#I’ve noticed everyone just wants to know everything about every character when you can just draw conclusions yourself

[bots-and-cons]

Do you mind writing about Knockout, Ratchet, and or Breakdown with a human reader on their period. They fee nauseous and don’t have an appetite for the first few days, really bad cramps, chest pain, and migraines too. Idk if this breaks any rules or the character limit if choosing one character is better for you there will be no complaints from me thank you for taking request 😄.

A/N: I’ve got a couple of other posts with period stuff too, you can find those, here, here, here, and here. You get four extra posts for one request lol. I decided to do just Knockout and Ratchet, seems I’m in the mood for those two lately

~Ratchet~

•For like the first two months since he first met you he noticed that for about 6 days a month, you were pretty freaking miserable

•You barely ate anything and you seemed to be in pain and all around uncomfortable

•The first time Ratchet thought that maybe you were just sick, and he didn’t really know you that well yet, so he didn’t really express that much concern

•He did ask if you were okay a couple of times, but you assured him it was nothing to worry about

•But when the whole thing repeated a month later, he thought it was weird

•When he asked again if you were okay, and told you about his observations, you realized he probably doesn’t know about periods

•You had to explain the whole thing to him, because he obviously had no idea this is a normal human bodily function

•Ratchet is of course a bit weirded out by the whole thing, but he’s not grossed out

•He just finds it wild that some humans have to deal with something like that

•And all the cramps, migraines and stuff on top of that? How do you survive this every month?

•Ratchet doesn’t consider it his problem, but he will make sure everyone else is as quiet as possible when you have a migraine and are resting in a dark room somewhere in the base

•He wants to make sure he or anyone else doesn’t make it worse

•If you show symptoms he hasn’t seen before, he will ask about it, and he makes sure you’re doing fine

•While he insists it’s not his problem and that he doesn’t have time to take care of you, he still checks on you periodically

~Knockout~

•Knockout notices you’re uncomfortable and he immediately asks you about it

•You’re leaning on a wall because you’re having a really bad cramp, and you’re just not feeling well in general

•You have to explain to Knockout that you’re not sick, you’re just having your period

•He’s like, “And what exactly is that?”

•You explain to him, it’s your uterine lining shedding and bleeding out of you

•He makes a very grossed out face for a second, before being like “Are you okay? That doesn’t sound healthy”

•You sort of chuckle, but you assure him that it’s natural, even if it totally sucks

•He asks how you cope with it, because that sounds like a mess and painful and all around not a good time

•He’s honestly kind of curious about the whole thing, even if he does find it pretty freaking weird

•How is it even possible for you to bleed for multiple days in a row? That doesn’t sound like it’s good for you

•Knockout constantly reminds you about drinking water, and he somehow got his hands on some dark chocolate for you too, because he read it might help with the cramps

•He’s worried about the migraines especially, because it seems you’re having a very, very bad time

•Knockout is worried about everything that’s making you uncomfortable, and it annoys him that he can’t really do anything about your pains or aches

[evansbby]

What did Bucky think/feel when he locked omega out of the house? Generally curious since he has feelings for her, so I wonder why would he be that cruel to her? Like what on earth was going on in his head

I feel like hints towards his feelings are given in the text. It says something about how his eyes widen when he sees her all wet and shivering, and then he swallows before his expression changes back to normal. Make of that what you will😭😭

[suosgirl]

Party in the USA (the dayger’s going crazy)

Word Count: 15k+

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Characters: Hayato Suo, Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Kotoha Tachibana, Jo Togame, Ren Kaji, Mitsuki Kiryu, Akihiko Nirei, Choji Tomiyama, Toma Hiragi, Kyotaro Sugishita, Taiga Tsugeura

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, gn!reader, alcohol (lots of it), alcohol consumption, weed, weed consumption, cigarettes, ooc (most definitely), shitposting, for fun! – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: I feel very well qualified to write about this. I have hands-on experience and feel strongly about this topic. Please feel free to send me an ask regarding any of my references (I have attended many, many daygers.) This is actually so americancore and niche of me – sorry (not sorry). Also! Don’t be fooled, I hate America!

Hajime Umemiya | “Hey! Hi! Are ya hungry?”

The first face you see when you walk in, all in his shirtless glory

An absolute king at grilling – he’s got burgers, hotdogs, skewers, the works

The lettuce and tomatoes? Yeah, he grew them

Will take every chance he has to tell everyone too

Be careful though – for as much as he’s hot, he’s also a yapper

Being behind the grill unlocks a side of him that not many know – his dad side

“There’s a lot at steak… it’s un-grill-ievable!”

Buzzed & responsible – doesn’t let himself get too lit when he’s grilling

But once everyone’s had their fill and he’s got some downtime? Oh he’s inviting everyone to shotgun a beer with him

Can slam down a can in like 3 seconds no joke

Then, he’ll turn to you with stars in his eyes waiting for your words of praise and acknowledgement (how do you tell him that he did it so fast that you didn't see it?)

Toma Hiragi | “Whaddya drinkin’?”

You’re telling me you WOULDN'T trust this man to get the best liquor for the party?

Gonna go out on a limb here and say that he leans toward either Hennessy or Casamigos

Throws back his shots like a fucking champ – no chase needed (he likes the burn of it)

Definitely a heavy weight, so he’s got at least 2 of whatever he’s drinking just in case

Also doesn’t drink chase because of his stomach, so you know – go big or go home

Never lets you pour your own shots (chivalry isn’t dead, everyone)

And … if you ask him nicely … he’ll birdfeed it to you

Ren Kaji | “Chase is over there – you need help getting it?”

With how much candy he has to inhale on a daily basis, it just makes sense that he would be getting the soda, juice, or whatever pairing he thinks goes well with the corresponding liquor

And he definitely went with Hiragi to pick everything up (so cute)

Also in charge of the playlist for the day (I know his music taste is impeccable)

If you tell him this, though, he’d try to be so nonchalant about it (inside his heart is doing little pitter patters)

I feel like he has little shit tendencies and once everyone is feeling good he’ll see how many times he can queue Party In The USA until someone notices (wears his headphone tho bc ofc he would get annoyed)

Akihiko Nirei | “I made it! It’s really good – want a sip?”

JUNGLE! JUICE! PRO!

I just know he’s got the most insane recipe in his notebook (he’s got the exact measurements and brand names too)

Based on countless interviews, many trial runs, and many hangovers –  he’s perfected it to a T

Literally one cup has everyone on a good one – and he’s somehow got it to not taste like alcohol at all?

So proud of it too – if you tell him how good it is he’s got hearts in his eyes and he’s offering to get you another cup (with your consent of course)

Haruka Sakura | “I just grabbed the first one I saw … is it good? Do you like it?”

He’s new to this you know, so he’s keeping it cute and simple and easy

Besides, you can never go wrong with a pack of seltzers

He’s so cute and flustered about it too –

Like imagine him standing in front of the fridges just looking at all of them and getting slowly overwhelmed by all the different types and seeing that they all have different alc % and it’s getting so confusing

He just grabs one that looks decently good or has a name that seems kinda familiar to him and he storms off

And it’s literally like Twisted Tea or White Claws or something

But, as I said, you can never go wrong with a nice basic seltzer

Compliment his choice (even if you know it was made on a whim) and he’ll blush (he blames it on the summer heat)

Hayato Suo | “Do you want me to get your back?”

Sweet, thoughtful king

Brings sunblock and aloe vera gel because he just knows that everyone else will forget the basic necessities

If you need help getting your back, he’s more than happy to offer his services

Also – who would he be if he didn’t bring green tea shots (it’s a given)

He actually created them not many people know that

It’s always the perfect ratio too – never too strong and never too weak (the perfect balance)

Anyways, also a heavyweight (potentially) but gets just a bit touchy when he’s buzzed

So when he offers to reapply sunblock on you despite having done it less than 30 minutes ago, who are you to say no?

Kyotaro Sugishita | “I need a partner … You any good?”

This man absolutely demolishes at beer pong

Never leaves the table actually (and stays undefeated the whole dayger)

He’s so tall like he’s got built-in stats for it already

If Umemiya takes a break from grilling and comes to join him? Oh they’re absolutely wiping everyone

If beer pong was an Olympic sport, Sugashita would’ve already been scouted

Because he’s so good, he doesn’t even need a partner that’s at the same level as him – he just needs a partner

But – to him, making at least one cup is better than nothing, and if you’re able to do just that? Oh, you’re never leaving his side

Mitsuki Kiryu | “You want a hit, cutie?”

It’s actually canon that Kiryu smokes like I just know it in my heart and soul

Loves to make different blends too, some with rose petals and some with lavender 

His blunts are so pretty too, and he’ll use pink wrapping papers

Also has a small bong just in case anyone wants it in that form — and also edibles

And also cigs

He has money, why wouldn’t he show out?

His lighters all have decoden on them too, and they all have his name spelled on it (he was tired of people stealing them)

Also incredibly respectful – brings his own ashtray that he disposes of on his own

I feel like he transitions a lot of people into smoking for the first time (if they’re interested, of course! Would never peer pressure.)

But …. Oh boy… the way that he would gently tilt your head back to blow a hit into your mouth

Kotoha Tachibanau | “I’m gonna get you so wet!”

Give this girl a break she deserves to have fun!

Stays in the pool most of the time, but also loves to soak up the sun so she’s got her own self-care agenda for the day

Loves water guns! Brings like 2 or 3 of them

Also probably brings a book to enjoy by the pool when she’s tanning

Definitely the type to get the ice water from the coolers and spray anyone who tries to come within 5 feet of her

If she feels silly (and buzzed) she’ll pour jungle juice into them and shoot them into people’s mouths

Takes this time to truly relax and unwind (we love a work-life balance!) – and loves doing it beside you

Taiga Tsugeura | “Don’t forget to drink water!”

Absolutely brings cases of water and liquid IV

He’s all for partying, don’t get him wrong, but he’s also got to hit the gym tomorrow so

Makes sure that everyone’s got a bottle of water on them – his virtue is caring too much

Also decently good at beer pong, but his downfall is that he throws the ball too hard and ends up hitting people like 10 feet away from him in the head

Also strikes me as unhinged, so – if you’re cool with getting pulled into the pool, then he’s definitely your guy

Definitely does flips while diving into the pool to try and impress you (it works)

Jo Togame | “Need some help with that?”

What Sakura may lack in seltzers, Togame makes up in beer

If there’s one thing he knows, it’s a good brand of beer

Also clocked in my mind as a heavyweight, so if he’s up to drink, he’s bringing many many cases

Has a bottle opener that has sentimental value to him – probably one that Choji got for him

Can also pop it open with his teeth (but no one ever lets him because it’s bad)

("Sure, okay, whatever squares" — he listens.)

If he sees you struggling to pop the cap off, he’s already grabbing it from your hand and doing it for you – no questions asked

(Ask him while he’s buzzed, and he’ll do it with his teeth, all while staring into your eyes)

Choji Tomiyama | “Let’s take a shot!”

The first thing he does is do a cannonball in the pool (this is so canon)

If you’re a soju lover – he’s got it!

Brings all the flavors too, but is most partial to yogurt-flavored soju

Is flitting all over the party talking to everyone and anyone

(Tries his hand at beer pong – going to go out on a limb here and say that he sucks)

However! He is a heavyweight!

Can hold his own with Umemiya and Togame for sure

Is definitely the one gathering everyone together to take some shots

Will probably ask Kaji to play Shots by LMFAO and Lil Jon every single time (after the first time, Kaji starts ignoring him)

If you’re open to shots, is absolutely pulling you by your arm to take yet another one

[lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I was browsing through the female characters tags and I just realized that they don't have a lot of fics. Well, not as much as the male charas have. So I thought "hey maybe I can write a couple of fics" and here we are. I love Furina with all my heart, so ofc she has to be the first one I'm writing for.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Fluff with a hint of angst, sagau, gn!reader, spoiler about Fontaine archon quest

"Are you comfortable?" You ask her, voice soft like velvet.

Furina nod, resting her head on your chest, the warmth of your body almost too comforting to bear, yours arms encircling her waist as your fingers send hot shivers down her spine. She dare to look on the eyes, though it's a quick glance before she looks to somewhere else.

“You’re so warm,” she murmurs, a barely noticeable hint of sadness hanging on her tone before it disappears, replaced by one of her theatrical smile. You chuckle softly, wrapping your arms tighter around her.

“You deserve every bit of comfort, my dear. You’ve been working so hard.”

A pang of guilt stabs at her heart. She bites her lip, her thoughts swirling in a tempest of self-doubt and secrets. How can she accept these tender words when she isn’t even the true Archon of Fontaine? Her position is built on deception, a mantle she wears but doesn’t own. If you are God themselves, how can you not know? Or you do know and want her to say it?

If it's you, she's glad to rip the etched mask that's been sewed on her own face for so long.

“Do I?” she whispers, her voice barely audible. You pull back slightly, cupping her face gently.

“Of course, you do,” you reply, kissing her forehead. She closes her eyes, the kiss burning against her skin. She doesn’t deserve this love, this unwavering trust. If only you knew the truth...

“I’m not...” she begins, her voice cracking. Your brow furrows in concern.

“Not what, Furina?”

She takes a deep breath, struggling to find the words. How can she break your heart with her confession? But she can’t continue living this lie, not when it weighs so heavily on her soul.

“I’m not the real Archon,” She blurts out, tears welling in her eyes as she refuse to meet your eyes. She's waiting for the worse, waiting for you to pus her away and curse her - as she had seen happening in those nightmares that plague her mind.

“I’m a fraud, a lier. Fontaine deserves better. You deserve better.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you gently wipe away her tears with your thumb and offer her a gentle smile.

“Furina, look at me,” You say softly. “I don’t care about titles or power. I care about you, the person you are. You’ve brought so much joy and strength to this nation, and to me. And I knew, I knew everything.”

Her heart aches with a mix of relief and disbelief. How can you still hold her so dearly, despite her confession?

“But... I’m not worthy,” Furina insists, her voice trembling, she looking so surprised right now, eyes as open as possible. “I’ve deceived everyone. How can you love someone like me?”

You lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Because I see the real you, beyond the titles and the façade. I see your kindness, your courage, and your love for Fontaine. And that’s more than enough.”

Her tears flow freely now, a mix of sorrow and gratitude. She clings to you, burying her face in your shoulder.

“Thank you,” She whispers, her voice muffled. She hugs you closer, tighter than she ever did, not caring about your godly status right now or decorum. “Thank you for seeing me and not hating me. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You hold her close, your embrace a shield against her doubts. In your arms, Furina finds a glimmer of hope, a belief that perhaps, she is worthy of love after all.

That perhaps everything she suffered through those 500 haven't been for nothing. Maybe she can still play her part till Focalors help everyone.

[mavrintarou]

[4:44 PM] Suna Rintarou

Quickly whipped this because I'm trying to find an excuse to not go to the gym. Nothing edited. I know all I ever post about is Rin, Rin, Kiyoomi, Shinsuke, and Rin again... he was just too fitting for this. I'm really trying to expand my fantasy to the other characters.

Warning: Angst, asshole Rin, makeup smut contents .

Rintarou let out a frustrated sigh having been blocked once again. That was three times now in a row.

“Shake it off!” he heard his teammate shout.

“Suna!” Turning his head, he can see his coach signaling for him to rotate out, switching with his other teammate.

As soon as he was off the court, his coach jerked his head, indicating for him to take the empty seat beside him. “What’s going on?”

Rintarou inhales sharply, “bad day, I guess?” He knew what was going on, just didn’t want to speak of it.

“Well, turn that bad day into a good day, shake it off, everyone needs you.” His coach pats his shoulder, “do whatever you gotta do.”

EPJ Raijin lost their second set, this third game will determine their win or not.

With a towel over his head, Rin zoned out, tuning out the sound of the crowd and everything else around him. The only thing on his mind was Y/n.

Three weeks ago, they abruptly ended their casual fling.

No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t his fault, it was definitely, his fault.

He is a hypocrite.

He was the one who said just casual sex. No feelings.

But the moment he saw her at a table with another man he did not recognize at one of Matsumoto’s top restaurants, he lost his shit.

How dare she doll up and wear a red dress, the red dress he purchased for her to go on a date with this mother fucker.

He watched as Y/n looked at her phone, the smile on her face immediately disappeared. Rin looked down at his phone, seeing the Read underneath the photo he sent her.

Y/n glanced up, her eyes scanning the room until they met his. He arched an eyebrow at her, and she responded by tilting her head, mirroring his expression perfectly.

Bathroom. Now. He texted.

Rin didn’t need to look back to see Y/n following him shortly as he made his way to the restroom.

He tugged her into the private room, locking the door behind him. “Really?” His eyes scanned her from head to toe.

“Really,” Y/n smiled, and she gave him a spin. “Do you not like it?”

Y/n knew how to rile him up, making the green jealous monster within him wake up and flip a table.

Rin stalked towards her, noticing how her smile slowly faded as she stepped back until she hit the counter of the sink. He pressed himself against her, sandwiching her between him and the counter. His fingers trail along her jaw, “does your date know that I purchased this dress and that I’ve fucked you while you were wearing it?”

“Be careful Rintarou,” she only used his full name when she was serious, “jealousy looks good on you but some might believe you’ve developed feelings for me.”

She has become bold, voicing her feelings each day.

Rin was not oblivious. He knows this casual fling between them needs to end. He wasn’t blind to her recent advances.

How her eyes twinkle for him when he comes over.

How she holds him tighter when he’s rocking deeply inside her.

How she whispers his name with love.

How she kisses his palms before a game, giving him luck.

She is expressing her love for him in every possible way except through words. Because the moment she played that card, he would end the game.

“You’re becoming delusional, Y/n.” He gritted, his lips smirking, “I will admit I am jealous, should I show you how jealous I am?”

They glared at one another, Y/n looking deep into his eyes, searching for the man she fell in love with. Deep down, she knew her place. “Do it,” she whispered, “I dare you.”

His eyes darken and she’s flipped around in a blink of an eye. She sees in the mirror as Rin tugs her dress up, bunching it at her hips, his fingers immediately graze over the thin lacy thong, circling her clit.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, biting down on her lip to prevent herself from moaning. “Hurry, I have my date I need to get back to.”

“As you wish.”

Y/n half gasped and yelped at his hand and slapped her right ass cheek. Her thong is pushed to the side as feels his cock sliding in between her thighs.

“You’re soaked, was it me or him?” He began rocking, thrusting in between her thighs. He pulled her against him, locking an arm around her shoulder. He locked eyes with her through the mirror, “answer me.”

“You.” Y/n whispered, “you made me this wet…” she whimpered when he rolled his hips, his cock grazing against her clit. “Please… Rin…”

His teeth nips her earlobe as he reached in between them and align his cock to her pussy and slipped inside in one swift thrust. He wastes no time pounding into her from behind. Y/n’s hand comes to cover her mouth.

His groans are heavy against her ear and he hated it, hated how she made him feel. His teeth bite down on her skin, biting down hard until he can feel Y/n flitching and tightening around his cock.

Rin pulls away, satisfied by his mark, knowing it would be visible. He pauses his movement for a second, maneuvering her until she is bent forward before him. His grip on her hips tightened as he resumed his thrusts, pounding until the small bathroom echoed only of their skin slapping.

Y/n drops onto her elbow, head falling forward as her moans are muffled by her hands. He was thrusting deep inside her, triggering her orgasm faster than usual. “Ri – Rin…” she whimpered, a hand reaching behind to push against his abdomen. “Too fast…”

He gripped her wrist and thrust faster until the moment he felt her pussy flutter around his cock.

“Ah,” he groaned coming undone, pounding into her slowly yet hard with each ejaculation. His eyes suddenly widened, “fuck.”

He forgot to wear a condom.

He let go of her wrist and immediately withdrew, his cock was coated with their essence. It wasn’t a time for his cock to twitch lively again at the sight of his cum leaking down Y/n’s pussy and down her thighs.

He swore again, half turned on and half pissed off at himself.

He always wore a condom.

“Here,” he slammed a few bills on the counter, “get yourself the pill. Let’s end this.”

Rin groaned, covering his face. He was such a fucken asshole.

He glanced down at his palms, feeling disheartened by his poor performance, and was convinced that it was all because Y/n hadn’t kissed his palms before the game.

His mind flashed back to the very first time she had done it. She had come to his game, and just before it started, she called his name and took hold of his wrists. Rin looked at her confused, but she gently turned his palms upward and pressed her lips to the center of his hand. “Good luck kisses,” she whispered with a smile.

“Hey, look it’s Y/n.”

Rin’s head snapped up, and he swiftly removed the towel from his head. Before him stood Motoya, gazing towards the crowd behind Rin. In response, Rin pivoted his upper body and scanned the bustling crowd. “Where?”

“Right there!” Motoya pointed.

Rin’s gaze tracked his pointed finger until it intersected with the eyes of the pair he longed for so intensely.

As if caught in the act, she hastily concealed her face and attempted to make a swift getaway.

“Y/n!” Rin roared over the loud music and crowd chatter, chasing after her. He hopped over the barriers and ascended the stairs with determination. “Y/n!” he called out once more, steadily closing the gap between them as she weaved through the crowd.

Finally, reaching his limit, he lengthened his strides and snagged her wrist, gently drawing her into his embrace. “Stop, please don’t run,” he implored softly. His arms constricted around her, one hand tenderly cradling the back of her head. “Please don’t go,” he whispered.  

She remained tensed in his embrace and softly uttered, “you’re the one who walked away.”

“I know, I’m a fucken fool. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I left you. Please,” he pulled away, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Please come back to me, I am a mess without you. I need you, Y/n. I –” he blinks the tears back, “I’m in love with you, please come back to me, please.”  

Her eyes widen, hearing the words she longed to hear. Tears filled her pretty eyes as she closed them, letting the tears fall down her cheeks before she nodded her head.

Rin sighed in relief and hugged her once more, “thank God. I love you. I love you, Y/n. I love you so fucken much and it took walking away from you to realize I am in love with you all this time.” He leaned back to cup her face, “please, can I kiss you?”

She extended her hand to gently cup his face, drawing him down to meet her lips. Their mouths danced in a graceful, passionate exchange until they parted, both gasping for breath. Their lips inches apart, “I love… I love you too, Rin. I loved you for a long time.”

“I know, I know baby.” He pressed his lips against hers again. “I’m never letting you go again.”

Y/n nodded, “promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

Her eyes widened and she leaned back, “Rin don’t you have a – “

“Suna! Where the fuck did you go? The third set is about to start!”

.

Rin’s mouth never once left Y/n as they stumbled into his apartment. He pulled away briefly to tug off his shirt before his mouth resumed hungrily against hers.

In the grueling third set, EPJ Raijin fought valiantly, shedding blood and sweat, and managed to secure a hard-fought victory. Finally, with the fortunate kisses pressed onto his palm by his beloved, Rin executed his spikes flawlessly, scoring nine crucial points that contributed to their triumphant win.

His hands rest on Y/n’s hips, guiding her backward towards the hall of his place and into his bedroom. He is nervous, almost shy at standing half naked before her. “I… I didn’t get to shower after the game – do you want to shower together?”

Her lips curved upward as she grabbed his hand leading him into his bathroom. She quickly stripped her clothes off and turned on the shower, looking over her shoulder, Rin stood there gawking as if he had never seen her naked before. “You coming?”

He quickly pushed down his joggers and boxers, striding into the shower with her. The water cascaded down their bodies as she reached for his body wash to spread it all over his body.

Rin caught her wrist that was lathering his chest with body wash and brought it down to his cock, he closed her hand around it. He hissed feeling his cock harden from her touch. “Y/n,” he murmured, slowly thrusting into her hand.

Y/n stepped closer, pressed her lips to his left nipple, sucking it gently and swirling her tongue around the bud. Her hand tightens around his cock as she strokes him faster.

He hissed, reaching with his other hand to find her clit, “missed this.”

“I missed this too,” Y/n squeezed his cock, pressing her thumb against the tip. She was about to drop to her knees when he stopped her.

“I need to be inside you, now.” He lifted her, her legs wrapped around his hips and arms around his neck. He easily slipped his cock inside her pussy.

For a brief moment, they savored the intimate moment of being united as one again.

Y/n leaned down and kissed him deeply and passionately, rocking her hips to meet his thrusts. “Ah!” she breaks the kiss, moaning his name. “We – we forgot a condom – again…”

Rin thrust deeper, pressing his lips to her clavicle. “I’m clean, there – there’s been no one but you…”

Y/n’s arms tighten around his shoulder and neck, her lips to his ear, “that’s not what I mean… Rin – we could risk –“

Rin is reminded of the last time he came inside of her. He is selfish but he wanted nothing more than to cum inside of her again, over again and again until he knows she is pregnant.

Y/n pregnant with his baby, he loves the thought of that.

He wanted that.

Y/n moaned loudly into his ear, “you like that?” She tightens her pussy around his cock, hearing him groan, slowing his hips. “You want to knock me up, Rin? You want me to have your baby?” He hummed, agreeing. “You want to breed me?”

“Yes. Fuck yes. I want to breed you. Cum inside you again. And again.” His nose trailed along her neck until he reached her ear, “I’m not asking Y/n, I’m going to cum inside you. I’m going to put a baby – my baby inside you.” He nipped her earlobe, fastening his thrust. He is so closed, all this promise is knocking him over the edge as he is eager to cum inside of her. “You’re mine.”

Y/n tightens her arms and legs around him, chanting, “yes! Want your baby!” Her tummy coils, tightening and her body trembles in release, cumming around his cock.

Rin pressed Y/n against the tile walls, hooking his arms behind her knees and hoisting her weight so he could pound into her pussy with the purpose to breed.

Her overstimulated pussy fluttered around his cock until he painted her womb with his cum.

Walking over to the seat built into his shower, he sits down, keeping Y/n close as she straddles his lap. They catch their breaths, gazing tiredly yet lovingly into each other’s eyes.

Y/n was about to lift herself off of him when he stopped her, “don’t, not yet.”

She relaxed around him, holding onto his shoulders. “You’re serious about baby-making?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “It sounded like in the heat of the moment talk but I’m dead serious. Were you not serious?”

Y/n threaded her fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back. “Aside from you telling me you love me and want to be with me, I want nothing more than to have your baby.” She lifts herself off, letting his flaccid cock fall limp. “But before that, let us focus on just the two of us for now.” She pressed her lips against his, “take me out on a proper date first.”

Rin grins against her lips, “a little out of order but yes, anything you want.”

. . .

E/n: When I'm writing and releasing my dirty imagination, Rin is the only one I can see getting away with this shit. He can talk about breeding any time and I'll be like... "yes daddy." Please don't be like me. Make good choices. Lol. I'm finishing up on Lord Ushijima... I'll share it soon.

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[tiredfox64]

Can you write about a female reader that is being bullied by other clan members because she's not considered pretty and doesn't have a nice body and tease her the Smoke would never have feelings for her, so the reader becomes depressed and volunteers to go on a dangerous mission thinking she won't come back only for Tomas to step in and go with her so he can be closer to her?

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

Prior notes: I’ve been taking some fat naps. It’s not important but y’all know now

Pairing: Tomas x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: That foundation was 45 dollars put your head up!

Why are they so mean to you? What could you have done to deserve their ire?

You thought the Shirai Ryu would be a more accepting and safe environment. It’s not the clan itself, it’s the people in it. A mix of different people with different personalities. Yet they treat you like an outsider. A freak even. Especially the women.

They saw how you would look at Tomas. Such love and affection in your eyes when you got a glimpse of him. He’s so nice and caring while also being incredibly skilled and strong. How could you not fall for that face? Or even that voice. Hearing his voice made you feel warm every time. When you heard his cute chuckle it made you feel good about whatever you said.

Those nasty girls put you down the moment they realized you liked Tomas. First it was your face. Somehow they would see acne scars that, according to them, made you look messed up. They weren’t even that bad, barely noticeable. But after that you noticed them much more. Freckles, moles, dimples, no matter the unique feature on your face they would say it looked unnatural and ask ‘who were you trying to fool’.

Their comments about your body were the worst. It fluctuated between people. Some said you look like you were starving yourself. Some said you look like you were eating for the whole clan. They treated body hair as if it were unnatural as well. There was nothing to be happy about when it came to a happy trail according to them. And stretch marks? Apparently nobody has those. Not on their chest, their stomach, or their thighs. What a lie. A bunch of lying, hypocritical bitches.

What hurt the most was when they told you that Tomas would never like you. That all those conversations where you two would laugh were all smoke and mirrors. He was only doing it to keep the peace and not seem like the bad guy for rejecting the loser of the clan. He would only find them attractive because they were better. Better looking, better skilled, better overall. You are just the background character getting in the way of what was supposed to happen. The background character doesn’t get with the hot guy.

You were hurt, you won’t deny that. You always thought you were beautiful no matter what. But they all made you think you were ugly, a beast. You didn’t actually have a chance with Tomas. You were just bothering him this whole time.

So you pulled away from him, avoiding any sort of contact with him. You even tried your best not to be seen by him. That depression hit hard for you. You felt so alone and isolated from everyone else. There was no other home to go back to. You’re stuck in this hell hole. A hell hole where you won’t find love and you will be shamed for anything and everything about you.

There is only one way to leave and that’s to take the dangerous mission. The mission that no one wants to take because they fear they will never return. That’s what you want. If you’re going to leave you rather leave by the way of death. Death by choice, leave with honor.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You were wrong. Everybody was wrong. No one had the right to assume Tomas’ feelings and desires.

He was disappointed that he wasn’t seeing you much anymore. It felt you just got up and disappeared. He couldn’t even get a glimpse of you anywhere. Not even during training or walking around the temple. When he would ask other clan members some would agree that they haven’t seen you either or some said they just saw you but only for a moment. He got really suspicious when those same girls who were bullying you would wave the topic away as if there were other important matters at hand. Tomas wouldn’t give them the time of day. He would walk off with a pout, sad that he hasn’t heard your sweet voice in so long. Maybe Kuai Liang would know.

When Tomas asked his brother whatever happened to you he told him that nothing happened to you, you’re just preparing for a big mission. Of course he asked what kind of mission. Kuai Liang hesitated, knowing his answer would enrage Tomas. He admitted he was sending you on a high risk mission. A mission that involves you getting close to the Lin Kuei. He was right to think Tomas would explode because he did.

“How could you send her out there?! Do you know how dangerous that is? She could get killed!” Tomas protested.

“She volunteered, I did not force her hand. She was the only one willing to do this.”

Kuai Liang believed you were doing this out of braveness and commitment. You hid your true intentions well. He was clueless to the situation between you and Tomas and how you have been avoiding him. Tomas could sense the bs however. This was not like you. Not that you weren’t brave but who in their right mind would willingly go into something like this on their own. That’s a suicide mission at that point. Tomas couldn’t and wouldn’t let you do that!

“Then I will go with her as well! We can’t send her out there on her own.” He volunteered to go with you.

Kuai Liang was very hesitant. Even just letting you go was a hard choice for him to make. But they needed the info on the Lin Kuei. He will admit it was a wrong choice but it might not be bad if Tomas goes with you as well. He nodded before speaking.

“Go get ready now. She will be leaving soon.”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You had all your equipment ready. Your weapons were sharpened and your mind set on something. Try your best to complete the mission. And if things fail and you are on death’s door, accept it. Either way you will leave or come back with honor. You took a deep breath and with a big step you-

“You’re not going by yourself.” You heard Tomas’ voice.

He grabbed onto your hand to prevent you from going. He pulled you back so you were right next to him. You were shocked to see him here. You didn’t understand why he was stopping you. He looked like he was preparing for a mission too. Before you could ask what he was doing he spoke up again.

“Why would you think it was a good idea to go alone? I know you’re brave but this is way too risky to do by yourself. You should have asked me to come,” he sighed before looking forward, “Well, we are already prepared. We should get a move on.”

This was shocking to you. Not only did Tomas willingly find you but now he was holding onto your hand. He held it tight like he was worried you would run off and leave his side.

He was. You were running away from him all this time he can’t let you go. He’s been wanting to talk to you for so long. Get close to you and find some sort of excuse to touch you. But you’ve not just been avoiding him, but everyone in general, like they were the plague. He doesn’t even care if he gets an explanation he just wants to talk to you again.

“You look very pretty today. I mean you look pretty every day but I thought you should know you look pretty, heh.” Tomas struggled a little but he hoped you got the point.

You didn’t, not because you were ignorant or missing signs you just didn’t believe him. Those girls really messed with your head and made you think everything he says to you is a lie. He sounded convincing yet your mind just wouldn’t accept it. You were afraid of being hurt even more. If you did die you don’t want to die with anymore of a broken heart.

Tomas’ heart aches when he didn’t get a response from you. You even turned your head away from him. He almost thought he was bothering you. He would have let your hand go but he was more afraid of losing you than bothering you. So he kept holding on and trying to talk to you.

“Did you sharpen your weapons? You do it so good. I might need you to sharpen my karambit if you don’t mind.”

Still nothing from you. You were hurting more than you were before. You wanted to talk but your mind was at war with your heart. You held your tears in but they threatened to burst out of you.

Tomas saw right through you. He saw that you are struggling but with what he doesn’t know. You’re more reclusive. Even your clothes spoke that. You looked like you were trying to hide your body more and even your face. You never wore a mask before. Why were you hiding all that beauty from him?

“I’ve missed talking to you. It was nice to have a break in my day where I could talk to someone about anything other than the clan. I’m sorry if I did something to scare you away. I don’t like doing that to people I care about.” He spoke softly to you as if to make you understand how much he cares.

You couldn’t. You just couldn’t.

Your heart was hurting and so was his. He just wants to be close with you again. If this is all he can get for now so be it. He wishes it was more, much more than this. You wished you could believe him again. See him as a man who could love you. You wished you could look at yourself and love who you are. You do and you hate that you let those pricks alter your belief.

In moments of weakness like this it gives others the perfect opportunity to strike. And that they did. As your two were having this mission to gain more info on the Lin Kuei, they too had orders to gain more info on the Shirai Ryu. There were more of them and they ambushed you both.

Tomas let go of your hand and took out his karambit to defend you both. This was a shock to your system and you took too long to get your kunai out. You defended yourself to the best of your abilities. Kicking and striking whenever you could. It wasn’t enough and they knocked you down. In that moment you realized that you didn’t want to die. You couldn’t tell if you didn’t want to die in an ambush or didn’t want to die in general. You were horrified and your eyes expressed that greatly to the assassins. You put your arms up to defend yourself one more time.

All you heard after was Tomas yelling ‘no’ before seeing a bunch of smoke burst in front of you. A bunch of slashing and grunts could be heard but you couldn’t see anything. When the smoke cleared all you saw was Tomas standing in front of you with all the assassins dead on the ground. There was about ten of them and he took them down in seconds. He helped you up before holding your face to check for any injuries.

“Oh god, are you hurt? Did they injure you in any way. Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled your mask down so you could breathe better.

He asked if you were okay. You knew he meant physically but you needed to hear it mentally. Those tears that have been building up this whole time slipped out slowly. He realized that there was more to this than he had imagined. He brought you into a tight hug as one of his hands went into your hair and the other rubbed your back. He whispered to you that it will all be okay and that he doesn’t want you being alone in this.

You missed him so much. You missed his touch even if it was minimal before. You can’t stand being away from him again. It doesn’t matter what those girls say you have as much right to be with him as anyone else does. No matter what you actually are you know you love him. You don’t want to die anymore. It won’t help your soul. He doesn’t want you dying either. He missed you. He needs you. You’re so special to him not even for your beauty but your personality. He would never want a girl who would drive someone to their death. That’s dishonorable and cruel.

“Come on, let’s go back. I don’t want you getting hurt anymore.” He whispered as he took your hands again.

Before you could protest by saying the mission won’t be fulfilled an opportunity opened. There was one Lin Kuei assassin left alive. Tomas was about to end his life before he begged for mercy. He said he will tell them everything but just let him live. Looks like you two didn’t have to go far for this solution.

Tomas dragged the assassin back while keeping you close. When you two returned Tomas gave the captured assassin over to Kuai Liang. He was surprised but was happy that no one got hurt in the end. And seeing that the person was willing to talk that means the mission was accomplished. He thanks you both and told you both to rest up.

Never once did Tomas let go of your hand. He wanted you close and safe even if you guys were back in the temple. Even if you don’t tell him immediately what was wrong before he was glad that some progress was made. You were looking at him again with that softness he loves.

“Let’s get you comfortable, alright? Then after that we could talk just like we used to.” He said as he walked you to your room.

You nodded and for once in a while you smiled again. You felt that warmth in your body. Whatever those girls said before was a lie. You can see that for yourself. Everything they said was a lie.

The truth is that you love Tomas and he loves you. There is nothing fake about this. And there will never be even if those jealous idiots try to say otherwise.

You are beautiful and loved. Don’t forget that.

After notes: 🍊…🦊 WHY IS MY BOLD AND BRASH PAINTING ON THE FLOOR? WHO WAS BOUNCING OFF THESE WALLS? ARE YOU EATING MY WORK AGAIN? I think I’ve manifested foxes in my town. They don’t come here and they shouldn’t. Next thing ya know the deers and vultures will come back. I don’t want to square up with a hawk again…I never did that. Adiós!

[iridiss]

I think because Aphmau is a self-insert character, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what her personality is, because her personality is just…Jess’s personality. If a little different. Which makes it hard for me to get into Aphmau’s head, to see exactly how she works, what makes her tick—it doesn’t come naturally to me at all, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I wasn’t alone in that regard

Now that I’m finally working on my MCD rewrite, I really want to make sure I get Aphmau’s personality right, especially since she’s literally the protagonist character and likely the most common POV I’ll be using. I want to find a way to copy how watching her POV in-game felt, and make it so that it feels the same when I’m writing the fic. Lately, it hasn’t been feeling the same at all, and that’s mostly intentional, since I want her to evolve into the “unintentionally badass” woman that she is in the canon series. I want her to start off as kind of bright-eyed and naive, similar to Mystreet!Aphmau, as a newcomer to the world whose never seen a lick of war and violence in her life. Mainly because I know she’s going to be exposed to all of that later and fundamentally changed by it. But as I’m studying canon MCD Aphmau and trying to break down everything she does, how she thinks, the choices she makes and the patterns therein that define her, what choices she doesn’t make and what that says about her as a person… I think I have already strayed too far from the original in places.

Additionally, though Aphmau was still significantly emotionally affected by every little heinous thing that happened to her and her people, throughout season 1 she didn’t experience any sudden shift in who she was as a person. I’ve yet to finish rewatching season 2, so I could be wrong, but to me, it more seems like she held herself together and stayed largely the same person. But she was being slowly chipped away emotionally by everything that got added to the pile. From Brendan getting shot to Aaron’s death, it’s like there’s a million different little nicks and cuts in her mental health and psyche that have simply built up over time. Some of those scars are larger than others, like the 15 year timeskip and losing Aaron/Garroth/Laurance, but they all weigh on her psyche and make her progressively more anxious, more careful, more…traumatized? She’s traumatized and she’s not. I’d like to at least headcanon her as traumatized, probably severely by season 3. I’d like to think she’s a woman with the whole entire world on her shoulders and a million ghosts haunting her wherever she goes, and all of this leads to a great deal of stress and anxiety in her day-to-day life that she’s just kinda… Living With. She muscles through it. She keeps going. There are even moments I’m noticing in canon where she doesn’t allow herself to fully dwell on her grief and stress, saying it’s “selfish” to let them consume her, and then moving on to check on literally everyone else in the village and make sure they’re okay first.

Aphmau is a character that’s hard to understand in the broad strokes, like how you can see Laurance’s broad strokes of “Casanova” and “fiercely loyal” and “in love with Aphmau” and make a pretty easy surface mold of what he’s like. It’s like every other character has at least one or two giant, broad strokes of paint on the wall that distinguish them as unique.

Garroth is a gentleman, Kiki loves her animals and can be stubbornly gullible. Donna is sassy, Dale is an alcoholic, Katelyn is fierce, Travis is playful and flirtatious, Aaron is brooding and guarded, Logan has a stick up his ass, so on and so forth. But they all have really easy to find smaller pieces that you can find and study as well. MCD!Katelyn is much more calm and reserved and proper than her Mystreet counterpart, and on occasion waxes philosophical and drinks tea. Kiki has always wanted to be a mother. Brendan is a horse girl. Garroth is terrible at being ~romantically forward~ like Laurance is, and instead he gets flustered and stuttery and shy and struggles to talk about his feelings with others. Laurance is gentle and caring and will tenderly take care of you and nurse you back to health with a mature, gentle warmth that puts his cocky Casanova personality aside, still flirting and teasing every now and then, but only for the purpose of cracking a joke that would make you smile. And then he reminds you right after how fondly he loves you and how he will never, not ever, leave your side.

Laurance grew up not knowing how to talk to girls, and Sasha was the only female friend he could actually speak to and connect with. Garroth checks on Aphmau in the mornings, asking how she slept and reporting back to her on all the duties she has to tend to for the day. Dale is a brilliant accountant, and that’s his calling in life. Zoey used to regularly prepare tea for Aphmau at night to help her sleep. Logan helped Zoey raise Levin and Malachi during the 15 year timeskip and “secretly” very much loves children. You can find all the little kernels of character and personality and heart in all of them.

But for MCD!Aphmau, it’s like she has one single broad stroke. “Helps others, kind, caring.” And everything else is invisible to me. Mystreet!Aphmau might have a second broad stroke, of “silly and childish and whimsical,” a stroke that MCD!Aphmau has much less of. It’s still there, she still teases and cracks dumb jokes on occasion, but it’s dwarfed in comparison by MCD’s more serious, mature tone and the sheer emotional weight of everything she keeps going through. It’s hard to be silly and have stupid fun when you’re fighting for your life, so in a way, MCD!Aphmau had to grow up in a way that Mystreet!Aphmau never had to. Mystreet!Aphmau’s worst problem (before emerald secret) is “oh no! which cute boy am I gonna date?! Gene is so mean to me in highschool!! Gawd, I wish my mom would let me bring boys home without making it weird, jeez.” She gets to keep her innocence. She doesn’t have to grow up and face the brutality of killers and monsters and the cruelty of the gods, and even after When Angels Fall, I don’t see her heavily maturing and growing as serious as MCD!Aphmau already is on main.

So if MCD!Aphmau has one single broad stroke that, for a protagonist, is actually vague as hell to work with, then maybe she’s a character who is revealed by all the little things that slip through the cracks. Maybe I can paint a picture of what she’s truly, really like (not what I want her to be like) by looking at all the little things, and then working inwards from there,,,

I know she’s at the very least a good person. A very good person. Better than canon Garroth, who has far too many asshole tendencies for my liking after the whole Incel Hell Irene Dimension fiasco (also why the FUCK is he racist—) Better than canon Laurance, better than most people honestly. Which is kind of the point, as an Irene. She’s supposed to be inherently a good, pure-hearted soul, whose destiny and sole calling in life is to help everyone around her. She seems to display a great fear and distress over violence and war. She’s always anxious and freaking the fuck out when she’s in combat (during S1), and building up to the Phoenix War, she was absolutely mortified by the idea of going to war, and yet that distress NEVER boiled over into cowardice. She always chose what was right and stuck to it, stubbornly. Even when faced with the worst of dilemmas, she refuses to succumb to her fear and run away, or pick the easy (and scummy) way out. She cares a great deal about the greater good, even if it comes at a devastating cost to achieve, and by god, she’ll achieve it. When presented with the option of fight or flight, she NEVER picks flight. So she’s brave? Has a strong natural sense of justice? Would she ever make cruel sacrifices, if it was for a greater good? I think I at least know that if I presented her with the option of “kill Garroth and Laurance, or save the entire world,” she would refuse the dilemma entirely and go to EXTREME lengths to forge a third option where she gets to keep the world AND her boys, and everyone comes out unharmed. (And in my mind, this is what distinguishes her from the old Irene…)

She is a herald for peace, above anything else. When Scaleswind destroyed her home as an act of violent rage, she didn’t seek revenge or even allow herself to feel vitriol or resentment for the man that attacked her people. Instead, she (cautiously and hesitantly) accepted his pleas for forgiveness if it meant she could have peace for Phoenix Drop. She held him accountable for his crimes, yes, but she forgave him, trusted him with the Phoenix Drop Alliance, and even trusted him with her people. All the while reiterating to him that she is an agent working for peace, and he needs to get on her level if he wants her forgiveness. She even offers care and aid to all of the rotten O’khasis knights that still swear their fealty to Zane. She brings them to court for their crimes, but she also offers them her care and a place to stay if they need it. She believes in justice, but not cruel retribution. The moral high ground isn’t a weapon she uses to bludgeon others with. She draws her strength by pulling others up with her. Even putting her trust in those unworthy of it at times, but that then inspires them to make better choices and pledge themselves to her cause. Even if you were a horrible, terrible person, she refuses to be downright cruel. It’s very rare to see her anger get the best of her (not that I don’t doubt that has happened at least once or twice in the series, I’m just saying it’s not her go-to choice when resolving any conflict). She will always give people the benefit of the doubt.

I know she struggles with sleeping problems, mainly due to her stress. She did for most of the latter quarter of S1 and when I skipped ahead and watched a few snippets of S2, she was STILL bringing up how poorly she slept last night, so like. You could make a case that she has insomnia. She could have insomnia. And PTSD but that’s a given

She finds babies absolutely adorable and has strong maternal instincts. (a connection between this and her great care for Phoenix Drop as a whole could possibly be strung… I don’t think “maternal instincts” is at all why she helps PD though. I think she just does that…because…you should. Because it’s the right thing to do. Obviously. If given the choice to be kind and help someone, she will always pick that choice, because,,,she just does)

you could make an argument that she has dyslexia. if you made a drinking game out of every time she flubbed reading the lines on the screen you would keel over and die by episode 15 I think.

you could make an argument that she needs glasses because Jess wears glasses for the first little while of S1 before she seems to have switched to contacts for the rest of the aphverse

She loves animals and has more animals than she has children

She seems very slow to develop romantic feelings for anyone. I think she only really started to develop little bits of romantic feelings for Garroth come late S1, and for Laurance probably like. around episode 95ish if you’re pushing it early, but honestly she probably only developed feelings for him after the entirety of season 1. after Laurance and her had already become very close and intimate on a platonic level. And any of his flirtatious advances prior to that she CONSISTENTLY responded to with flat out rejection, disgust, exasperation and annoyance with zero romance in sight. meanwhile she’s been very affectionate with Zoey from the beginning and is much more sweet and domestic with her than any of the boys, so like. I can definitely see where all the aroace spectrum aphmau headcanons in the fandom are coming from now and I wouldn’t be surprised if she was some form of demiromantic as well, but that’s straying out of canon aphmau territory and into headcanon land

Her worst fear, confirmed by Malachi, is seeing the entire village be burned to the ground with everyone she loves inside. Seeing Garroth and Laurance and every single villager murdered before she can do anything to stop it. She’s scared of losing them (and wow guess exactly what ends up happening… Garroth gets lost in the Irene dimension…Laurance becomes a cold and cruel shadow knight and she loses him to the nether… Aaron dies and becomes the shadow lord… girlie can just not win. and I’d like to explore more of the deep emotional impact that could’ve had on her—your worst fear is losing everyone you loved, seeing them get torn out of your hands brutally and violently, and..that happens. that happens to her anyway. to all of her boys, individually. there’s no way that’s not traumatic and emotional as hell for her) maybe you could even play into the idea that she has abandonment issues…

Every now and then she shows a few signs of toxic positivity and emotional repression. “Smile and be happy, focus on the work that’s important right now instead of completely and utterly crumbling under the weight of my grief and trauma” type shit. I feel like I can’t help but notice a running pattern that she keeps being presented with dialogue options that are emotionally vulnerable and intimate in some way, usually ones that progress her relationships with others (both romantically and platonically) and express a great deal of care or feeling…and then there’s the exposition dump dialogue option that continues her constant search for information that furthers the plot, and she often chooses that instead. Like for example, in one dialogue option with Aaron, she doesn’t say, “I really care about you, please, can’t you trust me?” Instead, she chooses to say, “What will you do?” Which is much more business talk as opposed to spilling her heart out to people. She seems to apologize for herself whenever she expresses a heightened amount of emotion, especially if it’s sadness or grief or anger, and again, I’d like to point to her taking 90+ fucking episodes to allow herself to feel any sort of intimacy with Laurance, the very man who has been constantly showering her with affection, and not just the dumb flirty stuff!! But like deep, sincere proclamations of “you matter to me,” and “I’ll never leave your side” and “you are my world, aphmau”!!! Bro I would have MELTED into his arms 70 fucking episodes ago if I met a man that talked to me like he does!! But she doesn’t!! SHE KEEPS HIM AT ARMS LENGTH!! THATS NOT NORMAL!!! Especially when EVERY OTHER character in the cast keeps falling in love at first sight. (so intimacy issues? trust issues? probably not trust issues. fear? too much on her mind? demiromantic ?? or probably a mix of all of the above + a dash of headcanon for the sexuality part)

And it’s so fascinating to see what she could say, but doesn’t. And sometimes you’ll even see her hesitate over the other, more intimate dialogue options, and then decide otherwise. It’s utterly fascinating to think that a character hugely defined by her heart might struggle with vulnerability.

She also hesitates over funny options a lot but decides against them because the serious, emotionally mature options are more appropriate and polite for the situation at hand lol. Laurance is a frequent exception to this rule, she will tease him no matter how serious their conversation is lmao (Laurance brings out her more forgotten whimsical side…?)

So on and so forth while I continue my binge rewatch of the entire series and collect more. So far, she seems to be overall: Kind. Gentle. Soft, warm, friendly, forgiving, understanding, merciful, patient. Playful and whimsical, though that’s become more forgotten with time and hardship. Serious, very emotionally mature, very much a source of wisdom among her peers. Inherently strong sense of justice, will always fight for the right thing. Brave and persistent. Refuses to ever back down from a challenge. Probably at least a little emotionally avoidant and I would not be surprised if she struggled with a particularly harsh inner critic. Optimistic. Never lets go of her heart, led by her heart much more than her brain, though that isn’t to say she isn’t smart, she’s not an idiot. Loves animals. Natural leader. Maternal. Insomniac. Probably neurodivergent, possibly aroace, possibly dyslexic, most likely needs glasses. Traumatized, very much so. Very stressed and anxious (please god someone give her a break). Carries the weight of the world on her shoulders but refuses to let herself crumble, even if she is exhausted and worn down and at her limit. you also cannot look at Zoey and Aphmau’s daily interactions and tell me there isn’t at least a little bit of sapphicism going on there. they love each other so much <3 and if not, she is a single mother going through literal actual hell and hanging on by a string but through the force of necessity and probably at least a little bit of toxic positivity and emotional avoidance she will persevere whether she wants to or not

and I will continue to learn more as we go along 👍

[youneedsomeprompts]

hi!! i’ve just started writing a fic and it’s going well (a friends to lovers) but i’m having trouble with the transition part of the story. the two have already confessed, but i don’t want them rushing into anything bc it just wouldn’t make sense. do you have any tips on how to ease them from just being friends to dating? i don’t want it to be super quick but i also don’t want to drag it on forever. thank you again!!💗

Points you could include to ease your characters from the friend phase into the dating phase:

trying to be extremely nice to the other because they're still unsure which extent of affection is "right" and feels "appropriate" for their relationship

getting used to sharing what used to be something they had/kept just to themselves (are there maybe certain parts they're struggling with?)

learning more intimate things/details about the other that maybe surprise them

having awkward moments when doing "couple things" they have never done before together (laughing about it together afterwards)

noticing that certain dynamics that their friendship used to have changed for new dynamics that came with dating. maybe they're missing what had been. maybe they're trying to get that back (they would probably have to mention it to the other. are they comfortable with that? do they feel the same way?) maybe they're learning to like the new version of their relationship

being unsure whether the other expects "more" from them now that they are dating

trying very hard to be good enough for the other but maybe this gets uncomfortable for the other as well because they've always been enough (maybe it's time for a talk about expectations)

being super excited/giddy whenever they see each other, maybe that means they need some time alone to calm down and relax again

trying things together and learning that they don't like them. so, they're trying something else

slowly being introduced to the other's friends and family as their new s/o (maybe feeling awkward and being happy when everyone knows it and becomes normal about it)

being happiest when being with the other just fills them with serenity, and they want that all the time, preferring it to the ecstatic and at times nauseating excitement of being freshly infatuated

Every relationship is different. Every couple goes through different things that lead them to a familiar and casual state of dating. But the list above contains a few things a fresh couple might experience in their first time together as a couple. Maybe some of these help you with your story.

In order to achieve this gradual progress from friends to dating to lovers, I would recommend including a few points similar to the ones above and showing how these single things bring them a bit closer together afterwards. With everything they experience as a couple, they create a new part/dimension of their identity as a couple. Show the smaller and bigger effects these shared new experiences have on their relationship. One step at a time (as slowly or quickly as you like), you can bring your couple closer together.

Hope this helps! <3

[malenjoyer]

Hi!

I know right now may not be the best time to say this, but I'm kind of still processing how fast this all happened. As someone who likes to look over artists' past work esp my fav works daily and just suddenly noticed that they're almost all gone: twitter, instagram, and tumblr. It frustrates me that not only has this situation affected you, but how it really takes one selfish and inconsiderate person to ruin everything for others. I truly hope that you can heal from this and maybe we might see those pictures again, but this is just soo much to process. Just love and support for you <33333 🥹🫶😭🫶🫶🫶🫶

Hi. I’ve privated a lot of my work on tumblr and Instagram, so they’re not gone forever. I still have a lot of positive memories with them so I didn’t want to delete them. I wanted to keep all the nice comments and support I’ve gotten over these past few years.. I might unarchive them sometime in the future when I’m more okay with it being looked at. Twitter, I had no choice but to delete it, especially ones with dick, jason, and Peter Parker. My brain freaked out a little bit from seeing evidence of the person saving my art and making fake clip files with them. Logically, I am aware deleting my old art in response is stupid.

But it wasn’t limited to just comic art, it was other interests I had too which was really uncomfortable that someone would go to the extent of pretending they like other stuff I liked. They would also paraphrase tweets I’ve made about my personal life onto their own twitter. That just isn’t okay.

Every interest I’ve ever fallen in love with meant a lot to me. This is probably not publicly known information since I’m relatively private, as a depressed autistic person, a lot of who I am is what I end up liking. My friends and relatives describe me as dressing up like a cartoon character, because everything I like is so visibly obvious. I become utterly consumed in my favorite things. Suddenly, it feels like all of my control was taken away from me. My interests collected over the years were no longer just mine, it was someone else’s because they decided to lie and it was easier to continue lying. I don’t know how much was saved. There was a screenshot of a message with over 8+ of my art works sent excluding the fake files.

I don’t have control over it. The impersonation of my identity and my life experiences.

But I do have control over who gets to see what I put out in the future. I could probably write this better but I’ve rewritten a lot of things within these two days. Rewritten posts over and over so it sounds less aggressive, less hurt, less like I am trying to call for a witch hunt and more just taking extra precautions. I don’t think I have the energy to rewrite this to seem less vulnerable/pathetic.

I want to apologize to everyone who hoped I’d keep my past art public. I know how it feels. I’ve been fans of artists who just blew up their account one day and never came back. I only privated them on tumblr and Instagram. That’s all I can do. Honestly, I’m hoping a part of my brain just forgets some of this happened since depression does come with memory loss.. This post is now too long.. but I hope it gives some insight for what’s happening on my side of the brain. I appreciate all the support so far.

If you see me acting a little weird on twitter, I’m just trying to regain a sense of control over my identity.

[behindthesoul]

Shang Tsung request. This is an idea I did in a MK roleplay. Reader is Kitana and Mileenas younger sister. She accompanies Mileena everytime she gets a Serum from Tsung. Kinda a forbidden love story since he is only doing that to gain the empress favor c: You can make it either fluff or angst at the end

Forgotten Child - Ch. 1

Shang Tsung x Reader

Masterlist || Next Part

Characters - Shang Tsung, you, Sindel, Mileena

Summary - As Sindel’s forgotten child, no one noticed how the snake wrapped his way around your heart.

Word Count - 1150

Warnings - gender neutral, implied smut, no one cares about reader, everyone’s probably OOC, Shang doesn’t know if he loves you or not.

A/N - my friend you do not know what you have created

It was tough being Sindel’s youngest child. A majority of the spotlight was on the eldest, Mileena. After all, she’s heir to the throne. A smaller light was shone on your other sister, Kitana, by her supporters who felt she was more deserving of the throne than Mileena. But you? You were forced to find comfort in your sisters’ shadows. Each time you tried to claw your way out and carve your own path, your royal duties forced you back in.

To the realm of Outworld, you were Sindel’s other child. Not important to anyone.

To Shang Tsung, you were everything. He first laid eyes on you when he snuck his way into the palace grounds. Words could not describe just how ethereal you looked. He overheard you talking to a few servants; your voice was meek, a stark contrast to the confident voices your family possessed. Shang needed more of it, so he introduced himself.

It was a perfect idea - not only could he gain the empress’ trust by managing Mileena’s Tarkat, he could also gain the trust of her child by courting them. Shang lied as easily as he breathed. He knew it wouldn’t be difficult to make you fall in love.

And you did. You attended every one of Mileena’s serum sessions. Her Tarkat diagnosis was devastating to your entire family, you saw how it destroyed the bodies of its victims; you couldn’t bear to see her suffer under the same fate. Though, you couldn’t lie and say you attended these sessions only to support her. Each week you saw Shang, you grew more and more fond of him.

You and Mileena walk the hallway to Shang Tsung’s laboratory, hand in hand. Her hand is clammy and it makes you want to pull away. Your thumb rubs circles on the back of her hand, trying to soothe her. Mileena never tried to put a brave face on for you, you know how terrified she is at the idea of succumbing to this illness.

“Princess,” Shang says, as he hears the two of you approach. “Not a minute too soon. Please, lay down and we will start.”

You walk Mileena over to the table and help her lay down. You brush stray hair from her face in another attempt to comfort her. The focus on Mileena is interrupted by Shang.

“I would appreciate an extra hand…” he trails off, and you rush over to him before he gets another chance to speak, missing how Mileena’s eyebrow quirks in curiosity. As soon as he sees you’re out of her sight, Shang wraps his hand around your waist and pulls you in for a quick kiss.

“My, how I’ve missed you.”

You stifle a laugh, as to not alert Mileena. “We were together last night, do you not remember?” You take a quick glance around the laboratory, but you’re interrupted by your lover taking your chin in his hand, making you look at him.

“A moment’s break from your gaze is an eternity past,” he hums. Shang walks toward Mileena, serum in hand. You notice how you didn’t even help him at all.

It really was no surprise when the two of you became official. But you were caught off guard when your mother found out.

“You asked to see me, mother?’ You ask, immediately feeling the tension when you walk into her bedroom. Sindel’s eyes pierce into your body, but your body protects itself by averting her gaze.

“I have eyes, you know.”

“Excuse me? I don’t understand.” Your chest tightens, not knowing where she’s getting at.

“Your relationship with the sorcerer. I don’t know why you thought it wise to court him.” She sees that you are about to speak, so she continues before you get the chance. “You doom your sister to death by distracting Shang Tsung. You will end your relationship immediately.”

You shake your head, slightly angry. “I am a distraction to no one! My courtship does not put my sister in harm’s way. Should it, I’d strike Shang Tsung down where he stands.”

Sindel walks closer to you while crossing her arms. “This is not a conversation open to argument. You will listen to your Empress, and you will not risk your sister’s life.” You want to roll your eyes at her, but you restrain yourself. It would only make this conversation worse for you.

“Mother, can’t you see that I am happy? Just once I wish you’d think about my happiness and not Mileena’s! My life is important too.”

“But your life is not the one of Outworld’s future leader. You will put her needs first.”

You can feel your heart breaking with her response. Tears start to fall as you walk out of her room. Sindel calls after you, but you don’t stop moving. Your legs unconsciously carry you to the place that comforts you the most: the palace gardens.

To your surprise, Shang Tsung is there. It’s as if he was waiting for you. He looks over at you as he hears your footsteps, and he makes his way over to you. He sees the sad look on your face and offers you his hand. The two of you slowly walk around the garden. It’s dark; the night brings a chill, drying the tears that stain your face. Shang is silent, but his hand holding yours says everything you need to hear. You look into his soft eyes, he wants to speak, but he holds back and allows you to make the first move.

“Not once in my life have I truly felt my mother’s love for me,” you choke out. “Not once have I been her priority.”

Your hands shake and your heart feels like it’s about to beat out its chest. “Does my age mean I am irrelevant?” You sob harder as Shang pulls you in for a hug, squeezing you tight. He frowns in anger.

“You, more than anyone, deserve to have the realms bow at your feet,” he mutters. “Not many are wise enough to admire and worship your beauty. Trust that I am here, darling, and that I know your worth.”

You look at him, eyes puffy and shoulders slumped - still beautiful in his eyes. Your feelings for him almost hurt, and you pray he cares for you just as much. Unable to find the right words, you kiss him. It’s not enough, he needs to know how much you burn for him.

So you kiss him again, noting how he softly sighs as your hand travels up his thigh. He pulls away and unties your robes; he admires the shine of your skin.

“I love you, more than anything,” you announce, “more than anyone.” You giggle when he smirks at your words. That’s all he needed to hear.

You’re so drunk in love that you ignore how he’s never told you he loved you, too.

[thelightsandtheroses]

Two: there goes the fear again

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: When Joel finds you on your self-assigned insomnia bench one night, it sparks an unexpected friendship that quickly develops into more. Finding peace in the middle of an apocalypse always seemed impossible, but being with Joel feels natural, like a missing piece has fallen into place at last. When a ghost from your past threatens to destroy the peace you’ve found in Jackson, everything will change.

Word Count – 4.3k Chapter Warnings - 18+ blog minors DNI, description of a nightmare, insomnia, mentions of Salt Lake City, reader had a backstory and her age is not specified but an age range is lightly implied in this chapter, secondary characters and ocs, reader is a parent. Notes: Thank you so much for the kind feedback and comments so far - I’ve been honestly quite blown away by it all. As it's Joel's birthday today, I wanted to push myself to get this chapter out. So happy birthday Joel, sorry about the outbreak? 😂 Chapter title is from There Goes the Fear Again by Doves.

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The memories come back to you in flashes, framed with distorted static like an old VHS. They usually start in the years Before, nostalgia tinged memories that lull you into a false sense of security that tonight may not be so bad.

Sometimes you welcome it, the reminder of your family and life before. It was normal, it was filled with love and normality and peace. You had problems, like anyone else, but schoolyard bullies, your roommate and class assignments seem so trivial compared to what the world is now.

You’re by the beach, listening to the soothing rhythm of the waves, watching Sean surf as you pretend to study, scrunch your toes in the sand. You can feel the heat of the sun of your skin, the way you scrunch your toes in the sand and want to soak in every moment of this summer. You daydream of what’s going to happen once you start college. Will Sean still be your best friend as your paths start to digress? Will anyone even like you there?

You were still agonising about those trivialities on the night that the world ended right in front of you. In hindsight, you’ll notice the signs in front of you that day that something was coming, something was wrong. It was just a normal day though. The last one. You remember it all. So much loss, so many mistakes, so much fear. The memory of your family; of the last conversations you had with them, of how unsatisfactory that was.

Then it’s you and Sean and his little sister, Isabella, and you’ve got to find a new path. College feels like lifetime ago now.

It’s here the replay of your past becomes distorted; all black and white static and poorly compiled edits after that, time jumps and skips and sequences completely out of order. 

You’re in the woods and there’s blood stains on your clothes and you’re running and it’s never going to be far enough, it’s never going to leave you. It doesn’t matter how far you run; it’s buried under your skin now.

And then your mind goes to that place. To every nightmarish thought and the memories you avoid. It’s too much.

The blood. The flames. The shame.

It’s the fact you’ve bought a child into a world where monsters are real and you don’t know if you can keep them safe.

More memories.

Then it’s the fear; the unspoken terror that one day soon you’ll lose everyone, that you’ll just watch it unfold in from you. That you’ll be the only one left, doomed to loneliness and emptiness. That you’ll watch as everyone you love is taken from you; by illness, or violence, or such an innocuous looking fungus.

You’ll be left all alone and then they’ll find you.

Tendrils of anxiety twist around your body, constricting with each thought, each memory, each possible future, until you feel like you’re suffocating and your heart is racing and surely you can’t wake up from this.

It’s not real.

It’s not real.

It’s not real.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Joel asks placidly as you walk over to the bench, your rucksack casually slung over one shoulder. It’s clear that he’s been here for a while already but he’s left one side clear and ready for you.

“Just here for the view,” you say calmly, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you try and push away the lingering unease from your sleep.

“Aren’t we all?”

You sit next to him, playing your bag by the edge of your feet.

It’s been more than a week since he first came to your bench and since then you’ve had more run-ins with Tommy’s brother.  The two of you have seen several sunrises together in a wordless peace. Neither of you have truly acknowledged each other outside of the bench, nothing beyond polite nods in the community hall at mealtimes and the pleasantries you both would surely afford to any other member of this community.

You’ve spent each night on the bench observing Joel. You’ve quietly noticed his features; the freckles and sun marks, the way his eyes warm when he smiles or and the depths in them when he’s avoiding a subject.

There’s a lot you still don’t know about him.

Neither of you have talked much about the substance of your lives before Jackson. It’s to be expected though. These days, it’s safe to assume that if you’re still alive, it came at a cost and perhaps you don’t need to dwell on that.

You know Joel a little more now - each of you have given small hints about the person you are. Not a lot, not everything, but it’s just enough that Joel feels more real to you.

“I heard it was a rough patrol yesterday,” you say after a moment. Beau had told you all about the horde of infected they’d bumped into. He told you that him, Bonnie, Tommy, and Joel had almost been surrounded at one point.

Sometimes you almost forget about the infected. For a little while anyway.

For the past twenty years, most of the true terror you’d felt was at the hands of humans, not cordyceps. Were you frightened of losing people to it? Of course. Had your few encounters with clickers or runners been terrifying? Yes. Were you terrified of the world you’d leave your son one day? Naturally.

It was just in the QZs, in the worlds you’d moved in between then, you always encountered more humans than infected. The outbreak had changed everything and it had amplified so much; there was no court of law now, no shallow allusions of propriety no order outside of dictatorial QZs, so in some places, the anticipated lawlessness and loss of humanity was your true fear.

Jackson is an exception.

Joel looks down for a moment after you speak and you wonder if you shouldn’t have bought up the patrol at all.

“It was fine,” Joel says gruffly.

“Okay.”

“Do you go on a lot of patrols?” he asks.

“Sometimes,” you say. “Only when it’s my rotation. I’m mostly based in the library and sometimes I help Sean in the greenhouses too.” You pause and wonder if you should add more that you’re good with a bow and arrow now, but you still freeze in close contact.

After a while, as the breeze reaches your fingers and you regret not packing gloves, you reach down and pull a thermos out of your rucksack. You take a long sip, savouring the hot liquid and warming your fingers on the container.

You look over at Joel and then down at the flask in your hands.

“It’s just chicory coffee,” you say, offering the thermos to him politely. “A little dandelion root too I think.”

He looks at you curiously.

“Why?”

“I’m getting chilly, and it seems rude to sit here and drink coffee and not offer any to you.” Jackson has burrowed its way under your skin now; there’s no way you would have done this a year ago. Or perhaps it’s the bench, the magic of this place in the middle of the night. It’s like the rules you’ve built over the years can ease slightly here. The air feels just minutely lighter.

“Thanks.” Joel accepts the battered thermos, takes a long look at it, and then takes a tentative sip of the drink.

“Still nowhere near as good as the real thing,” you say wistfully. “And it’s caffeine free, but sometimes I can pretend it isn’t.”

“Better than nothing, I guess.”

“Exactly.”

“Where do you get it from? I know FEDRA had regular supplies and they grew it out in one of the QZs.”

“It grows wild around Wyoming and Sean’s cultivated a patch of it in the gardens too. Esther, in town, she makes it all. Esther’s definitely a good person to befriend if you want to keep a supply of it. She’s nice too.”

“Yeah, Tommy mentioned her.”

You smirk, imagining exactly the nature of the conversation between the two brothers.

“What’s that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure it is. Just you really seem to be settling into Jackson now.”

Joel shakes his head with a smile. “Don’t you start.”

“Okay, I won’t. So, how’s Ellie? I saw her in the library today, well, yesterday now,” you say lightly.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh, she’s going through our space section pretty quickly. We’ll have to see what we can find on patrols.”

“Yeah, she’s really into space.” You can hear the affection in his voice; the deep love he has for her and that sense of pride that he knows this about her, knows about her interests.

“If any new books come in, I can put them aside for her.”

He looks at you with an unreadable expression. “Thanks.”

“It’s nothing.” You pause. “I think I get it. I never had a space phase, but I spent several months really fascinated with deep sea exploration when I was a kid. We moved to the coast and suddenly it was right there and I’d never thought about it before. I mean that I get where she’s coming from.” You have no idea where this sudden burst of honesty came from and you feel your face heat at what you’ve said.

“We’re a long way from the coast now,” he says softly. “Don’t think I’ve seen a beach in years.”

“No?” You smile sadly. “Me either. We’ve mostly only travelled inland since - well, since everything and sometimes I really miss it. Sean and I, we’ve been friends since we were kids and we used to just spend every weekend by the water.” You remember the start of your dream and fold your arms around yourself.

“What about you?” you ask, eager to change the subject and curious about the man beside you. “What was your thing?”

“I um,” Joel pauses as though he’s genuinely bewildered by being asked this question “I was into, uh -” He looks away from you. “The usual stuff, football and uh, all that.”

“Really? Just football?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joel asks, folding his arms.

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

He exhales and stretches his long legs out on the bench more. You follow the line from his feet up to his body and eventually his face. He looks uncertain, as though there’s something he wants to add, but he’s not sure.

“I wanted to be a writer, or to work with books, or words in some way. Had all these ideas about being an investigate journalist, or an editor, or just ... I think I just wanted to make art of some type. It’s probably why I’m so focused on the library now.”

“Music,” he whispers. “I was really into that.”

“So, you played … something? Guitar?” You look at him and decide he was most definitely a guitarist. He has the look, might even have the hands for it.

“Maybe,” Joel says,

“Please tell me you were in a terrible garage rock band at one point?” You smile at the image this conjures of the broad and elusive man next to you.

“In high school, for a brief moment. Then uh, things changed for us all and I - I had other priorities in my life than music.”

“That’s a shame.”

“It was the right call.”

“Still, if you loved it … it’s never too late? Did you know, they sometimes do open mic nights at the Tipsy Bison, but it’s … ropey, some of it.” You grimace at the memory of the last one that Sean and Beau had dragged you to a few months ago.

“You’re really selling this to me, sweetheart.”

“Hey, until you’ve heard Seth sing karaoke, you truly haven’t hit rock bottom.”

Joel scoffs, a small smile on his face that crinkles his eyes and warms every feature.

You thought you would hate sharing your bench, or having an intrusion on your solitude, but you don’t.

Over time, you’ve perfected sneaking back into this house. There’s a way to shut the back door just so to prevent anyone hearing you wander in. You avoid the bottom stair which creaks, and the other creaky floorboards on the landing.

Every time you do this, you feel like a teenager again. You grew up reading books and watching movies where teenagers snuck out to and from parties, but that had never been your life. You were studious, deferent to the rules. Your focus was singular; college, success, making a name for yourself. Sean used to try and persuade you to join him at parties or even just when he and his friends would hang out at the beach in the evening after surfing. You had thought you had time.

The world had different plans for you all though.

By the time you’ve crept back to your room, changed, and got ready for the day ahead, you can hear the familiar sounds of cupboards being opened and closed in the kitchen below.

“Mornin’ sweetie,” you say, squeezing Gabe’s shoulder as you walk into the kitchen.

Your son squirms but smiles lightly when he meets your eyes. The last twenty years have been an unending endurance test, painful and exhausting, but now you have Gabriel. You weren’t ready for him; you felt too young, too scared, too everything. He means everything to you now though.

He wears so many of your features and mannerisms, or features you remember seeing in your family. You find it uncanny; that mix of uniqueness and familiarity all at once.

“Is anyone else up yet?” you ask, stifling a yawn as you scan the kitchen for additional cups or plates, any sign the others are awake.

“Beau’s still asleep but Sean said he’d be down in five -”

“Which means he’ll be down in ten,” you both say together.

You were offered separate houses when the four of you first arrived in Jackson. There was an entire house that Maria told you could just be for you and Gabriel.  After almost a decade of living in a small, crapped apartment in Kansas with too thin walls and continual threats it had seemed unbelievable. Sean and Beau had been offered the house opposite you too. Maria had recognised how close you all were.

There’d been too much death along the way though; too much loss. You and Sean had been together so much of it all too. You were close friends before the outbreak and now hopelessly and hideously co-dependent on each other. Even back in Kansas, your apartment had been next to his and Beau’s. For more than a decade, you haven’t had more than a single wall separating you.

The idea of being so separate, of being more than a wall away, in a new community prettified you. You were frightened about what Jackson really could be; what it could be hiding, how quickly you may need to run. You felt like a deer in the headlights, a wild animal being stalked by prey. For the first weeks in Jackson, the town itched your skin and filled you with anxiety. There had to be a dark side, it couldn’t be that simple. You all needed to be ready to run.

The four of you had decided to stay together, to stay close, just in case. It was meant to be temporary.

It’s been two years now.

It also means you never have to worry about Gabe when you sneak out at night, it means your son has his uncles in his life every day. It means you’re not alone throughout everything.

They’re only people you have left now - the family you both found and made. They are the ones who have shaped the last twenty years of your life.

You take a sip of your tea and smile at your son.

“So, small bit of news I asked if Uncle Beau could take me on patrol next week,” he says quietly after a moment. “He said yes.”

“No. Gabriel, you’re -”

“I’m sixteen.”

“I know.” You swallow and look at him carefully. You remember him being so small you could hold him in one hand but now he’s sitting opposite you and he looks both so young and like a man all at once. Patrols? That’s normal for him now, that’s the way of life in Jackson. He’s still so young though.

You hear a creak on the staircase and listen carefully as your son continues making his case.

“It’s time I started learning about this and Beau will watch out for me if you’re worried. He said the route next week is the best to get started with,” he says, brow furrowing with concern at your reaction. “I’m ready though.”

“I’m sure you are. I know Uncle Beau will be there with you, I’m glad of that.” It’s better if he goes with Beau. You know him, you trust him and he will ensure that your son is safe.

“So how do you feel about that, patrol? Is this your idea or have you been volunteered?” Your son starting on this path is one thing if it’s his choice, but if he’s only going along with this because he thinks he’s supposed to, or because of teenage peer pressure? Well, the consequences are a lot worse in your son’s world, than chunky highlights or double denim could ever have been.

“It’s my idea. I’m fine with it,” he says quickly, avoiding your gaze.

You put your cup down and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Ergh, look, okay Jesse did his first patrol last week. Please - I can do it, I know I can. I want to.”

You’re tempted to reply, ‘and if Jesse walked off a cliff, would you?’ If you say it out loud though, there is no way you can deny you are turning into your mother, so instead you take a long sip of your drink.

It feels like a losing battle. Patrols are part of normal life in Jackson. However, if he’s with Beau then maybe that’s okay.  If you know anything about Beau it’s that he is fiercely protective of the people he cares about. These days, that’s pretty much only Sean, you, and Gabriel.

“If you feel you’re ready and if Uncle Beau agrees and it’s a sensible patrol route … It needs to be in daylight, and just a short one.”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.”

He beams in response.

“I’ve got classes, I better go.” He stretches and stands up, downing the rest of his drink.

“Okay, I’ll see you later. Love you. ”

“Yeah, you too, mum.” he says quickly, looking around as if one if his friends could secretly be listening by the window. He looks back at you and his face turns softer before he quickly moves away. “Hey Uncle Sean,” he says as they cross in the doorway.

“Morning Gabe.” Sean looks over at you and says good morning to you, says your name with a cheerful smile as he pours himself a tea and then sits down opposite you at the kitchen table. 

“How much of that did you hear?”

“I started eavesdropping when Gabe mentioned Beau and patrols. I thought you handled it beautifully, by the way.”

“You’re only trying to make me less mad at Beau.”

Sean raises his hands in mock surrender and then leans back against his chair.

“Anyway, are you going to tell me about where you went last night?”

“Where I went?”

“Heard you leave, sweetie.”

“I … shit. Sorry, I thought I was quiet.”

“You are.” He sighs heavily. “So, where’d you go? Got a late-night Jackson booty call I don’t know about?”

For some unknown reason an image of Joel fills your mind, his unruly hair particularly. He often comes to the bench with mussed up hair from where you imagine he was in his own bed, trying to sleep. You imagine other ways his hair could get messy like that; your hands in his hair as he ...

No.

No.

Absolutely not.

“You do have a hook up?” Sean asks incredulously.

“No. No. I don’t. I just go for a walk is all.”

“Alone?” Sean waggles his eyebrows mischievously.

“Yes.” Technically you walk to the bench alone and then you and Joel only walk back together so that doesn’t count … and his house is before yours anyway  It really doesn’t count, right?

“Okay,” Sean says, frowning. “Are you having nightmares again? Do you need to talk about it?”

You shake your head, biting your lip. “Do you?”

“I’m okay.”

You and Sean have been friends since you first moved to the beach town you spent your teenage years in. The bond between you is irrevocable. He’s your brother, your best friend, one of the people you love most in the world.

You share scars.

The same turmoil and trauma and ghosts have buried under both of your skins in different ways. He’s been there through it all for you. You’ve been there through it all for him.

He’s the only person in the world who will ever understand the parts of you that you keep locked in boxes you can never open. And for him? For him, you know the secrets that he hasn’t even told Beau.

“Gabe … he’s been asking me and Beau about … before. He’s asking questions again,” Sean says after a moment, looking around the kitchen carefully and speaking in a low voice. “I wondered if this patrol thing was about that at first, about what we all said and … it’s getting harder to not give him any specifics.”

“Me too, but I think it’s because Jesse went on his first patrol recently.” That’s what you’re hoping anyway.

“Huh, how about that? Look, it doesn’t matter because this isn’t going away. He’s going to keep asking.”

“This all seemed so much easier when he was a baby.”

Sean raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I remember sixteen years ago, I wouldn’t say any of it was easier back then. It’s just the kid believed whatever we said with no questions.”

“Sean, tell me he still thinks …”

“Yeah. He just needs some details, honey. I know it hurts to talk about, but you have to give him something. He’s almost a man now and he’s got valid questions. I can - I would have been the same, so would you.“

You swallow and look out of the window. “I’ll handle it, Sean.”

You don’t flinch when you hear the crunch of Joel’s boots. You’ve come to expect it, anticipate the sound.

It makes you smile.

The bench doesn’t quite feel the same without him anymore.

“Howdy,” he says, the slight twang of his southern drawl more pronounced than usual.

You wave for him to come and join you on the bench.

“I didn’t see you here yesterday,” Joel says softly.

“Oh, I uh - was wiped out and I - I guess I just slept?” You notice how surprised your voice is there; you’re surprised you had a good night’s sleep for once, and you’re surprised that Joel noticed you weren’t there. In fairness, you had been due a night’s sleep as the exhaustion from your insomnia finally won out over your overthinking and anxiety. Gabriel had been on patrol with Beau that day and you’d worried yourself to the point of complete exhaustion.

Joel noticed though. He noticed you weren’t here.

“Were - were you here?”

Joel nods.

“Guess I’ve got sorta used to you being here too now.”

“I mean, it’s more the other way around. This was technically my bench first.”

“Really?” he says your name in a low, teasing voice. “You really wanna go there, huh?”

“I’m just saying. I’ve been here longer, technically and I’m saying this as a mere technicality, I have dibs on this bench.”

“An’ here I thought no-one truly owned anything in Jackson.”

“Benches are exceptions, everyone knows that.”

The two of you laugh, it’s light and somehow more soothing to you than the cup of herbal tea you’d drank before bed in the hope of repeating the night before and sleeping for once.

“I’m willing to consider joint custody or a small timeshare though,” you say.

“Oh wow, I’m real lucky.”

“I know. I wouldn’t bestow that right on just anyone.”

“I hope not.” Joel smiles and oh, you love it when he smiles. It’s so captivating.

“It got me thinkin’ though-“

“Sounds dangerous.”

“You know it. Anyway, I was thinking,” Joel looks away from you, towards the horizon and he wrings his hands together. “I guess it reminded me we have this whole world outside this bench.”

You’d thought the same thing, but you can’t say it. The words fall heavy on your tongue, your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton.

“I wondered if maybe, you wanted to get a drink one day?” He’s not looking at you. “It’s a stupid idea.”

“No, no, it’s not. Why? Why would you want that with me?”

“Maybe I just want a drink with you,” he says.

You pause. Deflection is your standard response to something like this. The idea that Joel could want to spend time with you outside of your insomnia ridden nights surprises you. Why would he want that?

You can’t lie to yourself  though; there’s something about Joel that draws you in. He’s easy to talk to and despite appearances and town mumbling, you can tell he’s not a bad person. He’s kind to you, thoughtful and you’ve thought about him.

You’ve thought about him a lot.

“Technically we’ve shared my thermos of coffee multiple times now,” you say weakly.

“That doesn’t count, sweetheart.”

“Wow, now you’re spurning my chicory coffee now, huh? That’s not good enough for you?”

“A real drink.” You can hear the meaning behind his words and it doesn’t fill you with the caution you would normally anticipate.

“And does this drink happen to be served somewhere this isn’t this bench?”

“As long as it ain’t karaoke night.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Joel Miller.” You pause for a moment, tilt your head in mock contemplation. “Okay, a drink.”

You meet Joel’s smile this time.

Tag List

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[devilsrecreation]

Skink personality headcanons

Inspired by/adding onto @spinnysocks ‘s post

Nyeusi:

-Along with being the stealthiest skink, he’s also the quietest of the bunch. While Ed and Neema don’t talk but still communicate through sounds, Nyeusi prefers to stay absolutely silent. When he does make noises like hissing or flicking his tongue, it’s only around the skinks (and Ushari when he was alive). Only time where he hisses or flicks his tongue at someone else is to insult them

-While he doesn’t have anger issues like Kenge does, it’s not that hard to piss him off. All you have to do is shove him aside and he’s already plotting revenge against you

-The skinks sometimes forget he’s there. They’ll be talking, Nyeusi suddenly flicks his tongue to comment on something, and Njano would be like “Have you been here the whole time?”

-Romance repulsed aroace; you can go do your thing with your partner, he’ll just he over by his favorite rock trying not to puke

Nyata:

-She’s one of the least likely to get mad other than Njano. She gets more amused if anything

-She’s very sassy and quick-witted. She can come up with the best comebacks on the spot and it never ceases to amuse Shupavu

-She’s definitely very smug, often mocking Nyeusi after beating him in a race. She’s competitive like that

-Honestly has a little respect for Kinyonga. Not everyone can outrun her. I like to think after Kinyonga escaped her and Nyeusi, she went “Huh…respect” before getting up to go after her. I’m not saying she likes being beaten, but she’s a good sport lol

Green female skink (who my friend has named Nyororo):

-I have a feeling she’s the flirty one, managing to sweet-talk her way into getting what she wants. All she has to do is bat her eyelashes, maybe tickle someone with her tail, and she’s getting her way no matter what. It’s only until after she’s long gone when you’d realize you’ve been tricked

-She always knows exactly what to say in every situation in order to trick someone, it’s actually kinda scary

-She’s actually known Shupavu for a while, about as long as Njano has. Maybe even longer. They’ll tell each other everything and it’s the one time Nyororo’s sweetness isn’t a trick. It’s why she sometimes joins Shupavu and Njano on missions

-You could definitely beat her at her own game by flirting with/complimenting her back. It’s not super easy though. You have to have a certain trick up your sleeve and that trick is being a girl. She can handle guys, but if it’s a girl flirting with her, she’ll get all flustered

Waza:

-Waza’s the mediator and the most chill of the group. When two skinks are arguing, he’s the one to step in and resolve it either by talking to them or by slapping them with his tail (whichever is easier at the moment lol)

-I like to think his keen eye is…inconvenient at times. He notices when someone tries to sneak away or catches someone doing weird stuff when they think they’re alone, yet he couldn’t see where Kinyonga went when the skinks were chasing her. Waza wasn’t paying attention when someone does something suspicious but somehow knows all the cutesy nicknames Reirei calls Goigoi when she thinks she’s alone

-He’s sometimes quick to assume

-Has a plan for everything cuz he comes up with all kinds of scenarios in his head

Orange skink, who that same friend has called Hasira (anger):

-You know those grumpy, sometimes old characters who get annoyed by just about everything the main character does? Yeah, that’s Hasira

-He’s definitely the eldest in the group, about middle-aged in skink years

-He’s seen it all, but not in a “wise mentor” kind of way. It’s more like “I’ve been through a lot of bullshit and I’m just done” lmao

-He’s also kind of a reluctant babysitter to everyone. Shupavu may be the leader, but he’s the one making sure no one actually dies hfhfgfg

[oonajaeadira]

i was rereading a GTTT chapter and Patricio has just been in my mind rent free, creeping in from daydreams in places i should not be daydreaming. So I’ve got a PATS question for you. How would Patricio and Reader navigate the issue of him being too drained sexually when Reader is needy?

Hello, lovely.

First of all, I want to apologize for the long hiatus I've taken on Pats and Pres. This ask--and many more--have been sitting in my inbox for far too long and I'd like to think that answering late is better than never. Thank you for your patience with me!!!

This is a very interesting question and it sparked some over-arching thoughts. I have half an answer for you here--from his point of view, and therefore the "drained" part of it. Pres may not seem too needy here, but look to the next installment for more on that.

Also, a non-apology here to everyone.

For so long I've made you believe that Patricio is confident, in control...or at least in denial about it when he's not. But he's growing. Changing. There may be more vulnerability here than you want and much less sexy times. Not everyone has a good day every day.

Kiss and Tell: Everyone's Allowed a Bad Day (GTTT PATS)

FANDOM: Calls - Apple TV (PATS is a character from ep. 3. “Pedro Across the Street.” This is not RPF.)

As with all of my PATS installments, warnings abound for explicit content. (This one's much tamer than most.)

(gif by cavill-henry)

It’s nights like these that he sometimes wished he smoked. He’ll pour himself a drink once the client wakes up and leaves, but he doesn’t want her to catch it on his breath.

Bourbon. Bath. Bed. Maybe something short and calm on streaming. There’s a new cowboy film just dropped by that Spanish director looks good. 

Leaning on the kitchen counter and staring out across the silent living room, he contemplates the novel you left on the coffee table. Wonders if you’re missing it.

It occurs to him that he could call you. He can do that now. He doesn’t need a reason anymore, but even if the reason is a rough day…actually, maybe that’s even more reason to call you. In fact, he really should ask you–

His phone vibrates on the countertop and he frowns. It’s your pattern and his heart races a little, not only because it’s you, but thinking he’s been lost in thought too long, that he’s missed the three-hour mark. But a flip of the phone shows him he’s got 20 minutes to go. 

Odd. It’s not like you to interrupt a session.

“Hey, muñeca, everything okay?” he mumbles, stepping barefoot out onto the front porch in nothing but his sweatpants.

Your voice sounds far away, “Oh shit,” before a riffling sound and then a clearer, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit dial. I didn’t know I did. I was going to call and then I saw the time…I know you’re in the middle of a session, oh loverboy I’m so sorry–”

Just the sound of your voice is an instant balm. “It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s sleeping. I was actually just thinking about calling you.”

“Oh, really?” There’s something there behind your fluster, hiding among the smile in your voice, something that he might not have noticed if you hadn’t said you meant to call.

“Something you wanted to call me about?”

There’s a sound in the background. An announcement. You’re in public. “Um, no, not really. I just had a lonely moment, that’s all.”

“Well that’s an ego boost. You wanna come spend the night?”

There’s a pause. Shocked, judging by your voice. “Really? On an appointment night?”

He scratches his head and focuses on his feet as he aimlessly paces the porch. “Sure. I mean, if like a quarter after ten isn’t too late for you to drive just to go to bed.”

“With the weather shifting and how warm you run? It’s never too late to say yes to a heated bed.”

He smiles. “Glad I can be of service.” There's silence from you and he cringes. “Shit. Not you– not– Was that a bad choice of word?”

“No. It’s just–”

“Hey. I want you here tonight. I wanna talk to you.” Another silence. He supposes that sounds ominous. It shouldn’t. “You know, here. Not…on a phone.” He’s still not good at this. 

“That sounds nice…. You, uh, need anything? I’m at the grocery store.”

“No. Just you.” It feels good to say. Right. It’s what’s needed to break what feels like an odd tension into a few comfortable, mutually smiling moments. “So. The grocery store. And you’re feeling lonely. At a grocery store.”

Your laughter--hushed but musical--is kept close to the phone. “Well I am standing in produce and they just got in some preeeeeetty nice looking eggplants.”

“Wow.”

Another laugh, less hushed, throatier. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’ll let you get back to your work. I assume you’ve got a sleeping beauty to wake up.”

Pulling the phone away from his face for a timecheck, he winces. “Yeah. I’ll see you in 20?”

“I’d say I can’t wait, but you know that I will.”

Wow. “I know and I…”Something sweet twists inside. “I know.”

After you hang up he stands a minute more on the porch in the dark. The leaves are almost all off the trees now, the crickets are gone. His feet are freezing and the skin on his torso is goosebumping; doing its best–and failing–to lift his fine hairs to shield him from the autumn chill. But it’s far from unpleasant and he finds that he’s awake for the sensation in a way he hasn’t been in a while.

He’s alive again in a way he hasn’t been in a while.

The last couple of months have been…nothing short of amazing.

He should tell you that. He should say it.

But he’s got to get to that point where…he accepts it. 

Not the relationship…the fact that there’s always a possibility it’s too good to be true, that he could lose it. He could lose you.

You’re handling everything so well, but for how long? How long until you make him choose?

Oh fuck, please don’t make me choose, preciosa, please.

The phone buzzes in his hand. Timer; no need to look, just thumbs the button to silence. On another night, he’d allow himself more time, let the client sleep while he mused. But he’s got a job to do. 

And someone special arriving soon.

So he packs these thoughts away and goes quietly inside to prepare.

________

He’s just poured the detergent in the washing machine when he hears the door open. “Hey, I’m just cleaning up, gimme a second.”

Out in the entry, your shoes clatter on the floor and then your keys jingle on the kitchen counter and before he knows it you’re on him, topless and crowding him against the washing machine, kissing him like he’s just come back from war. It’s jarring but pleasant and full of hungry sighs…until there’s a ping in his calf muscle.

“Ooh, hey, Pres, hey hey, hang on.” Taking your face in his hands he calms, he whispers, he soothes you in order to soothe himself, but you catch on instantly, concern splashing over you.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

A kiss to the tip of your nose, to your smart little nose. “No, no, I’m a little sore; just had a difficult session–a difficult day, actually. And I haven’t showered yet. So don’t get yourself too worked up here. You don’t want me like this.”

He expects you to recoil from this, to find the sex with someone else still lingering on his skin. You don’t.

You simply run your hands over his sides, lean in to kiss his chin. “Of course I do. I want you like whatever you are.”

You’re backlit from the kitchen and there’s something like a soft halo around you, bringing a glow to the roll of your cheeks, the swipe of your lip. Tracing these with a finger and finding himself reflected in your eyes, he trusts you, accepts this, tries to see himself like you do. How are you so effortless?

There’s nothing but surrender when you rake your fingers through his beard and push yourself up onto tiptoe to press a warm kiss to his forehead. “But if you really feel that way, beautiful, let me run you a bath.” 

Everytime he opens his eyes and you’re there, it's like a small miracle.

“Come on,” you smile, taking his hand and guiding him to the stairs, “let me take care of you and you can tell me about your day.”

You’re perfect. He’s so grateful he picked up the phone tonight when he did.

________

“Mmmmm, that’s good.” The sigh comes up from his bottom wells, like a contented creature crawling out of hidden caverns within. The back of his head rests in your palm, warm water spilling over his scalp. Your hands whisper and calm and soothe. He spends so much time using his touch to bring relaxation to others that he’d all but forgotten that it could go the other way. And your touch–

“So there was some heavy lifting tonight, huh?” Your finger lightly wipes away an errant rivulet from the corner of his eye. “Ness, right?”

The ghost of irritation looms. “Mmm. She has a pretty severe tailbone injury. Didn’t tell me about it before she showed up. Lot of full-body lifting on the table just to get her in the right positions for stretch.”

“I see. You’ll feel it tomorrow. And sore tailbone means no actual sex tonight.”

“Oh no, we had some fun. She’s got weeks of recovery ahead of her and she needed some practice re-routing some natural orgasm responses to different muscle groups when she ejaculates.”

“Ejaculates? She…? Ohhh.” A loving hand begins to wander lightly over his chest. “I assumed. My bad.”

“Sorry. Should have been more clear. But yeah.”

“No need to apologize. I don’t know why I hadn’t just assumed that you…took all forms of payment.”

He peeks an eye open to catch your reaction as you reach over the side of the tub toward him and finds your warm, curious smile. “Not to disparage the vaginal anatomy, but sometimes it’s nice to have my dick handled by someone who has a lifetime experience with their own.”

“Noted. Fair.”

Closing his eyes and sinking into the warm bath of your care a lifetime goes by with your hands running over his skin.

“You’re very accommodating.”

A kiss lands on his temple. “Wait until you realize I’m terribly selfish and am in it for the rewards points.” When his smile fades, your hands slow. “That was a joke.”

“I know.” Sensing a shift in tone coming when he turns to you, you instinctively pull back, but he catches your hand in his, pulling it in to place a wet kiss to your knuckles. “Would you mind if I don’t want to have sex tonight?”

“Of course. That’s okay.” A half-smile. Are you covering disappointment?

“I’m more than happy to go down on you if you–”

But a shake of your head stops him. “No, it's fine. I can tell you’re tired. You said you had a hard day. Wanna tell me about it while we get you dried off and into bed?”

He feels like a child as he simply nods, allows you to help him up, succumbs to you as you care for him. It’s easy to do, to melt under your attention, to crack open and spill. He does his best not to control the spread as he generalizes a failed report at work, a difficult project he’s fallen behind on. By the time you’re sliding into the sheets and curling up next to him, he’s breaching the topic he’s been deciding and undeciding and deciding again to tell you about–that his mother called without warning.

“She wants to meet you.”

Your breathing stills in the darkness. “You told your mom about me.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I..” you stutter, “I guess I didn’t… I’m flattered that you talk about me?”

There’s a pang of guilt that he’s let you believe you’re not important enough for him to tell the world that you’re in his life. But he sighs as you squeeze your arm around his middle. “You might feel differently if you met her.”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to meet your…is it just your mom?”

“And my father. I have an older brother but he lives in Australia. Doesn’t go home much.”

“Home issssSantiago?”

“Just outside of it. Rancagua.”

Another squeeze. Perhaps that was a lie; your arm around him and the brush of your lips on his shoulder feels like his true home now. 

“So this call was stressful because she wants to meet me. And you’re nervous?”

“The call was stressful because…I don’t…want her to meet you.” Your squeeze lightens a bit and he slides his grip over your arm in case you decide he’s awful and want to pull away. He knows he should let you go if you want to but– “I wanted to ask you, Pres…I’m sorry I don’t know if I can ask this much from you but–”

It almost breaks his heart when your arm slides through his hand, when your warmth leaves his side, when you abandon him…

But it’s only for the time it takes to hear the click of the bedside lamp, register the bright sting and spill of light, and you’re back beside him, leaning over him, turning his face to yours with one patient hand on his cheek. “What’s going on. I’ve never seen you like this.”

Shit. Get it together.

“You’re going to think I’m a fucking jerk–”

“Don’t tell me what you think I’m going to think, sir. Tell me what you need from me. Just say it.”

This leaves him with depleted gambling chips, raises the stakes. But you’re right. He has to be honest.

“The relationship I have with my family is…strained. That’s why I live here and not there. I see them somewhat regularly, but the holidays are when the whole family gets together–all the cousins–and it’s just a lot. There’s a lot that’s expected, a lot of judgements…it’s overwhelming. I can barely make it through myself, but having you there? Watching you be scrutinized on top of it when we’re just figuring this out? I just…no.”

“You know I won’t tell them–”

“It’s not that, fuck, it’s not that.” He surges in for a kiss, taking you in deep, willing you to understand him by osmosis; if only… “Every time I’ve gone down for the holidays it’s stressful enough…it’s…it’s bad enough that I’m away from my clients, but–”

“But under stress the itch gets worse. And you don’t have your outlet. And you’re not in control.”

Oh god, you see him. You see him and he’s so…fucking pathetic.

The last thing he expects is for you to pepper kisses along his mouth and chin, to dot a lingering one on his cheek before pulling him into your chest, to cradle him, breathe into his hair.

But it’s exactly what you do.

“What do you need, beautiful boy? Anything you want.”

He breathes. Sighs. Curses himself for doubting you, for assuming you wouldn’t surprise him. Allows you to hold the weight of his heart on your own without a spotter.

“I need to…not do the ‘meet the family’ thing this year. I just want you to myself for a while.”

A hum of sympathy, of bittersweetness, one that stakes his heart into the ground at your feet. “Oh Patricio. Is that all?” Your breast moves under his cheek as you lean over to turn off the light, your soft curves and soft scent and soft hum whispering to him, calming him, soothing him into you. “I’ll admit that I’m a little sad that I don’t get to show you off to my family, but I definitely see the appeal of a quiet holiday season, just us hiding away from the world together. You want me to yourself? Did you really think I would find that anything but absolutely wonderful?”

All at once, the strains of the day overtake him, the need to say more is gone and took his energy to do so right along with it. A whole lifetime of relief in just an hour. That’s your secret power. Always has been. He cannot think of words more meaningful than, “Thank you.”

Your fingertips begin their pattern of affection along his jaw, tattooing a spell of sleep through him. “This really means a lot to you, huh.” He’s too gone to get his voice to work and it seems you assume he’s fallen asleep. “Well you mean the world to me. You don’t even know, mister.”

It’s not worth the effort to drag himself from the downward pull of dreams to ask you to say more about that. Not when he knows you’ll be right here in the morning and he can ask you then.

Or say the same thing right back to you.

Maybe this time he’ll find a way to do that.

______

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

[teenwolfbywitchofhellridge]

My little crush on Tyler Hoechlin

Alright, let’s talk about Tyler Hoechlin, my inexplicable (or maybe very explicable) crush, wrapped up in a mix of his roles, his genuine charm, and his whole vibe that just gets me—a Polish introvert who finds herself absolutely smitten by this effortlessly warm American actor.

Let’s start with the roles that first hooked me in. Obviously, Teen Wolf’s Derek Hale, that brooding, growling, protector-with-trust-issues, instantly stole my heart. I’m here for all that tortured, misunderstood energy, wrapped up in a leather jacket and a stare that could probably kill vampires, if it came to that. And then, fast-forward to Superman & Lois, and suddenly Tyler is this open, clumsy, adorkable Clark Kent who’s trying to keep his life together with a dimpled smile and big-hearted sincerity. Talk about a range! From intense alpha werewolf to the world’s sweetest superhero, he’s got both ends of the spectrum covered—and he nails them both, effortlessly.

But it’s not just those headline roles. No, the crush really deepened when I started to notice him in some of his lesser-known projects. Take Bigger, where he plays Joe Weider, a guy with this quiet resilience, building a fitness empire from the ground up. It’s a subtler performance, filled with understated glances and moments that could easily go overlooked if you’re not paying attention—but Tyler makes you pay attention. He brings this determined vulnerability to the character, making you believe that Joe really did have what it took to change the world, one dumbbell at a time. It’s not flashy, but that’s what makes it so good; he gets the art of holding back, of letting the quiet moments do the talking.

And speaking of talking, don’t even get me started on his interviews. Tyler’s one of those rare actors who doesn’t just go through the motions; he brings a thoughtfulness to his interviews that’s downright magnetic. He’s humble, insightful, and introspective, the kind of guy who makes you want to listen to his perspective on, well, everything. He’ll casually talk about how he’s drawn to roles with depth or explain why certain characters matter to him, and suddenly I’m nodding along like I’m in a mini philosophy class. He’s clearly someone who cares about what he does, and that sincerity shows in every role he takes.

And then, the cherry on top: how he is with his fans. Now, as a Polish introvert, I’ve always marveled at that American openness, that effortless way of connecting with people without a second thought. Tyler takes this openness to another level, especially when he’s meeting fans. He doesn’t just do the polite smile and nod; he’s actually present. You can see it in the way he takes his time with each person, his expression saying, “Hey, it’s totally okay if you’re a little starstruck—I get it.” It’s like he understands that fans might be a bit nervous, maybe even overwhelmed, and he doesn’t just brush it off; he embraces it. He’s calm, kind, grounded, making everyone feel seen, even those of us who’d rather be hiding under a table than meeting a celebrity.

I can’t quite explain why that resonates so much with me. Maybe it’s my introverted heart that’s secretly in awe of someone who can be that open and kind, or maybe it’s just him. Because while I’d be mentally preparing for hours to hold a decent conversation, he seems to connect with people from all walks of life in a heartbeat. There’s a sincerity there, a genuine warmth, and it makes me admire him not just as an actor but as a fellow human. So, yes, call it a crush or maybe a bit of a fascination, but I’ll happily admit that Tyler Hoechlin isn’t just a talented actor or a charismatic presence on screen. He’s someone who’s got this blend of thoughtfulness, authenticity, and warmth that somehow manages to charm even the quietest, most introverted corners of my Polish heart. There’s something comforting in knowing there are people out there like him—kind, grounded, and entirely okay with meeting fans in whatever emotional state they’re in. It’s rare, and it makes him more than just another celebrity. He feels, honestly, like a genuinely good human.

And hey, I’m not usually one to get sentimental (okay, maybe a little), but if we’re talking about life and last wishes here… well, it’s pretty clear. If I were dying and somehow had one final wish, some precious wish granted through one of those hospice programs for kids (and fine, I know I’m not a kid, but bear with me!), that wish would absolutely be dinner with Tyler Hoechlin. Just a simple meal, no glamor or glitz, where I could sit across from him, laugh, and maybe get to see up close if he’s really as down-to-earth as he seems.

A part of me thinks he’d make it unforgettable, not just for me but for anyone lucky enough to be there. And even if my introvert soul would be struggling to form coherent sentences, it’d still be perfect, just for the chance to see that kind smile in real life, even for a little while.

[romione-trope-fest]

Speak Now

Title: Speak Now

Author: adenei

Selected Trope: Weasley Weddings

Summary: In the midst of trying to navigate what life looks like following the defeat of Voldemort, and the loss of so many, there’s one thing glaringly missing. The irony of it all is it takes someone else’s wedding to give Ron the kick in the pants he needs to go after what—or rather *who*—he wants.

Word Count: 1988

Rating: G

TW: mentions of character death (all canon)

“Ron, I need to ask you for a favor.” Ron’s hand stops on the doorknob, the floorboards creaking under his feet. 

The thick piece of wood is the only thing separating him from a much needed afternoon nap. Sleep has been evading him. Nightmares torturing his mind as he tosses and turns on the lumpy old mattress that’s been his for as long as he can remember.

He shoots his brother a withering look, letting go of the handle as he turns to face him. “Right now?” 

It’s been two weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts. Two weeks since Fred died. Two weeks since Harry defeated Voldemort. And two weeks since he and Hermione kissed.

Every waking moment has been filled with funerals or meetings, and helping around the Burrow to ease the load on his mum, who’s completely overwhelmed with grief. And if he’s not doing his part to ensure the household is running smoothly, he’s taking a shift with George, making sure he doesn’t do anything rash or stupid as he navigates a world without his twin.

Because of all that, he’s barely seen Hermione, let alone had a chance to sit down with her. Every time they cross paths at the Burrow, he feels like he’s not making enough of an effort to make her a priority, yet how can he when everything else is just as important right now? She always smiles and nods in understanding when he’s pulled here or there, but sometimes he wishes she’d speak up and be selfish, asking him to come with her for once instead.

“Yes, right now.”

Ron sighs, trying to prevent the eye roll that sneaks out anyway. “Can’t you ask—”

“No. Bill is with George, and this really needs to be addressed by the end of the day.”

“Fine,” he groans, opening the door wide enough to welcome Percy inside his room.

He’s so busy ushering Percy inside that he doesn’t notice that there’s someone else already occupying the space—more specifically, his bed.

“Oh! Hi, um, sorry. I was just waiting for—do you need me to go?” Hermione’s brows knit with worry.

Ron could curse Percy all over again for needing him now—especially if he’s missing another opportunity to talk to Hermione. His brother stares at the girl he longs to be his girlfriend, contemplating her presence until he finally decides.

“No, actually, I’d like you to stay. I think that would be best.”

“Percy, what is going—”

The uptight redhead straightens his tie and clears his throat. “I have an appointment at the courthouse in Devon in thirty minutes, and I need someone to come with me.”

Ron’s not sure why, but he suddenly realizes that Percy’s dressed up—in Muggle garb.

“What did you do?” Hermione’s eyes widen as the question slips out of her mouth.

“I—nothing. I’m—er—getting married.”

“What?” He and Hermione both exclaim in tandem.

“But you’re not even seeing someone! Right?”

“I—I know it seems rash and maybe rushed, but it’s not. I’ve been seeing a—a Muggle for about two years now. Her name is Audrey, and I truly love her. She knows about me and our world. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing, dating her amidst the war, but—now that things are, well, over, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Ron balks at him. “You’re seriously going to get married without the rest of the family knowing?”

“Er, no. They don’t. And that’s the thing. I do want to tell everyone…eventually, but Audrey and I had talked about eloping before things got really bad. We’ve been living in a Fidelius protected home and I had to be so careful not to get caught. Otherwise, I would have tried to make amends sooner too. But—Merlin forbid something were to happen again, I don’t want to miss my chance.”

Percy rarely gets flustered, but when he does, he is very much like Hermione. His train of thought tends to bounce all over the place and he doesn’t always make sense. Ron shakes his head.

“That still didn’t answer the question.”

“I am going to tell them. When the time is right. And we can have a reception or whatever else Mum wants to plan when she’s ready, but right now, I just need it to be me and her. We don’t want the fanfare.”

“So, why are you asking me to come with you?”

“Because we need a witness. Her best friend was supposed to come, but when I got the paperwork this morning to file the marriage license with the Ministry, we realized the witness needs to be magical for our end of things. Lara is still planning on attending, but…please, Ron?”

Ron stares at his brother, who looks at him with pleading, hopeful eyes before his gaze flits to Hermione. She nods gently.

“Fine. But I don’t have—”

“Oh, Merlin, thank you! Here.” Percy pulls his wand out and Accios something from the other room. It’s another muggle suit. “Hermione, you can come too, but I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you to—”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“No, please, I’d like you there. It would make me feel a little better knowing that some of my family can be there.”

Ron’s heart constricts in his chest. Does Percy really consider Hermione family? Even though they aren’t even together?

“I—I’ll go look in Ginny’s room to see what I can find.” Her cheeks are rosy as she climbs off the bed and slips between them, exiting the room without so much as a backwards glance at either of them.

Percy looks back to Ron. “I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

“It’s fine. You…didn’t.” 

Not technically, anyway.

“Er, right. Well, I do appreciate this. Truly. Thank you. I promise it won’t be long.” Percy glances down at his watch. “We need to leave in ten minutes. I’ll meet you in the garden and we can Side-Along?”

Ron nods. “Sure.”

As Percy disappears into the hall, shutting the door behind him, Ron has trouble wrapping his head around everything. 

Percy’s getting married. To a girl no other Weasley has ever met before—a muggle. And he and Hermione are the ones being asked to bear witness to it all.

* * *

The ceremony is just as Percy said it would be: brief, quiet, and intimate. For someone who always wanted all the pomp and circumstance of whatever position he held, this is uncharacteristically unassuming and private. And Ron can’t help but feel a little guilty upon seeing how the war—and the estrangement from his family—has changed Percy.

But when the justice of the peace asks them to say their vows, there’s a spark that comes to life in Percy’s eyes when he looks at Audrey, and even though Ron thinks his brother’s rushing things, it’s obvious they share something special. He doesn’t blame Percy for not wanting to wait anymore.

After all, hadn’t he said as much to Hermione in the Room of Requirement? ‘It’s now or never?’ Except it’s turned into ‘it was now, but then we had to wait a few weeks and he’s starting to think it might be never.’

Ron glances at his best friend, whose eyes are glassy with unshed tears as she watches Percy and Audrey share their promises with each other. He’s struck with an overwhelming feeling that he can’t quite place. Relief, maybe? Hope? Maybe it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t have the word to describe it. Until it’s obvious.

Love.

It’s against all odds—the fact that they’re here. They made it. Even when one, or perhaps both, probably shouldn’t have. Ron’s been so caught up mourning the loss of everyone who gave their lives to protect their world that he’s forgotten why they died in the first place. Fred, Tonks, Remus…they wouldn’t want everyone to grieve them so much they can’t get on with their lives. What good would all that fighting have been for? 

Maybe Percy has the right idea, marrying Audrey. Perhaps this is part of his journey of healing and moving forward on his own, and eventually he’ll find a way to fuse his life with Audrey to the one he’s working to repair with his family. Ron wonders if he should follow in his brother’s footsteps, and find his way to happiness again.

As Percy and Audrey are pronounced man and wife, Ron knows exactly what he has to do. He offers a genuine smile as they share their first kiss, signs the documentation as their witness, and congratulates them.

“Thank you for being here,” Percy extends his gratitude again as they walk down the steps exiting the courthouse.

“No problem. Just, er, maybe don’t keep this from the rest of the family for too long. I think they could probably use something happy to latch onto.”

Percy’s mouth forms into a thin line as he nods curtly. “I’ll…try not to.” Then, he turns to his new bride. “We’re going to head back to our flat, unless you need help getting home?”

And there’s Pompous Percy, back to play.

Ron rolls his eyes. “I think we’ll manage.”

Percy and Audrey wander off down the road as Ron eyes the park nearby and nods to it. “Care for a walk?”

“Sure,” Hermione agrees.

They meander side by side, and all of the things Ron wants to say storm through to the front of his mind, but he can’t latch onto a single one long enough to start a conversation. After harboring his feelings for years, how is he supposed to finally tell Hermione how he feels?

Their fingers brush as they walk, and Ron brazenly slides his hand into hers the next time the sway of their arms sync up.

“That was unexpected,” Hermione offers.

“It was.”

“But also really sweet.”

“Yeah.”

Hermione slows her pace and turns toward him, forehead crinkled in concern. “Are you alright?”

“I—yeah—”

“I feel like we’ve barely seen each other, let alone spoken since—”

“I know.” The hand that isn’t still holding hers moves to slip around her waist. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but—I’ve wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

Us. The kiss. The locket. What happened at Malfoy’s. Shell Cottage. Everything that’s ever happened between us since the fucking Yule Ball and what it could possibly mean. All of it.

He supposes any of those could be a good starting point, but that’s not what slips out of his mouth. “I want what they have—Percy and Audrey.”

“Oh?” The singular syllable catches in her throat as she looks at him in surprise.

“With you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He’s not sure how, but Hermione manages to move her body closer to his. “Me too,” she breathes. “I’ve been hoping—”

But Ron doesn’t give her a chance to finish. Dropping her hand, he brings it to her face, tilting her chin up as his lips graze hers. It’s much more gentle, tentative even, than their first kiss, and he relishes every second of the leap they’re taking.

“I never thought…” she starts to say when they finally break apart, but the words drift off and she bites her lip instead. 

He knows exactly what she means though, even without saying it. “I know. But here we are.”

“Here we are,” she agrees.

“Reckon we probably shouldn’t jump to marriage right away though,” Ron jokes. It’s the first time he’s genuinely been able to since—well, before they broke into the Ministry.

The crack brings a smile to Hermione’s lips. Merlin, he’s missed making her smile. “No, probably not. But I don’t see a problem with dating.”

“Neither do I.”

“So, it’s settled then.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Then, a wide grin spreads across his face and happiness bubbles up from his heart. “I finally get to call you my girlfriend.”

She nuzzles her head into his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” He kisses the top of her head.

For now.

[in-the-shadow-of-the-blog]

Under the Mistletoe with Aesop Sharp

Summary: Mistletoe above the potions master's classroom door?? (Aesop Sharp x unnamed/unspecified female character)

Rating: PG

Words: 700

A/N: I tried to be extra vague with this one, to make it easier to imagine your student/faculty/whomever OC. Hopefully it doesn't detract overall. Only had a light proofread so I apologize for any errors!

--

No one knew who put it there, though Garreth was the prime suspect among students. What surprised everyone the most was that Professor Sharp hadn’t removed it. A little sprig of green leaves and white berries remained fixed above the classroom doorway, the potions master striding underneath it without a glance.

"Do you think he hasn't noticed?"

"The man notices everything!"

"Why hasn't he gotten rid of it, then?"

The whispering students fell silent, looking up sheepishly to see the man in question glaring down at them.

"This rousing conversation is about your assignment, I trust?"

"Yes, Professor Sharp."

"Good."

Aesop spared them another suspicious glance before moving on to the next table.

When class had ended and the room emptied, she walked in. The very person he had been wanting to see.

"Professor Sharp?" She called out, drawing his attention from the papers on his desk.

He looked up, unable to keep the smile from his lips. The smile he wore every time he saw her face. "How may I assist you?"

"I don't suppose you have any extra dittany on hand? I've somehow let myself run out."

Aesop braced his hands on the arms of his chair as he stood. "Let me look."

She waited patiently, examining the jars and chalkboards around the classroom. Knowing Aesop hated it when someone hovered over his shoulder, she stayed back.

"Sorry, looks like I'm out as well," Aesop said behind her.

She turned in surprise, having not heard his approach. Aesop was so close, she could make out every detail of his face, the scar across his cheek, the cunning twinkle in his eye. Close enough to feel his warmth against her front.

A nervous swallow bought her just enough time to find her words. "No bother. I'll check the greenhouses."

Clearing her throat, she turned to leave the classroom, feeing Aesop's gaze on her back.

"Wait just a moment," Aesop called out.

She stopped, one foot through the doorway, and turned to look at him. Aesop approached her, a very subtle smirk forming on his lips.

"Found some." Aesop came to a stop in front of her, holding out a vial.

Her fingers close around the glass, brushing against Aesop’s palm as she takes the vial. Their eyes locked, the quiet intensity of the moment reflected in their faces. Neither of them moved, hands still indulging in the lingering touch.

Then Aesop's other hand was on her waist, pulling her close, gazing deep into her eyes. “Seems I’ve caught you under the mistletoe. We can’t break tradition, can we?”

Lips parting instinctively at his words, she glanced up at the innocuous sprig of green and white above his door, the one that had become the subject of so much gossip among the students. Good thing none of them were around to see this.

"No, we can't," she whispered back, leaning into him just enough for him to get the message of her consent.

Aesop leaned forward, lips capturing hers in a kiss that was sweet and passionate all at once. His hand cradled the back of her neck while her fingers threaded through his hair. She would happily remain like this for an eternity, letting the world slip away around them. The way Aesop's hand tugged at her hips told her he felt the same way.

A lack of air finally forced them apart, breathing heavily as Aesop pressed his forehead to hers. He had no intention of letting her go just yet. There were ten minutes before his next class, and he would not waste a single second. Not that she was trying to get away, mind.

"Were you the one who put it up there all along?" She finally asked.

Aesop shook his head. "You know me. I was hardly going to waste the opportunity."

Aesop lifted his wand, pointing it at the mistletoe above the door. Before he could cast a spell, she laid her hand on his arm, lowering it back to his side.

"Leave it," she urged. "Wouldn't it be suspicious to take it down now?"

He considered her words and nodded. "I suppose you're right. But then, cleverness is one trait I admire most in you."

While Aesop pocketed his wand, she pulled him into another kiss, stealing as much time as she could before students began wandering by. It seemed Aesop didn't suspect her ulterior motive for asking him to keep the mistletoe in place.

She was already scheming of what other potion ingredients she could run out of next.

--

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