringing the nausea stuff,” Amity said.

“Is this because you’ve been caring for Luz lately?” Emira asked. She knew that caregiving could be quite taxing. But Amity was a little. She wasn’t used to taking care of people.

“Just get out! I’m fine!” Amity bellowed, face growing red with anger, but didn’t touch her ears. Yup, that confirmed it. Whenever Amity raised her voice or everything but her ears went red, it usually meant whatever she asked, was the answer.

Emira, not wanting to upset her little sis further, sighed and got up, walking towards her own room. She pulled out her scroll and made a few calls.

The next day, after getting 4 hours of sleep, Amity woke up to Em knocking on her door and entering.

“Morning Mittens! Luz wants you at the owl house and I gotta pick up my new BGC shirt from Eda, so I’ll be walking with you,” She said.

Amity groaned a little, wanting to get some more sleep, but seeing as it was 10 am, she knew she had to get up. After getting changed and eating some breakfast, she saw Em at the door, with a backpack, waiting for her.

“Umm, what's with the bag?” Amity asked, grabbing Ghost.

“It’s just some shirts Eda tried getting me to sell. No one wanted Bad girl Coven branded jorts so I’m giving them back to her,” Em explained.

Amity just shrugged, not thinking anything of it and they started to fly towards the owl house. It was pretty chilly out since it was getting close to fall but luckily the fly wasn’t too long. Once they landed, Eda opened the door.

“Ah, there’s the Blights.” Eda said. She saw Em carrying the bag and stepped towards her.

“Hey, you need a hand?” She took off her prosthetic arm and waved it in her face with a bright grin. Em gave her a look.

“Alright, alright. I get it, it’s corny.” Eda popped her hand back on. Even though she loved her hook, she had a feeling it could be a little dangerous for what they were doing. Besides, the prosthetic was fine. She just had some troubles moving the fingers, but Alador was working on it. He was the one that designed it.

Once everyone was inside, Hooty closed the door and Em placed the bag on the couch.

“Where’s Luz?” Amity asked, realizing she wasn’t there.

“Ah, she won’t be here. She’s helping her mom out at the clinic,” The owl lady said.

“What? Then why am I here?” Amity was utterly confused.

“Because you are gonna have some little time and relax,” Em explained.

“But I don’t need t-”

“Nope! I ain’t hearing it. Your sister explained what was happening and even Luz called me to make sure you were okay.” Eda started. Em suddenly opened the bag, and inside were her two favorite stuffies, her bottle, her paci, and 3 disposable nappies.

“Come on, kid. You haven’t regressed in a month. You need some little time,” Eda placed her real hand on Amity’s shoulder.

“B-but what if Luz regresses?! I need to be there for her,” Amity urged

“Luz will be with her mom today, she’ll be fine.” Em reassured her.

Even though Amity felt horrible for “making” Eda care for her, she really needed some little time. She was so tired and stressed out. She hesitated before reluctantly agreeing to regress.

“Alright, well, your big sissy needs to go now, she has a date to get ready for. Go say goodbye, kiddo,”

Amity stepped away for a moment to go give Emira a hug.

“I’ll pick you up before dinner, okay?” She told her baby sis. The little one nodded and watched her big sibby fly away on her palisman.

Once she and Eda were alone, Eda placed her paci in and started to help her get changed. It was clear that Amity had gone full baby mood. After all the stress and exhaustion, it made sense. She was babbling softly and drooling a little.

“Alright, baby, first things first, you’re gonna take a nap,” Eda told her, setting out the naptime mat. However, Amity whined when she was laid down.

“You don’t wanna go nini?” she asked. But Amity shook her head. She was really eepy and wanted to sleep.

“Then what’s wrong?”

It was hard for her to speak so instead of verbalizing her wants, she showed her with her stuffy that she wanted cuddles.

“Ohh, the baby wants cuddles?” Amity nodded. Eda picked her back up and got blankets and pillows set up on the couch. She laid down with the anxiety-ridden girl in her lap.

As they cuddled, Amity’s eyes slowly started to droop and she drifted off to sleep. Not wanting to bother the girl, Eda sat there the whole time, rubbing the girls back and playing with her hair. She didn’t care that her legs were asleep. The girl needed sleep and by golly, she was gonna help her sleep.

After 2 hours, Amity started to wake up from her nap. Eda didn’t notice as she, herself, wasn’t conscious anymore. So she tried to crawl off to not disturb her sleeping babysitter. However, as she was trying to crawl off, she took a tumblr to the floor. It didn’t hurt, but it really scared her. Being off balance was horrifying to such a small baby. She felt the urge to cry, so she did. She bawled, sitting on the floor of the living room.

Eda immediately woke up and saw the baby on the floor, crying. Her immediate reaction was to curse before picking her up, but she knew better than to curse in front of literal infants. Instead, she picked her up and started rocking and cradling her.

“Shh, it’s okay, mittens. Did you fall off?” She asked the baby. Amity nodded and snuggled up close, calming down quickly. Eda smiled and continued to hold her.

For the rest of the day, Eda watched over Amity. She was very patient and gentle with her. No loud noises, no over-stimulating activities. Everything was made to help her relax. She had a little trouble with drinking her milk and required some help but it was okay. Eda was more than happy to help out. Besides, she was Mama Eda, the Owl Lady, the most powerful and protective Caregiver on the boiling isles.

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