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wrangleandtame · 3 months ago

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Clouds Don't Perish (They Dissipate)

Think you could get off this road?” Kate hollered, “feel like I’m in a paint shaker.”

Tyler glanced at her with that mischievous smile, the one her mom had deemed his “shit-eating grin.”

“Short cut!” he yelled back.

“I can see the map, you idiot, this is twice as long!”

He shrugged, “I got you alone in this truck for the first time in a week. I’m goin’ the long way ‘round.”

“Your plan is to fuck me in some random field, isn’t it?”

He snorted, “sure as hell is now!”

He released his full-throated laugh, revealing all of his perfect teeth, crow's feet splaying out from his sunglasses. She loved that laugh; it should be labeled a contagion. The man could suss out the fun in nearly any situation, and his exuberance nearly always stirred Kate from her occasional tendency towards re-erecting emotional barriers.

This was one of THOSE moments wherein Kate perceived her own contentment: bouncing around the cab of his truck, Tyler singing (not well) along to Lydia Loveless blasting, windows down, kicking up a trail of rocks and dust behind them.

Backward cap, button-up green flannel, and the now ever-present perfectly manicured two-day scruff (possibly motivated by Kate mentioning the pleasing sensation of his unshaven face between her thighs) were absolutely doing it for her. He caught her gazing and leered back suggestively, waggling his eyebrows over the top of his sunglasses. She dissolved into laughter.

She felt her phone vibrate so she lengthened her torso and yanked it free of her side pocket. The lit screen displayed, “Mom.”

“I was just thinking about you,” she said by way of a hello.

Tyler’s head whipped back to her in interest, tipping his head low enough for his eyes to be seen over his sunglasses. He raised his eyebrows in question.

Kate mouthed “mom,” and the easy smile returned to his face. He twisted the dial, lowering the volume of the music and raised the windows with a flick of his finger.

“Hi Cathy!” he called.

“And where are you guys at today?” Cathy questioned.

“Close actually. Like, uh, 20 miles north of Tulsa,” Kate peaked at the radar projections again, hoping for something more promising. “We’ll probably stay in that area today, unless things change.”

“Well, if things don’t change and you want to come home, you can invite your crew to save a few dollars and stay at the farm.”

“Did she say hi back?” Tyler nagged, and Kate scowled and waved him off. Her mother’s aloof demeanor brought out a rare obsequious quality in Tyler, and this usually amused Kate. At the moment, she just wanted him to shut up.

“That would be amazing. I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

Tyler interrupted, “appreciate what?”

“Mom invited us all to stay at the house tonight.”

“Just made my day Cathy,” he yelled at the phone.

“It’ll be nice,” Cathy continued. “I’ll make a mess of barbecue.”

Kate’s mouth watered at the thought of real food, “that sounds so so good.”

“Call me later and let me know.”

“I will.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up, stowed her phone in her pocket, and Tyler asked again, “did she say hi back?”

“Yeah, she says hi,” she lied, and then swung her head towards the backseat to tell Addy and Praveen about the barbecue food waiting for them.

Later, even with hindsight and self-awareness intact, she would be astounded by her certainty that they had been an arm's length away, faces lit with excitement. Addy even pushed her glasses up with her wrist, just as she always had, her glasses ever-slipping and her hands ever-full.

Kate gasped and caught a peripheral of a smiling Jeb at the wheel. She threw herself against her passenger door and screwed her eyes shut, pressing the palms of her hands into her sockets.

“Kate?” Jeb said, concern lacing his voice. No, not Jeb. TYLER said, concern lacing HIS voice. Tyler Owens, she corrected her stupid brain.

“You okay?”

She didn’t look up, keeping her palms planted firmly against her eyes. A sob escaped her mouth instead of the reasonable explanation she intended. Why did she sound like that?

“Whoa, whoa. Kate? Hang on.” She felt a hand on the top of her head, but she still didn’t move. If she didn’t move, she reasoned, perhaps this nightmare would conclude quickly.

She felt the truck swerve and stop, the rumbling of the engine cut out. What should have been silence overflowed with the sounds of hyperventilating and an approaching freight train.

She felt sure her death was imminent. Her body shook uncontrollably, and her heartbeat pounded ferociously, attempting to break out from her chest. She had unconsciously pulled her knees up and had formed a tight ball with her body.

“What’s going on? Can you hear me?” Tyler sounded as if he was in a tunnel. Shit. Maybe an underpass.

She thought she might be able to speak, but gasps and sobs colonized the space where words should be.

“Can you try and look at me?”

Kate released the pressure on her eyeballs and attempted to tip her head up to see Tyler but her vision was completely blurred by tears. Was she crying?

Her teeth chattered, and Tyler placed a hand on her cheek, “I think you’re having an anxiety attack.”

“No,” she sobbed, “I don’t, I don’t have them anymore.”

Was that her voice? Kate doubted it. That didn’t sound like her.

Blurry Tyler’s head nodded, “Let’s say we just try to take some deep breaths anyway. It can’t hurt.”

She realized that the thunderous freight train was an oncoming tornado. People always describe the sound of a tornado as a train, but she wouldn’t have described it as such before now.

For her, tornadoes sounded like monsters, growling and roaring. She looked out the windows, frantically searching the bright horizon. Where was it?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Tyler cooed, “You’re okay.”

It wasn’t okay. Nothing was fucking okay.

HER tornado was coming for them, and she couldn’t even see it! She could hear the change of the roar to the cacophony of whooshing and clanging when it’s devoured Praveen and clamoring for Addy. The bellowing while yanking Jeb from atop her. The deafening barrage when it’s aiming to suck Kate out from an underpass. Fucking stop. Stop. STOP!

“Kate?” Tyler tried again.

“I can’t. Can’t make it stop,” she cried, her thoughts jumbling, her mind jumping time. Past, present, past, present.

She suddenly launched herself forward, peering into the back seat to see if they were still there. They weren’t, of course, because they were dead. They wouldn’t be eating barbecue today. Not any day. They were dead. She knew this. She’d known this for a long time.

She planted herself back in her seat, and looked into Tyler’s face, clenching with concern. Maybe worse than concern. Shit, he thought she was crazy. He had a point. Sane people don’t see ghosts. Sane people don’t hear invisible tornadoes.

She clamped her hands over her ears, trying to dampen the bellowing and keening, “Stop. I just…please stop.”

Tyler carefully pulled her hands from her ears, “Kate, look in my eyes. Can you see me?”

She focused on his vivid seaglass-green eyes. Where did his sunglasses go? She nodded and stammered, “Yes. I. Yes.”

“Okay, good. You’re doing good. Now listen to me. Stop trying to make it stop.”

Stop trying to make it stop. What the fuck was he talking about?

“Just focus on me if you can. Be here with me.” He kept her trembling hands in his, but she pulled them back from his grasp. She quickly checked the backseat again. Empty.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

She refocused upon his face, nodding.

“Atta girl, okay, we’re going to breathe together now.”

His movements seemed exaggerated, his chest and mouth moving slowly, “okay, breathing in two three four, and out two three four, breathing in two three four.”

She attempted to mimic him but couldn’t figure out the actual mechanics of breathing, and this terrified her even more than riding shotgun with her dead friends.

“Can’t,” she shook harder, her teeth clacking together. How do you breathe!? How?

“That’s okay, that’s okay. I’m going to breathe and you just listen. You’re doing fine.”

“Not fine,” she stammered.

“You will be. Y’hear me? This won’t last much longer. It’ll be over soon. You’re gonna be okay.”

She shook her head; nothing was okay.

“C’mon Kate, let’s get some air. It’ll do you good.”

“No!” she grabbed his forearm, frantically looking outside. Didn’t he know how much danger he was in? A new wave of fear rippled through her body.

“You’re safe. I promise,” the sincerity in his voice almost made her believe him. “Let’s look at some clouds. You’re not in any danger. It’s going to be okay Kate. Trust me.”

He placed his rough warm hand over hers, and she looked at his arm where she clutched him, knuckles white, fingernails plugged into his skin. She felt paralyzed. She couldn’t even rotate her eyes off the soft hairs on his tawny arm.

“I’ll be with you, and we’ll just look at some clouds. Just you and me. Just Tyler and Kate, okay?”

She had no memory of agreeing, of releasing his arm, or of him exiting the truck and moving to her door. She blinked, and he leaned in the open passenger-side door, expectantly waiting for her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do or say. Did he ask her a question?

His face was achingly soft, eyes balmy with affection. He slipped his arm around her back and one under her knees, “this okay?”

She nodded, and he scooped her into his arms, lifting her from the truck cab and using his booted foot to close the creaking metal truck door.

He crossed the road and ambled into a low-growing field of green. He carried her, but she was the one panting in uneven sporadic bursts, clutching handfuls of his soft flannel shirt.

He murmured softly to her as he walked through the field, “it’s alright. You’re alright Kate. I’m right here. Just going to look at some clouds. Just breathe. You’re alright.”

She tucked her head against his chin, desperately attempting to anchor time to his voice.

“This looks like a good spot. We’re going to sit for a spell and see if we can find some clouds, okay?”

“K,” she mumbled, and she felt him nuzzle her forehead with his scratchy chin.

“Smell that?” He lowered them to the earth with a soft grunt, her body draped across his lap.

“Do you smell the clovers, Kate? They’re blooming. Love these. White ones smell better than the crimson ones.”

She could smell them. The growing ground heat released the morning petrichor from last night’s rain - wet and sweet with a light floral perfume.

“Smells nice,” she mumbled, and he gave her a praiseful squeeze in response.

“Bumblebees are louder than the damn birds. You hear em?”

He was purposefully engaging her senses, she realized. How did he know what to do? Why couldn’t she remember? She was the one who had over forty of the damn things. New York rules: if at work, run to the restroom, hide in the stall, and endlessly flush the toilet to cover sounds of crying and panting. Fucking useless skills in this situation.

He considered the sky for a moment and then smiled down at her face, “look up Kate.”

She tilted her head back, neck cradled in the crook of his arm, and saw the sky bluer than it had a right to be. To the east, she spotted a big bouncy cumulonimbus tower with a bulbous bottom layer.

“What are you seeing?”

“Mammatus,” she whispered.

He chuckled happily, “yep. What else?”

She watched them move for a moment, a gorgeous slow roll. Her eyes caught another edge of the sky, and she lifted her heavy arm, which felt weirdly unattached. She wiggled her fingers. They did what she told them, so they must be hers. Raising her thumb to the sky, she measured a cloud.

“What time is it?” She croaked, throat dry, her voice slightly foreign to her.

He raised his wrist, “let’s see, it’s uh nine fifteen am.”

“Altocumulus.”

“Damn straight, altocumulus. Beautiful, huh?”

“Beautiful,” she agreed. She knew they were beautiful, but she didn’t actually feel the beauty.

He shifted her off of his lap, arm still curved under her neck and tentatively lowered them both to the soft bed of green clovers, “better vantage.”

She barely noticed, following the white clouds with her eyes like a meditation.

After a few moments, he pointed at the sky, “dragon.”

She followed his finger and spotted the dragon in the clouds, “I see it.”

She pointed next to it, closing one eye to better focus her vision, “banana.”

“Yup.”

The dragon’s torso elongated and detached, and its head resembled a dot to a dot from her childhood activity books.

Tyler pointed at the dissipating dragon head, “oatmeal.”

“Cheating.”

“It’s not cheating. It’s oatmeal. Oh, oh, wait, no, now it’s grits.”

She smiled - the impulse natural, the action dull and stiff. She only heard birds tweeting, Tyler’s soft breathing, and an occasional bee buzzing by.

This was when she realized that she wasn’t panting, crying or hallucinating. She felt slowed like moving through water, and a debilitating mix of shame, embarrassment, and guilt settled within her chest.

“We should go,” she frowned and tried to sit up, seized by dizziness.

“Should we?” Tyler sat up and placed his hand on the middle of her back. She pulled away with none of the subtlety she intended.

“We were supposed to meet up at that QT off seventy-five ages ago Tyler.” Look at Kate, stringing a full coherent sentence together.

“I called Boone. Remember? Told everyone to meet us at your mom’s.”

When did that happen? Tyler’s face telegraphed that she should easily recall this memory, and she hadn’t even a hazy version floating around in her mind. Nothing.

“Oh,” she said dumbly. “Sorry.”

“For what?” He asked, cupping her elbow with his hand.

“Don’t,” she pulled her arm from him.

“Okay,” he scooched himself back a bit with a kindness she interpreted as pity.

“Sorry,” she snapped, knowing she sounded irrationally angry, but completely unable to control her tone.

“S’okay Kate,” he folded his elbows over his knees and picked a white clover flower, spinning it between his index and thumb.

She lay flat on her back so she could again stare at the sky and not his sweet ridiculously understanding expression.

“It’s not okay. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“Not your fault.”

“It really is,” she glanced at him.

He cocked his head, “a panic attack isn’t your fault.”

“Maybe not that.”

He tentatively lowered himself alongside her, giving her more space than she now actually wanted. A moment ago she felt too ashamed to have his hands on her, and now she wanted to climb inside him and disappear. Make up your mind, Kate.

After a bit of silence, he asked, “your friends? Is that what you think is your fault.”

“That was my fault,” she scoffed. “It’s pretty well universally agreed that they died as a consequence of my reckless actions.”

“Who the fuck would agree with that?” His outraged tone astonished her. She found it unnatural to see the fire in his eyes presenting as fury instead of desire. “Someone blame you for what happened? Who?”

Instinctually, she tempered his anger with vague assurances, “it doesn’t matter. It’s stupid. My point was that I don’t need you to tell me that it wasn’t my fault. Can’t change it anyway.”

He sighed audibly, “I know you’re freakishly good at finding tornadoes, honey, but you don’t got dominion over ‘em. Got some omnipotent power I’m unaware of?”

They quieted, and she tried to not mentally replay her panic attack in a feeble attempt to avoid a self-conscious rut.

“It’s just so beyond fucking humiliating.”

Surprise flashed in his expression, “but, Kate, it’s just me.”

She couldn’t look at his face, so she looked at the sky again, “I don’t want you to see me like that.”

“Beautiful and brave?”

“I’m not sure I’m either of those things at the moment.”

“This is grief and trauma and your body reacting to that.”

“It’s been almost six years!”

“Not a set time for this shit, Kate. So just try to be gentle with yourself, will ya?”

She reached for his hand, grasping at his rough fingertips.

“Hasn’t happened in so long. Just surprised me.

“Do you know what happened?”

“I, um, I saw them. In the truck.”

“Saw who?”

She blinked and tried to say their names.

Tyler filled in the blanks like he majored in it, “oh, Addy and Praveen?”

She nodded.

“Jeb too?”

Their names sounded wrong in his mouth, but she drew comfort from his familiarity with what mattered to her. They mattered.

“Mmhm.”

“I figured.”

“You figured?”

“Yeah.”

She almost laughed, incredulous, “you FIGURED that I hallucinated my very dead friends sitting in the backseat of your truck?”

He smirked, “Something along those lines. My brother, he had panic attacks. PTSD from Afganistan.”

“I didn’t know that; you never talk about him.”

“We don’t see each other much; he lives in Idaho. I was only ten when he came back. Brain injury from an IED. I sat with him a lot during his panic attacks.”

She mentally conjured an image of child-Tyler, “that’s an awful lot for a ten-year-old.”

He winked, “well, I was an exceptional kid.”

“I bet you were,” she smiled genuinely, her face now just a foot from his.

“Once we figured out most of his triggers, that helped loads.”

“I think it was the barbecue.”

“What?

“Barbecue. My mom, when she called, she offered for the team to stay over and said she’d make barbecue, and she said the same thing the day they died,” her speech gradually took on a frenetic pace, “and just like I was on automatic, I started to tell them, Praveen and Addy, you know, and they were there, and then it was happening all over again, and you know the shittiest thing? It’s that really here I am, and they’re not. And did I learn anything, no, I’m just doing it all over again really, just in a truck with you, taking people I care about to their deaths and am I doing the same thing, did I learn a fucking thing? No, no, I just keep doing what I want to do because I’m so goddamned selfish and -“

Her chin started to quiver, and she became breathless again when Tyler interrupted, “you’re the least selfish person I know.”

He brushed her hair back from her face, “also the most logical, so listen up: the team was here doin’ our thing before you met us. We’d be here if we’d NEVER met you. But Kate, with you, we just do more good, get more accomplished and generally have more fun. All because YOU are with us.”

Her eyes began leaking again, and she whispered, “want you to be okay.”

“Me? I’m here, next to you, on this gorgeous day. Kate, I’m better than okay.”

With the shuddering breaths of a child all cried out, “I’m so fucking scared. I just. I don’t want. I don’t want you to die.”

She couldn’t fathom why she would say this out loud, when she barely recognized the truth herself. She felt pathetic and vulnerable, a combination she attempted to avoid at all times.

“Oh Kate, darlin’ I’m not going anyplace.” He smiled his sweet little smile, soft wet eyes pleading with her, “thought I told you to be gentle to yourself.”

She leaned her face into his hand, and inched closer to his chest. Tyler wrapped his arms around her pulling her flush against him. She buried her head in his chest and wept, grateful he didn’t shush her. They let the tears and the little hiccups fade in their own time, his hand tenderly holding her head against him. Her body relaxed into him, and she didn’t feel out of control. Just absolutely fucking heartbroken and so incredibly exhausted.

She didn’t remember falling asleep; all she knew was awaking sweaty and confused within Tyler’s embrace.

“I fell asleep.”

His voice was deep and rumbly, “sure did.”

She rolled onto her back, studying the grey sky, the sun’s blanketed halo in a confusing position.

“Jesus, what time is it?”

“One O’clock.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s fine Kate.”

“It’s fine?”

She peered up at his ridiculously handsome face, “where’s the team?”

“Remember, they’re at your moms? I texted them to meet us there.”

“Are they angry? That we missed an entire day?”

“No one expressed anything other than being thrilled to go to your mom’s house. Everything fizzled out anyway.”

“Do they know? That I…?”

“Hm? Oh, no. That’s your call to make.”

She kissed his jaw and he peered down at her, “okay?”

She answered him by climbing onto his lap, straddling him. He sat up, clutching her, thumbs rolling around her hipbones.

“Feelin’ better, honey?”

“I don’t know,” she responded honestly. “I don’t want to think about it right now. Just so tired.”

She brushed her thumbs along the grey hairs at his temples and kissed him slowly, stilling her mind to focus only on his soft salty mouth.

He ended the kiss after a moment and pulled his face back, examining her expression.

“What?”

“Just catching up,” he whispered.

“What does that mean? You don’t want to -“

“I want you now and always,” he pulled her hips tightly into his hard-on to punctuate his point. “Just checking in first.”

He captured her mouth with his, asserting his desire, and they made love in that clover field, just as Kate had predicted at the beginning of this unexpectedly fraught day.

A comfort-cloaked drive to her mom’s house further eased any remaining anxiety. Tyler played Songs: Ohia, Magnolia Electric Co, (for her, she knew) the windows down and warm air whipping her hair around as they distanced themselves from the morning’s pain.

When they approached the signs for her hometown, she turned down the music, “Tyler?”

Her voice hitched, and she swallowed down tears that threatened a comeback.

“Yeah?”

She summoned all her sincerity, “thank you.”

“Anytime, Sapulpa,” he smiled, “You know that, right? Anytime. Anyplace. Whatever you need. Whenever. I’m all yours.”

She ran her hand lovingly down his arm, shoulder to wrist, “ditto.”

When they pulled up to a stop in the driveway, the sun rested low in the sky. Besides daybreak, this was Kate’s favorite time of day, even as a child. All the work usually done, the day’s heat assuaged, dog-day cicadas quieted, and the sticky air would a call for iced sweet tea in jelly jars and unchallenging conversations on a creaky porch.

Tyler and Kate walked together through the cool grass. As they approached the picnic table flush with their friends, everyone turned towards them like flowerheads to the sun.

“What kept ya?” Boone yelled as they got closer.

Tyler began to answer, but Kate cut him off neatly, “I had some trauma hallucinations, an enormous panic attack, passed out for hours and then seduced Tyler in a clover field.”

Tyler held up the grocery bag in his hand, “and we brought chips.”

She only let the awkward silence, shocked stares and open mouths sit for half a minute, “so, is there any of my mom’s potato salad left?”

Lily recovered quickly, “yeah, totally, Kate hand me one of those plates, and I’ll get you some.”

Kate passed her a plate, and Lily smiled as she scooped a generous glob, “sorry bout your panic attack. I got them for awhile back in the day. They suck. Hard.”

“They do. Thanks Lily,” Kate nodded grateful for the generous normalization Lily offered.

Dexter, adept at all types of navigating, added, “It's a good thing you got here when you did. I was going back in for another helping. Your mom could tempt angels with this potato salad.”

“Right?” Kate laughed, “where is she, anyway?”

“I think she was getting watermelon,” Dani said and jumped up from the table, “I’ll go help her. I gotta pee anyway.”

She quickly squeezed Kate’s arm affectionately as she passed and raised her eyebrows at Tyler when she sauntered passed.

“So tell me, what did this clover field seduction include?” Boone queried.

“It includes you shutting the fuck up,” Tyler’s voice was playful, but he shot Boone a disapproving look, as he pulled a plate from the stack and began piling on ribs, brisket and chicken drumsticks.

Boone raised his hands in surrender, “that’s fine, that’s fine. I’ve got an imagination.”

Lily rolled her eyes, “don’t be gross, Boone.”

“What?” he laughed, and with every passing moment, their usual ease of comradery returned.

While she was conscious that evening, Tyler positioned his hand either upon her shoulder or entwined in her fingers, tethering her to the moments in front of her. At night, he settled in her bed, ready to pull her back should she start to slip into the past.

He was generous, loving, kind, and patient. So, of course, she didn’t believe it could possibly last. She consciously tried not to stew in the terror of its inevitable end (their relationship, not his life, she isn’t thinking about that.)

Instead, she attempted to soak in the (likely evanescent) Tyler minutiae: memorizing his specific expressions and predictable reactions, the dust and detergent smell of his soft flannels, his thin pink lips, his stiff jeans that invited lascivious thoughts, and that devastatingly infectious, nearly ever-present smile.

**AUTHORS NOTES

I saw Twisters a couple weeks ago and came home and wrote this and three other stories. Then I went on AO3 and read EVERYTHING, and saw that others had written goddamned BRILLIANT pieces on the same subject. Discouraged about my own writing quality, I wasn’t going to post it. Since then, I’ve read nearly everything else posted in this fandom and realized that maybe creating and sharing imperfection is part of our fanfic social contract. This is writing potluck. As in, consume < create. In that spirit, here was one of my little fics. Hope it brought you a few minutes of the joy so many others bring me in their writings.

#tyler x kate #twisters #glen powell #tyler owens #twisters fanfic #twisters fanfiction #twisters 2024 #kate carter #daisy edgar jones #tyler owens x kate carter #whump #whump writing #whump twisters

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silksongeveryday · 1 year ago

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Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 200!!!

(huge thanks to this person for the art suggestion!! <3)

I genuinely can’t believe that I’ve made it to 200 days, it’s truly been wild how time flies by like that and the amount of doodles I’ve made during that time. Over 200 doodles (217 to be exact if we’re counting double pictures/extra doodles) have been made over the past 200 days. :0

And thank you all so much for the love and support! Not only have we reached 200 days but also 1400+ followers about a week ago! <3

But, having said that I’d like to make a few announcements—some good, some not so great—about a few things regarding the blog, myself, and other stuff.

Putting it all under the cut so the post isn’t long if you’d like to know more

______________________________

Announcements!

My pfp!

1.) I’ll be changing my pfp again!! I’ve officially decided that after every 100 days or so I’ll change up the pfp so it’s up to date with my doodle style (assuming it changed at all lol), but generally it’ll look relatively the same as the last!

Possibly more admins?

2.) As of right now I’m looking into the idea/possibility of having a second (maybe third?) person help me with daily doodles! As much as I’d like to keep doodling everyday there are some days that it can be tough or some situation might be happening. (i.e. recently got injured)

See, the problem is I don’t exactly have a proper way of trying this out??? My idea was to maybe do this through dms or more preferably Google Forms. I also don’t really know what form of communication afterward would be best either, suggestions to help me work this out would be great! (as you can tell I’m not very good at this stuff lol)

Commissions!

3.) After much consideration and a lot of thought, I’ve decided that in the near future, I’ll be opening commissions again for the first time in years. I don’t have everything set up quite yet, but expect more info in the near future!

About requests:

4.) You may have noticed recently that I haven’t been doing as many doodle requests recently. Sure, there’s usually quite a few in a row at once but you may have noticed I’ve also been doing “non-requested” doodles aka ones that I just do on my own.

Expect this to become a very normal thing going forward. I probably won’t be doing as many requests as before because frankly with the amount of requests I get daily when it’s open is a lot to handle sometimes. Does this mean requests will be stopped entirely? No, I’ll still do some occasionally, but not as much as I have in the past.

Also I’ll likely be doing strictly anonymous requests.

About Burnout:

5.) Alright let’s address the elephant in the room.

There have been quite a few instances where people have wondered if I would ever have burnout and have occasionally joked about “dying” from said burnout because “Silksong will never release, you’ll be doing this forever” etc etc.

In the past I’ve been fine, motivation has been great, but recently I’ve noticed it a little bit.

Unfortunately life has its own plans so it can be a little hard for me to make a doodle that day, expecially recently since I’ve been experiencing personal/medical issues. It’s part of the reason I’m hoping to get a second (maybe third) person to help me do daily doodles so I can take a little bit of the load off my shoulders.

So what does this mean for this blog?

Not much right now. But in the future, there may be some changes. My current plan is to keep going on daily doodles/posts for the length of a standard year, so roughly 365 days. After that, if things in personal life keep up the way they have, I may have to stop daily doodles and instead will post only if I have time. That likely means doodles every other day or every three days or something. At the very least I’ll still post a doodle once a week.

Not to worry though! I’ll still try my best even after I reach day 365 :)

I’ll discuss how things work a little more on my main @miizori later, but that’s as much as I can think to explain rn.

———————————————

Just a few more things I wanted to say!

This community has been so cool to interact with, so much tamer than some others I’ve been apart of in the past. I’m genuinely thankful for how much support and how nice everyone has been. I truly didn’t expect to get this far, I was fully expecting to have stopped like 10 doodles in lol. I especially love to see all your comments in the tags and people sharing their art. You’re all so cool :)))

I have a dtiys from back when I reached 300 followers that’s still available if you’re feeling up to it!

Also my main (again, @miizori) is where I make updates on doodle stuff, regular art stuff and so on if you’re interested at all in that lol

I think that’s all that I can remember wanting to say, so thanks!! I look forward to more doodles for you all :)

#hollow knight #silksong #hk hornet #hollow knight hornet #silksong hornet #hk shade lord #shade lord #hollow knight shade lord #hollow knight fanart #hk fanart #silksongeveryday

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pigeonp0st · 8 months ago

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heelloo!! uhm i was thinking could u write an agatha harkness x reader one with Agatha sees r with another person (just as closer friends but Agatha doesn’t know it). Then Agatha invites r to her house and Agatha has to bite down on their lip so hard whenever r talks about the other person, angst with happy ending please (and if your are comfortable, maybe you can add smut)?

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary:

Agatha gets jealous of your relationship with Wanda. Emotion ensues.

Warning:

Jealousy, angst (not really)

Notes:

Thanks for the request! I wrote this pretty fast and have not even read it over once…I’ll probably fix it up later…anyways! Hope you enjoy still <3 I always love an Agatha request

——

Agatha stopped Wanda for you. She brought down Westview, and forced Wanda into reality. In the process she ruined both of their fantasies; Wanda’s fantasy of a perfect life, and Agathas of all consuming power.

She did it for you. Because the prospect of power was nothing compared to the prospect of your devastation. Because you asked her to. You with your warm eyes, full of more emotion and humanity than both Agatha and Wanda have in power combined.

You asked her to, and there was no other option.

So no. She doesn’t regret it. Doesn’t regret trailing behind you and Wanda to help the Avengers, doesn’t regret following you. Can’t possibly. She doesn’t regret it, but Wanda smiles at you, leans in close, and Agatha feels a bit like she’s been betrayed. Betrayed because you smile back, and whisper something into Wanda’s ear that makes her flush a color that’s just perfect for the Scarlett Witch.

Agatha grits her teeth and returns to her book. She’s lived centuries and has never felt more childish.

It shouldn’t bother how close you and Wanda have gotten, she knows. She has no right to feel betrayed. She hasn’t done anything she’s done expecting anything more than your happiness. You aren’t hers.

You aren’t hers, and so Agatha just fumes silently in the corner of the room and imagines burning this whole damn tower down.

You don’t even know how Agatha cares, she knows. Every bit of vulnerability, love, and affection is hidden behind layers of humor and sarcasm.

You watch Agatha with distrust still because of it; wondering about alternative motives. Everyone in this god forsaken tower does, and Agatha has no idea why she’s here giving up centuries of planning for this game. These people are no different to those in Westview. Children playing dress up and pretend. All of them wearing costumes of heroes who aren’t afraid.

Cowards. All of them.

Your loud laugh draws Agatha’s attention from her page. Wanda is smiling at you with a gentleness Agatha can’t afford, and Agatha thinks, both with affection and a heavy heart; all of them but you.

She knows that despite her help she has given no one here good reason to trust her. She admits to herself that she enjoys letting them think she’s scheming—that she plays into it.

They’re just as uncaring for her as she is them. They push her away, but all you do is pull her in. To be brave and foolish is one in the same to Agatha, and she loves you for all the things she can’t afford to be.

—-

It’s only the next day that Agatha walks into the compound looking for you. She wants your help to test her potion.

She’s been visiting every day this week, and she’s beginning to feel a bit like the person she thought she wouldn’t ever be again. She’s beginning to settle into the thoughts instead of jerk away.

Then she sees you. You’re on top of Wanda, both you and her sleeping peacefully on the couch. Your head on her chest, her hand threaded in your hair, your legs intertwined.

The glass potion in Agatha’s hand shatters violently and loudly, startling only Wanda awake. She jerks and snaps her eyes towards Agatha, always on edge after being raised in war. Their eyes meet for only a second, and then both turn back to you, still sleeping peacefully.

Agatha turns on her heel. Wanda says, with a knowing that ruins her; “wait—”

Agatha, cowardly, no different than the people she despises, and never having claimed otherwise, teleports away.

—-

Agatha avoids the compound for just a week before she caves and invites you over.

She can’t bear to see Wanda, which is a new thing because usually she enjoys tormenting her. The image of her protective hand tangled in your hair, and your possessive leg thrown over her is still fresh in Agatha’s mind though.

Then there’s the text Wanda sent after Agatha left; filled with the same knowing Agatha sensed with her departure. You’re 5 years old.

(Then a bit later; whatever was in that potion melted through the compound. I hope you can magic up some money to fix your tantrum.)

Agatha, the picture of wisdom, sends Wanda two middle fingers and then blocks her.

So, naturally, she’s glad when you show up only an hour after Agatha’s text. No Wanda, for the first time in weeks.

At least—that’s what Agatha expected. It’s an hour later and all you’ve talked about is Wanda. Wanda this, Wanda that. Agatha has always had a challenge with patience, it’s always the biggest challenge of her schemes, and biting on her lip is barely constraining her from lashing out at this point.

It’s when Agatha tones your voice out though, that she notices the hunch to your shoulders, the heaviness in your eyes.

And the bruise around your neck. Why hadn’t she noticed sooner? “Who did this to you?”

Agatha drops her dishes immediately, rushing to where you’re seated at the kitchen island. She thinks; who, who, with a desperate frustration as she tilts your head up to inspect the injury. She’ll kill them. Kill them.

For now, she pulls her magic forward, setting to the task of healing the violence inflicted on you, but you pull away from Agatha just as suddenly as she calls on her magic; angry in a way Agatha is caught off guard by.

“All you are is hot and cold,” you mutter, looking away. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days and you haven’t responded, then I come as soon as you call and you ignore me for an hour. Now…now you suddenly care that I’m hurt?”

Agatha blinks, once, twice, and then you’re standing up and pacing her kitchen. Agatha stands, hand still hovering where it was touching your cheek, and watches.

“If you’re done—If you’ve already gotten what you needed from us, whatever it is, and are done, just tell me. Tell me and stop pretending to care,” you plead. Agatha notices the dark circles under your eyes. Notices all the parts of you that are dimmed now that she’s not stuck on Wanda, Wanda. “I can’t play pretend like you do, Ag. I don’t get what it serves you to act like you care about me. I have nothing to offer.”

You’re spiraling in the middle of Agatha’s kitchen, and Agatha is torn between all of the parts of herself. The one that wants to laugh and brush this all aside, the one that wants to comfort you, the one that wants to kiss you, and the one she settles on; the version of her that’s angry and feeling misunderstood by the person she knows she’s done everything to deceive.

She’s not often hit by regret, or not often this out of control over her own emotions. It makes her angrier. Angrier because it takes her back and makes her feel younger than she’s been in centuries. She’s not that child anymore, can’t be.

Don’t you get that you’re ruining her?

—-

“I care,” Agatha whispers urgently, silently fuming and with her face morphed into a frustrated scowl. “Of course I care,” she says, like it should have never been in question—because she’s made it so clear apparently, you think disbelievingly, unable to help the scoff that chokes out of you.

Yeah right.

With more disappointment than Agatha could ever understand, you shake your head. “The only thing you care about, Agatha, is power. You tell me yourself all the time. I just thought— ” you pause, untamed tears coming to your eyes. “I don’t know what I thought…”

The moment the words leave your lips, you and Agatha enter into a standoff. Agatha furious and raging, and you too wrapped in your own emotions to register it as it is.

Agatha angry for the first time—at this. At the doubting of her care. It should say all you need to know, but you’ve missed it completely now that you’ve stopped looking.

It’s another moment of glaring before Agatha scoffs and stalks forward, pushing you into the wall and trapping you. Anyone else would be scared, but you just continue to glare (even as you flush).

There’s a part of you somewhere, one you don’t notice, but that Agatha does. A part of you that knows Agatha would never hurt you.

“I’m too old for this, ” Agatha grits out, and then her hand is around your throat. You don’t even flinch. Aren’t even surprised when you feel the rush of healing magic. All you’re surprised about is just that— your lack of surprise.

Agatha’s eyes turn inspecting, she shifts your head to the side with her other hand, ignoring your protests. You’re beginning to feel like a child, beginning to see things as they are.

Of course Agatha cares, you know. Somehow it hurts just as much. How could she both care and be so unpredictable, so cold? Had she thought of how you’d feel at all when you ignored her for the week? The other Avengers grew suspicious, checking everywhere around the compound for something stolen. You thought something terrible happened to her.

Only Wanda seemed unbothered. “She’s just throwing a tantrum,” she said, and wouldn’t explain further.

“Who did this?” Agatha repeats, pulling you from your thoughts.

“It was a mission”, you explained, the fire leaving you with it. You can’t afford to be mad at Agatha. You need and miss her too much.

Agatha growls, not settled at all. “Isn’t Wanda supposed to be protecting you?” She asks venomously, her jaw tightening along with her hand. “What good is your little girlfriend if she can’t even do that?”

It’s so laced with bitterness, with wanting, you’re left to blink at her, utterly shocked. Does Agatha think—? Wanda’s voice comes to your head; “she saw us cuddling and looked like she was going to murder me with the shattered glass in her hand.”

Seriously?

“What?” Agatha asks, self conscious in a way she never is. Self conscious because she likes—possibly loves you back.

All of this week’s turmoil, and for what? Because the two of you love each other?

—

You’re grinning at Agatha now, and Agatha is completely suspicious and unnerved. She tries to step back but you capture her wrists, pull her even closer.

Agatha’s heart pounds at the look on your face. Like a Cheshire cat. She can’t escape the feeling that she’s been caught. She eyes you with uneasiness.

You look at her expectantly now. “So much wisdom and yet you’re still so stupid?”

“Stupid?” Agatha repeats with disgust, like the word isn’t even in the dictionary.

You nod. “Agatha,” you breathe, affectionately. Agatha feels her world shift. “You know I love you, don’t you? Wanda is only ever going to be my frie—”

Agatha doesn’t let you finish. Couldn’t bear too. She’s always standing on the precipice of something. Always hovering over lines, too impatient to stand back, and your I love you snaps Agatha forward, like she’s been waiting for it for centuries. She kisses you roughly, pushing you back against the wall, and tries to claim it.

I love you, to the person who has never felt loved. She turned her back on love the moment love turned her back on her. She was only a teenager then, realizing that there was not a strength she could have that would make her enough for her mother—for her clan. There was not a person she could be beside herself, and never a version that wasn’t lacking, just out of reach of affection.

Then you. You showed up in Westview, strong enough to break in unaffected, and suspicious of Agatha, suspicious and then knowing, but still caring through it, and Agatha felt herself enough in the moments her mother would have claimed were her weakest; her moments where she was vulnerable and honest.

She kisses you like you’re her testament of her strength, now. Like you’re a testament of just how enough she is. She’s always been wanting, and doesn’t know how to exist without it. Without the yearning of; more, more, more, but as her kisses slow down, turn loving instead of passionate, she thinks for the first time that to exist like this—for the first time at peace, is something she could get used to forever.

You’re breathing heavily when Agatha breaks away, completely flustered and shaken. Agatha feels her heart pick up again, and thinks, no—she’ll always be wanting, and moves in to kiss you again.

You laugh, so joyful and happy—because of her. Because of her—a hand over Agatha’s mouth to stop her. “Are we ever going to talk?” You wonder breathlessly. “About feelings? About where you got that idea about Wanda and me?

Agatha pulls your hand away, smiles devilishly and possessively. “After I’ve had you against every corner of this house, we’ll invite Wanda over and talk over everything you’d like.”

You groan in exasperation, but there’s no protesting when Agatha kisses you next, and from the way you practically fall into the way Agatha’s hand curls loosely around your neck, she doesn’t expect one anytime soon.

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a-kaash-me-outside · 2 years ago

Text

the walls are thin - ch3

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall. previous | ch3 | next [masterlist]

// perfectly inconsiderate, maybe cluelessly oblivious ~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 6733 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: soft self-indulgent flirtationship with hanamaki, 18+ masturbation (and eventual smut), feelings are confusing, flirting is also confusing (but prevalent), seijoh4 hangout session, more lunch dates, flustered contact, afab reader she/her pronouns oh and ofc she's got a playlist (♡)

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

this has happened before. this isn’t some new phenomenon taking you by surprise. this has happened many times before, actually. this isn’t out of the ordinary for your overly sexually active, inconsiderate, unknown neighbor.

but for some stupid reason it feels out of the ordinary for atsumu. not miya atsumu, the name on the door of your irritatingly thoughtless neighbor, but for atsumu, the one you texted for two weeks straight and that commented on every single one of your vacation photos with silly inside jokes and who called you to talk about his first day back at volleyball practice.

you knew this time was coming sooner or later, or, in hindsight, you should have. he didn’t just magically change who he was because he met you and he admitted it himself, he only really started hanging out with you because he wanted to fuck you. and you don’t blame him for that. your motives were similar at first.

the shift from strangers to flirting strangers to friends was a bit more difficult than you thought it would be, especially when you haven’t really moved on from the whole flirting bit or the whole wanting to be more than friends but not wanting to ruin the rest of your last college year bit.

you know him now. maybe not know him, but you know enough, more than nothing, so being here, consciously listening to the first time that atsumu has fucked someone since you moved from nothing to something just isn’t sitting right with you. not that you can even really focus on the noises if you wanted to, not with all of this thinking going on in your head.

your stomach drops.

this actually probably isn’t the first time that he’s fucking someone since you met. he probably picked back up on this routine the second that volleyball stopped for spring break and the realization is really making your stomach hurt. the thought of him with someone else, texting you before and after, is having too much of an effect on you.

the only saving grace is that you can’t hear them, not the beds or the impact, but them. you’re not sure you could’ve ever recovered from that, not now. the air of the situation has already changed just from knowing him, but if you had to hear him too, you’re not sure you could have continued down this path of friendship. more than that, it feels like a betrayal, creepy maybe, and, at the very least, weird for you. you feel like a stranger in your own home. you can barely think as you swallow the lump in your throat. there’s so much on your mind, so many feelings swarming around you and you can feel every single one on your skin even if you can’t identify some of them.

and underneath it all, a small but persistent sting.

you can’t be here a second longer.

even as you close your door softly behind you, your chest feels tight. through your entire walk, your chest feels tight. you’re no longer in your room, but you can still feel the rhythm beneath your sternum. you shake your head, arms, all the way out to your hands, trying to get this feeling off of your body, sitting in anticipation as you wait for a response to your knocking.

“not fucking this again, you’re lucky-,” maki says, hushed but forceful, throwing open the door. whatever was about to come out of his mouth dissipates in his throat before it can even reach his tongue. he moves aside from the door, giving you plenty of space to leave the openness of the hallway. his features quickly morph into concern and now you’re feeling bad that you’re making it somebody else’s problem.

he locks the door quickly and pulls you into his room. only when his door is also shut and locked behind the two of you does he speak, “what happened?”

you’re silent for what feels like the better half of an hour, though realistically you’re sure is a handful of minutes. “‘ts stupid,” you mumble, shaking your head. you still feel small, but you’re starting to feel a bit more normal as maki wraps his fingers around your forearm.

from the second that he saw you, he knew that whatever happened had something to do with your previously shitty turned okay turned shitty again obviously neighbor. he asks anyways, “did atsumu do something?”

you don’t try to, in fact, you actively try not to, but the events are too recent, mind too swarming to have as much control as you’d like; you wince at his name. despite everything you’re feeling, somehow you’re still able to focus on maki as he warms, mouth opening to spout something loud, but shutting to be replaced with a calm exhale. what he really wants to do is go over there at this exact second, but what he needs to do is just be there for you.

you shrug your shoulders a bit, pathetic laugh leaving your chest at the pure familiarity of it all, “lover boy’s at it again.” the confusion that takes on maki’s face is gone just as quickly, waiting for you to explain rather than make assumptions. you continue, “it’s been three weeks with nothing and then -”

maki interrupts you, sitting on his bed and smoothing the space next to him. you sit, back against the wall, legs crossed, head hanging. you explain everything to him and it’s hard to remember that all of this happened just a few hours ago. the lunch, the weird thing atsumu said to you, the hurt that you noticed on his face, the note he left you, the cactus, your feelings every step of the way.

by the end of it your head is on maki’s pillow facing maki whose head is also on his pillow and he has the slightest, feather-like, ghosting touch on your hip and you’re slowly forgetting the distress you were in earlier. maki’s always had that effect on you, really.

“you’re welcome to stay over until-,” he starts, but you cut him off, shaking your head.

“no, i have to…,” you pause. have to what? “i have to do it, stay over at my own place and stuff. i can’t keep hiding at yours every time something happens,” you reason, and it feels good coming out of your mouth. it feels like progress. “i will take you up on that offer tonight, obviously, because i’m not moving from this very spot.” there isn’t much space between the two of you, but you’re determined for their to be none, scooching closer, forehead resting on his shoulder.

“tomorrow night i’ll sort myself out, wear headphones or something, i don’t know.” as you shrug, your arm moves against his, just another reminder of how close you are to him.

the two of you sit in silence for a minute and it’s nice to be able to not feel like you have to keep talking in an attempt to feel better. you pull back, just a few inches, to look at him, “but it’s nice that you’d let me stay here indefinitely,” you smile, a real smile, a lightness returning again if only for a moment.

he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead. “unfortunately,” he jokes, “i would do just about anything for you, so.”

“i think that’s pretty fortunate for me,” you laugh softly, and you really do mean it.

/++/

you make true to your promise. the next day you stay in despite how much you want to leave your room and go anywhere else.

> maki ♡ / 12:32 am > futon/bed is open if tonight’s too much btw

< 12:32 am < should be okay < but ty < will update you tomorrow < wish me luck

> maki ♡ / 12:33 am > nah > you don’t need it

the anticipation is almost worse than it just happening. you wait and wait and wait for the inevitable noise to come, but it doesn’t. by 1 am you’re wondering why you just haven’t gone to sleep yet. by 2 am you know that it’s because you want to know if something is going to happen. by 3 am you can barely keep your eyes open and he’s done it again, inadvertently fucked up your sleep schedule.

two more nights go by and nothing, both peaceful, quiet nights that you would’ve killed for at the beginning of the semester. now even these feel sour.

it really can’t get any worse than this.

/++/

> miya atsumu / 11:23 am > are you avoiding me?

shit.

in the span of these three anticipatory days, you hadn’t seen atsumu, not in the hallway or around campus. that could potentially have been on account of you not being in your dorm building except to sleep and avoiding common student areas like the plague. potentially.

you weren’t necessarily avoiding him, just the places where you had the highest chance of running into him. there’s a difference.

< 12:01 pm < lol no

> miya atsumu / 12:03 pm > prove it. let’s go get lunch

shit.

/++/

you get there first, set out a small blanket in the far corner past the busy areas around the student union. of course you agreed to go and of course you felt like you might puke but you couldn’t just avoid him for the rest of the year and the longer you waited, the worse it would get.

at least you had time to prepare yourself, fiddled with the lunch that you had grabbed, told yourself everything would probably be fine, tried to anticipate whatever his reaction would be to how awkward you were inevitably about to be. you try to keep your head down, like you couldn’t care less about when he’s coming, paying attention to your phone. this, of course, just means that his voice, all the way from across the lawn, scares the shit out of you.

“i can’t believe you tried to ghost me,” he says loudly, voice traveling, catching the attention of a few too many people, completely negating the quietness of the spot you’ve chosen, arm outstretched, pointer finger perfectly in your direction as he closes the distance between the two of you. “after i watched your plants, bought you lunch, got you a cactus?”

shit shit shit shit shit shit. if it were anyone else, there would be a moment of fear, of terror, like you’ve certainly fucked something up, but with atsumu that wasn’t the case. his tone is light, perfectly airy, really, harboring a teasing nature that means the difference between fake annoyance and real. and there’s laughter bubbling up from your stomach, taking over the pit that has been sitting there since you first got his text message.

you really try not to let him win, to let him back into your good graces as easily as you’re about to. though, you’re actually not sure he’s done anything wrong in the first place, not when you’re the one that basically turned him down, not vice versa. he’s still here, still trying to be your friend, still making an effort.

“i know where you live,” he shouts.

just like before, you feel all of your resolve slipping away. your lips upturn, smile wide as you let the laughter come in waves, clutching at your stomach when the feeling doesn’t stop for some reason. he takes a seat beside you, “come on, yn, people are staring. it wasn’t that funny,” he smirks.

still throwing tiny flirts and inside jokes in your direction.

he’s looking gorgeous yet again. you only notice it, unfortunately, when he’s sitting right next to you, shoulder pressed up against yours, stealing a grape from your fruit cup. he’s to blame, really, for looking that good stealing your food.

“i’m sorry i’ve been absent the past couple of days,” you say, and you mean it too much to care about how genuine it sounds in comparison to your typical taunting.

you wait for him to keep it up, the poking fun, or at the very least ask you why you were gone, all outcomes that you really didn’t want to deal with. instead, however, he takes another piece of fruit from the plastic cup, “no sweat.” he shrugs, “just don’t do it again.”

you exhale something adjacent to a laugh, “alright, yeah, deal.”

he reaches over once more, hand open and moving towards your fruit cup. you smack his shoulder, “oh my god, get your own.” it’s effortless, the playfulness that comes out of you, and it’s making you feel like the past three days never even happened. he pauses and looks like he’s deep in thought.

“nah,” he reaches forward again. this time a smack doesn’t do it, because despite you hitting his hand, wrist, forearm, wherever you can reach, multiple times, he just keeps pushing forward. there might be a metaphor somewhere there.

you grab onto his arm, “are you kidding?” it takes more of your strength than you’re willing to admit, wrapping both arms around his bicep and trying to pull him away, but he just keeps on. “i paid 5 whole dollars for that,” you groan, voice strained by the effort of your attempts as you practically crawl on top of him. he pulls his arm back further like it’s nothing at all to counteract the weight of your entire body on his arm, laughing as he does so. you make one final attempt, springing forward.

“‘tsumu, seriously.”

and then he stops, blush spreading across his nose and cheeks. he clears his throat, doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s staring at you and you’re 100% certain that his blush is contagious. you don’t know whether to tease him or apologize or just carry on. you let your arms hang around his, knees on either side of his thigh.

eventually, you lean back into the balls of your feet, creating a bit more distance between the two of you slowly. it’s like your movement made the moment real, made it come back to life. he smiles, shakes his head. “you’re something else, you know that?”

all you can do is smile proudly, still frozen in this position and a tiny part of you, the smallest goddamn bit, wishes that there was something off about the interaction, but you can’t find a single bitter feeling anywhere.

/++/

that night, you hear it. the second that it starts, you’re worried that it’s going to send you back into whatever that was again, but the only worrying that you actually end up doing is worrying about worrying. the thumping is soft. even in your bed, you can barely hear it. most of the time it fades into the background and only once every few minutes are you reminded that it’s even happening.

still, you’re convinced that any minute now all of that is going to change, the pace is going to pick up, the noises are going to get louder, you just know it.

and then you fall asleep. during the lull between soft reminders, you drift off and in the morning you don’t really know what to feel. you just feel… normal?

you spend all morning worrying, then, that this normal is a false sense of security, that it’s going to start a weird cycle where you ditch atsumu for three days straight again, but while you’re getting ready, atsumu knocks on your door and offers to walk you to class even though his class doesn’t start until 10 and is on the other side of campus just because you mentioned that you get lonely on your 9 am walks in a passing text message during spring break.

the two of you walk to your class and atsumu tells you to meet him for lunch and you’re looking forward to it. you’re not even thinking about last night. maybe that’s because last night wasn’t too disruptive, but even still, you don’t spend the next nights waiting for something to happen. it just feels normal.

it’s much less frequent than before, still happening every few days, but not nearly as often as before you knew him. though, you traded constancy for knowing him. it didn’t matter how far between those nights were, they were different now. not completely, of course. you still drowned it out with your headphones, still went to go study instead of just sitting around and dealing with it, but it was the times that you didn’t leave that were really different.

before you used to just get annoyed at every noise that wasn’t a bedpost against your shared wall. the thumping was bad, but at least it was consistent. the squeaking, the moans, the muffled voices, now they weren’t just annoying. now you could see everything so clearly in your head. you had a face, a body, a personality to attribute to these actions.

every time these thoughts would start and your imagination wandered, you curbed it quickly. you didn’t let yourself indulge in them, only got so far as to tilt your head and listen closer one time. it felt like a breach of privacy, like you were betraying trust he didn’t even know he was instilling in you.

the sounds were easy enough to ignore, sure, but the feeling of the wall against your shoulder? that was a little harder to feign oblivion to. the thumping was sending waves through your entire body and even though you weren’t listening, you could picture it so clearly in your head, not the rhythm, but his rhythm. the abstracts of these actions were becoming so human, so atsumu.

when you close your eyes you can see him, but you don’t see him over his shoulder or like a movie, no. you see him like you’re underneath him, like you’re the one making him shake the wall. you take a deep breath, hands moving on their own as they pull your headphones off, setting them on your side table so gently, like if you were too rough, atsumu would be able to hear you.

your heart is beating so violently against your chest and there is a tiny voice in the back of your head telling you that this is probably a bad idea, but you can hear him now, muffled but still audible, the groans and deliberate small praises. you slide your palm over your neck, squeezing gently, following your body down, digging your own nails into your collarbones, skimming over your chest. if you weren’t so aware that these noises had been going on for some time already, you might have teased yourself a bit more, let you feel yourself a bit more, but his moans are getting more desperate and you can’t hold yourself back.

your hand is slow as it moves between your legs, two fingers slipping between your lips and you’re almost embarrassed at how wet you are already. whoever else is in that room is sobbing, crying out his name and it’s not your voice, but you imagine that it is, like you’re the one he’s turned into this babbling mess.

you push two fingers inside of yourself and it’s not enough, not big enough, not long enough, but it’ll do for now. you move your fingers in time with the thumping against the wall, getting faster when he does.

“yeah? is it good?” he says, words punctuated by a faster pace. “tell me how good it is.”

“‘s so good,” you say under your breath, shoving another finger inside of yourself, other hand digging into the fat of your hip just like you’re imagining atsumu would.

“reach down and rub that fucking clit,” he groans through gritted teeth, the banging of the wall getting a bit less consistent. “fuck, that’s good.”

you move your other hand down, rubbing small circles into your clit as you finger yourself as fast as his pace is letting you. a whine is trapped in your throat, coming out in the form of a small, low hum as you roll your hips onto your fingers.

“deeper, atsumu, deeper, please,” you hear someone cry.

you know that you should probably feel jealous, and you do, but more than anything you feel yourself flood, your entire body warm as your sloppy hole quivers around your own fingers, around atsumu’s cock. you feel delusional.

“not yet. not until ya’ve earn it,” he growls, “tighten that pussy around me. milk my cock.” the moan tears out of you without warning, throaty and taken, barely audible, mouth agape as you tighten around your own fingers. it’s not just what he’s saying, it’s how he sounds while he’s saying it, that fucking accent - thicker and stronger than any other time you’ve heard it. you’re shaking, your own mind deceiving you, telling you that one day you’ll coax it out of him, take him so well that you can barely fucking understand him.

you’re so close, so fucking close, but you don’t want to finish until he has, want to hear him as he comes, pay close attention to what he sounds like so you can play it on repeat everytime you fuck yourself

“good girl,” he says, and it’s like it was made for you.

you’re whispering thank yous under your breath. you’re convinced he can hear them, that he knows how grateful you are for them. “gonna come,” you warn him.

“‘m almost there, fuck,” he grunts and the wall shakes harder, harsher. “fuck.” his voice is throaty. his breathing is labored, heavy. and then the walls stop shaking. a single strangled moan rips from atsumu, a string of mumbles and obscenities that you can’t really make out follow and you come all over your fingers, fucking yourself through your orgasm as your walls flutter around your all-too-small fingers.

you pull your hands from between your legs, resting them at your side, chest rising and falling so heavily that you’re surprised you’re still conscious. fuck, you were going to need a minute to recover.

she obviously is not given that luxury. you hear some murmurs and mumbles, hear the bed groan, keys jingle, and a door open and then immediately shut. if you wanted to, you could go over there right now and see exactly what he looks like after something like that, but you can’t really move, couldn’t get up from your bed let alone put proper clothes on and walk over there despite how tempting that sounds.

after everything clears, you’re waiting for the regret to sink in, for the guilt to take its place, but it doesn’t. sure, it feels a bit taboo, but if you really regretted it, you wouldn’t have kept doing it. you wouldn’t have kept listening, kept masturbating to it, wouldn’t have stayed up waiting for it to happen.

and you’re not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing, how easy it was for you to face him during the day, to ask him how his nights were and to flirt with him in the same way that you used to. your relationship stays the same, good, great even. you continue to hang out just as much as you used to despite the fact that you knew things about him and his sex like that maybe you shouldn’t have known.

you learned things, patterns, kinks, all because atsumu was perfectly inconsiderate, maybe cluelessly oblivious.

it wasn’t just the one time that she left minutes after everything was said and done, it was every time. in fact, if you really wanted to, you could, without even listening for the click of the door, go over there without catching her just on the basis of how consistent it was.

you knew that he loved to hear his own name during sex, moaned and panted and screamed and whined. he asked for it frequently, for them to call out his name, always seemed to be motivated by it.

you knew that he loved to be deep throated, but that no one could really take him as deep as he wanted to go. you wouldn’t admit to anyone the lengths you’ve gone to attempt it, even bought a new dildo just to open up your throat and to reach deeper and stretch you wider than your fingers could now. it felt so good, reached so deep. you could picture it as atsumu’s, use it whenever he boasted about how deep he was inside of you, how big his cock was, how well you took him.

you knew that his head is sensitive, could tell exactly when someone was paying extra attention to it based on his whimpers alone. you knew that there was one time that he got fingered and you have never heard him react so much to one thing. you knew that he loved to come deep inside, would ask if he could between sweet kisses, and when he got a positive response, he was gone in seconds.

you knew that he loved dirty talk, though most of his partners usually left that up to him. the stunned silence that dirty talking right back could result in is something that didn’t happen enough, not when he was so fucking good. he deserved it all and thensome. he deserved everything that he wanted all at once, wrapped up in a neat little bow.

and it just kept happening, this weird cycle of finding out more and more about atsumu’s sex life intercut with the two of you casually hanging out finding out more and more about atsumu’s life life.

but sometimes the stars would align, sometimes they had a hand in each other in ways that you could have never even dreamed of.

/++/

“do you have lunch plans, because you do now,” atsumu says in one quick string, jogging to catch up with you when he spots you on campus on his walk back to the dorm.

“i actually already do have lunch plans,” you say, “but if i didn’t-.”

he cuts you off, face twisting into evident confusion, “just cancel them and come hang out with me instead.”

“no can do,” you say, shaking your head for emphasis, “i’ve bailed on them like three times already i think….” you pause, counting on your fingers, “for you. every time.”

“great, so one more isn’t that big of a deal,” he says, still walking along with you as you walk towards your rendezvous spot.

you laugh, “you know i think your persistence is cute, but it’s just not going to work this time.”

“but i don’t have lunch plans,” he complains.

“you could come have lunch with us,” you offer. you’re not sure if he’s going to go crazy for the idea, but at least it might be better than eating alone.

“yea, right,” atsumu furrows his eyebrows, “i don’t think so. your friends don’t like me very much.”

“you’ve never even hung out with them,” you reason.

“i met your one friend that one time and i don’t think he likes me,” atsumu replies and despite the fact that you’re still walking towards lunch with your friends and despite the fact that he knows that, he’s still following alongside you.

“i don’t think you liked him very much,” you retort.

atsumu’s silence seems like a pretty strong tell, but then he speaks up, “yn, he called me the volleyball guy.”

“that’s a compliment, probably.”

“ha ha,” atsumu fakes.

“come on,” you say, taking his hand in yours and dragging him along, “let’s go have lunch with my friends, tsumu.”

he narrows his eyes at you, mouth about to open to protest, but he just can’t. “i never should have told you how i feel about that nickname.”

“well, then i’d never use it,” you point out.

he’s quiet for a beat. “yea, no, that’s much worse.”

/++/

when you approach the picnic table, atsumu’s hand in yours, oikawa is the first person to notice you, shooting a questioning look your way without notifying the rest of the guys who are arguing over god knows what. be cool, you mouth. the smile on oikawa’s face doesn’t exactly read cool, it reads more mischievous.

you absolutely made a mistake.

“yn-chan!” oikawa gets up, yanking iwaizumi up with him and moving around to the other side of the table with matsukawa.

“what- what are you doing?” iwa asks, very evidently confused as to why oikawa is disrupting him in the middle of a heated argument. “yn can sit by issei, why are-.”

he’s not.

“no! it’s okay! maki’s saved you a seat,” oikawa explains, waving both you and iwa off.

the argument ceases, attention turns to you as a broad topic, but the focus is absolutely on the interlocked fingers between you and atsumu. now you have to make the choice to drop his hand or be confident about it and you’re not sure you can do either one. and, on top of that, worry about the fact that you’ve really just brought atsumu into the foxes den without even thinking.

though, atsumu never does leave you hanging. and, like always, he usually does surprise you.

atsumu tightens his grip on your hand, holding tight as he picks his arm up and throws it around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. you know that he’s soaking in the expressions that it’s elicited. slight tinge of anger on one, confusion on another, surprise on another. you just wish that you could somehow warn him about oikawa’s look of confounded vex.

“atsumu’s going to be joining us for lunch if that’s cool,” you say, not waiting for a response as you sit down next to hanamaki. you assume it’s going to be weird, moving in time with atsumu draped on your shoulder, but he follows your lead. when you’re both sitting on the bench, he withdraws his arm, placing both forearms on the table after offering a small wave.

oikawa, you knew, could infer without even knowing his name, maki’s already met him, but you’re not sure that issei and hajime are completely understanding the extent of what’s happening, why oikawa is on offense right now.

“so, how do you know yn?” oikawa asks, an iced coffee straw between his teeth.

“well, we met because we live next to each other, but now we’re best friends,” atsumu explains and you don’t have to look at maki to know he wants to hit him right now.

but this question wasn’t to provoke maki; it was to silently explain to the other people at the table what exactly was happening. iwa and issei instantly look gobsmacked. you don’t even know if they try to stop it, but if they do, they’re doing a terrible job.

“ah! that’s right!” oikawa chirps, “that neighbor we’ve heard all about.”

everyone is quiet for a second, waiting to see how atsumu will respond, but he doesn’t give oikawa nearly enough of a reaction. “well, i’m oikawa, this is iwa-chan, matsukawa, and you already know maki. of course, you know maki. anyone who knows yn knows maki.”

“yeah, we’ve met,” maki responds, smiling at oikawa’s description of him, “how’s volleyball?”

you shoot oikawa a warning glare as iwaizumi and issei start a conversation with atsumu about volleyball. watch it, you mouth. oikawa just looks confused, but you catch the slight smile that he throws in maki’s direction.

the conversations are split now. atsumu is talking to iwa and issei, conversation shifting from volleyball to iwaizumi’s goals for the future in athletic training. even with all of the shenanigans that oikawa’s already executed, atsumu is deep in thoughtful conversation with half of your friend group and if it isn’t making your heart swell up for some reason.

you lower your voice for only the otherside of the table to hear, “if you don’t knock it off…”

“then what, yn?” oikawa smirks.

“i’m going to bring hajime into this,” you narrow your eyes. it’s always a gamble bringing up hajime with oikawa. sometimes it works like a charm, a perfect pacifier to a fired up oikawa, but sometimes it backfires, just driving oikawa in the exact opposite direction of where you’re trying to get him to go. maybe you shouldn’t have bet on hajime today.

“no one likes a tattletail,” oikawa whispers, “you’ll see.”

the anticipation is back, something that you really didn’t want to return for a while. you’ve had enough of it this semester if you’re being honest. atsumu stays, thankfully, paying attention to his half of the table, laughing along with the two men about whatever they’re talking about while you face maki.

he’s not necessarily talking to you about anything in particular, just about his day and updating you on the situation with one of his old coworkers, telling jokes and just being maki. when he mentions something stupid, something unreasonably funny, it takes you by surprise, letting your head fall and clash against maki’s shoulder, holding the other one in your hand as laughter bellows from the two of you as if you were alone.

all at once, you’re taken out of the moment as you feel a hand rest on your thigh, long fingers spanning over the fabric of your skirt, curling around the hem. you slowly bring your head up, arm still resting on maki’s other shoulder and maybe this was oikawa’s plan all along, to get you to sit between maki and atsumu and feel it as much as you’re feeling it right now.

if only that were the case.

oikawa butts in on atsumu, matsukawa, and iwaizumi’s conversation, completely disregarding whatever they’re talking about. “hajime and i are together,” oikawa says, throwing his arm around iwaizumi’s shoulder, pulling him closer in a very familiar way.

“oh, that’s great,” atsumu says, evidently confused at the relevance and the disruption.

iwaizumi grabs oikawa’s wrist, throwing it off of him, “you’re being weird, kawa. you don’t even put your arm around me, i put my arm around you if anything-”

oikawa ignores him completely, “you know, that reminds me of something!” he points repetitively at atsumu as if he’s remembering something for the first time that he has to blurt out or he’ll never remember it again. he leans forward like he’s telling a secret.

no.

“y’know, maki and yn used to date,” oikawa says in a tone that you would use to tell someone a fun fact. atsumu stills, hand withdrawing from your lap as he turns to face the two of you. your hand is lingering on maki’s shoulder and you don’t want to move it because then it seems suspicious.

you turn to face atsumu, letting your hand drop from maki’s shoulder. you can’t read the expression on atsumu’s face again. you’re not a fan of that feeling.

“really?” is all atsumu asks, nothing more.

you clear your throat, “yeah, during freshman and sophomore year when all of us became friends in the first place.”

“hm,” he hums, and everyone is just waiting for something more, a bigger reaction, a scoff, a confrontation.

but atsumu never does leave you hanging. and, like always, he usually does surprise you.

atsumu snakes his arm around your waist, protective grasp punctuated by his fingertips digging into your side, the pads of his fingertips brushing against your skin as he pushes them under your loose shirt. he pulls you closer to him, slides you across the bench, away from maki, your side now pressed up against his. “yeah, but you’re just friends now, so,” atsumu shrugs and continues on with his conversation that oikawa interrupted previously.

maki and oikawa look more shocked than atsumu did. there’s a slight trace of annoyance on oikawa’s features, but maki’s is just complete shock, not animosity, just shock.

the rest of lunch goes by without another oikawa fueled hitch.

/++/

today could’ve gone a lot differently.

if oikawa wasn’t oikawa and atsumu wasn’t atsumu then it would’ve gone very differently, you’re sure. one very important difference being that you wouldn’t be here, in bed, about to fall asleep only to be woken up to that familiar sound. or, at the very least, if things would’ve gone much differently you would’ve felt too bad, too awkward, too guilty to pull the dildo from your bedside table even though you really had no intention of fucking yourself tonight.

you liked these nights the most, the ones where you were able to take it all in, tease yourself just like you’re sure he was teasing her. you could listen and be patient and follow along so nicely, but you don’t get that same luxury tonight. it’s all very quick, very fast paced and atsumu is being uncharacteristically quiet.

when he slips inside of her, you can hear the snag in his breath, and you mimic it, pushing the dildo inside of you. then you feel the vibrations. you really feel the vibrations, harder than you’ve ever felt that. it doesn’t feel like just your wall is shaking, it feels like your whole room is shaking, it’s harsh.

“fuck, is that good?” atsumu asks, the first thing he’s said all night and you can’t believe how much you missed his voice. mmhm, you whine. you can’t make the dildo fuck you as fast and as hard as you know atsumu is going right now. your arm won’t move that fast, not while feeling the stroke of his entire cock. it’s not as good as he is and you know it.

“tell me,” atsumu huffs, and usually it’s muffled, but you feel like you can hear it clear as day, right in your ear, “tell me i’m the best you’ve ever had.” your hand stops, motions cease. did you hear him correctly? it sounded so clear, you can’t be mistaken. maybe you’re making things up or putting meaning to things that aren’t really like that. you shake it off, hand moving again trying to match his speed.

he’s already out of breath, panting, and you’re realizing that the reason you haven’t been able to really hear her is because she hasn’t stopped making noise this whole time, a low, monotonous crying that hasn’t changed a bit.

“tell me,” he says, voice just as harsh as his movements.

“fuck, atsumu, you’re the best i’ve ever had.” you can’t imagine it’s not the truth. the same sentence falls out of your mouth.

“yeah? i’m better than him?” he asks, groans getting more possessive, pleas getting more desperate. he can’t even wait for her to respond, needs to hear it now. “tell me, fuck, tell me i’m better than him.” you can’t breathe. it’s not a coincidence. it can’t be. you’ve listened to atsumu have sex enough times to know that this isn’t just some kink thing that he likes. this is pointed. this is fueled. and you know exactly by what.

she listens quickly, which is fair considering that this is probably the best she’s ever felt, despite not really understanding what he’s asking her to say, “you’re so much better than him. fuck, you’re so good, atsumu.”

“yea? ‘m bigger than him, make you feel so much better than him,” atsumu groans, no longer asking, room shaking as he chases his high, “fuck need to fill you, please, fuck.”

“yes, fuck, fill me.”

“gonna fill you so full, make you feel so much fuller than he can, every drop just for you,” he whines. shit, you wanted to hear those whines in your dreams.

“every drop for me,” you whimper, pumping the cock in and out of you, clenching around the thickness, so fucking close despite the few times you couldn’t help but stop.

“just for you, -” he grunts, pretty little scream hitting him and you’re sure that tonight wasn’t just incredible for whoever he was inside of right now. it’s not the scream that sends you over the edge, but the beginning sounds of your name that fall from his tongue but are quickly cut short.

you push the dildo out of the way, body and mind exhausted by whatever just fucking happened. you count the seconds until this person is gone from atsumu’s room. the lock clicks, door opens, then slowly shuts. in the quiet of the aftermath, you hear a heavy sigh and a loud, “fuck!” followed by another softer sigh.

maybe you had more of an effect on him than you thought.

taglist: @natriae @simpfully-heartbroken @mobbbb1 @cloud-lyy @mimivinx @kjd55 @url0call1fter @kryzi @slut-for-dabi @katsunarii @unstaaableaf @misfit-megumi @solovolpe @cheezitwh0re @5sausefandom

@phantomremi @ellie111593 @pizzasdeliveries @pebble-did-what @raionmikage @niverine (might have blog finding off because i'm unable to tag!)

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

#atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #atsumu x reader smut #atsumu x female reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader smut #atsumu x yn #hq fluff #hq fanfic #haikyuu fanfic #eventual smut #toriwritesshit #twrt!

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vampwritesstuff · 1 year ago

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TMNT Brothers when Reader is on her Period

I’m totally not writing this because I’m on mine rn 💀 Also, I’ve got a few requests and I swear I will work on them! I jst have a motivation issue and it sucks, but if you would like to see more of my work you can checkout my Multi-Fandom Masterlist ! (I swear I’ll attempt to make a masterlist for each fandom separately, but we’ll see if I can actually do it lol)

Type: Headcannons

Request?: not a request

TMNT Version: Unspecified, fits for most versions

CW: obviously, mentions of blood and talk of female bodily functions, reader is AFAB

LEO

Man, this guy is oblivious as hell, he doesn’t realize you’re on your period until he sees you in the lair with a heating pad on your abdomen.

Then he feels stupid because it was so obvious you had started.

He thinks he should’ve known as soon as you started becoming more emotional.

Will 100% get you any craving you want, within reason. He’s not gonna let you eat something that’s gonna upset your stomach later.

Is down to just cuddle and watch TV together.

Doesn’t care how much his brothers tease him, he’ll be constantly worried about you.

“Do you guys think she’s alright without me there?” *insert a collective “SHUT UP LEO”*

He knows that your cramps can get crazy bad, but you guys figured out that if he laid his head on your abdomen, the pain was somewhat relieved.

Low key gets sad when you get annoyed with him, he knows you don’t mean to and it’s just the hormones, but he still manages to feel like a kicked puppy when it happens.

RAPH

Doesn’t act like he notices, but he does.

He notices hardcore.

He notices the way you’re walking to the kitchen so sluggishly, with a hand on your abdomen and your face scrunched into a look of discomfort at every movement.

He notices the weird period cravings and actually makes an effort to memorize the ones you like so that he can get more for you.

You get a lot more moody on your period so you’re constantly sassing Raph and he has to remind himself that it’s just your hormones talking.

Secretly restocks your dwindling stash of chocolate.

You don’t notice it though until you catch him in the act.

Acts like doesn’t know what you are talking about and claims he’s only replacing some because he ate a few bars.

You definitely know that’s not the case, but you don’t say anything about it.

He’ll hand you a bottle of ibuprofen/advil/midol etc. when he notices the cramps get debilitating. (Literally me)

Acts annoyed when you ask him to carry you around cause you can’t move from your cramps.

He secretly loves it though cause he can hold you and show off his strength.

MIKEY

Innocent boy doesn’t even know what a period is, was hella embarrassed when you explained it to him.

“YOUR BODY DOES WHAT?” someone help this poor boy.

He’s stunned at learning that your period can last up to a week or even longer.

“How do you bleed for that long and not die and it happens every month?!” Has gained hella respect for you.

He probably tried one of those period cramp simulators and it was horrible, Raph made fun of him for a while before you forced Raph and the other brothers to try it too.

They shut their mouths after that, and now Mikey gets to mock Raph’s squeals.

Willingly tries your period cravings, no matter how weird, and he’s ended up liking most of them.

You don’t even have to ask him to cuddle with you, he just does it because he feels so bad that you have to deal with this every month.

Mikey is very empathetic and in tune with your emotional state during your period, cause he’s an emotional boy too.

DONNIE

Only figured out that you were on your period when he made a joke about it.

“Ignore her, it’s probably just her time of the month.” “Actually, it is.” “HUH?”

Bro was so embarrassed and his brothers wouldn’t let him live it down.

He willingly, without you asking, will go buy you feminine products as a sort of apology. (Does that even count as one? He doesn’t know but at least he’s trying?)

Does research on what happens to the female body during menstruation in hopes of providing you some support.

Doesn’t touch his computer for weeks afterwards.

He’s easily flustered, he can’t help it!

Understands that you know your body better than he does, so he doesn’t really try to intervene with what you normally do during this time of month.

Gives you as much space as you want, but is ready to cuddle and watch pirated movies on his laptop as soon as you ask to.

Gets really happy when he sees you using the microwaveable lavender scented rice stuffed animal he got for you (if ykyk)

#tmnt x reader #tmnt x y/n #tmnt x you #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt headcanons #tmnt bayverse

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dokidokitsuna · 4 months ago

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Magical Girl #1

So I realize I haven’t been posting a lot here lately…there are several reasons.

Most of it was just a garden-variety depressive episode, which was unfortunately extended after I had to go on antibiotics for a couple weeks. It got to a point where I considered canceling a bunch of projects because I just didn’t like to draw anymore. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (Still recovering from that, tbh…)

After a while I decided to focus on my writing instead, at least to take my mind off that frightening thought. ^^; I got pretty far into a new novel (which I’ll probably talk about later) but more importantly, I managed to complete a 19-page script for ^this concept, the first new original comic idea I’ve had in years.

It’s basically my take on the idea of a solitary magical girl, which you don’t see so much of nowadays…I think the most famous is Cardcaptor Sakura, and even she had some magical sidekicks (iirc, they just had different sources of power, something like that). I’m not familiar with any examples in the genre where it’s literally just her, ala typical Western superhero…

But that’s not really the reason I wanted to write this story– I developed it mainly to explore the idea of a solitary protagonist, someone who doesn’t have any conventional social relationships outside of their family, AND doesn’t use the story to form any. How could I develop an entertaining story around such a person; what sort of character arc would they go through? Might this character realize, to some degree, that they’re not a ‘traditional’ protagonist, and have some thoughts about this…?

For a while I toyed with the idea of applying this framework to an existing idea, but then I figured it’d be easier (and shorter) to write a completely new self-contained story. Which led to the creation of Anno the magical girl, and her partner Armitage. ^^

My #1 rule was ‘no crutches’: No making her (2) family members stick to her like glue and take the place of the usual friendgroup, for instance. This rule also forced me to change the usual characterization of the helpful fairy sidekick to that of an abusive parasite…which ended up being one of the best writing decisions I ever made. ^^ I love Armitage; not only are he and Anno a great comedy duo, but I think his meanness makes Anno a stronger character.

His worst ‘friendless loser’ insults towards her are just simple statements based (oddly enough) on things I’ve heard people express about themselves. So his dialogue becomes almost cathartic, and Anno’s reactions to it become more realistic as a result. She can’t just brush off his comments as meaningless hate; she kinda has to internalize them whether she wants to or not…if she were just a little more sensitive, this story would probably have a very unhappy ending. ^^;;; But as it is, it’s just an introspective comedy about a neurodivergent girl learning to love and trust herself.

I’m not 100% sure what I’m going to do with the script now that it’s done…mostly I’ve just been using it as motivation to draw for fun again, and to continue developing a manga style (I think I’m getting close to something solid). But will I actually attempt to draw the manga? Will I try that thing I always wanted to try where I commission some artists to draw it with me…? Or will I just hang onto it and start writing a sequel in my spare time, like I usually do? ^^; Only time will tell…

#magical girl no. 1

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kindlingkeen · 8 months ago

Note

do you have any good fic recs? i've just finished reading all of your fics (AMAZING btw i LOVE competent jason and you write him sooo well) and obviously you have good taste so i thought i might as well ask (i will say that i don't really do ship fics tho)

thank you! looking forward to what you have in store for jason and the batfam next!

First, thank you for the ask! And I’m so glad you’ve been enjoying my fics!! 😊 I’m on vacation this week and finally writing again (had a bit of a rough writer’s block patch). So hopefully I’ll be posting more content in the next couple of weeks.

Fic recs - boy do I ever. I will say, I have super varied tastes in fics, I’ll read just about anything Gen that’s Jason-centric, plus a few Jason ships (although I’m pretty picky about what actually makes it into my bookmarks). All of the fics I’m rec’ing below are Gen, although some might have flavors of a relationship (likely JayRoy since that’s my preferred pairing). I tried to pick a selection of different styles and tropes, so hopefully you find something you like. Almost all these authors have multiple fics I’ve loved, so look at their other works on ao3 for more great reading (you may need to be logged into ao3 to see some of them). Enjoy!

Fic recs

Glow in the Dark Stars by essspressso (stylesmakethefight)

This is a time travel fic that made me bawl ugly tears, like seriously bawl. Read if in need of a good cry.

The Cold Like Coming Home by cabezas_de_vaca

An interesting one-shot of Jason and Bruce finding their way back to each other.

More Chances Than Deserved 'Verse by Skalidra @skalidra

A series that starts out post batarang, Jason does not rejoin the family.

Gotham CPS by ebjameston

Not sure how to even describe this one, it’s pure hilarity told by an outsider POV.

Nests and Cages by LanternWisp, Lysical @lanternwisp

A series detailing Jason’s journey back to the family. The last installment of the series has probably the best reconciliation discussion between Jason and Bruce re: Bruce taking on another Robin that I’ve ever read.

Buy One Get One Free by Here_we_go

A series that starts with catatonic Jason. I love how Jason is written in this one so so much (especially the main first part), and there’s a short segment later in the series with Talia that’s lovely.

fever by r_astra @heyy-its-skip

One-shot. Quality batdad in the context of a sick fic

nightmares and daydreams by r_astra @heyy-its-skip

One-shot. Beware, there’s some heavy duty torture in this one. Jason & Tim isn’t usually my thing, but I really like their brief interaction in this one.

all the small weights by sparkycap

One-shot. More quality batdad, this time in the context of fear toxin

a (cat)astrophe in the making by mikkal

Part of a loosely connected series, if I’m remembering correctly. I’m a firm believer that Jason Todd needs a cat.

Red Hood by envysparkler @envysparkler

An amazing Jason rejoins the family, classic fix it, set early in Lost Days continuity. Envysparkler’s works are pretty much solely responsible for getting me into the Batfam. This fic in particular motivated me to start writing TPWC.

Overcoming Our Antecedents by Batbirdies @batbirdies

De-aging fic, this isn’t my favorite trope, but of what’s out there, I like the dynamics in this one.

Things We Only Talk About After Dark by BabblingBookends

One-shot. More good batdad, but not fluffy like the other two above. I really like how Bruce is written in this one, how he struggles with the unknown.

Kidnapped! by Cerusee @cerusee

One-shot set in Jason’s Robin days. One of my favorites for father and son feels.

A MOMENT THAT'S HELD IN YOUR ARMS. by orpheusaki

More baby Robin Jay and good dad Bruce.

White Lighters / Afterglow by lurkinglurkerwholurks @lurkinglurkerwholurks

One-shot. Another one that legitimately made me cry.

Druthers by d_aia @e-alexandrescu

A really creative, not-your-typical-take on Jason rejoining the family. Sniper Jason is so frelling cool.

I linked the tumblr’s for the authors I know of. If you have any to add, leave them in the comments and I’ll update!

#keen converses #fic rec #ao3 #my fics #jason todd #batfam

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blakbonnet · 3 months ago

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AUTHOR OF THE WEEK: @adhduck

Please give it up for the nicest and one of the most creative writers in this fandom: Duck! I'm just such a fan because not only does Duck manage to write the softest, gentlest, loveliest Ed and Stede (both together and apart), their fics somehow perpetually keep me looking like 🥹 all the time ough. And they were very very nice about sharing their writing process with me:

What's your writing process like? Do you start with the beginning or the end? Do you write in order or as the scenes come to you?

Mostly it’s the Taika “look at a document for 8 hours and then close the document,” honestly. I’m a very slow writer and lose motivation very easily, so I mostly get by on the muse’s fire hydrant and forcing myself to write those fifty words even when every single one feels so bad.

I go moooostly beginning to end because even though I’m generally an outliner, I always end up with little details that will affect later scenes and I don’t wanna lose continuity or have to rewrite a bunch. However, I do definitely let myself do a [finish this scene later] and move on to the next scene because otherwise I will get really fucking stuck, and sometimes I’ll write a line or a paragraph I thought of that sounds really good and tuck it away for a later scene.

Favourite trope or headcanon you like to explore while writing?

Ooooooooh, I don’t know if this is a trope but there’s just nothing I love more than huge feelings contained in mundane stories, of feelings so big you can’t actually express them and so they’re this constant hum throughout the story. I also love writing about touch for both of them, how Ed gives casual touch to hide the deep well of desire for intimate touch, how Stede is so unused to touch and craves it so deeply. (Can you tell I just really like subtle yet overwhelming emotions? Maybe it’s the aroace in me idk but that shit hits HARD.) Oh, and I love a fuckin’ allegory or object to discuss all those big feelings, whether it’s monsters or gardening or peaches or what the fuck ever (I have used all of these lol).

Whose voice is easier to write - Ed or Stede? Why?

I think Ed’s voice comes to me faster because the way I personally speak is closer to Ed’s voice, but it also means I’m sometimes double-checking myself to make sure I’m still deep in his voice, not my-voice-but-Ed. Stede isn’t necessarily harder for me, I’m just doing all that double-checking to make sure I’m not slipping into Ed voice or, god forbid, Aziraphale-lite voice. So, idk! I love writing them both, the little details of each of their inner dialogues are SO important to me (Ed’s tangents and his pshh-I-don’t-care moments, Stede actively avoiding thinking about things he doesn’t want to face, etc etc etc).

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

For the longest time it was There is Love That Doesn’t Have a Place to Rest, mostly because it was posted the day before another fic and, while I find them to be siblings and equal quality, the other one got way more attention. That fic is about the time between signing the Act of Grace and getting to the academy and I think I really nailed where the two of them are at.

However! (And I know this is cheating okay shh.) Nowadays the one that I wish people read the most is Not Only the Sugar, But the Days. It’s the sequel to my “offscreen 30 year slowburn friends to lovers finally get together” fic and I put my whole fucking heart into it, honestly. The two boys basically go on a bunch of dates to live out the teenage experiences they never got together and work through the biggest feelings and I just! Really want people to see it! (It also can be read as a standalone, which I didn’t advertise super well lol.)

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

Unfortunately it’s probably “just” or “a little” or filler words like that. Also obviously if the word fuck counts then, yeah, that. Maybe warm? Or something about yearning??? If I have a classic word please tell me I’m fascinated by this idea.

Do you have a beta reader? Have they made you a better writer?

The person who beta’s for basically all my fics is Owen @trans-top-stede and they are sooooo fucking helpful and incredible. So good at catching all the little things I miss, making sex scenes make sense, reminding me positioning in general is a thing, cheerleading me on, etc etc etc. My fics are so much better for their help.

Why OFMD 🥹

Ed and Stede just fit so fucking well into all sorts of AU’s (they try to invent their own AU’s in canon, even) while also having so much fun space to explore within canon. Their range is also perfect perfect perfect for writing fics—they can be in the wells of misery and fluffy as fuck and obnoxiously cheesy and realistic all in the same fic, if you want, and it’s completely accurate to their canon selves. It’s also helped me to embrace being silly and cheesy and earnest because life is about being yourself and finding your people and feeling deeper, feeling bigger, feeling more authentically without fear of being too much. Fuck I just really love these boys. (Also they’re so pretty and the whole crew’s so pretty we WON.)

Please head over to @ofmdlovelyletters (who also made the header) and send your love to all your favourite authors (and authors of the week 😈 watch that blog for some special letters coming your way)

#aotw #artist of the week #author of the week #adhduck #writing #ofmd #our flag means death

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thetorturedfagdepartment · 15 days ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Halloween Heartbeat Ch 2 ༉‧₊˚.

Read part 1 here!

A/N: hi guys! Part 2 :3 I hope everyone enjoyed part 1! And if you hadn’t read it yet please do!!! Also I’m probably gonna get part 3/last part out around the 1st or 2nd 😭 sorry it’s just SOOO HARD FOR ME to get motivation to write. But I hope you guys enjoy this part it’s kinda rushed SORRY BUT PLEASE ENJOY . (Also sorta proofread like I said I rushed it so if there’s any mistakes JUST IGMORE IT. PLEASE.) [update! I don’t think I’m gonna write a part 3 :((( just because Halloween is over and I feel it’s weird to make things after said holiday, but if you guys want one I will post it, it’ll probably just be a short rushed one tho… but more fics to come trust.]

Tags/warnings? Ellie x reader au , Halloweenish au, modern au, Halloween horror nights sorta, Dina + Jesse mentioned, established relationship, mainly fluff, mild smut near end, smut, makeout sesh (please tell me if I missed any :3)

“So yeah… we kissed and now we’re going out.” You say to your friends.

They just stare at you in awe. One of them speaks up.

“S—so you’re telling me. We took you somewhere you hate and you bagged a baddie like her for being a complete pussy…?!?!” One of your friends said and the others just nodded in agreement.

“Well I mean— yeah I guess that’s what happened.” You then scratch the back of your neck and your friends just chuckle and giggle.

“Woah you’ve really outdone yourself this time…”

You and your friends continue talking about Ellie for a few moments until she texts you telling you she’s outside.

“Ah! She’s here, I’ll see you guys later. She told me she was gonna give me a tour of some of the stuff. Well, wish me luck, 'cause it’s basically a date..!”

Your friends wave goodbye and you head outside. You and Ellie had been friends for about 4 weeks before you two started dating and now it had been about 2 since you guys began dating. Everything has been good so far, and you two just clicked. Ellie was so passionate about everything she liked, just like you. She didn’t judge you either, not for music taste, fashion sense, or anything. You had decided to wear a cute outfit for her. Cute bottoms and a nice top.. you even picked out this shirt because it was her favorite color.

You step into her beaten-down truck. She told you that this truck used to be her old man’s and that he and her liked to fix it up together.

“Hey beautiful,” Ellie says as she kisses your cheek, she was always such a gentlewoman. “You look good… very cute.”

“You think? I wanted to look cute for you..” you said with a tiny smile appearing. Ellie always knew how to give you butterflies.

“I know so, nowwww… let’s get a move on hm?” Ellie then starts up her old rustic truck and you guys drive to her work.

“Sooo Ellie, how does this work? You just gonna sneak me in the back?” You chuckle and she rolls her eyes.

“No baby girl, I don’t have work till 6. I just have some employee bonuses, you know since I’m the manager.” Ellie laughs and you guys pull into a parking structure special to employees.

“Wow. I’ve never been over here!”

“Well of course you haven’t dumbass.” You scoff at Ellie and you guys get out of her truck.

Ellie takes you in and you guys scan the tickets she has from working here.

“Soooo where to first?” You ask her holding her hand.

“I’ll show you some cool stuff from my Job.”

Throughout the first few hours, Ellie takes you around through back ways and helps you understand ways to get to certain rides within good time. She then stops with the whole tour and wants you guys to enjoy the day.

“Okay, so what ride do you wanna ride?” Ellie says holding your hand as you guys walk on the upper lot.

“Well, I don’t think I’ll be able to ride this ride here..” you tell her with a sly grin and, Ellie turns to look at you looking confused.

“What is it, not a ride that’s from this amusement park?” She laughs and is still oblivious to the dirty joke you told her.

“Ellie I meant— never mind…” you roll your eyes and the joke finally clicks in her head.

“Oh— oh! You meant.. ah— good one…” Her face flushes and she feels the heat in her face rise.

You then begin laughing at her and she feels like an idiot. You couldn’t help but smile at her embarrassed look.. the way she laughs and her face brightens up… it just makes you want more and more of that look. You guys begin to walk over to the Harry Potter section. Ellie told you that was her favorite..

“Jeez, it’s cold…” you mutter out, arms wrapped around yourself to keep you warm.

“Oh, you’re cold? Here..” Ellie then begins removing her zip up revealing a cute sweater. “I don’t get cold easily, I just like wearing jackets.” She then puts the jacket on your shoulders and you slide into it.

“Thanks, elles… you’re so sweet…” you then lean over and kiss her cheek, having her face brighten up.

“Ah, it’s nothing— just taking care of my girl…!”

Her girl? She’s such a dork… You guys walk over to one of the street sells men and get 2 butterbeers.

“Mmm, I love these! They were always my favorite as a kid…” You smile at Ellie and she chuckles.

“Yeah, you told me you used to come here often as a kid right? Well, I’m glad I can bring back the nostalgia for a good price! Gotta love employee perks huh?” She shoves you a little with her body and you roll your eyes.

Ellie and you go on with your date until it’s time for her to get ready. She takes you to the place in the back where she usually gets ready for horror nights.

“Sooooo, what look are you gonna do tonight?” You ask sitting on a chair near her.

“Uhh, probably just the normal one why?”

“I don’t know I wanted to see if you were gonna mix it up..” Ellie then turns to look at you and chuckles.

“Well we don’t usually mix it up, plus I’m not good at makeup so I usually just keep it plain Jane.”

You nod and watch Ellie get into her ‘costume’ which was really just pants, a tank top, messy hair, (which she didn’t need to do anyways…) blood, and fake cuts. While she was doing the makeup you just sat there on your phone. You don’t even realize that Ellie is picking out props and stuff. Once you look up you realize how.. how hot she looks like this?! I mean yeah you’ve seen her in ‘costume’ like 2 times, but never when she was your girlfriend. And damn were you glad this woman was.

“Uhh hey, you gotta a little drool there.” Ellie jokes as she realizes you’ve been staring at her maybe a bit too long.

“Oh uh heh— yeah…”

“Hey so I forgot to ask, what are you doing for Halloween?” Ellie asks as she continues looking through the props. The question almost goes completely over your head due to how you were eyeing her.

“Uhh I don’t know, usually ever since I started college I’d just go to my parents and pass candy with them.”

“…really..? God you’re a loser.” She laughs and shakes her head as she grabs a fake axe from her prop box. “Hmm yeah it feels like an axe night tonight—“

“I am not a loser! But why did you wanna know if I was free?” You then stand up and flick her forehead.

“Ow! Hey! Uh— I wanted to know cuz my friends are having a party that night.” Ellie rubs where you flicked and shoves you.

You end up shoving her back and she shoves you onto a couch in the corner of the room.

“Uh—“ you freeze looking at her. “Y—you said a party…” you try and distract her from the odd position you two are in.

“Y—yeah.. Dina and Jesse are gonna host it..” Ellie swallows and clears her throat.

“Y—yeah I’ll go… Well, what are you gonna wear?”

“Not sure… probably gonna be a werewolf.” She then adjusts herself on top of you.

Ellie was straddling your lap and you were sitting back on the couch, in the makeup room. You and Ellie haven’t been this close yet… it was new. You didn’t want her to get up though… she looked so pretty on you. Like a goddess that was made just for you.. how did you get this lucky?

“Maybe you should just go like this..” your hands travel up her sides, sending shivers down her body and the blood to her cheeks.

“You mean in my work attire? Yeah no thanks.”

“Aww, but you look so sexy…”

“Sexy?!? Do you have like weird attractions I should be worried about?” Ellie tries to hide her blush through a laugh.

“Oh haha. I’m sorry you just look good… your shift doesn’t start for another 20 minutes.. how about we have some fun?” You then lean closer to her lips and she leans down a little bit.

“Guess we do have time to kill..” Ellie replies as she leans down to your face kissing you passionately.

You groan into the kiss, your tongues dancing together. Ellie’s hips begin grinding into yours. Her hands grip your waist and travel under your shirt and they stop at your bra.

“Is this okay..?” She asks before her hands go under.

You nod as a reply, and she instantly moves her hands under groping your boobs and toying with your nipples. Pulling and pinching them between her thumb and index fingers.

“Fuck.” You moan out as you nibble her neck. Not caring if you leave hickeys for everyone to see.

A few more moments of this goes on until Ellie’s phone rings.

“Shit hold on babe.” She then removes her hands and picks up her phone as you pull your lips away from her, resting your hands on her hips. “Yeah? … ugh okay … be out in a sec, okay bye. It’s Jesse.”

“Let me guess gotta go?”

“Yeah, but hey. You can wait in here for me? Just don’t play without me.” She winks and you feel your face heat up.

“Whatever idiot.” You say with a laugh.

Ellie pulls herself off of you and she kisses your forehead. As she leaves the room your mind begins to wander. God you felt as if you were already falling in love with her. And damn were you looking forward to that Halloween party now.

#ellie williams fluff #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #tlou #ellie the last of us

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mellybouboulove · 5 months ago

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My guardian angel🤍𓆩♡𓆪☁️

Chapter 3

Plot summary: Drug Dealer Ellie Williams X OFC slowburn fic, out of universe and takes place in college, set in the 2000s. Smut content to come.

previous: Chapter 2, next: Chapter 4,

Tags: #wlw #sapphic #drugdealer!ellie #modern!ellie #tlou #slowburn #smut #fluff #tlouau #au #modernau #drugs

Chapter 3

The morning after, I woke up on the couch covered with a blanket. The light was shining through the blinds and the birds were singing, that was my first night of real sleep since a week. Lana who was sleeping on my lap started meowing to make me feed her. I finally got the energy to open my eyes and stand up to give food to my cat. Suddenly I looked around realizing she wasn't here anymore.

A wave of emptiness submerged me. My house is still a mess because I was still too lazy to do anything about it. I took a shower, my head full of questions : Why did she leave without telling anything? Did she even care at all? Am I just another stupid drug addict to her? I guess I'll never know. Anyway, it's not my problem anymore. I have more important things to think about like where to find my opiates. Right now I'm feeling better but I know I couldn't handle another day sober.

I put on another pyjama after getting out of the shower when I heard the door opening. I quickly left the bathroom and ran to the leaving room full of joy. Here she was ; she had 2 bags of groceries in her hands and a big backpack; could this be what I was thinking about ? No, she’s too busy to do this. She probably came to say goodbye.

-Ok so, I saw that the fridge was empty, I bought you eggs, pastas… She started to enumerate what she bought for me and explained that she wanted to stay with me for the weekend. I was right, she was about to stay here for a while. -Thank you so much I don't know what to say Ellie that’s so kind of you, how much do I own you? And why do you want to stay here? I’m not at my best you know.. -Nothing, she said, it’s my pleasure if I can help you. I’m gonna stay here for the week-end and yeah I saw that you’re not at your best. I don’t want to be a passive watcher of your fall, that's also why I want to stay with you.

I was so happy to hear this, I don't know if she would be able to do anything to help me heal but her attention was already enough to make me feel better. She installed her clothes then we talked about my situation while eating. I explained to her how I was feeling about what happened.

-I'm gonna give you some meds. If I see that you’re about to vomit or you’re shaking or about to faint I’ll give you something. If you’re feeling bad and start thinking too much about it just talk to me. I listened carefully to her instructions and she continued. -Do you think you'd be able to clean your place with me?

All alone I could never clean all that, I couldn’t even find the motivation to eat but now she’s here I dont know why but it seems effortless. She got up, turned on MTV and dragged me by the arm to the kitchen. I did the dishes as she was throwing out my spoiled groceries that were still in my fridge and placed the new ones she just bought. Then we picked up all the clothes that were around my house then she did a machine while vacuuming and cleaning the dust everywhere. We changed my bedsheets, cleaned the bathroom and even gave a bath to Lana.

Later, we both felt hungry so we decided to bake pancakes. It was really fun, though we first argued on the measurements of the sugar, she gave up and let me add an extra amount of sugar to make them sweet enough. She was eating the leftovers of dough stuck in the spoons and bowls and as she wanted to give me a taste, she unintentionally put some dough on my face which led to a little -very cliché romcom like- fight of trying to put dough on the other’s face. We were running around the kitchen aisle when she finally caught me and we started to calm down. She wiped the dough I had on my cheeks and forehead with her thumb then we went back to baking. The dough was ready, it was time to bake them on the pan. She was making them flip in the air like a pro which I strangely found very attractive of her. She tried teaching me but I made the pancake fall and the dough that was not cooked yet spilled everywhere. She decided to not let me have control of the pan again for the rest of the recipe and I, instead, took charge of setting the table and doing the dishes we just dirtied.

We enjoyed our pancakes in front of SpongeBob Squarepants.

-You were right, the more the sugar, the better. She said. -Told ya.. -Are you feeling tired or do you wanna go out now ? -No I’m feeling good, what do you have in mind? In reality my head was hurting but I needed to stay occupied. -I was thinking we could go to the fair maybe? -Ohh yes sounds good for me, let me get ready first.

I took another shower after sweating like a pig with all this cleaning, I got dressed in a skirt, a tight top and my platform boots, put some makeup on then did my hair. In the meantime, Ellie took a shower and got ready too. We got into her car on the way to the fair. The smell of the popcorn, cotton candy and churros filled my nostrils, the sky was dark, the stars and lights from the attractions were lighting us. We decided to go for a ride on the big wheel, we sat next to each other, her arm behind my neck, as we enjoyed the beautiful view from the top. I spotted a thrilling roller coaster. I begged Ellie to go for a ride with me until I had to drag her by her hand. We had a lot of fun, I felt like a kid.

Then, she decided to play a shooting game that could earn us a big teddy bear. After 3 shots, she finally managed to get the target; we were handed a big green dinosaur plushie. I felt so excited, it kinda looked like a date. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, violently turning me around; I was a little shaken up and turned with furrowed eyebrows to see the person who was assaulting me when I ended up face to face with Emily. My heartbeat immediately increased, my throat felt as tight as a bow.

-How dare you step foot at any party, how dare you pretend like nothing happened ? You’re such a pathetic selfish bitch. Do you ever even think about what you did and how much it impacted me ? Going on cute little dates with your stupid girlfriend while Jonathan is dying at the hospital ?? How can you even handle looking at yourself in the mirror?

I was left speechless, tears started to fill my eyes, my hands were shaky. She was right; I’m so selfish. I’m thinking about this day on repeat all day long but I didn’t even really try to check up on them. After my treatment started to make me feel crazy, I couldn’t focus on anything else than drugs. I guess it was easier than facing my responsibilities and the horrible consequences my actions had on my friends’ lives. I was just looking for something to focus on other than this. Emily has lost her scholarship after not being able to stay in the soccer team due to her injuries. Jonathan was still in a coma, his parents are visiting and praying for him everyday. I’ve been the luckiest out of us three yet I can only think about MY problems, MY addiction, MY guilt.

After what felt like forever of just standing there, Ellie took me apart in a more quiet area. She handed me a glass of water to try to calm me down. She pulled me into a hug and I let myself cry into her arms. We agreed it was time to go back home. Yet again we were driving to my house, making ourselves comfy on the couch while she reassured and took care of me. The day after we spent a while talking about everything and I understood focusing on drugs was selfish, I need to take action and try to fix what I can; Ellie said she’ll help me with everything and will stay with me all along but once the weekend was over, I quickly came back to reality.

#wlw #lgbt #lesbian #sapphic #tlou #ellie tlou #modern ellie #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #the last of us #fluff #smut #drugs cw #slow burn #trauma

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wreywrites · 5 months ago

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Sorrows and Squeaky Toys

Summer of Bad Batch Week 2

Prompts: Injured & Comfort Zone

Warnings: Vague references to torture, nightmares (nothing graphic) AO3

“Crosshair?” Zara asked quietly.

She got a wordless growl in response.

“Crosshair, can I see your hand?”

“Kriff you—”

“Later,” she said, without any of the usual venom, snatching his wrist anyway, and scrutinizing his hand.

He jerked away, glaring at her.

“Crosshair—”

“It’s not that hand, idiot.” He held up the other hand.

That one definitely looked shaky.

With a resigned sigh, he held it out to her.

“Look all you like, I guess. Since I can’t stop you.”

Zara took his hand, working her fingers gently over his. “Master Brallo could have had you fixed up in no time. He was an excellent Force healer—kriff, he didn’t even need the Force, he could do it the medic way too. Ky had him teach me some—enough to get by. I wasn’t ever as good as the Healers though.”

“Are you trying to be comforting?”

She let out a short huff. “Wasn’t a very good way to phrase it, was it?”

“No. We need to work on your bedside manner.” He looked like he was going to say something more, but he stopped short with a hiss. “Ouch!”

“Sorry.” She paused, holding his palm like it was made of starfeather eggshells. “What happened? You know, why—?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he growled.

“Okay, but it would be easier to help if I knew what the injury was.”

Another growl.

Zara sighed. “Crosshair…”

He glared off over her shoulder.

“Crosshair, can I please help you? I know you don’t like it, but I really think I can at least make it better if you would just step out of your comfort zone—”

His face was an inch away, eyes burning into hers, fingers closed around her wrist like a vice. “We are so far beyond my comfort zone,” he snarled.

Zara wasn’t really afraid of Crosshair—not usually—but at that moment she didn’t exactly feel safe. Shaky hand or no, if there was going to be a murder, he had the advantage and the motivation. She flinched only a little, but she knew her eyes were wide and her nostrils flaring with every breath.

Crosshair’s voice dropped to a horrifying hoarse whisper. “We have sprinted past my comfort zone. And yet we are always in yours.”

“You’re right.” The words came out higher than she would have liked, but not a squeak—not yet. She swallowed and tried again. “You’re right. I—I know what sets me off and I avoid it like a plague. And it’s not fair that I get to do that and you don’t. So…” Zara took a deep breath.

After several seconds of silence, Crosshair said, “So what?”

“So I’m meditating. I don’t think I can actually heal your hand with the Force. I was never that good and I don’t want to mess it up. But I think I can help. I just have to meditate and focus on it and—”

“And that won’t set you off?”

“No, it will, it definitely will.” She finally felt brave enough to look him in the eye again. She was surprised to see how much his gaze had softened from murderous rage to something nearing legitimate concern. “I will absolutely have nightmares tonight, so I’ll need to borrow Batcher.”

He didn’t quite smile as he shook his head. “She likes you best anyway.”

“Companion animal breeds can sense trauma and are very emotionally intelligent. So it’s not exactly a good thing that I’m her favorite. Just means I have the most baggage. Now,” Zara smiled, “can I see your hand?”

*****

AZI told him once—more than once, probably, but when the droid got to blabbering Crosshair tended to tune him out—that the tremor might be psychosomatic.

Crosshair knew it was. But knowing the problem and fixing it were two separate issues.

More annoyingly, Zara was probably right—he needed to talk about it.

But not tonight. And besides, if he told anyone, it was going to be Batcher, because she’d never share his secrets.

Either way, his hand wasn’t shaking. Whatever Zara had done—he never knew—Omega told him once he had all the Force sensitivity of a meiloorun, and Zara had heard and laughed and agreed, and that hurt a little, even though it was true—whatever she had done when she closed her eyes and wrapped his hand in hers and just sat quietly for half an hour, it had worked. He’d gone all day with no shakes. When they ran into each other in the market, Zara headed one way with Echo and Crosshair headed the other way with a pack full of the little clay boats that made such good targets, she noticed him carrying the rifle and gave him a grin and a nod, and he nodded back, and that was it.

He hadn’t missed a single shot.

Crosshair sighed and knocked.

An excited bark came from inside the house.

“Batcher, it’s okay! Hey, get—get down, silly girl! Go find Squeaky Moon-yo and we’ll play.”

Another bark and the scrabbling of hound toes on hard floors.

The door opened.

“Hey.” Zara gave him a lopsided smile. “You’re out late.”

“You’re up late.”

“Yeah, well…” She shrugged and stepped back, gesturing him in. “Not like I’ll sleep well anyway—wasn’t in a rush to get to the nightmares. Batcher and I were watching Corrie Cops.”

Batcher came skidding back through the house, her squeaky toy dangling from her jaws. She dropped it at Zara’s feet.

“Good girl!” Zara picked up the toy and tossed it out the open back door. Batcher bounded joyfully after it.

“You don’t leave the door open at night, do you?”

“No, I close it before I go to bed. But when I’m up I usually leave it open so Batcher can come in and out.”

Batcher barked and Squeaky Moon-yo squeaked.

“I swear that thing was the best twelve credits I’ve ever spent.”

Crosshair nodded. Then, without waiting for an invitation, he walked into the living area and sat on the couch facing the holo screen. It was an old episode of Corrie Cops… Commander Thorn old. “What are you, eight seasons behind?”

“I’ve seen them all—well, not the last few episodes of the new season, but I’m not sure I’ll keep watching. It’s not as good as it used to be. Makes me…” She trailed off, arms crossed, not looking at him.

He nodded again and patted the couch next to him. “Sit.”

Zara frowned. “Serious?”

“Serious.”

“You wanna talk about things being outside your comfort zone.”

“Yeah, well…” He shrugged. “Hand hasn’t been shaking all day. You deserve a good night’s sleep.”

She wrapped herself in a blanket off the armchair, then sat beside him. “I’ll still have nightmares.”

“I’ll wake you up.” Tentative, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

She started to lean in, then sat back up. “Oh, the door—”

Crosshair whistled. “Batcher!”

The lurca trotted back in and dropped Squeaky Moon-yo next to her bed.

“Bring it here.” Crosshair held his open palm toward her.

Batcher tilted her head, then picked Squeaky Moon-yo up again and carried it to Crosshair. He took the toy, sizing it up for a moment. With a flick of the wrist, he whipped the squeaky toy across the room where it thumped into the door switch and slid the door shut.

“Nice.” Zara leaned against him again.

Having retrieved Squeaky Moon-yo, Batcher returned to the couch, dropping heavily to the floor in front of it.

Crosshair reached down and rubbed the top of her head. “Good girl.”

Batcher sighed, then sprawled out and fell instantly asleep.

The kitchen light was still on, but there was nothing to be done for that, and Zara didn’t seem terribly concerned as she snuggled closer.

“This is the episode where they catch that guy smuggling spice by—” She stopped.

Crosshair was already reaching for the remote. He remembered this episode too. Not that he would ever admit how much he enjoyed Corrie Cops or the fact that he had seen every episode at least four times. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the holo screen shut off before they showed the Jedi Temple as the backdrop for their undercover operation.

Wordlessly, Zara waved a hand toward the kitchen. The lights flicked off. Then she sniffed. “Might as well be lazy—already going to have nightmares.”

“Zara—”

“Good night, Crosshair.”

“Thank you. For—my hand.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispered.

“Now, go to sleep.”

She nodded against his shoulder, and soon he had a snoring lurca at his feet and the slow rise and fall of Zara’s chest at his side.

*****

Squirming next to him woke him up.

Crosshair shook his head, blinking, confused for a moment about where he was—not his bunk, not his bedroom, not Kamino—

Zara squirmed again and he remembered.

“Hey.” He put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her just a little. “Zara, wake up.”

Nothing.

“Zara.”

She sat up with a strangled yelp. To her credit, she didn’t pull her lightsaber on him. She sat ramrod straight, staring through the far wall, sides heaving with shallow and much too quick breaths.

He wasn’t sure if he always rubbed circles on her back when she had nightmares, but he was now, hand still on her shoulder, thumb tracing little circles by her shoulder blade. “It’s just us,” he said quietly. “Just you and me and Batcher.”

Slowly, he felt her calm down. Her shoulders rose and fell less frantically, her breaths were less raspy and audible. Finally, she leaned back against him, staring up at the ceiling. He could see tears in her eyes and chose not to comment.

“Your nightmares—they’re about the Purge, aren’t they?”

Zara took a shaky breath and nodded. “They didn’t do anything to your hand on Tantiss, did they?”

He shook his head. “It’s psychosomatic.”

Her fingers laced between his. “Must be why you’re Batcher’s second favorite.”

*****

“Omega, you know you need to knock before you barge into people’s houses—”

“Shh!” she hissed. “I messaged Zara and she didn’t answer, which means she’s sleeping, and she told me I’m welcome to let myself in—especially if she has Batcher overnight—so I did, and—” She stopped, pushed Echo into the living area, and gestured at the couch.

Crosshair was on his back, fast asleep on the end of the couch that reclined, one arm hanging off the armrest, the other draped across Zara’s stomach and ending in their fingers tangled together. Echo couldn’t tell which one of them was snoring a little.

Echo smiled and shook his head. “Batcher,” he whispered. When she looked up at him, he jerked his head at the front door and she trotted out, tongue lolling. He followed the lurca, steering Omega in front of him by the shoulders, then closed the door behind them.

“Didn’t know they were having a sleepover.” Omega sounded impish. “She just said she was going to see if she could do something for his hand.”

Echo resisted about eighteen different jokes and simply said, “She did—yesterday morning—and then I’ll bet you a hundred credits he felt bad last night because he knew she’d have nightmares, so he came over to keep an eye on her.”

Omega looked thoughtful, then nodded. “It’s nice that they can help each other. Even if they don’t always like it.”

Echo laughed. “Yeah, the inherent bitterness of being a portable comfort zone for someone you aren’t sure if you hate or—” He caught himself and shot Omega a look out of the corner of his eye. “Hey, don’t tell anyone about this.”

The girl snorted. “I won’t. I like Zara, but I don’t want to have to cuddle her after her nightmares because Wrecker teased Crosshair into quitting.”

“The inherent bitterness strikes again!”

“Hey! Besides, if I’m bitter about anything, it’s that I can’t do what she does, and she can’t teach me because—because it hurts.”

Echo pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The thing about injuries like that—they go deep. They take a long time to heal.”

“But they do, right? She says she’s better than she was.”

“Yeah. You just have to feel safe enough to let yourself heal. And now she does. They both do.”

#summerofbadbatch2024 #week2 #injured #comfort zone #wrey writes #sw: shattered #oc zara rau #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tbb echo #batcher the lurca hound

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rogerswifesblog · 2 years ago

Note

Sub bucky and dom reader (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

Stress relief

A/N: thank you for this ask! I really needed some motivation to finally write once again for Buck:3 so here’s a short one shot for you<3

Pairing: sub!Bucky Barnes x dom!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have a thing after missions…a little…stress relief technique.

Warnings: mentioned mission, shower sex, male masturbation(briefly), mistress/mommy kink, oral m receiving, in v, sub/needy Bucky, crying during sex (maybe kinda breeding kink? I’m not sure lol)

You looked to the super soldier sitting opposite from you, already noticing how his gaze fell onto your cleavage. Bucky licked his lips, unknowingly signalizing you what would happen as soon as the jet landed, his iris already swallowed by the black of his pupils. You really couldn’t wait for what would happen as soon as you’d land…

The last time you two had been intimate was probably a few weeks ago and from the look on Bucky's face you could tell he needed it as badly as you.

Maybe even more. Definitely more. Seeing as his pants were already tented.

As soon as the jet landed you went straight to your room, even though you heard the Captain tell everyone to go on a check up to the medics, but you weren’t hurt. You didn’t want to waste anymore time.

Only a few minutes after you entered the room, Bucky stormed right after you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you close to his chest. “God I’m so-“ “Buck, we need to shower”, you whispered, while the greedy soldier started kissing down your throat, not caring about the dirt clinging to your body. “Forget the shower, we’ll get filthy either way” “I feel really dirty Buck-“ “We’ll shower later-””I’ll suck you off, baby”, this definitely changed Bucky's mind.

He grabbed his jacket, throwing it to the floor, his shirt following, while he walked to your bathroom. The clothes like a trail of breadcrumbs, showing you the way.

Head shaking you started taking off your own clothes, walking after Bucky to the bathroom, where you could already hear the shower running.

As soon as you entered the bathroom your gaze fell to Bucky, who was standing in the steaming shower. The beefy man leaning with his back against the wet tiles. His hand wrapped around his hard dick, stroking his shaft slowly, while he watched your naked form enter the shower, too. “Mommy, need you”, he whispered, squeezing his dick a bit harder, making it leak even more pre cum till his hand was coated and glistening with it, looking too good to not get a taste.

A quiet whine escaped his lips when you slowly dropped to your knees in front of him, your hands stroking along his thighs up to his hips. “Mistress, please…”, he whispered, grabbing your hair with his free hand and pulling you closer to his hard leaking cock.

You stuck out your tongue, letting Bucky rub his mushroom head over your tongue, leaving the taste of his precum behind. A moan escaped your lips, while you slowly wrapped your lips around his dick, your tongue licking over his slit, making his knees buckle.

Bucky moaned loudly while you took him deeper into your mouth. He loved watching your lips stretch around his width, especially after he found out he was the biggest you’ve ever been with. It made something possessive rise up in his chest. A warmth spreading in his whole body. Fuck, you looked so good on your knees. Sucking his dick.

When he felt you swallow around him, he couldn’t stop himself from moaning loudly, fucking deeper into your mouth. “Oh god-Mistress-feels so good”, he whined, grabbing your hair even harsher, when he felt your nose brushing against his pelvic.

For a moment you just stayed like this, before letting him out of your mouth with a loud ‘plop’, while you liked over your lips you couldn’t stop gazing at his heavy dick, hanging from the weight, not being able to straighten.

Grinning, you looked up at Bucky, kissing his tip gently. “Such a good boy for me…Do you want to cum on Mommy’s tits? Face? Or want me to swallow?” Your words made Buckys dick twitch and leak more fluid over your hand and even drip onto your body.

You could see how dilated his pupils were, swallowing the bright color fully. His mouth slightly agape, panting quietly, not being able to put a coherent sentence together.

You pinched his thigh gently, licking around his tip, before pushing his dick up, to lick over his balls, sucking one into your mouth, before letting it out of your mouth. A spit string connecting your lips to his skin. Your saliva and his pre-cum coated your chin and hand. It was messy. Filthy even. But you enjoyed it even more that way. “Pretty boy, answer the question.”

Bucky whined quietly. “Tits-wait-no, no-swallow-want mommy to swallow-please swallow”, he whispered, pressing his dick to your lips, wanting for you to lick over his shaft again.

That’s exactly what you did, taking him once again in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. Bucky gasped, moving his hips, fucking right into your throat, chasing his high. “Mommy-fuck-feels so good-“, he panted, grabbing your hair with both of his hands, just holding. He knew he’d be punished if he started moving your head himself-he did it once. He learned from his mistakes.

“Please-please can I cum? I need to cum, mommy-need it so badly. The mission was-Mhm,fuck-so stressful. Please I need to cum, please, please.” Bucky leaned his head against the wall, trying to hold back his orgasm. You stroked his dick a bit quicker, playing with the other hand with his balls. You could already tell how tight and full these were.

“Pretty boy, you can cum for me. Cum for mommy. Show me how much you like it. Let me hear you”, with that you started sucking at his head again, circling the tip of your tongue along his slit. Bucky was wildly nodding, shooting his load within a few more seconds when you deepthroated him. You name and mommy was leaving his lips like a prayer, while he fucked into your throat even deeper.

His cum hit your throat filling your mouth with his taste, making you moan around him. The vibrations made his orgasm last even longer. “So good-so, so good, mistress-“, without another word he pulled you up, immediately hooking his arms underneath your knees and lifting you up. The tip of his dick was still leaking with cum, while he pressed against your wet cunt.

“Mommy-want to fuck you. I need it. I need to feel your pussy, please, please, please”, he whined against your throat kissing your soft skin, his dick rutting against your now with cum coated folds. His voice sounding weak to your ears, teary even. Like he was close to crying. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning when his tip rubbed along your clit, sometimes catching at your slit.

You nodded, grabbing Bucky's hair with one hand and wrapping your other hand around his cock. “Yes Baby, need to feel you. Fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me”, you moaned in his ear, positioning his tip at your wet cunt.

Bucky pushed in with one single thrust, not letting you adjust before starting to fuck into you roughly. You threw your head back, clinging onto him while he pounded into your tight cunt, moaning and sobbing into your throat.

The sounds of skin slapping, moans and squelching, made your bathroom sound like a pornograpic scene.

Bucky's tip grazed over your soft spot with every thrust, making you see stars. The hard movements and rough pounding making it impossible to not scratch over his back. Your nails left red lines behind, even drawing some blood. The pain added to Buckys please, letting him get even rougher. “Fuck baby-fuck, fuck-so good”, you moaned loudly, crossing your legs behind his back.

When Buckys fingers found your clit, circling and rubbing it, a sudden orgasm rushed over you. Squirting over Buckys dick your cunt squeezed him tightly. “Mommy, oh god-Please, wanna-wanna fill you. Please let me fill you”, he sobbed against your lips, kissing you furiously, greedy. “Need’a cum-mommy, please”, he whined again.

“Yes-honey, I want it. Fill mommy up. Make her all full of your cum. Make me your mommy”, you moaned weekly, still having Bucky pound into your overstimulated cunt, hitting your soft spot all the time.

A few more thrusts later Bucky was spilling into you, coating your walls with his seed. “Oh god-mommy-fuuck, so good..”, he whined into your throat, leaning more against you. You could still feel his cock throb, filling your cunt with his cum, some of it already leaking out around his cock and onto the floor.

You could hear Bucky sob against your skin, burying his face further into your neck. It wasn’t the first time bucky needed to cry during or after sex. You knew how pent up he was during missions and that he needed to let it all out somehow-the best way to do so was with sex. “It’s okay baby”, you whispered, in his ear, kissing his cheek and temple. “Th-thank you mommy”, he sobbed, leaning closer into your embrace.

It took Bucky a few minutes to finally calm down and he slowly pulled out. He couldn’t stop himself from watching his cum leaking out of you. He did this. He had filled you with his cum. “Let’s…let’s shower and then go to bed so I can eat you out”, he grinned lightly, putting you down. Your legs felt a bit wobbly, so Bucky helped you stand while the two of you washed each other’s bodies with gentle, soft, touches.

Pt two

Thank you for reading 🤭👀 I hope you liked it!

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