#I wanted to have the next poll be 'who's in the middle of the bed in the 3zun relationship' but I need to draw for that one.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS Height Poll: Who is (technically) the tallest character. Please remember that these polls are for fun!

[lives-in-midgard]

Finally, Back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: When you hear a loud noise in the middle of the night, you think someone is breaking into your apartment, turns out it's just Bucky who is back from his mission.

Word Count: 820

A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for helping me decide what to post, with voting on this poll. I hope you like it!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Being in a relationship with a superhero wasn’t always easy. Especially if you are a civilian and living a normal life. Well, actually it’s not that normal anymore since you started dating Bucky Barnes. Now you always have to worry when he is on a mission, but when he gets home, Bucky immediately drives to your apartment. Bucky loves you so much and so do you. You had been dating for a few months when you decided to move in together.

You love living with Bucky. From waking up cuddled up with him to going for a walk, cooking together and watching your favorite shows or movies together. Another thing you like to do is reading next to each other and then discuss what happened in the book.

You were currently cooking dinner, normally you would cook with Bucky, but this time you were cooking alone because Bucky was on a mission, which he had already been for three weeks. You weren’t sure where he was or when he would be back. You just knew that it was a dangerous mission and to protect you, Bucky didn’t want to tell you anything about it.

Before Bucky left, he promised you that he would come back home to you and you’re believing and hoping that it’s true and he will come back home soon.

You missed Bucky so much and felt so lonely without him. You started to miss him a lot and everything felt different when he wasn’t here. Especially coming home after work to an empty apartment and no one is waiting for you. Bucky also missed you so much and couldn’t wait to see again. He did his best on this mission, so that he could be home as quickly as possible.

It was in the middle of the night and you couldn’t sleep again. You missed Bucky’s arms around you and how he always gave you a kiss on the forehead before saying goodnight. After lying there for a while, you started to overthink and couldn’t get the idea out of your head that something might have happened to Bucky. You heard the wind outside and some strange noises. Suddenly you heard a loud bang, and someone mumbled something you couldn’t understand. You sat up in your bed and listened carefully. Suddenly you heard someone opening your apartment door.

Shit, someone broke into your apartment. You thought and reached for the gun, you put in the bedside table in case something happens. Bucky taught you how to use it, even though he hoped you would never need it. You stood up and took a deep breath. You had to be brave for Bucky.

You quietly opened the door to your bedroom a bit, held the gun in front of your body and then said loudly.

“Wherever you are, I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it!” You opened the door more and took a step out of your bedroom. Suddenly the light went on and you saw Bucky standing a few steps away from you.

“Doll.” He said softly.

“Bucky you’re home.” Tears began to form in your eyes as you watched Bucky walking closer to you. He gave you a soft smile and said.

“Yeah, I’m finally back home with my girl.” He looked at the gun and then back at you.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, doll.” Bucky said and then you realized that you still had the gun in your hands and got nervous.

“Let me take the gun, doll.” Bucky said and you nodded. Then he gently took the gun from your hand and put it in his back pocket. After that, Bucky opened his arms and pulled you into a hug.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more, sweetheart.” You don’t know how long you stood there, hugging each other and telling the other one how much you love and missed each other. After a while you turned away and Bucky placed his hand on your cheek and his metal hand on your back and pulled you into a passionate kiss. When the kiss ended, you smiled at each other and Bucky took your hand.

“Let’s go cuddle.” Bucky said and you giggled, which made Bucky smile. He kissed your forehead and then you went to your bedroom. Bucky changed into different clothes and laid down next to you. Then you laid your head on his chest and Bucky wrapped his arms around you.

You laid there for a while when Bucky suddenly broke the silence.

“Let’s go somewhere, just you and me.” You looked up at him with a smile and Bucky gently rubbed your back.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

Bucky and you then started talking about some places that you both have wanted to visit for a while and you can’t wait to see these beautiful places with Bucky. After a while, you nodded off in your boyfriend's loving embrace.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buckys-wintersoldier | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts

[ghoulphile]

janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | teaser

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 465 for the teaser, overall wordcount tbd ➥ overall warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap (i hc reader to be late 20s but i tried to leave it vague enough), cowgirl position, biting, hair pulling, choking, squirting, teasing, pining, lipstick kink, breast/nipple play, masturbation (m), porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, coop's pov to start - rest of the fic will be in reader's, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | "We really s-shouldn't - oh fuck - be doing this." ➥ notes | here's a teaser for the fic i took a poll on, some people wanted more info 😊 coop is a big dick dilf fite me. feedback is always appreciated ❤️ lmk if you want to be tagged feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist

Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.

Ugliest thing in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say.

It's not like being a Marine with a gun in hand, being told where to point and shoot, or an actor reading off a script. There's no guidebook, no crash course. These people aren't nameless threats coasts away or co-workers following a cue.

In fact, his 'enemies' aren't enemies at all.

They have names: Barb, so smart it hurts, and sweet little Janey, his very own North star. Sometimes looking at them rips open a hole in his chest that'll never close, edges jagged and sore. The phantoms of family, of happier times, found in the glint of a smile or a peal of laughter.

See, war's something he understands. Something he's good at.

But these domestic battlefields where he's gotta look his ex-wife in the face, and struggle to meet his daughter's eye? Barter this weekend and that holiday? To pay for the privilege of his child's presence (he does, he will, she's worth every goddamn cent he's ever made)?

To look down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman he loves staring back; he doesn't, can't, comprehend that. Because once upon a time, he was happy (with her) and life was sweeter than pie.

Now he's nothing but a washed up actor who struggles to land a call back let alone make his monthly alimonies. His marriage has failed, his reputation is in shambles, and his bank account is dryer than the Mojave.

Barb gets the house. He gets the dog.

And caught in the middle of it all is his little girl; the only thing he’s got left worth while. He wants to protect her, provide for her the way she deserves — only he seems to fall short every goddamn time.

The mistakes and missteps keep stacking up against him; such is his new life in all its raw, unglamorous glory.

Look how far the mighty fall.

Lucky for him — the first bright thing that's come his way in a long, long while — a sweet, young woman moves into the apartment next door. Of course, it isn't long before Janey takes a shine, always so friendly.

Thankfully, you're just as good with her.

It only makes sense you'd watch her when a gig runs late. Rustle up some grub and put her to bed whenever he slinks in through the door, stripped to the bone.

And if he takes himself in hand late at night, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress? Imagines the wide stretch of your lush mouth as you peer up at him from between his thighs when he cums hard?

Well, what you don't know won't hurt you.

After all, he promises to keep his hands to himself.

part 01 of full fic

[urbabyalli]

“Lost and Found”

ʚ pairing: dad!hoshi x mom!reader

ʚ genre: fluff, crack (not really)

ʚ warnings: none!

ʚ summary: your husband hoshi, and your son dohyun, are appalled by the absence of their favorite stuffed tiger, yoshi.

ʚ a/n: ik i was supposed to finish wonwoo’s fic first according to the poll i posted, but i genuinely have no motivation to finish it. anyways, pictures above are from pinterest!

ꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀ

“babeee,” your husband whined from upstairs. you yelled back with a ‘yes hoshi’ curious about what he was whining about.

“we need you,” hoshi answered referring to him and his son. “it’s urgent,” he added slightly in a state of panic.

with a sigh, you closed the book you were reading and made your way to the staircase. walking into your toddler’s room, you found hoshi seated in the middle of the carpet. legs spread wide (not like that) and your two year old, dohyun sitting on his thigh. your eyes scanned over the two boys making sure neither of them were hurt (they weren’t).

“what happened this time?” you questioned.

hoshi took a deep breath and then said, “yoshi is missing.” your husband was referring to dohyun’s tiger stuffed animal, which for some odd reason they both cherished very much.

“you can’t find yoshi?” you asked sitting down in front of the man.

“we looked everywhere and we can’t find him” hoshi rambled, “this is causing dohyunie a lot of distress.”

you inhaled through your nose, “are you sure you’re not the one in distress babe?”

“um no. i’m just concerned for my son who’s missing his emotional support animal,” he answered in the most unconvincing way possible.

you sigh, “where was yoshi last seen?” you asked almost as if you were a detective. hoshi gestures to dohyun to tell you where yoshi was seen last.

“in my bed mama,” the toddler points a finger in the direction of his bed.

with your eyes, you follow dohyun’s finger to his bed and notice that the plush was indeed no longer on his bed. “and you’re sure yoshi’s not in this room?”

“so sure babe. we’ve looked everywhere i swear!” hoshi insists.

“okay than he’s probably somewhere around the house. c’mon let’s go look for him.” you tell the boys, grabbing ahold of your son’s tiny hand.

it was like a treasure hunt, the three of you marching around the house as the treasure hunters, and yoshi being the treasure itself. thoroughly checking every room in your home, the animal was nowhere to be found. the living room? nothing. the kitchen? empty. the office? nada! it was truly like yoshi disappeared in thin air.

“wait,” you look at your boys, who seemed worn out from all the hunting. “we haven’t checked the laundry room yet. it has to be in there.”

“oh my god,” he says. “your right yoshi must be in there!” hoshi runs to the room which yoshi should be hiding in, completely leaving you and your son behind.

rolling your eyes at him, you lift dohyun into your arms and make your way to the room. catching up to your husband, you see him standing in the doorway looking absolutely stunned. wanting to see for yourself, you peer into the laundry room. low and behold, yoshi was indeed in the room. but the thing is, he was in possession of latte, your dog. the stuffed animal was perched right next to latte in his dog bed.

���kwon latte! you naughty dog! how could you take dohyunie’s yoshi?” your husband scolded the puppy, snatching the stuffy back. he handed yoshi back to the two year old in your arms, who seemed completely unfazed by the situation.

then picking up latte, “latte, if you wanted a stuffed animal like dohyun, you could’ve just asked me.”

[theoxenfree]

TINCTURE OF ACONITE

werewolf x "magic" practitioner!reader | 2.4k

a man is told about a dilapidated inn on the outskirts of the village that houses a practitioner of unsavory sorts. he seeks you out to find a cure for his affliction—lycanthropy. with blood on his hands, at the mercy of a fate of cruel uncertainties, he has no choice but to take on the task you give to him and the catch that comes with it: he must decide if he deserves to live or die.

warnings; dark fantasy, mentions of blood and mutilation, a very dark interpretation of lycanthropy, very evasive interpretation of what a "practitioner" is, mc smokes, theological discussion, derogatory insult (e.g. bitch), roughly proofread.

this is the first of my prompts fulfilled for my personal october writing project! this was also the prompt that won the first poll!

i would appreciate it enormously if y'all would please reblog + leave me feedback on this! particularly if you'd be interested in seeing this as a full story down the line!

From the hawk-nosed widow selling stale bread and wrinkled, gray potatoes with mysterious growths, he'd learned about a dilapidated inn fringing the northwest end of the village. There, she had said warily, with keen and wise eyes showing wide whites and tiny bloodshot threads, he would find the answers to everything he had never asked for.

He would find the Practitioner.

It took him less time than he thought to find his way across the village, away from the cursory and reluctant and distrustful looks as he lumbered through in his heavy boots and loose-fitting black tatters he'd sewn together himself time and time again. His face was haggard, skin wet and ashen, and he couldn't remember the last time he held a blade to shave his face, tame his long, dark hair.

To the townspeople, he must've looked like a wildman; uncivilized; belonging to the deep wood and meadows and smelling thickly of untouched nature, mud, and musk. Perhaps, now, he was just that because he also could no longer remember a time where he'd been welcome to sleep in a bed, ate a meal cooked and seasoned to be used with cutlery, allowed himself to be gripped by scalding water and bath salts, reveled the touch of another person.

Upon reaching the inn sometime later, a tiered, hulking structure which seemed to rot from the inside out; the middle of the massive thing bowing inward as though slowly being sucked underground—into hell, he was greeted at the entrance without ever having needed to knock.

“Second floor,” was all the older fellow said. A man with unhealthy grayness to his complexion that rivaled his own. All of the vigor, pink liveliness was long gone from his face and his eyes reflected nothing—not a want, a wish, a worry, or thought beyond remembering to move one foot after the next to keep locomotion.

He moved beyond the gaunt, wispy fellow who quietly closed the door, then shuffled off through another threshold leading elsewhere. He'd been instructed to go to the left, to the end of hall and through the door which faced him.

When he did this, the somnolent dreariness of the world outside fell away and he was sucked into silence filled with static. The room was sentient, almost, swirling with immense wafts of burning herbs, fragrant flora, dark tendrils of smoke emerging from wilted candle wicks and the cherry flickers at the tips of them.

“Well, aren't you a sad sight!” Your voice was deceptively upbeat in comparison to this room, this place. He noticed you seated in a high-backed chair padded in ripped red velvet, a large table stretched out before you and sprawled with many, endless things. “It isn't easy to find this place. Who told you about me?”

“The potato seller at the village.” He said.

You pressed a flat, metal tip between your lips and sucked in on some weird instrument, blowing out a profuse cloud of faint, purple smoke which smelled otherworldly and familiar.

“You mean the widow with the crazy eyes?”

“I…suppose so, yes.”

“She's crazy, you know?”

“She told me you'd be able to cure me.”

You smiled like he'd just told you an amusing joke, wooed you a bit in the process. He watched your teeth come out from behind your lips and clench down on the metal tip.

“Cure you? She wouldn't have used those words. She despises me and likes to think people she sends my way meet their death. What a vindictive old bitch. She’ll get hers one day.” You said, then gestured to the empty chair opposite the table to you. “I’m flattered you think so highly of me, though. We’ve only just met. But, I know a desperate man when I see one. I know a cursed man when I see one.”

The chair was uncomfortable, not at all wide enough, strong enough to bear his form but it did not collapse under his weight, only creaked and whimpered. You were observing him as casually as he would have had a friend a long time ago, with such little regard for safety, little fear of this brawny and moody stranger sitting across from you at a table with countless, shatterable objects.

It occurred to him after an awkward moment of silence (on his end, you were perfectly at ease), you were waiting for him to diffuse his anguish, his worries, his curse—why he was really here in this room with you now. Only, he wasn't sure where to start, nor what information he could give that you'd consider pertinent apart from the rest.

He'd forgotten how to speak to people during his long, lonely solitude as well, it seemed.

“The woman—the widow—she told me you're a practitioner in the Devil’s Magic. Is that true?” he mumbled, for one second considering taking one of the hundreds of baubles on the table to turn over in his hands. “I do not much believe in any of that. The workings of any god or evil, it isn't related to my affliction. But, I want to know if you're actually capable of curing me, or a charlatan scamming the poor to be even poorer.”

You exhaled more of the luxurious smoke from your strange pipe before finally setting it aside to take up a round flask made of clear glass. Despite it appearing empty, something unseeable sloshed within—water, perhaps—and it smelled foul when you uncorked it.

“Devil’s Magic,” you seemed to consider his wordage with a derisive smile, but he had a feeling this wasn't about him. “That old wretch is something else. Handsome Sir, I am a lot of things and no one important. I am no witch, wizard, magician, druid, and I am certainly no charlatan. I might be able to help you with your case of lycanthropy.”

Hope reignited in his eyes, still but a dull flicker waiting to be snuffed as it had many times before, yet he always dared to feel this way whenever a possibility arose.

“I—never mentioned my affliction,” surprised as he was, he now knew he'd made the right choice spending his afternoon finding the inn rather than continuing onward for the next town. “How can you be so certain that's what I suffer—”

“A man of your destitute and good manners aren't the types who get stricken with vampirism or cursed by hags. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, I'll bet. A good man, loyal to a fault to an… owner? An employer? A lover, perhaps?”

You were staring over his face searchingly at the end, carefully winding your wrist with the nauseating, invisible concoction in your hand. For a moment, there was nothing but silence as he considered the meaning behind your exact curiosity, trying to pry an answer from you with a stern look he'd used to terrify and award himself some small, scarce comforts.

When you didn't falter, he slouched deeper into his seat, clearly defeated by your eccentricity and dumb fearlessness.

“Thousands of miles away, I once served a Duke and a Duchess as their guard. One night, I was sent out as the baleful cries of some beast had sent My Lady into a frenzy, my My Lord into a fit of rage. Those lands were cursed, everyone was well aware, but I've never thought above my status and so I went.

“The night was all around me. Something lurked in the trees, perhaps lost souls, perhaps something else. The mist moved as though alive, a limb, an arm, an extension of the forest itself and I could scarcely see. But then, I saw it: an enormous, bent creature in a man’s torn clothes. It had the vicious face of a wolf, yet it could walk upright like a man and when I gave chase, it could sprint unlike anything I'd ever seen.”

You were leaning to one side of your throne now, an arm bent on top of the armrest while you swiveled the bottle, still watching him as though he were simply divulging some asinine discontent.

“I—” he paused, breathing arrested behind the rise of ugliness in his throat, something that tasted as vile as it was to remember.

Until then, he had been speaking to you quietly and sullen, like a man resolved to his fate. But now, he listened to his own voice fracture, quiver, and croak. Beyond that, his face and ears burned, aching from embarrassment, every emotion he had belittled himself into hiding away.

“I—was restrained by the damned thing and it took a chunk out of my side. I thought it would rip me apart; part of me wishes it had. Everything after that for a while is a blur to me even now, and I never remember the instances when I… change… only that the night calls to me, the moon a siren’s song.”

“Have you killed anyone as a beast?” you asked.

The mention made his gaze shift down to his hands which still groped the bauble, finding it a safe thing to concentrate on in that moment. Fortunately, the impossible heat in his head was quickly receding and he could once again fully regain clarity.

“I would have to believe so, yes,” he chose to say, honestly. “When I become the monster, I never have a recollection of the things that happen. But, I've awoken enough times covered in blood, surrounded by mutilation to ever claim otherwise.”

Now, you had the pipe back in your mouth and were inhaling the dreamy fumes. Letting the purple haze out of your nostrils. You were no longer looking at him, instead skittering the vastness of things across your tabletop, obviously in search of something.

“I want to be forthright with you, though you've only kept an air of mystery around yourself the entire time,” he started, replacing the object back on your table with the rest. “Either, I want your help for a cure, or I want you to develop a poison that will kill both myself and the beast inside of me.”

Your eyebrows ticked up, conveying the most emotion he'd seen out of you yet. “Those are both extremes. I cannot promise you anything because I am not a practitioner of magic or miracles. I am simply: the Practitioner. You will be the one to decide your own fate, for I cannot decide it for you.”

“I don't understand.” He looked at you helplessly, weathered and weighted.

From among the mass of stuff before you both, you pulled out a small notebook bound in leather, secured with a strap. You resumed puffing away on your pipe once he took it from you, studying it with some measure of apprehension and revulsion.

“This notebook contains many different specimens I've studied over, oh, some years. One of those specimens is a plant called aconite. You must find me a bushel, along with a handful of other things, and bring them back to me for me to create the tincture you need to either be cured or poisoned.”

He examined the notebook front to back several times, as though all of his answers would suddenly materialize across the covers. Of course, no such thing happened. “You have this table of the strangest things I've ever seen, and yet you don't have the things needed to create the tincture. I’m finding you to be a liar.”

You gave a great huff of exasperation, blowing purple smoke towards him in retaliation. “And I'm finding you to be among the dullest of men I've ever met. These things that I have do not serve a purpose to individuals. You must be the one to create the tincture for yourself. It is the intention behind it; your thoughts, feelings, beliefs, and desires. You have to decide what you truly think you deserve—what you truly want.”

“That is witchcraft,” he said, incredulous. “It's magic!”

Again, you gripped the metal with your teeth and smiled around it. “Is it magic, or is it the power of your own thinking? Is your lycanthropy the result of a beast or your own illness? Will you live or die? I can't answer those things for you.”

“Then, I must go.” He found a pocket inside his coat that hadn't worn or torn with all his previous transformations and tucked it there. When he rose from the crackling chair, wood springing back to life once he was out of it, you surprisingly stood with him. “I'll find the answers I need. I'll return to you with these things.”

You were less awful seeming up close, a normal person dwarfed by his size. It was an odd feeling to be in such close proximity to someone else, one who didn't shrink and cower beneath the severity of his face—the dark brows and dark hair and unshaven jaw. But, you stood there with him next to the door to let him out, unafraid and fixed in your confidence that he would bring you no harm.

It moved him.

It moved him so deeply that he reached for your warmth, or your illusion, and kissed you deeply. He relished the touch of your lips, the press of your body against his, and the taste of your fragrant smoke which was effervescent and sparkling in his mind.

He could have taken you to bed right then, lain naked with you, damp with sticking skin while tangled together in an embrace, luxuriating in the afterglow.

But, he could not answer those desires while with his affliction as you would die, and he couldn't burden that sort of grief after knowing the touch of another. He even wondered, with some shame, whether he deserved to know someone of your caliber, your mysticism and wisdom, after slaughtering men and women whom he'd never know the names of. Those whose families would never know closure.

He kissed you once more, letting it linger and swell with his feelings before he let you go and went for the door.

“I'll return to you.”

You still had your pipe and smoked it, smiling evenly and contentedly.

“I wonder what you'll choose in the end.”

[unforth]

I had a day off yesterday.

And I can already practically hear the assumptions that such a statement is prompting the reader to make. Those assumptions are wrong. I don't mean I didn't work. I did, for about 8 hours. That's not at all what I mean.

I mean my wife took the kids out at 9:30, spent the night with her mom, isn't back yet the next morning.

There are things I NEED people on this website to understand about parenting. And I've talked about it before, and I'll talk about it again, because honestly the way that Tumblr as a cohort talks about parents makes me sick. Multiple polls have shown that only about 2% of people on here are parents. We're a huge minority, and we're constantly talked over, ignored, or accused of being bad parents (like, personally, I have had people reply to my comments or come on to my posts and tell me I shouldn't have my kids). In my case, being a parent means I'm almost 41, I'm married to @ramblingandpie, and our children are inching up on being 8 and 6 years old.

My entire day, and therefore my entire life, revolves around them. I'm up most mornings at 5 AM, because that's the earliest they're "allowed" to wake up, and so my brain just defaults to being awake around then - better to wake up before them, at least then I get a few minutes in the morning. Between 5 and 7, I sit with them, do my social media, work on side blogs, study Chinese. Then it's helping them get ready for school, then my wife or I or both get them on the bus, and then I work until the last possible minute, which is either when I need to go pick them up for an after school activity or when I need to go down and meet them off the bus. My afternoons are after school activities, chores such as washing the dishes and cleaning up toys, talking with them, working with them, playing with them. Their bedtime starts at 7:40, and my son gets scared if I leave before he falls asleep so I sit with him until about 8:15. As soon as he's asleep, I go fall on my face, sleep as best I can, then wake up and do it again. Overnight, it's hard to sleep deeply, because about once a week someone will wake up in the middle of the night and need help. That could be as minimal as a hug or as complex as having to completely change the bedding on a bunk bed at 2 AM while also comforting a child who is afraid they'll be in trouble, or afraid they're sick, or afraid of their nightmare, or, or, or. Further, if a child is awake, there is always noise. I usually study Chinese with two or more competing sources of noise. I read the same way. My life is loud, and active, and consists of constant interruptions.

I adore my family, and I love my children, but this is terrible for me.

I do all of this as an neurodivergent introvert. My clinical depression is at least medicated, mostly because post-partum depression after I gave birth the first time nearly drove me to suicidal in under a week (we were expecting this and were prepared, fortunately, getting help was as simple as a phone call). The constant noise and interruptions and forced socialibility are about the worst combination of home-life I could be subjected to. I spend far too many early mornings just breathing deeply and gearing myself up to be subjected to the wall of Loud, Boisterous, Needing-My-Attention that is every minute when anyone else in the house is awake.

So what did my day off look like?

I helped get the kids ready to go and did some morning chores. I'd been up at 4:30 AM so I also had already social media'd and studied. Then, while my wife finished the preparations, I started work, and I worked from about 8 am to about 4 pm, straight. I didn't get hungry so didn't bother stopping for lunch. No one interrupted me, no one asked me to look at anything they'd built, no one broke my concentration, no sounds could be heard except those I'd chosen myself.

I'd been out the day before at a local shopping street and listened closely to the things the kids said they wanted, so at 4 I grabbed a couple orders I needed to ship for work and drove to our local downtown, dropped the orders in a post box, then went back to the shops and did some Christmas shopping in the 45 minutes or so before everything closed. I think I'm basically done with what we'll get them - other bigger things will be left to grand parents - so that's a load off, I literally had a stress dream earlier this week about it being 12/24 and having forgotten to do the shopping and having to go to (oh horrors) the mall on the day before Christmas. (Reminder: I'm a Jewish atheist. It's just virtually impossible not to Holiday in the Culturally Christian Hellscape that is the US. Also, my wife is Christian. So.) Found something cute for my wife, too, even tho I already know the main thing I'm getting her. Then, I realized - one of my favorite restaurants is on that block. So. I went there. I sat by myself at a table, only the indistinct restaurant hubbub around me. I read four or five chapters of my book, and ate a savory crepe, and drank lovely fruit tea, and got a scone to-go that I'll eat for lunch today. It was more than I probably should have spent on myself - about $25, including tip - but fuck it. I only get maybe a handful of days off all year, and I'm allowed to indulge a little.

Then I came home. There were no lights on. There was no noise. I had considered doing some more merch work while watching TV on the actual television (my kids are too young for subtitled shows, so usually if I want to watch My Shows I either have to do it on my computer when they're not around, or put them on and read all the subtitles aloud while trying to keep up and process the actual meaning of what I'm reading). But when I got back, the quiet and dark was so goddamn NICE that instead I curled up on the couch and read more of my book. I did that until bedtime - still about 8:15, because I'm exhausted. Then...I went to bed. And I slept long and deep, knowing that there was no chance I'd be interrupted and woken up, I didn't have to be, even in sleep, alert to every noise and possibility that I'd be needed.

I'm still exhausted and burned out, but even one night to myself felt really, really nice.

Saying "Tumblr does X" as a universal statement is doomed to failure, but generally speaking, the parenting posts I see on Tumblr, the ones with tens or hundreds of thousands of notes, speak what's apparently widely seen as a truism on here: that unless someone wants to spend 24/7 with their kids, to be 100% emotionally available at all times, is always kind and patient and perfect, they are a bad parent, maybe even abusive. I remember when covid started, there were multiple posts actively mocking the "oh god, my kids are now home all the time, how am I supposed to do this?" attitude that a lot of parents posted in despair. WhY dId YoU hAvE kIdS iF yOu DoN't WaNt To SpEnD tImE wItH tHeM?

Look at what my usual day looks like.

Look at what my day off looked like.

Do you really think I don't want to spend time with my kids? Do you really think I don't love my kids?

But I'm not a fucking MACHINE. I'm a PERSON. That's what people on Tumblr seem to forget. PARENTS ARE PEOPLE. The same tumblrinas who post ~uwu be kind to yourself rest if you need to, you should forgive yourself for that mistake you made~ will turn around, with zero sense of irony, and post "you're a bad parent if you ever raise your voice around a child."

Expecting parents to be perfect means expecting parents to be inhuman. It also means that a parent can't be poor (can't spend all your time being the perfect parent if you have to work multiple jobs or weird hours!), can't be introverted (can't be a perfect parent if you're not completely emotional available, god forbid socializing is exhausting for you), can't be on the ADHD or autism spectrum (what do you mean you forgot to get your kid to a doctor's appointment once? what do you mean over-stimulation can make you angry? how dare you get angry at a kid!), can't be depressed (gotta get out of bed every single day, gotta always be upbeat, patient, happy, or else that's Evil), can't be (like my wife) physically disabled (what do you mean your hands hurt too much to hold a child's hand? are you denying them touch?? CRUEL). And when the only answer you can offer to that is, "if you can't be that perfect you shouldn't be a parent," then you're saying people who aren't middle class to wealthy, people who aren't neurotypical, people who aren't physically able, shouldn't have children.

And honestly...what the fuck is your problem?

I'm not perfect. I tell my kids to just leave me alone sometimes. I raise my voice, especially when one of my kids starts punching the other, but also sometimes just cause I'm exhausted and Can't Anymore. I've forgotten an appointment by accident and felt like a total fucking idiot, and I've skipped an after school activity because I just wasn't up for taking them. I've served them more unbalanced, unhealthy meals than I can count. I've made many, many mistakes, but I've also done my best, and I love my kids, and I hope that when they grow up, they'll still love me even as they recognize that I wasn't perfect, just as I've come to accept my own parents' short-comings while still loving them very much. They're people, too, and the older I get, the more I understand where they were coming from.

When I fuck up, I apologize.

When they tell me they're unhappy with something I've done, I apologize, and I try to do better. Sometimes I even succeed.

This shit is hard, yo. And it's getting harder every year.

I'm BEGGING Tumblr: you need to start seeing parents as people. The way y'all talk about parenting on here is toxic, and genuinely harmful, and frankly exhausting. You have no idea what the reality of raising kids is like, and you need to shut the entire fuck up.

I had a day off yesterday.

I might get one more before the end of 2023.

I already can't wait. I am so, so, so tired. sigh

(if you actually read this whole rant and even a single word of it resonated for you, please reblog it. I'm tired of never seeing positive posts about parenting while I see negative ones with a bajillion notes.)

[sunflowerlando]

Homecoming

Pairing: Hangman x female reader (first person (no use of Y/N)) Synopsis: Hangman arrives home early from a deployment to surprise you Word Count: 1.3k+ Warnings: smut (seriously this is 18+), mentions of masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), protected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all), multiple orgasms, Hangman is his own smut warning

This is a rewrite of an old story (combined with some other parts of other writings I've done as the original was never finished). I took a poll on who people wanted a homecoming romp with, and Jake was the winner. Sorry this has taken so long to get out! I did a brief proofread after finishing, so apologies for any mistakes or if this just sucks 🙃

18+ content below, do not interact if you’re a minor.

I woke up around 6AM thinking I heard something, but as I lay listening there was no noise out of the ordinary. I closed my eyes and tried to get comfortable again, rolling onto my side and stretching my leg out. My leg rubbed against something hard, and my eyes shot open immediately. I should have been alone in my bed, but there was a shirtless, green eyed, naval aviator lying next to me.

"Hi babe." Jake said quietly, and I threw my arms around him.

"What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be home until tonight."

"I can leave and come back then if you'd like."

"Only if you want to die a slow and painful death." I said grumpily and he laughed, kissing me gently.

"Are you sure you didn't know I was coming home early?" He asked.

"How could I have?"

"Well, you've got a sexy nightie on," he started before lifting the sheet to look at me.

"I've been wearing it for 2 nights now," I laughed "but I will admit you have good timing."

"Why's that?" He asked and I slid the hem of my nightgown up, revealing my lacy black underwear.

"Well hellllooo." He replied, wiggling his eyebrows at me before pulling me back against him for a deeper kiss.

"Fuck, I missed you so much." I said as my leg wrapped over his hip, and I ran my hands up his abs.

"Same. I thought about you every night."

"Did you ever touch yourself while you thought about me?" I asked a little shyly.

"Almost every day." He replied and I groaned slightly.

"Shit." I said under my breath as my heartbeat picked up.

"Did you ever think about me in bed and get hot and have to take care of it cause you were so turned on you couldn't stand it?" He asked, running his hands up and down my sides.

"You always make me hot, Jake." I told him and I could feel his cock twitch against me.

"Good. It better only be me." He said, before crashing his lips into mine and rolling us over so he had me pinned beneath him.

My hips rolled against up his and we both groaned into the kiss.

"Jake, please..." I mumbled against his lips.

"Please what?" He asked, smirking down at me.

"You know what." I replied.

"You need this so bad, don't you baby?"

"I have for a month now..."

"Then let's get cracking." He grinned, shifting to pull my nightgown off me.

His gaze trailed lazily over me before he kissed down my middle, gently caressing his hands over my breasts as he made his way further down my body. His kisses teased the inside of my thighs until his mouth was pressed over the top of my panties, torturing and pleasing me at the same time.

“Jake,” I sighed, and he moved to pull my panties down my legs. He then spread my legs gently, kissing the inside of both my thighs before lowering his head to push his tongue against me.

I groaned as his tongue flicked across my clit; one of my hands finding its way into his hair, the other gripping the sheet on the bed.

“You’re incredible” he said with a moan, in between sliding his tongue through my folds and sucking gently on my clit.

He slipped a finger inside of me, curling it to press against my g spot.

“You’re almost ready to cum aren’t you baby? I can feel how wet you’re getting and you're clenching so tight on my finger.” he said as he added another finger, and I felt the coil in my stomach tighten. Jake was an expert at pretty much everything he took interest in, and he was very interested in my body and making me feel good.

"Please," I begged before breaking into another loud moan as he upped his pace.

“Cum for me, baby." he said, and I broke. One of my hands came off the pillow and to the back of his head, holding him to me as I started to come undone. My legs were shaking as he sucked on my clit and fingered me through my orgasm.

"Fuck! Jakeeeeeee," I moaned, "fuckkkkkkk."

"Good girl." He said with a smile.

As I came back down from my orgasm, he slipped his boxers off and reached for a condom in the bedside table. I took the packet from his hands, ripping it open and caressing a hand down his length before sliding the condom on.

"Ready?" He asked, rubbing the head of himself against my clit.

"Please" I whined, and he smirked before obliging.

As he slid into me fully my eyes rolled back in my head, and I cried out at the feelings rushing through me.

He started moving slowly, both of us groaning at the sensation.

"Fuck, Darlin, you're so tight."

"Oh god; go harder." I begged and he pushed in and out of me quicker.

"You always feel so good after I've been away. So tight and just like you've been waiting for me to stretch you out again." Jake said, sliding a hand down between us to play with my clit.

"Mmmm... Jake I needed this so bad."

"I know baby. Me too."

"Jake..." I gasped as he shifted his position and pushed up against my front wall, hitting me effectively and sending stars into my vision as he thrust hard repeatedly and rolled my clit between two long fingers.

“Do you think you can give me another one?” he asked.

“If you put in the work, yes.” I grinned and he smirked down at me.

“You’re asking for trouble now.” His head lowered to suck at my left nipple as his other hand came up to pay attention to the right. His hips were still snapping against mine rapidly.

"Fuck. Jake... baby..." I gasped, trying to get some air into my lungs as he assaulted me with pleasure. My legs shook from the effort of holding back but the fire was spreading rapidly across my body, and I knew it was a matter of seconds now. I quivered underneath him, clawing across and down his back as he pounded into me, and my second release shot through my body.

“Goddamn. I forgot how good it feels to be inside you when you let go like that. I almost blew at that babygirl.” He said roughly into my ear, and I laughed lightly.

“It’s your fault.”

“You’re welcome for that.” He kissed me gently as he continued to thrust softly into me.

“My turn.” I replied, wrapping my legs around his waist and taking him by surprise as I rolled us over and sat up in his lap.

“Fuck. You know I like it when you ride me baby.”

“I know. Lay back and enjoy it, Jake.”

I started to roll my hips slowly against his and watched his eyes slide closed at the feeling. I ran my hands over his abs and settled them on his chest for some leverage as I moved up and down over him.

“Shit.” He ground out, gripping my hips and thrusting up off the mattress to meet me. Our pace was becoming more frantic as he raced for the end.

“Just like that, Lieutenant.” I groaned, scratching my nails along his chest.

His thrusts grew sloppier each second, and he groaned as he came. He'd turned into a shaking, swearing mess and I loved knowing I was the one who made him that way. He pressed a kiss to my lips before rolling us, so we were laying on our sides as we tried to settle our breathing and heartrates.

“I’m gonna have to make sure I keep a shirt on around the squad.” He laughed, looking down at the scratch marks I left on his chest.

“You probably have some on your back, too.” I chuckled.

“What can I say, my girl’s an animal.” He grinned.

“Welcome home, Aviator.” I smiled as he leaned over to press a kiss to my lips.

[ubernatural]

Due to the overwhelming majority of positive votes on my poll, this is a small snip of my as of now unnamed destiel fic. Please please please talk to me about how I can improve or what you liked about it <3

———

Cas was alone. Again. His roommate had fucked off, predictably, and left him to stew alone in their half unpacked room right before his first classes of the year. Normally, he’s fine being by himself. Thrives in it, really. But after the way he left things with his family, he’s craving human contact more than ever.

His parents will tell you he “ran away,” but, really, he just never told them he got accepted into KU. He just packed his bags, and left for the fall semester. He had been working jobs since he was fifteen and had saved every last cent of his pay, so he had some money to help with tuition. He also got one mean scholarship, so all he really needs are the books. But that won't stop his parents from calling him “selfish�� and “entitled” when all he really wants is to live his life not being constantly squished into the image of the perfect son that hasn’t fit him in a long ass time.

It also doesn’t help that they are super religious and did not support him coming out as gay. They insisted it was a “phase” and “would pass.” But Cas had known for years that he was into men. He knew it before when he picked a girl in class to “like” just so he would fit in. He knew it in Senior year when Hannah, a girl in his school, invited him over to her house to study, or so he thought. She said she was going to change into something more comfortable and he figured that meant pajamas, but apparently that meant buck ass nude. He was embarrassed and, frankly, grossed out. He made a speedy exit, and avoided her for the rest of the year. His parents, Chuck in particular, kept asking him what ever happened to “that lovely Hannah girl.” Well, now they know why they never saw her again.

Pushing away the thought of his family, he rises from his bed to get ready. He throws on a pair of worn dark wash jeans, a black shirt, and pulls a battered gray zip-up over it all. He grabs the old messenger bag he was able to snatch from his father before he left, and fills it with the books he’s going to need today.

The walk to class was pretty uneventful. It was a nice day, and Cas only got lost once. He quickly asked for directions, and was relieved that he wasn’t even that far off course.

He was still pretty proud of himself when he got to the lecture hall. It was relatively full, but not so that it was hard to find a seat. He ended up picking one close to the middle next to a small redhead with glasses. They shared a polite smile before she reached her hand out for him to shake. “Hey there. I’m Charlie.”

Cas tentatively grasped her hand and gave it a firm shake. “Hello, Charlie. My name is Castiel.”

“Oh, that’s so cool! I might have to steal it for my new DnD character,” she playfully shoots back.

“Yes, well, you would be too late considering it’s already the name of mine.” His lips tick up in a smile as he sees her face brighten.

“Dude, you should totally come over and play sometime! I’ve only got one other friend who plays, and his younger brother who’s usually our DM.” Her eyes widen a fraction before she continues frantically, “I mean, obviously you don’t have to, and this is kinda weird since we know basically nothing about each other and-”

“I would love to join you, Charlie.” He cuts off her rambling before she can talk herself out of his invite.

Her face splits into a wide grin, and she’s beaming again. “Did we just become besties?” she asks.

“Yes, I believe we did,” Cas amusedly answers.

-

The Queen: handmaiden, come quick

emergency dnd meet in my room

now!

and bring the good popcorn

-

Dean gets the text as he’s finishing his last class for today. He’s pretty drained from all of the “introduce yourself” and “get to know you” chats that he was forced into all day. The sun’s setting, and all he really wanted was to curl up in bed and maybe watch Tombstone for the millionth time. But he loves Charlie, and he can’t refuse his queen. He shoots off a text saying he’ll be right there, and heads for his room to get the requested snack.

Ten minutes later, he’s standing outside Charlie’s dorm with the half cheesy, half caramel popcorn that she likes. He knocks once and is utterly unprepared for what he sees when he lets himself in.

“Hey, Charles-”

He stops in his tracks as he takes in the scene. Charlie and some guy are sitting on the floor as Charlie is very animatedly ranting about something or another and the guy is just sitting there, softly but excitedly smiling at her. Upon second glance, the guy is hot. He’s wearing a shirt that hugs his shoulders perfectly and matches his messy black curls. The guy also has a straight nose and full lips. When he looks up at Dean, he’s struck by just how blue his eyes are. Blue enough to drown in. Shut up, brain.

Their impromptu staring contest is interrupted by Charlie springing up from her spot on the floor and practically yanking him all the way inside the room. “Dean,” she says, “this is Castiel. We have English together and he mentioned he plays DnD, so I invited him over to see if we could coerce you and Sam into getting a game started.” He raises a quizzical brow and her responding look says “just go with it.”

“Uh, hey, man,” he says, transferring the nearly forgotten bag of popcorn under his left arm, reaching the other out for the guy to shake.

“Hello, Dean.” And damn, if he hadn't thought this guy was hot before, he definitely thinks so now. His voice is whiskey smooth yet still has a gargling gravel quality to it. His handshake is strong, too. And just as he realizes that fact, he also recognizes that he’s held this guy's hand for a beat too long and was staring again.

He clears his throat and extracts his hand, trying to control the flush he’s feeling. Judging by the small smirk on this Castiel guy’s face, he’s failed miserably.

Turning back to Charlie, resolutely ignoring the self satisfied smile on her smug little face, he extracts the popcorn from under his arm and offers it to her with a small bow. “M’lady,” he recites.

“Why thank you, handmaiden,” she says liltingly, and pats him on the head.

“Anything for you, my queen,” he says as he straightens.

He throws a glance back over at the guy, who is doing a comically adorable squint-tilt of confusion. He sniggers a little to himself. Where did Charlie find this guy? “So, Cas,” he starts, “are you a sweet or salty kind of guy?”

The squint deepens until the whole look smoothes out. “Well, I prefer sweet to salty snacks, if that’s what you’re asking. Although I do believe that opinion is almost entirely based off of my older brother sharing his sugar addiction with me.” His face turned contemplative and almost yearning.

“Well, that’s good since that half and half crap she has me pick up is more 70-30 on carmel to cheese. Now it works out,” he grins, “you two can split the 70 and I’ll get the 30 all to myself.”

“That’s… agreeable.”

His smile widens much more than the comment earned, but he can’t help it. He’s swooning and the man only said two words. “Great, I’ll get Sammy on the phone. Charles, why don’t you and Cas set up the game?”

Sam picks up on the third ring, predictably still awake and not trying to ignore his big brother. “Hey, Dean. How did your first day go?”

“Ah, it was alright, Sammy. Met some people, found some classes, nothing real eventful until now.”

“Until now? What does that mean?” He sounds equal parts concerned and cautious.

“Nothing bad, you can relax. Charlie found herself a new bestie, and we were just wonderin’ if your dungeon master skills could be brought out for a quick game.”

There’s a large sigh on the other end of the phone before he inevitably relents. “Fine. Put me on speaker, I’ll go get my notes.”

“Yes, Sammy!” he shouts excitedly “This is why I love you.” He puts his phone on speaker and flashes a thumbs up at the other two in the room who had looked up at his outburst.

“There’s gotta be more reasons than that, jerk,” Sam replies petulantly.

“Why don’t you come over here and find out, bitch,” he throws back.

There's grumbling and shuffling on the phone, and Dean grins triumphantly, even though the comeback didn't make much sense. “Ok,” Sam pauses, “am I on speaker?”

“Yeah. Hi, Sam!” comes Charlie’s reply.

“Hi, Char. And, uh, hi, Charlie’s new bestie?”

“Hello, Sam. My name is Castiel. It is good to speak with you.” Dean could listen to Castiel read an organic chemistry textbook and never get bored.

“Hello, Castiel. It’s nice to meet a fellow nerd,” Sam jokes.

Cas laughs and if Dean likes his voice, he loves his laugh. He could bottle it up and get drunk on it each night. God, when did he turn into such a sap?

They stay on the phone with Sam through a two hour adventure that he found lying in his notes. Afterwards, it’s pretty late, but they stick around and chat for a bit. They find out some random things about Cas, like, he’s 20 (just a year younger than Dean), his favorite animal is a bee (”But that’s not an animal, Cas, It’s an insect.” “And insects are a type of animal, Dean.”), he has one older brother, and apparently is in a band.

“No way, dude! That’s so cool! What do you play?” Charlie practically bounces off of her perch on the edge of her bed in excitement.

“Well, I play guitar, but I also sing, sometimes.” He shrugs, “We’re very flexible with who takes the lead, though. It usually comes down to who wrote the song and what they want to do with it.” He then smiles shyly, “Then again, most of the songs are mine as well, with more than a few written by my friend, Meg.”

Charlie nearly chokes on her own spit. “Wait, Meg, as in Meg Masters?”

The squint-tilt is back. “Yes. Megara Masters. Do you know her?”

Charlie scoffs, “Know her? No. Know of her? Hell yes. What kind of lesbian would I be if I didn't know the hottest gay in school?”

“Hey,” Dean protests, “the hottest gay is obviously that Aaron guy.”

She reached over and gently laid her hand on his cheek, “Oh, sweetie,” she said pleasantly, “you keep telling yourself that.” She pats his cheek lightly before she withdraws her hand. The whole exchange leaves Cas more than a little confused.

The topics ebb and flow however it wants, and soon they’re debating the merits of each Hogwarts house.

“I don’t care what either of you buffoons have to say, I gotta back my girl Harmionie,” Charlie yells.

“We’re not talking about characters, Char, We’re talking about the house itself!” Dean yells back.

“But if we were talking about characters,” Cas chimes, “That would give Hufflepuff a point because of Sedric.”

“Oh, yea?” Charlie snaps. “And where’s Sedric now, Cas? That's right, he’s dead,”

Dea narrows his eyes, “That was a low blow, Char.” No one disrespects Sedric and gets away with it.

Cas is about to speak, presumably to come to Dean’s aid, when his phone chimes. “Oh dear,” he says.

“What is it, Cas?” Dean asks as nonchalantly as he can, but if the look Charlie shot at him is anything to go by, it didn't work very well.

He laughs breathily at his phone and begins tapping away, speaking distractedly as he goes. “It looks like it’s much later than I thought, and Gabriel seems to have been trying to contact me for quite some time now.” He bites his lip thoughtfully before he starts typing again. Dean tries not to let his gaze snag on the gesture.

“If you gotta go, man, that’s cool,” Dean relents.

“Yeah,” Charlie chimes, “we should all probably get some sleep, anyways.”

“Yes I think I might do just that,” Cas answers. Just then his phone starts buzzing in his hand. “I have to take this, but it was lovely meeting both of you, and I hope we can possibly do this again sometime?”

“Of course, dude,” Charlie answers and goes in for a hug. Cas is a bit awkward, but he’s smiling, so it can’t be too bad. “We nerds gotta stick together!” she declares.

Dean sticks his hand out for Cas to shake. It’s firm and strong and lasts a little bit longer than a normal handshake, but Dean’s probably just imagining that. He also probably imagined when Cas’ eyes seemed to flick down to his lips. He had to have imagined it. No way would this guy be interested in a sack like Dean.

Cas seems to come back to himself abruptly when his forgotten phone starts buzzing again. He answers swiftly with a sort of fond and annoyed look that belongs to most younger brothers. “Gabriel, ya kak raz sobiralsya pozvonit'. Chto vam nuzhno?” He casually shoots them a wave, and closes the door on his way out.

Dean and Charlie are left staring after him in shock. Was that Russian?

[mapleapplepiee]

PART 2

Hello y'all! Heres Part Two to the what I'm calling the princes and pies au or the Prince Jack/ Baker Bitty AU.

Here is Part One for you if you dont know what I'm talking about

Part 2

Bitty

Bitty has just moved into town after completing his baking apprenticeship

He has officially told his parents that he wants to move to study more baking techniques/new pastries to bring back to his village, but he is not so sure about if he's actually going to want to go home or not at the end of his studies

Bitty has been working there for just a few weeks when he makes eye contact with the most handsome man he's ever met

As he is new to the city, he has no idea who Jack is

He has no idea when or if he'll ever see the man again, but he goes to bed that night dreaming of his icy blue eyes and hopes that he will see him again

A few days later his wish comes true when the handsome stranger walks into the bakery

Bitty almost drops his pie

Jack

It takes a couple days for Jack to be able to sneak out again and he has to go in disguise.

He plans on meeting up with Shitty later after his meeting with the Captain of the guard so that they can go to Lardos together

Jack arrives at the bakery

the handsome man from the previous day is there but Jack apparently startles him, causing Bitty to almost drop the pie.

Honestly idk how the rest of the interaction would go, if it would follow more of canon (Aka misunderstandings/ jack being a bit of a jerk and or awkward etc) or if it would be more wholesome (suggestions are very much encouraged, I have more of the late middle and ending in my brain)

Also I'm putting out a poll, I can see this story going two ways so I would love some input

[jhoneybees]

The Cowboy and The Beekeeper.(Chapter 1)

Hello sir🫠

Welcome to the first chapter of my first series!! I'm so excited to see what you all think and hope you all like it :) this chapter is written in a third person's point of view but don't worry the other chapters will be written in a second point of view and the reader doesn't have age regression in the first chapter, they will get it tho, I promise☝️ Thank you to everyone who took part on the poll! I would've had a hard time choosing😅

Taglist: @hooked-on-elvis @scarlettlight06

Characters: 60s!Cowboy!Elvis X Beekeeper!fem!Reader

Warnings/triggers: third person pov, mentions of blood, injuries, wounds,guns, bullets

____________________________________________

Deep red descending from a painful wound on his arm, caused by an enemy’s hot pistol. Elvis wearing a green buttoned up shirt that's torn and in need of repair. He rides his stallion far and long in the never ending landscapes of distant mountains, scattering heights of green trees and grass. He’s exhausted and the blazing sun beaming down on his tan skin isn't helping. Creating an uncomfortably warm sensation in the wound and making his breath heave from the heat.

He’s hungry, thirsty, just wanting somewhere to rest. Riding and riding over hills and through valleys Elvis finally spots a house placed in the middle of a small plain, with a relieved but nervous sigh, he trots down.

Once halted in front of the fence gate, he dismounts and quickly ties the leading rope to one of the posts, making sure to hide his revolver a little in its holster. His bloody hand pressing firmly over his upper arm, Elvis walks through, up to the front door of the unknown house and knocks three times. Getting no response Elvis Disappointedly walks back and just as he unties the rope, a voice calls out “Hey! Can I help you?” Elvis lifts his head and looks towards the direction of the voice, meeting a pretty lady standing next to a group of beehives, wearing beige coloured pants and a buttoned up collared shirt. He sheepishly smiles “Hello! Yeah, if i ain’t botherin!”

the lady snickers and shakes her head “Not at all!” as she makes her way over, she carries a hat with a wide rim, a mesh material draping over. Loudly sighing, she places the hat on a fence post and rests a hand on her hip “What can I do for you?” again she smiles kindly, her eyes travelling down to his arm seeing his blood covered hand, Elvis breathes out a chuckle “Well uh, if ya don’t mind..uh- could I rest here?” raising his eyebrows in question, he nervously smiles earning a nod “Oh! Of course! And something for that as well…” she states whilst pointing a finger. Elvis looking down with a sheepish smile, the lady picking her hat back up, she turns towards the front door. Elvis ties the rope back and follows her inside. Looking around the place, he sighs contently and looks back at the friendly lady closing the front door. She walks past him, unconsciously putting her hat on a nearby table. Waving a hand, she guides him to the guest room. Letting Elvis in to sit at the edge of the bed “Get yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back” at her words he nods and watches as the lady walks off. Taking off his hat and with one hand he effortlessly unbuckles his gun holster, sighing relieved.

Footsteps getting closer and closer, holding a wooden box the lady returns “Alright! Now let’s take a look..uhm, could you take your shirt off please?” She smiles awkwardly earning a small grin from Elvis, taking a seat next to him, she waits for him to finish removing his torn shirt. The lady uncovers the box and rummages inside “How did you get the wound?” she asks, Elvis rubbing the back of his neck “Ah got in a bit of a tussle with some folks…” the lady nods “Hmm was it from a gun?” With a slow hesitant nod Elvis sighs “Yeah…” with a second nod, the lady picks out a wrapped up piece of fabric, unravelling to reveal a variety of tools. Laying a gentle hand on his arm, she inspects the injury. Noticing something shiny buried in the bloody flesh “I’m gonna take the bullet out so just try your best to not move too much” Elvis raises his eyebrows “Ma’am?” the lady smiles reassuringly at him “I’ll be quick” gulping silently, Elvis holds his breath. With a swift and experienced motion, the lady carefully pokes a pair of tweezers inside the wound, earning a pained groan from Elvis, getting a hold of the bullet, she pulls it out and lays it on an old rag “There” Elvis looks down and sees the bullet covered in blood, blinking blankly “Man, you was quick” the lady snickers “Told you, I would be” grabbing a small jar from the box, she opens the lid and swipes the strange substance onto a linen cloth “What’s that?” Elvis questions, the lady lifts her head “It’s a homemade ointment” giving the man a gentle smile, Elvis smiles back “It smells nice..” with a soft hum “It’s made of mostly honey, from my hives” the lady explains. She lightly pats the linen cloth around the wound, careful to not send a sharp sting. Her eyes trail up to look at Elvis who is looking down at the floor “I never got your name” Elvis turns his head “Elvis..Elvis Presley” he smiles, the lady breathes out a laugh “Y/n L/n” shyly chuckling, Elvis rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and rubs his thigh.

Finishing with the ointment, Y/n begins to wrap a bandage around his upper arm. Adjusting the placement as she goes, her eyes wander up to his blue eyes making her gulp quietly and her heart rate beating a little faster. She didn’t really take much notice of his features until now, feeling a slight squeeze in her heart. Her chest rising and falling in one slow breath, her hands gently holding his arm up with her soft fingers, with a soft squeeze she creates an indent from the pressure. Imagining what it would feel like to be held in his arms, breathing in sharply, she snaps herself out of her thoughts and lowers her eyes to the task in hand.

Elvis’ eyes trail around the room, seeing blankets nicely folded upon an old woven chair and baskets stacked in the corner. Bringing his hand to wipe under his nose, he looks at Y’n’s shoes, wandering up to her hands, noticing the bones move delicately under her skin on the back of her hands, wondering if her hands are soft like they present themselves as. Silently letting out air through his nose as his view travels further up to her chest, watching as it rises and falls in a graceful fashion. Clearing his throat when he realises what he’s doing and looks back down at the floor.

The room falls silent as they unknowingly admire each other’s complexion, their breaths, the distant ticking of the clock and birds whistling outside, the only sounds filling their ears until an unexpected meow enters the room. The both of them turning their heads to find a fluffy ginger cat, glancing at one another. Y/n clears her throat “Oh! Rosie, come here baby” Elvis looks at Y/n, the lady looks at him with a sheepish smile “She’s my cat, Rosemary” Elvis nods quietly and lets out a slight chuckle “Oh..” the cat jumping up onto the bed between them, sitting down with her paws elegantly placed in front and her chest out confidently. Looking up at Elvis with her feline green eyes. Smiling small, Y/n snickers “She’s usually quite curious with guests..” Rosemary lets out another meow, making Elvis smile “And quite vocal ” they both quietly laugh.

The feline taking her eyes away from Elvis, she stands up and walks around behind him, sitting down again next to his cowboy hat and gun holster. Lowering her head to have a sniff of the hat only for her to retract her head back slightly making Elvis chuckle “She’s probably smellin’ Rising sun” Y/n cranes her neck a little to see Rosemary then glances at Elvis “I’m guessing that’s your horse?” he nods, keeping his eyes on the ginger cat.

Straightening her posture, Y/n finishes up with the bandaging and puts everything back in the box. Elvis lifts his head as she stands up with the box in her arms “Thank you Y/n” he grins, Y/n nods her head “You’re welcome Elvis” smiling subtly “You’d probably wanna wash the blood off your hands..” Elvis glances down at his hands and nods.”The tap is outside” the lady states “I’ll start on dinner” she shyly excuses herself out of the room.

Elvis watches as she walks away, sighing again he turns to see Rosemary pushing his hat with her little nose. A small smile playing on his lips.

[lorkai]

*･゜ﾟ A/N: Dumb idea I had while in class and actually won the poll, so I'm officially writing this with the older bros. I got exams next week so I'm only writing the younger bros + royal duo after I'm done with them. Might queue some drabbles in the meantime. Anyway, enjoy! ~

*･゜ﾟ Any warning: Not proofread, as always is gn reader. Crack-ish really and Luci's part is also the shortest

The first time it happened you were making breakfast, the smell of food in the air, the coffee ready and you running around to finish everything before the brothers showed up. Or at least, ironically praying that someone shows up to help you put the plates on the table and finish making the pancakes. And somehow, your wish was fulfilled, someone was with you in the kitchen, his footsteps softly hitting the floor and his arms encircling your waist, holding you close.

Except you only felt the touch, you didn't see his hands, his arms. And at that moment you turned and landed a pretty big punch in the air - or what should have been air. You hit something hard and when you looked at your hand there was blood there.

"Mc, do you happen to hate me?" Lucifer asks, his eyes gleaming as he slowly becomes visible to your human eyes.

"THE HELL? You were invisible! I thought you were some evil spirit wanting my soul, sheesh!"

You turned to finish your chores as Lucifer heaved a long breath, walking out of the kitchen, his nose still throbbing. At least you hit hard and he was proud of you for it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀

After the incident with Lucifer, you trained your ears to hear the subtlest noises around you. The sigh of the wind, the rustling of the trees, that sort of thing, the Morningstar with his bruised ego couldn't keep eye contact at the table and when his brothers found out the cause they all laughed. A mere human hit Lucifer so hard it made his nose bleed! Nobody would ever believe that!

So yes, you've trained your ears. Now that the brothers remembered that they could turn invisible you knew one of them would try to scare you. You were betting on Belphie maybe. He loved your attention. But Asmo could try that too, they all could and they all had different reasons for it.

The second time happened when you were studying. The story of Devildom started to play around in your head while the soft music playing on the radio made you feel drowsy, you debated whether you should just close your eyes for a few seconds and decided it was a good idea. Your head drooped onto the table and you settled into a comfortable position, closing your eyes and resting from all those difficult terms and turning away from unbelievable historical facts. After all, apparently a talking unicorn caused chaos in the, if compared to human times, Middle Ages.

You must have fallen asleep at some point. A gentle hand caressed your scalp as you felt the heat cradling your body completely, realizing a second later that you were no longer sleeping at your desk, but in your bed. Someone had moved you, closed the windows and turned off the lights, yet when your eyes opened you saw no one who could have done all that, though you could still hear a quiet humming sound. Except you didn't need to see him to know who was keeping you company at that moment.

"Mammon," you called. And on your other side you felt someone start, a loud sigh leaving his lips, as if he hadn't expected to be caught in such a moment. The hand upon your head moved away and even though you didn't see him, you knew he was covering his face and staring anywhere but your face. He was completely embarrassed, but at least he had failed to scare you and now you would use that against him. In the best possible way. "Oh, Mammon, I wish you were here so much. We would do lots of fun things and I would give you a thousand kisses and we would fall asleep holding each other, I would lay my head on your chest and before we fell asleep I would say I love y--"

Upon their eyes he became visible. Embarrassed, nervous, but determined to make your words come true, Mammon pulled you close and hid his face in your neck. He would need a moment to compose himself but in the meantime you would enjoy his awkward embrace.

"Ya gonna be the death of me, Mc..." He meekly said.

⠀⠀⠀⠀

Levi didn't leave his room. Never. If it were possible, do you think he wouldn't abandon comfort of his safe zone, and time and time again he asks you to take his deliveries and sign the necessary documents for him. Today it happened again. He had bought three different dakimakura, but several other goodies had come along and carrying all of them up the stairs was a bit of a challenge for you. You couldn't even see the path in front of you, luckily Beel saw you and helped you.

"Levi," You called. But there was no response from the demon. He was playing and wouldn't open the door for you, so you left the boxes on the floor and took a bunch of keys from your pocket, opening his door in a few seconds. "Gosh, it's so dark in here. Sorry Levi, but I'm going to have to do this."

You turned on the light, bracing yourself for his grumbles and complaints. However, all your ears picked up were the soft sounds of Levi's snoring and looking this way and that, you realized he must have been invisible. You started to wonder if it was just their nature or if they turned invisible of their own accord, or for some other reason. You decided you would talk to Solomon about this later. But for now, you left the boxes by the door and carefully made your way across the room with light steps, trying to weakly kick the air to figure out where Levi's body was.

Finally you found his huddled shadow in the bathtub, the television remote slipping from his hand. You leaned over him and brought your hand to his face, stroking the skin slowly, letting out a laugh. And then you moved with the intention of picking up his blanket that had fallen out of his bathtub, but at that moment you stepped on something hard. And a sharp cry was heard. You stepped on Levi's tail. And now he looked at you like a crying puppy, wanting to be comforted by you.

"That's what you get when you turn invisible." You muttered, trying to sound angry that you had to take another package while he slept. But your tone was filled more with mockery than anger. And Levi held back a noticeable eye roll. You sighed. "Make room for me, I'm coming in."

You just hoped he didn't use this ruse to get you to spoil him more than you already did.

[moonspirit]

Hi Moon, I hope you are well! I wanted to drop in and say OH MY GOD THE NEW CHAPTER?!?!?!?!?!!?!!?

First of all, remember you made a poll/question asking what readers want to see more of and I said REINER POV and YOU MADE IT HAPPEN. It was heartbreaking but also SO SO GOOD AND AAAAA I can't believe how well you wrote him and his thoughts. Also fuck Karina man, I hope she falls in the lake and freezes over 🌚 maybe she can take Mrs Leonhart with her too👀

Then, CONNIE??? HE'S THE STAR HERE OMG I fucking love the way he's so serious about this ginger bread project. But also, how did Connie of all people become the serious, responsible and grounded one of the group🫢

Then, JEANPIKU AAAAAAAAAA I can't believe they're acting so flustered and they didn't even kiss yet like HELLOOO how will you guys react after that??? Terrible at hiding emotions fr!

I also want to take a moment to appreciate LEVI IN THIS CHAPTER BECAUSE THIS MAN HAS MISSING FINGERS AND IS STILL DOING HIS VERY BEST. Him sulking?? Him agreeing with Connie on the Annie crystalizing moment (which btw made me snort), him going along with this "plan" to help Armin and Jean?? Yes!!!

Below I added my favorite passages from this chapter. What a delightful read! I can't wait to do some drawing in the future of my favorite moments! Absolutely want to capture some of these!

Hellllooo stella!! T_____T Thank you so much for reading, I'm so happy to know you enjoyed the chapter aaaaaaaaa T^T

Yeeesss the poll-not-poll thingy xD This chapter has been in the works for months now, so it wasn't a sudden thing! But you actually guessed right under that post and it was a struggle to not tell you "Bingo!" XD

I'm very glad to know you liked the Reiner POV tho T_T I admit it was quite difficult to actually put into words; severe depression, especially the physical manifestation of it, is tricky to actually explain seriously without it sounding silly. Imo a lot of the ways depression shows up in daily life are very quiet and "tiny" - for example, Reiner's struggle to get out of bed and the sudden confusion that envelopes him as he stands in the middle of his room and doesn't know what to do next.

Also fuck Karina man, I hope she falls in the lake and freezes over 🌚 maybe she can take Mrs Leonhart with her too👀

I laughed SO hard xD Glad to know you all hate her! Horrible reptile indeed.

On a serious note, I think... the warrior parents (with the exception of Pieck's father who seems, for the lack of more information, quite nice actually) might've actually had their eyes opened to the cruelty they dealt their children, but such realizations imo aren't total 180s. Both Mr. Leonhart and Karina are different now, yes, they no doubt value Annie and Reiner as actual people more than just as tools, but... it's highly likely they both also continue to hurt their children, probably unwittingly. Parents who view their children as trophies do not easily come down to a level where they are content with just the happiness of said children. I won't get into Mr. Leonhardt right now (to be discussed at a later point), but while Karina might really love Reiner, his status as Hero and Ambassador is still valuable to her. He is still a trophy son, someone she can show off to others. I don't say Karina does this intentionally, but it is incredibly harmful behaviour, especially to a vulnerable son like Reiner.

Okay wait I rambled, sorry xD

CONNIE BTW, IS THE ONLY ONE WITH THE SINGLE VALUABLE BRAINCELL AT THE MOMENT (among the six). I hc he'd really love community projects - hence gingerbread town, it's kinda funny he'd be the only one so fired up about it xD That said poor guy has his work cut out for him now, so RIP Connie Boy.

I also want to take a moment to appreciate LEVI IN THIS CHAPTER

T_____T Father of several adoptive children humouring his idiot son's excitement over gingerbread-town - ISN'T IT A NICE PICTURE TO HAVE?!! Aaaahhhh I really loved writing him doing such a silly activity, it was very heartwarming. But where Levi is, there are also sarcastic one-liners and maybe I enjoyed those a little too much xD So glad to know you enjoyed them too, Stella, thank you T_T!

These passages... yeah xD Things have been too sad lately, it was time for the sillies! I'm incredibly glad this chapter made you laugh.

Thank you so much for the lovely words, you're too kind T^Tb

[writers-ex]

a night with itzy: choose your prom date

classmate!reader x classmate!2shin

a/n: hannie here :] welcome to another choose your ending ff, i put a poll asking what genre everyone wanted and while i was washing my hands yesterday i thought of the idea and blam here we are, thanks for your patience with me in school and life this story along with your asks will be uploaded with time, prom season is coming and for those of us who are, never went, or don't want to go then i invite you to sit back and relax while you enjoy a night with itzy

warnings: switch!itzy, car sex, praise kink, being tied up(?), horny teenagers being teenagers, oral, exhibition kink, dom!reader, sub!yuna, dom!ryujin, dress up kink, more will be added if i forget to mention <3

it was another regular day here at itzy high school, yuna pulls up next to your parking spot and winked as she waves you over. lately she has been parking near and talking to you since you both had classes together. you began talking and walking to class before realizing you had a lot more in common than being lab partners. ryujin your oldest childhood friend began to tolerate her presence in your life as they both helped you navigate the jungle that is high school.

this week was no different until you noticed on the way to bio as usual a tap on your shoulder caused you to turn around and cup your hand against your mouth gasping. there behind you was yuna holding a bouquet of daisies on one knee as she gives you the brightest grin you’ve ever seen. peers crowd around the two of you as she clears her throat and takes a deep breath. 

“i won’t beat around the bush but i want to take you to prom and i won’t take no for an answer. i’ll literally stalk you around school and back to your house until you give me a reply and-“

“YUNA??!?” whisper yelling your cheeks redden as you accept the flowers from her smug face. “I-ILL GO WITH YOU IF YOU PROMISE TO GET UP!!” standing up yuna shoos away the crowd as the flow of the hallway and students continues per usual. arm in hand she guides you to your class humming the whole way. 

“remember love prom is next week so let me know the color of your outfit and we’ll coordinate.” turning her head to the side yuna takes a look to the left and a look to the right before placing a light kiss against your cheek. “i promise to be there so we can dance all night, don’t worry about a thing other than looking even more amazing than you already look.” waving goodbye her figure leaves your sight as you clutch the flowers close to your chest. 

during class, you begin thinking of outfits to wear when the bell rings signaling for lunch. making your way to the cafeteria your best friend appears at your side making you feel relieved and not alone. 

“hey ryujin~ you’ll never guess what happened to-“

“yuna did a promposal to you in the hallway before bio right?”

“damn word travels fast around here.”

“you’re going to say no right? i mean she’s yuna the unreliable, always leaving class randomly, getting odd grades. you should be going with someone that’s stable, someone who makes you feel comfortable and loved automatically. someone like your best friend maybe or-“

“-you?” finishing her sentence ryujin stops wide-eyed in the middle of the lunchroom frozen in place. “ryujin? hello? what’s wrong what are you-“ mumbling to herself ryujin takes a bold step forward and holds your hand in hers. with the bouquet on the other hand, you look up and see your best friend the coolest and most confident person in your life looking scared.

“this is not how i wanted to ask you, but i’ll take it.” inhaling ryujin stares into your eyes giving your hand a slight squeeze. “yuna beat me to the punch but i wanted to surprise you in my room when you come over after school today with balloons i blew up and the rose petals spelling out prom on my bed and then-“ stopping ryujin you place a finger on her lip and blush.

“ok ok ok i’ve heard enough!! i’ll have to consider the two of you and decide tonight, i promise i’ll let you know first ryu who i pick.” removing your hand from hers you nudge toward the exit. “if it’s ok with you …i’d like to eat alone today. i’ve had an exciting first half of the day.” she nods and watches you leave outside to sit by a bench alone with your thoughts. the rest of the day you ponder over this morning’s events- the most popular girl in the school and your best friend since childhood asked you to prom. who would you choose?

as you get home and go about your day you’re about to unwind for the night when your phone vibrates and both their names appear on your phone, you read both their messages and decide to reply back to one.

"so love i'm thinking we could coordinate and go shopping this weekend are you free for a date?"

"hey...i wanted to check on you and see how you're feeling, want me to come over with your faves for a binge and therapy session?"

[namranii]

tf2 oc x canon

(the poll winner!! if you want to learn about my oc marine, check out my art blog @namraniiart )

────୨ৎ────

She was usually quite calm and content, a young woman who had seemed untouchable, especially by the constant damage the war had inflicted. This time, she sat in her sleeping quarters, unable to rest. It was the middle of the night and despite having taken multiple sleeping pills, but nothing was helping her. The marine snuck into scouts bedroom, her toes pointed as she tiptoed across the floor, trying not to get noticed by anyone.

She would open his door, and see him passed out on his bed, his blanket a mess around him as he snored. Marine smiled a bit to herself, finding it amusing. She snuck over and lied down next to him, covering herself with the knit blanket as she held him, hiding her face in his chest. Scout would stir awake at her touch, confused. He looked down and saw her with her eyes closed, holding him like nothing else mattered in the world.

“Nightmares?” He asked, grinning at her unusually vulnerable behaviour.

“No…I couldn’t..sleep..” The Marine would confess. She eventually fell asleep, her soft breathing filled the room. Scout ran his fingers through her hair, ever so greatful that she was there.

Damn the war, Damn the shit that happened, he knew that she was with him by his side and that’s all that mattered to him for the time being. Scout closed his eyes, holding her as close to his body as he possibly could.

He never thought he would experience love, but he finally found it.

[ckerouac]

Too many books came in at the same time from my library queue, so @redheadgleek suggests a poll and yes, let’s poll! Y’all can see my… varied reading interests lol

What should I read next?

Daughter from the Dark: Late one night, fate brings together DJ Aspirin and ten-year-old Alyona. After he tries to save her from imminent danger, she ends up at his apartment. But in the morning sinister doubts set in. Who is Alyona? A young con artist? A plant for a nefarious blackmailer? Or perhaps a long-lost daughter Aspirin never knew existed? Whoever this mysterious girl is, she now refuses to leave.

The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett: Wanting to organize an assisted death on her own terms, world-weary octogenarian Eudora Honeysett forges an unexpected bond with exuberant ten-year-old Rose, who drags her to tea parties, shopping sprees, and other social excursions.

Flesh and Bone and Water: André is a listless Brazilian teenager and the son of a successful plastic surgeon who lives a life of wealth and privilege, shuttling between the hot sands of Ipanema beach and his family's luxurious penthouse apartment. In 1985, when he is just 16, André's mother is killed in a car accident. Clouded with grief, André's father loses himself in his work while André spends his evenings in the family apartment with Luana, the beautiful daughter of the family's maid. Three decades later, and now a successful surgeon himself, André is a middle-aged father, living in London, and recently separated. One day he receives an unexpected letter from Luana, which begins to reveal the other side of their story, a story André has long repressed.

Geek Love: The Binewskis are a carny family whose mater- and paterfamilias set out-- with the help of amphetamine, arsenic, and radioisotopes-- to breed their own exhibit of human oddities. There is Arturo the Aquaboy, who has flippers for limbs and a megalomaniac ambition worthy of Genghis Khan. Iphy and Elly, the lissome Siamese twins. Albino hunchback Oly. And the outwardly normal Chick, whose mysterious gifts make him the family's most precious-- and dangerous-- asset. As they set out across the U.S., family values will never be the same.

Same Bed Different Dreams: March 1919. Far-flung Korean patriots establish the Korean Provisional Government to protest the Japanese occupation of their country. This government-in-exile proves mostly symbolic, its petitions ignored by heads of state as Korea's nationhood is erased. After Japan's defeat in World War II, the KPG dissolves and civil war erupts, resulting in the North-South split that remains today. But what if the KPG still existed now, today-working toward a unified Korea, secretly harnessing the might of a giant tech company to further its aims?

Unholy: why white evangelicals worship at the altar of Donald Trump: Fueled by an anti-democratic impulse, and united by this narrative of reverse victimization, the religious right and the alt-right support a common agenda--and are actively using the erosion of democratic norms to roll back civil rights advances, stock the judiciary with hard-right judges, defang and deregulate federal agencies, and undermine the credibility of the free press. Increasingly, this formidable bloc is also forging ties with European far right groups, giving momentum to a truly global movement forecasted to last long after the Trump era.

Comemadre: In the outskirts of Buenos Aires in 1907, a doctor becomes involved in a misguided experiment that investigates the threshold between life and death. One hundred years later, a celebrated artist goes to extremes in search of aesthetic transformation, turning himself into an art object.

I Who Have Never Known Men: A young woman is kept in a cage underground with thirty-nine other females, guarded by armed men who never speak; her crimes unremembered... if indeed there were crimes.

Road of Bones: Kolyma Highway, otherwise known as the Road of Bones, is a 1200 mile stretch of Siberian road where winter temperatures can drop as low as sixty degrees below zero. Felix Teigland, or "Teig," is a documentary producer, and when he learns about the Road of Bones, he realizes he's stumbled upon untapped potential. Accompanied by his camera operator, Teig hires a local Yakut guide to take them to Oymyakon, the coldest settlement on Earth. Teig is fascinated by the culture along the Road of Bones, and encounters strange characters on the way to the Oymyakon, but when the team arrives, they find the village mysteriously abandoned apart from a mysterious nine-year-old girl. Then, chaos ensues.

[yanderepuck]

I let you guys choose my next smut fic via polls. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised by the outcome. However I was really excited about the outcome.

Prompt: Him in Heat (submissive). Faust x Reader

Being in heat has got to be the most inconvenient, embarrassing parts to bring a vampire. You have no control over it. You don't know when it's coming or how hard it will hit. Faust has tried to come up with someway to stop it, but it's not easy to test since it only happens once a year.

He normally just tries to stay in bed and let it pass. He can't get anything done. But in the past he's never had to deal with you.

You know they all go through this, and you've been curious to know what Faust is going to be like. He's already rough in bed normally. So what is he like when he can't control himself?

The thoughts that go through your head would send you straight to hell. How dominant and controlling would he be?

A few months go by and you completely forget about it.

Faust is in his lab working on something and seems to be very strict about not wanting anyone to bother him, but you got the message from Charles so who really knows.

Early in the afternoon you decided to go into his lab with some lunch to spend some time with him.

"Faust? I made us some lunch," you smile at him as you walk in, going to set the tray on the table in the middle of the room.

He jumped when hearing your voice, dropping the utensil he was holding. "Didn't Charles tell you I didn't want to be interrupted today?" His voice was snippy and he bent down to grab what he was using.

"He did. But you also say that everyday," you giggle.

Faust always says he wants to be alone when he's working. But you know that if you don't come and bother him that he won't take breaks, and will even fall asleep in the lab.

"I had him tell you for a reason," he groans. As he stands back up he notices that you've moved directly beside him, looking at the notebook on the table.

"What are you working on?" You try reading his notes, but he only writes in a mix of German and French, and his handwriting isn't exactly easy to read.

"None of your business," he shut the book on you and steps away from you, going to the other side of the table actually.

Letting out a dramatic goan you hunch over the table. "I just want to know."

He ignores you. He is trying to ignore you, but you're just standing there, looking at him as if you're expecting him to do something.

Sigh. "Do you mind. I want to be alone for a reason."

"But I want to help you."

"You can help me by leaving."

You pout. That's no way to treat a woman you like. You move from your spot at the table, over to the other side to join him, wanting to watch him.

You ended up brushing against him and he instantly froze, dropping his utensil again, but this time it landed on the table.

"Are you feeling alright? Maybe you should lay in bed for the day."

He takes a deep breath, but he feels like that made it worse. All he can smell was you. He is doing his best to control himself. You're both quiet for a few moments. He's trying to think of how to get you to leave without physically pushing you out the door, and you are trying to figure out what could be wrong.

"I'm fine. Now why don't you-"

"You're in heat, aren't you?" You cut him off with a smirk. Your eyes stay on his face, watching it go red with embarrassment. He didn't even have to answer. He would have immediately said no if it wasn't true. "You know, I can help you with that."

"I don't need any help. I'll be fine as long as you leave."

You've been around for a little less than a year, there's no way you were going to miss out on this. You stood in front of him, having your arms on either side of him, holding the table so he's stuck there.

"You've been resisting your urges all day. Why don't we do something about them," you press your body against his.

Faust bites his lip. Your body against his is enough to make him moan.

He's not dominant at all in this situation. He's embarrassed. Now is finally your chance to top him.

Your leg fits perfectly between his. Pressing hard against his crotch. How long has he been this hard? How is he able to get any work done like this?

You stand on your toes to kiss him, and he completely melts into you. His hips instinctively rock against your leg, trying to get any kind of friction. For once you're in control and you're really hoping that you don't mess this up.

Before he can do anything you grab him by the wrists and hold his hands down on the table. His breathing picks up and his moans get louder

"Why don't you let me help you, Docteur? You can be my patient this time."

You make sure to get close to him, your breath hitting against his skin.

He let out a groan. "Stop that."

"You're going to have to sound more convincing than that."

You let his hands go and start undoing his belts. Just as you thought, he didn't bother pushing you away. You manage to push him back on the table, and you get on top of him, straddling his lap.

He grabs your hips as he moves himself farther into the table so he isn't half way off. He quickly hitches up your skirt, squeezing your thighs, moaning as you brush against his crotch.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this needy, Docteur," after unbuttoning his collar you unzip his coat and push it open.

"Don't worry about the clothes," he snaps. He rocks his hips against you, holding you down against him for friction.

"I wish you had one of those operating tables where I could tie you down," you pout and continue to unbutton his shirt. If he got to watch you riding him, you at least wanted to look at his bare chest.

Since you're apparently too busy staring at his chest, Faust starts opening up his pants himself. You keep pouting and move his hands away to do it yourself.

You finally get his cock free and you begin to rub it. He moans louder, sounding relieved that he's finally being touched.

You swirl your thumb around his swollen tip, precum leaking out. You would be lying if you said you weren't excited too.

Holding his cock in place you sit yourself on him, slowing down at about half way. He's so much longer than you think he is.

He grips your thighs again and pulls you all the way down, moaning as his cock is fully wrapped around your walls.

You bite your lip as he rocks his hips. He holds you down on him and moans.

You grab his hands and rip them off of you, pinning them to the table, slightly lifting your hips up. He whines. "Ride me, already."

He's so close to begging. "I'm the one doing you a favor. I could get off of you right now and leave you a mess," and because it would be torture for him, you would.

You keep him pinned down and start moving your hips back and forth. He bucks his hips up, trying to get deeper in you.

"Come on," he growls.

You lift your hips up, just enough where it's just his tip in you, and you hover yourself over him.

"Ugh. What are you doing."

"Beg."

"What?"

"Tell me how badly you want me to fuck myself on you."

He definitely wasn't expecting this from you. But if he wasn't acting the way he was then you would have kept going.

He can't even buck his hips up to get any satisfaction.

You hold both of his hands above his head with one of yours so that you can grab his jaw with your other. You make him look at you. "I need my patient to tell me what he needs."

You can tell he's embarrassed. He's never been so vulnerable.

"I need you to ride me," he whines. You can see his fangs poking out. "It's hurts not to be in you."

He moves his arms against you, trying to break them free. You know he easily could, so that must mean that he likes being pinned down.

You smirk at seeing him wiggle under you and decide to go back down on him. You let his hands go and place your hands on his lower abs. Not only because you want to feel him, but to steady yourself as you go up and down on him.

Once you find a rhythm to start moving in, Fausts hands simply rest on your thighs and he moans.

For as long as he has been a vampire he's never given into what his heat wants. Now that he knows how amazing it is, he doesn't know how he avoided it.

You lift yourself up and come down on him hard. You started to pick up the pace as you got more comfortable with the motions. He may not be the railing you, but you aren't disappointed. You're the one getting to see him look at pathetic and needy now.

Faust couldn't help but thrust his hips up after some time. Meeting with you as he came down on him. You both seemed to moan in unison. His hands started to squeeze your tights more before getting closer to your crotch and beginning to rub you clit.

Your movements start to get sloppy as jolts of pleasure go through your body. You started to rock your hips as you catch your breath, and quickly Faust started to squirm under you again.

Your hands go up his torso and to his chest, feeling every hill and valley on his body. "What do you want to do to me, Docteur?"you purr, humming as you touch his body. "Tell me what you're going to do to me when I get off of you."

"I'm going to bend you over this table and tie you to it and fuck you for the rest of the day. I want you to be so filled with my cum that it's pouring down your legs."

His hand stops rubbing your clit and goes up your stomach, pressing against you to feel how deep his cock is. "You're going to be filled all the way up here with my cum."

"That sounds fun," you smirk. As your hands move across his body, one wraps around his neck, putting some pressure on the sides. "But I think I'm going to stay on you for a bit longer. You have such a cute pathetic look on your face."

He moans as your hand squeezes his neck. You start moving again quickly picking up the pace as before, starting to feel his legs shake as if he's going to cum soon.

"You can still fill me with your cum this way."

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