#If you want to learn more about the world you got to ask

[figthoughts]

How do you think SB and Dean would react to reader safewording? I have some sort of idea for Dean, but with SB? Very mixed tbh

omg i have many thoughts !! allow me to ramble thank u ! (soldier boy’s part is a little ehhhh, just read with caution if ur sensitive to dubcon type scenarios!) 18+ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

— dean winchester ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

dean loves sex. he’s made that abundantly clear throughout your relationship. anytime he can get his hands on you, he will. and so naturally, you’ve spent time learning each other’s bodies, kinks, likes ‘n dislikes and everything in between. you’re entirely comfortable together.

so one day when you suddenly blurt out your safe word, dean pauses, his eyes flickering up to meet yours — to check in with you.

“baby, you okay? you wanna stop?” his words are gentle and full of love, concern splashed across his features.

his face softens while he nods along to your quiet explanation, pulling out/away from whatever he’d been doing to you. he settles down beside you, watching you as if you’re about to shatter into a million pieces.

“s’okay, sweetheart. we can stop. you don’t need an excuse. if you’re not feeling up to it, it’s not a big deal. we can just cuddle if you want,” he shrugs with a reassuring expression on his face, “you look like you need a hug, yeah? c’mere.”

dean opens his arms for you, letting you crawl against his chest. he nuzzles his chin into the top of your head, holding you snug against him, his hand rubbing down your back in a soothing motion.

“thank you for letting me know, baby,” he murmurs against your hair, leaving a soft kiss. he’s just happy you feel safe enough to ask him to stop whenever you need.

— soldier boy [ben] ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

i can’t decide between two ideas, so i’m giving you both !!

ben—your ben—the world’s strongest man who, simultaneously, is the world’s softest man the second he’s got his sweet little lady between his sheets.

there’s no denying he fucks like a pornstar on speed. it’s sometimes frightening how long he can keep at it — fucking you until you’re spent and boneless, blissed out and overstimulated from your umpteenth orgasm. he loves when you’re unable to form words, just soft incoherent babbles that force a grin to spread across his face as he plows into you with a superhuman force.

he loves going over the top to please you. and so it’s no surprise when you mumble out your safe word through warm salty tears, tired and unable to take any more of what he’s giving you. he slows down, meeting your gaze with his own. “what’s the matter? had enough, my pretty lady?”

ben knows sex with him can be a lot, and considering you’re just a sweet little doll, he knows it’s up to you to call it when you’ve had enough — cause if it were up to ben, you’d never leave his damn bed.

your mumbled pleas earn a nod in return from ben, “alright, babygirl. s’not a problem. here—” he pulls himself away from you, “i’ll run you a bath, yeah?”

you watch him get up and start heading to the bathroom, but not before he turns around, throwing you a cheeky wink, “i think that might’ve been a new record for ya, doll.”

alternatively… ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

ben’s rough. he’s rough around the edges. you know it. he knows it. everyone he’s ever met knows it. but he doesn’t just look rough or talk rough — he fucks rough.

you’re no stranger to the supe and how he bends you in half, like he’s unafraid of breaking you with his strength and brute force. for the most part, you take it like a good little thing, letting him break you down into nothing, but a whimpering little mess below him. and he loves it, ruining women while he doesn’t even break a sweat.

so when he mentions going a little further—adding a few new things to your nightly affairs—you agree, but only with the clear understanding that you get a safe word.

and ben agrees. i mean, anything to get his babydoll back into his bed, right?

so when he’s got you in half, your limbs flailing around in the air, pleading for him to stop, he simply doesn’t. he knows you know your safe word, and he hasn’t heard it leave your sweet little mouth yet. so he continues on, tiring out your sore body beyond belief — he’s really getting his kicks from seeing you all fucked out and begging like your life depends on it.

“look at you, damn slut. you like this, don’t you?” he grunts out, watching you sob and try to free yourself from his restraints. your eyes are filled to the brim with tears, your emotions clear on your face. he loves that you’re taking it for him — being a good ol’ little thing for him.

so it’s much to his surprise when you sob out your safe word. he’s a little bewildered to say the least. his brows pinch together, but he doesn’t slow down, not one bit.

his thrusts get harder, his eyes locked on your pleading little face. “just give me a damn minute. i’m close,” he mutters, his breath a little laboured, as if seeing you like this is the driving factor pushing him to the edge.

it doesn’t take long for him to finish, and when he does, he’s panting with the stupidest grin on his face. he slumps down on top of you, invading your space, “jesus, that was fuckin’ something, hey? you liked that, my sweet little thing?”

all you can do is sniffle and try to catch your breath while his weight crushes you. he presses a kiss to your cheek and he hears your breath hitch. and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants — in the palm of his fucking hand.

A/N: this was soooo fun to type up !!! i love scenario requests sm (feel free to send me more) !!!!!! also first time writing something a lil darker w the dubcon part !!! what do we thinkkkkk? <3

feedback and reblogs are appreciated! thank uuu!

✩ taglist cause why not: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4jackles @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @legalmente-loca @theoneandonlystonedspiderman420 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @jackleslvr @winchester-whiskey @emeraldcrs @freyabear @floralscented @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity @kimxwinchester @bleuatlas @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @deansbeer @artemys-ackles @bluemerakis @misatxox @star-yawnznn @ambiguous-avery @sl33pylilbunny @k-slla @deanswidow @psychicnatural @ghostlyaccurate

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[shybluebirdninja]

Off Road

Summary: Logan drives off into the mountains and doesn’t come back for days, and you’re not sure if he’s ever coming back.

Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Gf!Reader Note                : angst

The first day was always the hardest.

You stood at the window, arms crossed tight over your chest, staring at the empty driveway where his truck used to be. The silence out here was brutal—no traffic, no people, just the wind rustling through the trees and the occasional creak of the cabin settling.

You hated it when Logan left like this, hated the way it felt like the world paused in his absence.

He’d driven off two days ago, early in the morning, before the sun even thought about rising. You’d heard the soft crunch of gravel under his boots, the heavy sigh as he opened the door to the truck. He didn’t say goodbye. He never did when he went on these solo runs into the mountains.

You’d tried to ask once—tried to get him to talk about why he needed to disappear like that—but it never went anywhere. His eyes would darken, his lips would pull into a hard line, and that was the end of it.

Now, all that was left was the gnawing ache in your chest and the cold coffee sitting forgotten on the kitchen counter.

You moved away from the window, your bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor as you made your way to the kitchen.

The cabin was small, just one room with a bed shoved into the corner, a tiny kitchen, and a table that was always cluttered with Logan’s stuff—his dog tags, an old lighter, a few half-crushed cigarette packs he never bothered to throw away.

The air smelled faintly of pine, mixed with the lingering scent of his leather jacket that hung off the back of one of the chairs.

You picked up the mug of coffee, but it was stone cold now, a bitter reminder of how long he’d been gone.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, setting it back down with a little more force than necessary. The sound echoed in the empty space.

Logan was always like this—coming and going like the damn tide, slipping away when things got too heavy, when the world felt too much for him to carry.

You knew that about him when you got together, knew that he wasn’t the kind of guy who could be tied down. But that didn’t make it any easier when he left without a word.

You grabbed the edge of the counter, leaning forward, your breath fogging up the window just in front of you. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows across the trees outside.

He said he’d be back in a couple of days, but you knew better. Logan never kept promises like that, not when he was running from his own demons.

The sun was setting now, the golden light filtering through the trees, casting shadows across the cabin floor. You let out a shaky breath, running your fingers through your hair, feeling the weight of the quiet press down on you.

He wasn’t coming back tonight. You knew it in your gut.

As the light faded, you moved to the bed, sitting down on the edge, your hands falling into your lap. The silence was deafening, but your mind was louder—spinning through all the possibilities, all the reasons why he needed to be alone.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but Logan’s caring was jagged, full of rough edges and broken promises.

You remembered the way he looked at you that morning before he left, eyes distant, his jaw clenched. He didn’t say anything, just grabbed his jacket and his keys.

That was Logan—never any grand speeches, no promises of forever. He just existed, did what he needed to do to survive, and you had learned to live with that. Most days, anyway.

The bed creaked as you lay back, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing. You could almost hear the sound of his truck, the low growl of the engine as it disappeared down the dirt road. And in the stillness of the cabin, you realized how damn lonely it felt without him here.

You reached for your phone, thumb hovering over his contact. A part of you wanted to call, to hear his gruff voice on the other end of the line, even if it was just to get a grumbled, “I’m fine.”

But you knew better. Logan wouldn’t answer, not when he was out there in the mountains, trying to outrun whatever was eating him alive this time.

Instead, you tossed the phone aside, listening to it thud softly against the pillow.

Another night alone. Another fucking night wondering if he’d come back at all.

On the third day, you woke to rain. Heavy, unrelenting rain that beat against the roof, a steady rhythm that only added to the weight in your chest.

You threw on one of Logan’s flannels, the fabric soft and worn, hanging off your frame in a way that made you feel like he was still here. But it wasn’t enough—not this time.

The cabin felt smaller, suffocating in its emptiness. You couldn’t sit still anymore, couldn’t keep pacing between the kitchen and the bed, waiting for the sound of his truck.

So you grabbed your jacket, shoving your arms through the sleeves with quick, frustrated movements, and stepped outside.

The rain hit you like a wall, cold and sharp, soaking through your jeans almost immediately. But you didn’t care. You needed to get out, to breathe, to feel something other than the gnawing anxiety that had been eating at you since he left.

The forest around you was dark, the trees swaying in the wind, their branches creaking like old bones. The dirt road stretched out in front of you, winding its way into the mountains, disappearing into the mist that hung low over the treetops.

You stood there for a moment, the rain pouring down, soaking you to the bone, and for the first time in days, you let yourself feel the anger.

“Where the hell are you?” you whispered, voice breaking, the words barely audible over the rain.

He always did this. He always fucking did this. Disappeared when things got tough, when you needed him the most. It was like clockwork—Logan running off to the mountains, leaving you behind to pick up the pieces.

And every time, you told yourself you’d had enough. That this would be the last time you let him break your heart. But then he’d come back, all bruised knuckles and soft apologies, and you’d fall right back into his arms like a goddamn fool.

But this time? This time felt different.

[burningembers91]

The Beginning of Something Beautiful - Hwang In-Ho x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to: The Girl Next Door Kimchi Stew

Synopsis: When Hawng In-Ho's past is revealed, he must decide whether to continue living with his demons, or run towards the light.

Warnings: mentions of deceased wife, sexual content, 18+ only!

It’ll get easier over time. That’s what Hwang In-Ho had been told countless times by friends, family and even strangers after the death of his wife. He hadn’t believed them at first, hadn’t wanted to think of a world without her. But lately, he’d started to understand what they meant. Yes, the pain was still there, and maybe it always would be, but each day he found it a little easier to get out of bed. He’d started making friends at work, had begun exercising again and taking runs through the park he’d spent so long looking at from his apartment window. He was learning to laugh more, to smile at the small things and to find beauty in the everyday. He was slowly letting himself open up to you, showing you small snippets of the man he’d once been; the man who liked to tell jokes, who loved vintage cars, and who got overly competitive when it came to board games. He still hadn’t opened up about his past, but he was showing the man he truly was, not the grumpy hermit who shut himself away from the world.

In-Ho was still an enigma, some kind of handsome riddle you hadn’t been able to solve yet. He was spending more and more time at your apartment but stopped coming over under the guise of fixing things. He started to come over just to hang out, to watch TV or to go for a walk. He’d even invited you over to his apartment. The once bare room was now full of furniture, the walls repainted and decked out with paintings and prints. He’d cooked for you, proving himself to be an excellent chef. There were so many things still unspoken between you, but you were happy.

You could still hear him crying through the thin walls though, could still hear the turmoil he faced when the lights went out. You’d sworn you’d heard him say your name at times, his strangled groans as he fought with himself between his lust for you and his undying devotion to the woman he’d married. He was finding it harder to resist you, falling into an anguished cycle of dreaming about your touch, and punishing himself for thinking about another woman. You had slotted so nicely into his new life, the woman who had brought him back from the dead. He wanted to repay you for everything you’d done for him, but how could he when you didn’t know how much you’d saved him?

He was stacking shelves at work when you arrived, basket in hand as you did your weekly shop. You both smiled when you saw each other, In-Ho offering a small wave as he added another loaf of bread to the shelf. “Poor man,” an old lady tutted next to you. “Such a shame.” “I’m sorry?” you asked, looking at the wizened figure next to you, her head shaking as she watched In-Ho. “His wife died,” she explained, “liver failure. Killed her and their baby. It almost killed him.” You stared open-mouthed as she walked off, leaving you shellshocked. If it was true, it would explain so much about the man you’d come to care for so deeply. You had to force your feet to move you around the store, filling your basket in sickening silence as your mind reeled.

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask In-Ho about it, to ask whether his family had been so cruelly taken from him. it just wasn’t something you could casually slide into a conversation. You found it hard to concentrate at your next dinner, trying and failing to feign laughter at a story you hadn’t even heard him telling. All you could you see was a man whose family had been ripped from him. You wanted to hold his hand, to tell him everything would be ok. You’d spent so long thinking about whether your relationship would become something more than a friendship, and now you understood why it hadn’t.

Hwang In-Ho sensed the change in you, saw the pity in your eyes. Someone must have told you, must have tipped you off about his broken past. He knew it was Mrs Park. That old bat had never been able to resist gossip. He didn’t want to lose you, didn't want to risk you pulling away. he knew he needed to tell you about his past, knew he needed to come clean before you heard anything else. Every day he was finding it harder to remain alone. He was beginning to see a future with you, to see something other than the crushing loneliness he had resigned himself to.

Catching you one night as you entered your apartment, he invited you over for dinner. “You know about my… my wife,” he said, and he watched your eyes plummet to the floor. “Yes, sorry,” you admitted, “it was Mrs Park. You know what she’s like. Can’t resist a bit of gossip.” “I want to explain. There are things…” he didn’t know how to finish the sentence, didn’t know how to encompass his feelings into words. “Please join me for dinner,” he whispered. He hoped the desperation in his voice hadn’t been apparent. He didn’t want you to pity him, he’d spent enough time pitying himself. “Ok,” you smiled, “I’ll see you later.”

When you arrived that evening, In-Ho could feel his hands shaking. He’d prepared a feast, his small apartment filled with the scent of cooking and pine scented candles. You were so beautiful in your burgundy dress, clutching a bottle of wine in your hand as you entered. The dynamic had changed between the two of you yet again, and he was hoping tonight he could steer it in a more positive direction. He’d spent many a sleepless night wrestling with himself. He would always love his wife, but he couldn’t deny the life he wanted with you; the life he hoped you wanted to.

You drank wine, and ate dinner, and laughed as you both relaxed. He’d filled out over the last few months, his taut muscles visible through the fabric of his shirt. His smile and his eyes were a little brighter, and you found yourself getting lost in him as he told you story after story. “I’ve been so alone for such a long time,” he confessed. “I punished myself for something that wasn’t my fault.” He looked you dead in the eyes as he spoke the next words. “I love my wife, very much.” “I know you do,” you smiled sadly. You braced yourself for what was coming next, for the heartbreaking crush of rejection. “But… these last few months, they have meant more to me than you will ever know.” He downed the last of his wine for Dutch courage before continuing. “You have brought me so much joy, you’ve given me a reason to get out of bed every day. I had to keep finding reasons to see you, I had to keep pretending things in your apartment were broken because I didn’t know how else to tell you that I liked your company.” You laughed, your eyes glistening as you watch In-Ho expose his vulnerability. “I love my wife,” he repeated, “but you, I have feelings for you. Feelings I never thought I would feel again. I don’t want to deny myself happiness anymore. My family isn’t coming back, but I would be a fool if I didn’t try and make the best of my life. I’d like to try doing that with you, if you want me.”

Taking a deep breath, you braced your hands on the table. Tears streamed down both of your faces, both of you finding the courage to take the next step. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with tears. “Yes, I’d like that.” In-Ho laughed, a sound that came from deep within his belly. He stood, pulling you from your chair and into his chest. He smelled of fresh shampoo and cologne, his breath warm on your face as you looked into other’s eyes. Brushing your lips against his, you couldn’t deny the electricity between you. it had been bubbling for so long, from the moment you had turned up soaking wet on his doorstep. Your lips met once more, harder this time, more sure of yourselves. His hands snaked up your shoulders, his fingers coming to rest on the back your next. You tasted like Merlot and shea butter, and In-Ho couldn’t deny himself anymore.

He made love to you on his sofa, your bodies pressed together on the tiny 2-seater. Every atom of his body burned for you, your moans spurring him on as he explored you. He’d spent so many nights wondering how it would feel to be inside you, but nothing compared to the reality. You were so soft, so warm, and you fit so perfectly against him. It was like you had been made just for him. He held you as the sun came up, his fingers tracing sweet, delicate circles over your nipples. You could taste yourself on his tongue, your body still tingling from the pleasure he’d inflicted. You didn’t want to part, didn’t want to head back to the emptiness of your apartment, but you had to get to work. “When can I see you again?” He asked, pulling you in for one last kiss. “Tonight?” you smiled, brushing the tip of your nose against his as you leaned further into his arms. “I’ll be counting down the minutes,” he whispered, watching you disappear into your apartment.

For the first time in over three years, In-Ho felt weightless. He whistled as he showered, hummed to the radio as he prepared breakfast. He’d taken a huge step last night, one he never thought he’d be ready for. He heart would always hold love for his wife and child, but now it had space for you too.

[insomniadreamzz]

In love with the Wolf

Alpha!Jinx x Fem!Reader

This fic takes place in Omegaverse AU. Mentions of smut, blood, werewolves, violence, angst

This fic is also taking place in another world but with Arcane characters. A Fanfiction written by me. I don’t own any of the characters. Using (Y/N) in this fic as well for Reader.

Enjoy!

Prolouge

Jinx and Vi were both Alpha‘s and sisters. Their relationship wasn’t the best after their father died in an accident. Vi blaming Jinx for it, like she blamed her every time something went wrong. Since that accident both of them parted ways, Vi meeting a beautiful woman, a Omega called Caitlyn. Caitlyn grew up in well known pack, a family with a lot of money, living the fancy life together with Vi in a beautiful place, a mansion. Meanwhile Jinx stayed at their lifestyle they had before. Nothing looked pompous, she had a simple home, a little hideout where she spent her time resting after going hunting or just causing trouble in town. She was known for being a criminal who stole stuff from other werewolves that had a more fancier life or even going in the human town and causing trouble there.

Their father Vander always told them not to get close to the human town. It’s dangerous. Humans and Werewolves had their problems with each other obviously. War between humans and werewolves was always a thing but at that time things got quiet between them. The leader of the whole werewolf nation made a deal with the human one. A deal no one really knew exactly about but it was important for every nation that they stopped fighting and living their own life even tho there were a little outsiders who still caused trouble. Criminals like Jinx. How long will the armistice hold on until everything goes back to chaos again? Only time would tell.

———

„Is that really necessary?“ You asked as you looked at the mirror, your brother Victor helped you adjusting the tie of your new uniform.

„Of course it is. You’re an adult woman now and our government needs more people who take care of the well being of human existence. You have never been the girly girl ever since you were little. You wanted this don’t you remember? Protecting your home?“ He told you as he gave you a smile with a little hint of sadness in it. „I can’t do it because of my disability to walk but you can. Make your older brother proud.“ He mentioned and you smiled, nodding in response. Victor was right. He couldn’t do anything much but you could. Maybe it isn’t that bad and you could use what you will learn to protect your loved ones.

Even if there is no war at the moment there were still some outsiders who caused trouble on both sides, human and wolves. The city must be protected and you grew more proud with your new job, fighting for good all those years you grew stronger and smarter. At least you thought werewolves were bad and they had to be locked away as soon as they get into the human territory. It’s too dangerous letting those ‚animals‘ run free.

All those things got taught to you. All that hatred. But for what cost? Your brother disappeared and you were alone, living only for the well being of your hometown.

You didn’t know what happened to Victor. He just disappeared from one day to another. You made peace with your own mind, convincing yourself of thinking he won’t come back anymore so you will stop being disappointed every day he won’t stand in front of your door, telling you everything is fine.

„Make your older brother proud.“ That sentence from him creeped in your mind daily and you promised him you will make him proud.

You were walking along the streets, the whole morning was rather quiet, not much to do for you as you roamed along the usual are you were positioned on. You were about to take a break when you suddenly heard a loud bang, a building catching fire, your eyes widen as you saw the chaos only a few meters away from where you were standing. „Shit…“ You mumbled under your breath, running towards the building.

You saw a few people running into your direction, away from the fire, some of your coworkers who were located near your route were also on their way to where the explosion happened, helping injured people out of it.

You decided to get in, trying to find more possible injured people but you didn’t see anything, coughing as you inhaled the smoke of the fire which also made it hard for you to see anything. In the middle of the chaos you saw a figure sitting in the middle of the room you were standing. It was a female, giggling to herself insanely before she noticed your presence, pink glowing eyes looking straight into yours. Her grinning widely so you could see the tip of her fangs. She was one of them…

„What the hell are you doing!? Get outta here!“ You shout at her, not caring if she was one of the wolves. She was still a living being. Sometimes you thought you are too soft for this job but letting anyone die wasn’t one of your things to do. „Why? Don’t you love the chaos? I do like it. Because that’s all I can do right. Causing chaos and trouble.“ She answered and your eyes widened, realising she was responsible for that.

„Why???! Why did you do that? I mean-…fuck it!“ You grumbled, knowing it was pointless asking her that. When you heard the ceiling above you cracking, something snapped in your mind and you rushed to grab the other womans arm and dragging her out of here, she squirmed into your grip, clearly not wanting you to touch her but you didn’t care at this point. Just the moment you both got out, the building crushed together.

„Don’t fucking touch me!“ She growled, you having other plans though. „Are you kidding me? You are arrested.“ You said before a coworker joined you, his expression almost scared as he saw your grip on the other womans arm. „How…did you get her?“ He asked before taking the handcuffs, making sure to put them around her wrists, you both having a hard time to make her stay still but you somehow managed it together.

„What? Why are you so shocked? Isn’t that my job?“ You asked him and his answer kind of surprised you. „That’s Jinx. You have never heard of her? She is well known for doing crimes. You will get a huge price for catching her!“

Your eyes widen in surprise. That woman was Jinx? She didn’t even try to fight you but why? Why was she so easy to get? Something is definitely off here. Jinx didn’t even look at you both, she looked to the ground, looking at absolutely nothing. She looked empty and sad. She did give up so quickly it made you wonder why or was it a trick?

Ever since that day you couldn’t stop thinking about Jinx. You wondered why she didn’t try to escape from you, she could easily turn into her wolf form and escape also the colour of her eyes…that pink colour. Usually werewolves had golden eyes, why were hers so…unique? You wanted to know more about her.

It was your free day but you still made your way to the cells, the urge to see Jinx again and getting to know more about her was just too intense. You knew she probably wouldn’t want to talk but at least you could try. Maybe you could also understand how that species is thinking and if they really are this bad. You always believed in the good in people and you wanted to give it a try.

When you stood in front of her cell you saw her being all curled up in the corner, her long blue hair hanging over her face you could barely see her. The walls of the cell were covered in scratch marks, telling you she probably freaked out in there. You didn’t even habe to say anything, she could sense your presence, her head slowly lifting to look at you, thise eyes already made you feel lost in them. Her gaze was tired, she was tired. Probably from crying, her dark makeup all smudged, cheeks stained with dried tears. „What do you want? Judging me?“ She grumbled but you didn’t answer yet. You crouched down to be the same level as her, showing her you don’t wanna do anything bad. „I want to understand you.“ You finally spoke with a soft voice, making her grunt in return. „No one understands me.“ She said, both of you staying silent for a while before she finally decided to say something.

„I lost everyone. My father is dead because of me fucking up…my sister blaming me for everything that ever went wrong and left me for a fancy bitch that hates me, everyone hates me. What’s the point of trying to keep a living? Nothing. I have no one.“ Her sudden openness was surprising but you understood the part of having no one. „You know…I have no one as well…my brother…he is gone. I don’t know if he is even alive anymore. Our parents died when we were younger.“ You mentioned, looking at Jinx who hugged herself as her nails digged into her upper arms, making her bleed. „You don’t understand half of what I am feeling.“ She continued pushing you away with her words but you stayed stubborn. „So all of this chaos because you have no one?“ You dared to ask and she snorted, snapping her head up as she looked at you, her eyes filled with rage but also with pain. „I wanted to show them all! I wanted to show what I can do! But…I always end up fucking up so I accepted that this is all I can do. I can’t do anything good.“ She snarled before getting up, walking towards you as she grabbed the metal rods of the cell. „What do you even know? You’re just a human.“

„Maybe I am just a human.“ You said before standing up as well, looking directly into her eyes. „You decided to cause trouble here. That’s not your home, that’s just not right. Of course we have to do something about it don’t we?“

„A human killed my father! My fault or not he died by a humans hands! I hate you! I hate what you are!“ She kept on yelling at you, her rage radiating a lot of power but you stayed calm. „You would have been arrested in your own home as well by doing that crime. You can’t blame every human for what they have done to your family. I do believe that if we would work together instead of wanting to erase each other we will have a much more peaceful life.“ You explained, her expression still angry but surprisingly she listened to you. „Jinx. You can do better than that I know it. I don’t care what you are. You are unique. Please remember my words okay? Think about it.“ You said before turning to leave, hoping Jinx will really think about what you told her. Maybe you had a chance to get her convinced to use her intelligence and powers for good. Just maybe.

To be continued

I hope you enjoyed the first part!! It’s more of an introduction but dw part 2 will come soon! Let me know if you like this story and wanna see more. I have a lot for you incoming. ❤️

[avelera]

Oh I would love to hear more of your thoughts on Heimerdinger because all of my friends were like "aaw the poor guy, he was right about magic all along, Jayce and Viktor owe him an apology" and I'm like??? Heimerdinger literally does nothing to improve any situation ever! I was so hoping he'd learn his lesson under Ekko, but when he got stranded in an AU and just decided to stay there and permanently take over his other self's body and let his original timeline perish I was genuinely horrified by his complacency (again). TBH I would have really liked to see him confronted with the fucked up culmination of all the fiddling with the Arcane in person, because I think I wanted him to see that he was right, he was right and yet he didn't change anything in the end (I'd even argue that he gets away without facing the consequences of any of his failings, he escapes Jinx' bombs even tho he failed in politics and he escapes the Arcane Apocalypse even tho he failed as a guide to his pupils and Hextech safeguard.)

Heimerdinger is a super interesting character and I'm glad you asked this because the previous meta discussion got me thinking about him but I didn't really know where to begin. I'll try to break my thoughts down with some cohesion:

I do think Heimerdinger learned his lesson within the narrative but specifically with regards to his two demonstrated personal flaws. Heimerdinger's two greatest flaws within the narrative are:

1) A lack of understanding and empathy towards those with shorter lives

2 ) The way his immortality detaches him from actually living his life (which feeds into point 1).

This is going to get long though, so I'm gonna start picking apart what I see as Heimerdinger's flaws and his virtues and how those get addressed beneath a cut:

So as I said, I would argue that Heimerdinger's arc does address his core flaws. His moment of greatest personal cruelty is when he fails to recognize Jayce and Viktor's desperation and, instead of agreeing to help them and guide them to make their experiments safe in the face of their desperation for Viktor to live, he just tries to shut them down. He gets exactly what he deserves there.

Then, in the AU universe, he recognizes this and agrees to help Ekko. He then willingly sacrifices his own life to send Ekko back to the canon universe, where Ekko is instrumental in saving the day. That, I would argue, is Heimerdinger's redemption arc, and he needed a redemption arc.

Also, while he was in the alternate timeline, he learned how to live in the moment, which addresses his second flaw, which feeds into his first flaw. I don't blame him for not feeling urgency to return home, without Ekko, he had no way of doing so. It could be seen as complacency, or perhaps simply an understanding of the reality. Would that world have been a better place if he'd invented Hextech just for a shot at returning to his universe? I'd argue that he was trying to be selfless by not doing so, when we see how much damage Hextech did in the canon universe. I think he was simply at peace with a shitty situation for himself, rather than actively avoiding his responsibilities.

As for the other Heimerdinger, who knows! Was there even one? Do yordles only have one identity across the multiverse? Or was there an element of redemption in Heimerdinger choosing to take his alternate self out of the Council? We just don't know.

As for his political identity, Heimerdinger is super interesting there too. Technically, he's an immortal enlightened despot in Piltover as its founder. I think he hides this fact from himself by allowing a council of humans to sometimes outvote him, in a fig leaf over the fact he really doesn't have the right to govern a bunch of humans, and I think him getting voted out of the Council acknowledges and narratively punishes him for this fact. Piltover isn't as enlightened as he thought it was under his leadership, a fact he realizes when he goes to the undercity and realizes how blind he was. But I'd say those were his flaws, he was always blind and naive, not malicious. And I think the narrative punishes him accordingly by giving him a wakeup call that he was asleep at the helm. He doesn't deserve to be in charge anymore. Jayce was completely right to kick him out BUT, did things get worse without the peaceful, modulating view of Heimerdinger on the council? How would HE have voted for Zaun's independence? I'd be very curious to know.

And I think it should be noted, Heimerdinger does have virtues too! His caution towards Hextech is not only well-founded, he is 100% correct. I think people forget that Heimerdinger was never ambiguous on the subject of where Hextech would lead them, he was completely right that it corrupts, destroys, and lays waste to civilizations. There's no ambiguity there! He's completely correct!

He's also correct that there are scientific innovations that would be safer if they spent more time in testing before being made available to the wider world. It took 100 years for people to realize coal burning factories were measurably altering the world's climate. Another great example of an invention that should have been tested more before it was implemented was freon, which was used in early refrigerators and does measurable damage to Earth's ozone later to the point where it is now banned. What if instead more tests had been run?

Heimerdinger's long view of science is correct and in an ideal world, it'd be great if we could run these tests to their conclusions. However, the long view isn't the whole story, a debate that Arcane actively engages with.

Because it should also be pointed out: the refrigerator also helped improve people's health around to the world. Think of all the food and medicine that can be preserved today because of refrigeration! Literally thousands would have died if we had banned refrigerators until freon could be better studied.

That's kind of where Viktor is at vs. Heimerdinger. If freon-powered refrigerators can end hunger in the undercity, why aren't we applying it now? To which Heimerdinger answers: you don't know what else it might be doing to the world. They are in fact both correct! It's a debate! One the real world is still trying to figure out. Heimerdinger is an extreme case of the long view, and Viktor is an equally extreme case of the short view since he's frantic now that he has so little time to live. Jayce tries to balance the two and gets caught in the middle with everyone mad at him, poor guy.

Anyway, I think that covers most of what I had to say about Heimerdinger? Hope that helps!

[mawlbone]

CRACKED CRADLES - NIKTO

SNIPPET: Nikto never imagined himself to be a family man since he was a child and especially after being disfigured from his time in the FSB. But here he is, settled and snuggled between cotton sheets and cradling an innocence in the grasp of bloody hands with a lover in tow. A pittance from above perhaps…

[CW: amab reader, afab nikto, mpreg, manipulative nikto, mention of trans pregnancy, self-depreciating thoughts, mental health and medication struggles, mentions of hallucinations, implied sex, and children.]

[COMMENT: I promise the warnings is not that bad, just the tiniest bit of hurt/comfort because Nikto is a troubled man, if anything it’s him living the domestic life here. Anyways enjoy the brainrot and know that opening yourself up to others is hard, but not impossible. But also screw me for making a whole exposition instead of going straight to the actual event, oh my gosh, this was suppose to be 500 words.]

Becoming roommates to partners was the last thing you could had expected on your long list of nonsense when you placed an advertisement online looking for a roommate to split your rent with. Even more ridiculous, agreeing to meet a stranger in the dead of night because he doesn’t want anyone else around to see him? Should that had rung some alarm bells inside that tiny brain of yours?

Thankfully you didn’t get stabbed, but instead impaled with the strangest marriage offer of your life that practically had your eyes springing out of your sockets.

The stranger’s reasoning? Whatever hotel accommodations the world could offer could never compare to the warmth of home cooked meals and security a home has, he says bluntly. Nothing more and nothing less. Honestly, you deadpan at the man for that, but with pennies in your savings and desperate to stay under a roof, there’s very little room for you to negotiate.

Sure, will most people consider what you had done fraud? Absolutely!

But the two of you aren’t exactly complaining with the benefits marriage can offer after the quickest trip to the courthouse you ever seen and ignoring the way the receptionist trying to nudge you and ask if you’re being coerced silently.

Work clothes and a masked man doesn’t exactly fit the image of the stereotypical wedding but it’s fine… Even if you have to mustered up a smile and lie between your teeth every time your coworkers gushingly ask you about when have you got the time to meet a man with how overworked you all are, something you can only fake laugh about to avoid their endless questioning.

You learned his name was Nikto.

It was a strange union per se, uncommon for most of society considering the circumstances but it wasn’t bad.

Simply it’s what had worked best between the both of you.

It was nice…

The security of it all.

No longer did you had to worry about choosing whether to keep your lights on or getting another meal on the table.

Sure, you can describe the start of your guys’ fake relationship as rocky with the both of you mutually agreeing to not interfere with each other lives as this act is only for the sake of appearances. But it’s hard to not feel guilty living off his money as he shoo you off saying what you can pay with that measly salary of yours.

Rude.

For the intimidation that Nikto can pose, a cute little cottage with a classic white picket fence was the furthest thing you could had expected saying that your apartment is too open, (whatever that means), just hidden within the depth of the woods and not too far from the city in case you need to run some errands or pick up last minute groceries.

Not exactly the image a cold blooded man Nikto describe himself as, entirely blunt about his occupation towards you as a contract soldier. You don’t mind, quite little to complain about when you can rejoice in finally having a room for yourself.

Both separate of course for privacy sake.

So the only thing you can do is small favors whenever he’s deployed, whether that be repairing his torn clothes because he doesn’t want to throw them away, picking him up from the airport during his breaks, or even getting his medication from the pharmacy for him using your marriage status. Occasionally even sending a care package or two once you start getting enough promotions to justify the shipping costs in sending him some snacks and comforts whenever you got the time.

He doesn’t talk a lot still even in person whenever he’s back home. You’ll wake up in the middle of the night to see him sitting amidst in the living room at some ungodly hour in the morning watching some late night television with a drink in hand. Or something scaring the shit out of you by staring at you from some dark corner of the room. You’re not sure what he thinks in those quiet moments.

Will most people consider this an another version of Cupid and Psyche if you reveal the fact that you never get to see your husband’s face to the outside world despite all these little favors?

Yeah, maybe so.

But honestly, who cares? You just had got a text that he’s coming home tomorrow, so that means you have to haul ass and start prepping a meal to congratulate him coming home again. Whatever you two had, whether it be bordering on roommates or partners, it’s still nice nevertheless to have something to occupy the home with all its silence when the radio becomes too tiring.

—

You’re awfully a lot like a mouse, Nikto thought when he first settle you in the cottage. Meek, overly curious, but still cautious enough to respect his space.

With the way you scuttle about the cottage playing homemaker, it’s too reminiscent of a furry rodent trying to hurry for the winter. Maybe that’s why you don’t alert his wariness, you’re too weak. Barely even human enough in his mind to register you as a threat.

What harm can you possibly do to him?

But time brings fondness and he too is unsure on what to do with you, his little mouse who somehow become very brave as of late and keep popping up in his life with homemade goods and repairing his stuff in your free time. The house is overly warm with the pops of the fireplace and grounded colors you insisted on painting the walls to ease your guys’ minds.

It’s easy with you around to know what he can perceive as his illusions when he’s too tired to take his medication because you don’t see it. It’s too peaceful with you around in your quiet little world. You aren’t freaking out about the spiders crawling on his skin that usually would had brought an unbearable itchiness in his bones if he stares long enough at them. You’re normal enough to freak about such a thing if they were on him and urge him to be careful around such a creature.

Simple as that.

Over the years, he had developed a little hobby to test you, merely bringing his hand to your throat whenever your back is turned against him and gently cradling it. Or taking your hand and placing it underneath his mask and letting you feel all the bumps and grooves on his face and watch how you react.

He doesn’t know why he does this, is he waiting for you to hurt him? To prove himself right once more that nobody can tolerate him and everyone goes away eventually?

He is unsure, so is the rest of him. Despite staring at your form and waiting for you to jolt away or twist your face in grimace at the texture of his fucked up face, you don’t. Humming away and even leaning into his touch had become the norm for you, no comment or any sense of fear about the looming danger he presents to you.

Wonderful.

Everyone conclude that you’re too complacent and feeble to hurt them. They all ignore the irritating warmth in their chest still.

Like with everything with time, things had changed over the years as well, your bedroom had become his as well after a bad night when you offered to come cuddle him, stroking his back and smoothing your hand over your scars and even kissing the ones underneath his chest. So a mattress becomes one made for two because as much as Nikto likes the excuse for you to be buried deeper within his touch, a small bed is bad for his back.

Perhaps you should had expected it. After all the change shouldn’t be surprising with how many items of his that you had already lingering about the room: from unfinished sewing projects with the numerous torn masks you have damaged from Nikto’s frustration when he felt it become too suffocating on his face, alongside the stacks of other various rags you have collected that he is too grumpy to throw away, arguing it’s still wearable even with all the holes and tears in them.

You pose no threat to him, he constantly assures himself. So why does every soft touch, every meal on the table, and every easy affection you had given him had been cumulative to him adding more and more traps around the house to keep you from the outside world. You don’t know such things are laid around the property or even about the hidden cameras littered inside the home when he’s on the field and about the true purpose of the barred windows he purchased not too long ago, excusing it as a defense against intruders and not as a means to keep you inside if worse comes to worse.

But what else to keep you here?

He’s getting old with age, his contract is ending soon, and he’s already considering retiring with the amount of money already tucked away in his accounts to live out the rest of his years lavishly if he so wishes. And you don’t depend on him much anymore with the hefty promotion you were able to get after switching your office job and working from home remotely now.

A baby, he thinks.

A baby will complete the home. Complete the typical family that everyone desperately wants to fit in. After all, there’s an extra room inside a cottage to fit a child in here.

It will incentivize you to stay. Those nagging feelings of responsibility and all those morals everyone learns about at a young age will guilt you enough to stick with him.

Surely his body is at least useful enough for this, it’ll just be a different sort of service from his body, no? You’re kind enough to pepper him with easy affection and soft touches, and sex with you previous times had been pleasant enough to know you won’t hurt him intentionally without meaning.

So you shouldn’t mind a more permanent solution to ease his worries, right? Everyone else is fine with it…

—

Anticipating a child was the last thing you could had expected on the long list of your husband’s strange motives. Should you had expected it with how destroyed your hips had become during the last few months before this announcement, maybe so.

But still, you weren’t exactly prepared for one, hell even sure if you two wanted one as he dropped the test in your hand with a blunt, “I’m pregnant” leaving his scarred lips.

It definitely had your head blanking out momentarily before coming back to the sight of Nikto playing with the hem of his shirt and avoiding eye contact with you when you remained silent and have to hurriedly assure him that you don’t mind and that yes, you would love the baby as well.

No time was wasted after your word and soon enough, the nursery is where Nikto’s former room used to be is painted white with little animals painted all over its walls and ceiling to entertain a young child’s imagination for days on end after much debate. Already the closet and shelves is stuffed full of clothes and diapers to prepare you for the long awaited road ahead.

Nikto always liked to keep all his precious things inside one room, he told you about it long ago of how he did it with his toys as a child, burying it within the piles of his clothes inside his closet, and with his weaponry at the base underneath his bed and now with you and himself all tucked up nearby inside the bedroom merely arms away from him.

Perhaps that’s why pregnancy was calm for him, nothing more than a few bumps and sores with you readily available to look after him to ease his mind. No morning sickness, no sudden dizzy spells, or an urge to hunch over in pain. If anything, you were amazed with how peaceful the child was, praising them and kissing the bump much to Nikto’s embarrassment who can only push your head away and scold you after you went exploring with the changes in his body a bit too far that one time.

A shame, but if there’s anything he appreciates your willingness to help him whenever.

Even if that meant locking yourself in the bedroom with a very unhappy pregnant husband practically clawing the walls saying he can feel a presence inside the home and huffing away at you when you revealed you hired a housekeeper to clean up the cottage during the last few months of his pregnancy.

“Why did you invite a stranger here…”, You’ll hear him grumble, the most frustrated you had seen previously after breathing a bit too loudly one night and waking him up.

You had to hold Nikto to your chest, which isn’t hard anymore with the giant bump he sported and call the poor lady saying you’ll pay extra if she was able to do it as quick as possible for you two. All while assuring Nikto afterwards that no, an old lady will not go expose all of them to danger because she’s a friend’s mother you know from work that you hired so the house chores can still be done while you’re occupied with him.

How troublesome, you sigh, peppering Nikto’s face with kisses as a means to calm him down and promising him a nice dinner and massage later if he comes back to the bed with you.

You had other little things set up to help alleviate your anxious ridden husband’s thoughts during the last few months of his third trimester. Finally feeling the cramps settling and getting the urge to run away and have the baby by himself, you had to sooth him when he vehemently refuse to go to the hospital, saying that there will be too many people in the room touching him and doing operations inside and it’ll make him feel violently ill, but leaving out the part that he fears that they’ll take his baby away from him after seeing his mental conditions in his chart and deem him unsuitable to be a father.

Thankfully you didn’t question him further, but it didn’t stop you at least getting a midwife, a tiny grey-haired recently retired nurse, to monitor him. She was kind enough to explain the procedure to him, every little step and how to prepare him for the birth as she gets you two ready for your daughter’s arrival. You forever found it humorous that she basically had to bully your husband into stop nesting and lay down because “is he trying to get the baby out early with all his moving”, you’ll see her scold as he rolls his eyes all annoyed.

But with the birth coming soon enough, settling Nikto on the bed and having you there to hold his hand, it was nothing short of smooth with three firm pushes and there she was, your daughter was born kicking into the world with a mighty wail as the midwife cleaned her bloodied self up before presenting her to Nikto to hold. Immediately her cries soothed as you watch Nikto stared almost wondrously at her as her hand grips his finger.

You think this is the first time you seen him truly this shocked, all in awe at his child yawning away and sleeping in his arms and smiling. You had to stop yourself from crying at her cute little face but if anything you managed to catch a glimpse of an appreciative look being thrown at the midwife from Nikto as she gently carried the baby back to dress up properly before settling her nearby him.

That doesn’t stop you from worrying over Nikto still when the midwife deemed you all ready enough for her to departure. Eventually after dealing with too many nights of your husband waddling away to the nursery to watch over your daughter, “you’re suppose to rest, please!” You finally decided to build another crib at the foot of your bed so Nikto can peer down at her whenever he wants when his paranoia keeps him up at night.

It’s terribly cute, you’ll wake up to her blabbering as Nikto plays with her on the bed, laid down between the both of you in the middle and surrounded by the warmth of your bodies’ as she squirms away from her father’s endless tickling on her tummy. Her and her little mouse onesie that Nikto bought for some reason that you put her in the night before was too damn adorable, practically having you pressing her cheeks with kisses before reaching over to smooch your husband to thank him as well for gifting you a wonderful gift.

You don’t know what goodwill you had done to gain such a wonderful family, but you won’t ever question it, this life that you thought you’ll never known before.

But you’ll laugh when Nikto pushes your face away saying to not do such indecency in front of the child before leaning forward to give you a peck as well.

—

For all the shame Nikto holds with the haunting of his past, there is nothing more rewarding whenever he holds his daughter in his arms as he rocks her to sleep. For all her tininess, she’s so warm and alive and the only thing Nikto knows that is inevitably real in his world because she grew inside of him. She’ll gaze up at him and wonder why her father’s tears drip down onto her body but she’ll never complain, only reaching up and holding her father’s face in her hands and hold him.

You never have the heart to intrude onto these intimate moments. But you hope he knows you’ll be there in every step of the way and help as much as he allows you to.

The cottage may had become a mousetrap designed for you, but perhaps he had willingly become trapped within your own as well.

[aventurineswife]

pookie please write some more Sunday x f!reader stuff :33

“Let this moment be forever ours”

Summary: Sunday and you share a quiet evening together in a cozy home. Sunday, usually burdened with his deep thoughts and responsibilities, finds comfort in your presence, and you gently encourage him to embrace relaxation and peace. Over dinner, your bond deepens, and Sunday reveals his fears about deserving happiness and peace. The evening culminates in a tender, affectionate moment, where Sunday allows himself to feel the love and warmth of the moment.

Tags: Sunday x Female!Reader (can be read as GN!Reader too), Established Relationship, Fluff, Romance, Intimacy, Emotional Healing, Comfort, Slow Burn, Domestic Moments.

A/N: I GOTCHU POOKIEE!! 🤭💖🫣 HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS!!

Sunday sat quietly on the shared house balcony, his hair catching softly in the twilight hues. The setting sun's golden light reflected in his eyes, the color of his navy pupils creating an ethereal contrast. His halo hung serenely behind his head, spinning gently as he absently tapped his fingers against the edge of his tea cup. Gone were his usual formal clothes; instead, he wore a loose, light sweater in soft lavender and dark blue lounge pants. He looked more at ease, though the quiet depth in his gaze remained.

Inside, you moved around the small but cozy kitchen, humming softly as you prepared dinner. The smell of spices and fresh herbs wafted through the air, mingling with the faint creaks of the old house and the distant sounds of the world outside. You couldn't help but glance out the window every so often, your heart fluttering at the sight of Sunday bathed in the golden light. There was something captivating about the way he sat there, so serene yet unknowingly pensive.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” you called, poking your head out of the doorway to catch his attention.

Sunday turned toward you, his eyes softening as a faint smile graced his lips. “Do you need a hand?” he asked, his voice a gentle melody that matched the evening's calm.

You shook your head, grinning. “I’ve got it under control. You just enjoy the sunset for a bit longer.”

He laughed and stood, moving slowly as the hem of his sweater brushed against his hips with each step. “Relaxation is something I’m still trying to learn,” he said, resting against the counter. His ear-wings fluttered delicately as he watched you stir the pot on the stove. “But I suppose I can give it a try—for you.”

“You should,” you joked, looking up at him. “You’re always so serious. Don’t you think you’ve earned a break?”

Sunday tilted his head slightly, his halo shimmering faintly under the warm light. “Perhaps. Even in times such as this, though, my mind won’t rest. It’s... hard to mute the noise.”

You paused, letting the wooden spoon clatter to the side as you turned to him. “What’s on your mind now?” you asked softly, wiping your hands on a towel.

He hesitated, his eyes darting up toward the window where stars were beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky. “You,” he said in a low, honest voice. “And how moments like these feel so fragile. Like a dream I’m afraid to wake from.”

Your breath caught at his honesty, and warmth bloomed in your chest. “You don’t have to worry about waking up,” you said, moving closer. “This is real, Sunday. We’re real.”

His eyes met yours, their depths shimmering with unspoken emotions. “I want to believe that,” he murmured. “But sometimes I wonder if I deserve this kind of peace.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his sleeve. “You do,” you said firmly, “and I will remind you every day, whether you want me to or not.”

A soft laugh escaped him, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease a little. “You’re persistent,” he said, a note of fondness in his tone. “I admire that about you.”

“Good,” you replied with a playful grin, tugging him toward the small dining table. “Now sit down, and let me spoil you with food.”

Sunday allowed himself to be led, his wings fluttering slightly as if in quiet amusement. As you set the table and served the meal, he watched you with quiet reverence. The simple domesticity of the scene—the clinking of dishes, the soft glow of the pendant lamp, and the warmth of your laughter—filled a space in his heart he hadn’t realized was so empty.

As you both sat down to eat, Sunday found himself smiling more freely. The food was delicious, but it was the company that nourished him more. You talked of little things: the peculiarities of the house, plans for tomorrow, and he listened intently, tempering his usual melancholy with the lightness of the moment.

Later, as you were standing together at the sink washing and drying dishes, he caught your wrist gently, stopping you mid-motion. “Thank you,” he said, his voice soft but full of emotion. “For this. For being here.”

You turned to him, your eyes scanning his face. “Always,” you said, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. His halo flickered faintly, its golden light reflecting the warmth in his expression.

As the sun dipped toward dusk and you lay across the couch, Sunday tucked himself into the contours of your body. His wings curved over the sides to create a tight, delicate embrace, sheltering you within the world of the other side.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Sunday let himself relax. It was a fragile but undeniable truth that he found in your arms, amidst the soft glow of the house and the faint whispers of the night—that this peace, this love—it was his to hold on to.

[sirhamburrger]

Can I get a earl grey with 100% sugar and a crossiant on the side for Rin Itoshi 🙏(the link didn’t work for the post 💔)

sure! let's double-check your order first, shall we? ➼ earl grey -------- friends to lovers ➼ (100% sugar) --- fluff ➼ croissant -------- drabble/oneshot ➼ for r. itoshi ------ who's only ever got soccer on the brain... and you! ➼ total ------------- 649 words ➼ contents -------- slightly possessive rin, pda, bad pacing, pda at the end, it also probably doesn't get good until the end alright, here you go! presenting...

on soccer and you (r. itoshi x reader drabble) courtesy of kai’s cat café! - 150 followers event

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rin itoshi's life revolves around soccer. if he’s in a good mood, soccer is probably the reason why - a good game, maybe, or a new skill learnt. if he’s in a bad mood, it’s probably also to do with soccer. busy? likely busy with soccer. even if he’s not busy, his mind is probably fixated on his next game or practice session. rin itoshi lives his life as if the world were a soccer field and every moment, a match waiting to be played.

so, naturally, he does everything like he plays soccer.

he does his schoolwork like he plays soccer. cautious, careful, calculating. you see it in every clinical movement, every learned thought spoken aloud, every smooth glide of his pen across paper. his handwriting is as precise as his passes, sharp and deliberate. he doesn’t rush, doesn’t stumble; every stroke of his pen carries the weight of strategy. 

he eats like he’s fueling for a game. every meal is a calculation, a perfectly balanced equation of proteins, carbs, and nutrients. there’s no indulgence, no whim - just discipline. he knows his body is his weapon, his tool, his masterpiece, and he treats it as such.

even in casual moments, when others laugh and talk freely, rin is observing. his sharp teal eyes scan the room like he’s analyzing a pitch, reading movements, predicting plays. it’s not that he doesn’t want to relax; he simply doesn’t know how. soccer has taught him to always stay one step ahead, to think three steps forward - a permanent lens.

and his relationships with other people? they may as well just be another match to him, since he approaches them with the same mindset: cautious, intentional, always thinking about the long game. emotions aren’t things he shows easily; they’re like the ball at his feet - kept close, controlled, never exposed unless absolutely necessary.

and then there’s you.

if he’s the star player, you’re his number one fan, his cheerleader. always watching from the sidelines, supporting him. this is how it’s been since the two of you met in elementary school. people might think rin's more than a little scary, but that’s not true; he’s the best friend you could ask for. you go to all his matches, and if you have some kind of play, or art exhibition, or piano recital, he’ll be there. 

in a way, he’s your number one fan as much as you are his.

being around you doesn’t feel so much like a game of soccer, and that’s precisely what he likes about your friendship. with you, he can finally be his true self, and not what other people think he should be.

you’re worried that will change when you start dating him. going from being best friends to being in a serious relationship - well, the transition itself isn’t all that hard. but you’re worried that he’ll change the way he sees you, change the way he treats you. and in a way, he does. every date is planned out to perfection, every element falling into place like the pieces of a puzzle.

but, as everyone who’s seen him play knows, he gets unpredictable when he gets excited during a match.

he brings you huge bouquets of flowers sometimes, so big you need three vases to fit them all. you’re craving a really specific food? he’s running down to the convenience store at 2am for you, or looking up a youtube tutorial for it. when guys hit on you - in his presence, no less, the nerve of them - he’s pulling you into a heated kiss that leaves you stuttering and breathless. 

and he kisses you in front of the crowds too when he wins his games, uncaring of hundreds of people seeing your public displays of affection.

so yeah, he’s unpredictable when he gets crazy over you, just as he gets crazy over soccer. but you’re sure not complaining.

end.

a message from the café owner:

this request was pretty fun to work with, thanks for this anon! rin is getting to be one of my favourite characters so i'm probably going to be writing for him more and more (and two seperate times within this event LOL) and sorry about the link 😢

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© sirhamburrger || [general m.list]

[harrystylesfan2686]

Languages

Just a snippet of something I was working on but then got bored of the concept so didn't write it but I still want everyone to read the fluf. Tell me if y'all are interested in this, maybe I'll continue it with public demand<3

Plot: reader is kinda reincarnate. She was cursed in her first life by a witch because she had an affair with the witches husband. (Don't judge okay, my girl made a mistake!!) And the curse was to be reincarnated in every lifetime with her memories of last life still intact, and to find someone she loves and watch them die (Because why not).

Masterlist

○●○●

"Do you remember the languages?"

"Of course, I do. Cursed to do so, remember?" You smirk.

"Tell me something in them." Azriel's eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"我过了愉快的一天。It means, I had a good day." He looks awed by the foreign words. And then excitedly asks for more, like a child wanting to know new facts.

You laugh and amuse him, speaking in different languages, repeating a few when he asks to learn them. Speaking in these tounges, many that you forgot even existed in different worlds, it feels nostalgic, the words awakening all the happy and sad mamories that you had buried deep in your brain.

"I also remember my first language, the one I spoke in the life I got cursed."

"Oh? Tell me." He smiles softly.

You smile at him, bluntly admiring his beautiful face.

"હું તને પ્રેમ કરું છુ."

You look deep into his eyes, speaking the truth that was buried within your heart. Even though you've said it before, it feels somehow different, even more intimate in your native language. Azriel seems to have sensed the raw emotion in your words, his face filled with adortion as he asks, "What does that mean?"

You want to answer him truly but think to mess with him a little and smirk up at him. "You are weird."

The two of you bust out laughing, looking at each other, him shaking his head in disbelief with the smile still on his lips, and your head tossed back, eyes closed in pure contentment.

"I hate you." Azriel still shakes his head, looking elsewhere for a moment, trying to look annoyed but failing.

When you finally pause laughing, you crook out a reply, "I'm sorry! You are not weird-" He finally looks at you, an eyebrow raised. "You are just- odd," He scoffs. "But good odd, I promise!" The last sentence barely understandable through your laughter.

"Well, હું તને પ્રેમ કરું છુ, too."

You freeze. All signs of amusement leaving your face as you gaze at him. Your eyes widened, mouth agaped. Hearing those words, in your language, from his mouths, ignited something in you.

Also, how did he say it without mistakes after hearing only once?

He frowns at your reaction. "What- Did I say it wrong? Oh god, I made a mistake didn't I?" He winces, thinking about all the possibilities about what he could've said to have a reaction like this.

"No,You-" Blinking at him in shock, you put your hands on his neck and gently kiss him. He instanty melts into the kiss, moving his lips with yours with passion.

You pull back after a moment and say, "You said it perfectly." You're lips curved into a soft smile.

"Yeah? Now tell me what it really means."

"Huh?"

"Considering the kiss you gave me, it can't actually mean what you said."

You laugh. "Well, guess you'll never know." He sighs dramatically, then smirks. "Then I'll just keep saying it until you tell me."

"Darling, હું તને પ્રેમ કરું છુ."

●○●○

(હું તને પ્રેમ કરું છુ. = I love you. In gujarati.)

[wonziz]

I always loved everything about you

pairings : niki x female reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, angst (?), a little bit of fluff

warnings : childhood trauma, overworking, anxiety, skinship, kissing (lmk if i missed anything!)

- NOT PROOFREAD-

this is for my girlies out there who are struggling with the same thing. Always remember, thing will get easier. Dont always preassure yourseld okay? You can do it!! Im counting on yahhh<3💕 this might be sensitive to something people so if you are not comfortable in reading it, you can always skip, take care💗

𝐿ibary…🖇️

~Currently playing: i bet on losing dogs by mitski~

You have always hated niki to the core. And he hated you too… so as you thought.

- more after cut! -

It was a week after the finals, which means, its the week you got your results back. You were nervous and scared, you always had a fear of failure trying to make everything perfect, trying to always impress your parents. You always overeducated yourself from a young age, pushing yourself more and more. You never did it for yourself but always the people around you.

It was biology, one of your strongest yet weakest subjects. It was your favourite subject but sometimes, you didn’t score as well as you wanted too. You sat in your chair anxiously, waiting for your name to be called out. you watched as your classmates faces filled with joy as they saw thier result slip.

you were called by your teacher, you walked up towards her and took you’re exam paper.

you walked back to your seat, looking at the slip in your shaky hands. An 82 again. You knew you could do better. You knew you could at least have scored a 90 or more. you stared at the piece of paper, regret filling you up. As you thought the feeling couldn’t get worser, your enemy walked up to you smirking, “what did you get huh? Why is it bad? Wow thats a firs-“

You stood up cutting niki off, walking out of the classroom. Niki looked at you shocked, following you from behind.

You knew he was following you but you were angry to even care. You walked out of the school building to a secluded area behind the school. You squat down crying, crumpling the paper in your hand.

Niki stopped in his tracks when he saw you crying not knowing what to do. He walked towards you slowly squatting beside you. “Whats wrong…? Im sure you got a good grade right? Can… i have a look?” He asked gently, putting his hand over yours, taking the crumpled piece of paper out if your hand.

He stared at it in shock, you got an 82. Thats good, really good. He looked at you confused, why were you upset with this marks. Niki puts an arm around your shoulder but you pushed it away, “go away niki. Stop trying to care when you dont. You hate me”

Niki looked at you with in disbelief, him hating you? He had always had a crush on you, but he always pushed thoses feelings away. He cared for you, but was too much of a loser to admit it. He didn’t know you thought of him like that. “Me..? Hating you…? Since when? Y/n, i have always liked you. Since ages. Grades does not prove your worth… its who you are. Your world doesn’t revolve some stupid numbers and studies all the time, its about knowing that you did our best. yes we need to study and get good grades but we need to live a little from time to time. Take breaks and rest.”

you halted up to look at him before crying again. Niki’s heart cracked seeing you so vulnerable and upset. Almost immediately niki hugs you “sshh… its fine, im here… let it all out.”

He stayed by your side, patting your back. You asked, “why do you even like me? Im not a good person, im not even pretty”

“I like every about you y/n. And i mean every single thing. Your laugh, your eyes, your smile, your voice, your determination. You are gorgeous. You really are, Its so okay to fail and make mistakes… we just need to learn from it.”

You look up again, with a small smile in your face. “Thank you niki… i-“ you got cut off when niki cupped your face in his plams then placings his lips onto yours.

“shhh… no need to say thank you..i promise to always be by your side. Always.” he mumbled againts your lips.

the kiss was filled with care and love, and that was all you needed to know

Nanas love note💕 : heyyy<33 Anyways this is probably my saddest work ever. I decided to write this as to express my own feelings, and to those out there who are struggling with the same thing, dont worry, you are not alone. I hope you like it<3 remember you are not alone and if you need someone to talk too… you can always slide in my dms<3 i promise it will be a safe place for you to vent or express your feeling okay? I love you guys sooo much💞

Taglist: @sugarikiz @icyy-hoon @jaysng @amorek1m

@jakesangel @mrjypark @won-k1ss @nxzz-skz

@yuvany @jiiyen (send ask or comment to be added🤍)

[sl-walker]

Booster's Queer af

Something I wrote on Reddit on a thread asking 'what's your DC hot take??', because if you're gonna kick a hornet's nest, kick it with your best steel-toed boots and then smile:

Booster's queer. That man hasn't come across as straight-- ever. Like even when I started reading DC in 2003, he came across as queer to me, pretty much from his inception. Seriously. He comes across like someone closeted and decidedly not-straight who just stays in the closet initially because it was a very bad time to be anything other than heterosexual when he landed in the past and later because it's habit and expected of him. I don't think he's gay, I think he probably leans pretty pansexual or maybe even demisexual, but any which way, you'll never convince me he's not at least a little bit queer. He's had one in-universe romance that hasn't been retconned (Firehawk) in his entire time existing and one that was a joke and maybe not even real canon (Gladys). After almost four decades. His thing with Firehawk lasted, I think, like less than a year, too. I'm pretty sure you can count his on-panel kisses on one hand, but not more than two. He's never had a 'morning after' scene. The one seriously emotionally intimate relationship he has is with another guy. When he does flirt or attempt to, it comes off as being awkward and a bit desperate and a bit like a man who is kinda using it as cover. And like-- that really makes way more sense for him than anything otherwise. I'd sincerely hope by the 25th century that we'd stop giving a damn who loves or wants whomever else based on gender presentation. It also makes for a pretty compelling tale, a guy getting dropped into the middle of the AIDS epidemic learning a very quick and ugly lesson about what happens to queer folk in this time period. I dunno how hot a take this is, though, because at least some people up top agree (he's canonically hooked up with Ted in Teen Titans Go! and like-- any time Tom Taylor writes them, he all but says it aloud), but if TPTB were brave, they'd finally confirm it mainline. Like you don't even have to ship him with Ted (though that's my preference), just confirm he's queer. Here's my essay. What's my grade? LOL!

--

Since it's relevant, tho, here's a few pieces I wrote from a long email back and forth (since us old people still do that) with another very long-time fan of his a couple weeks ago:

But anyway, to me, he acts about like how a kid who got dropped into the 80s during the height of the AIDS panic and rampant homophobia and the wholesale death of gay men might, especially if he were queer himself. I'd probably try to straight-wash myself, too, in his boots. (I remember that time period, if distantly. I didn't realize I was queer myself until I was well into my 20s, despite falling in very desperate and intense love with another girl when I was 12. I do remember being in high school when a boy was murdered for being queer by being tortured and left tied to a fence to die, though. It was that kind of world back then for people like us. In some places, it still is.) Still, where Booster fails at any hetero romance (oh god does he), he's so devoted to Ted that a big part of his second solo was dedicated to him either trying to save the man or actively mourning him. It's heartbreaking and amazing and really actually quite good stuff, from a literary POV. Whether DC meant it or not, somehow they managed to write one of the greatest love stories I've ever seen in a comic across most of twenty years, no kidding, and I've read a lot across a lot of companies, even back when I was a twelve year old girl and ridiculed for it. And not just a great queer love story, it's a great love story period. A person can make a credible argument for it being a one-sided -- romantic and therefore non-platonic -- love, but it's pretty hard to argue it's not a very intense one regardless.

And

I guess what I'm trying to say is: This is another read on him. And I think also a very valid one. He's one hell of an amazing character, I wish DC had handled him half as well post-Flashpoint than they did pre-Flashpoint, and I don't think a queer reading of him detracts anything from how amazing he is. If anything, I think it makes the older stuff several shades deeper (and so, so relatable, god), and I think if they decided to write him as explicitly queer now, not too many people would actually be all that surprised. With or without Ted. I can't really identify with Alan Scott, love him though I do, even though I can acknowledge that a generation of gay men likely could quite strongly. But I can identify with Booster Gold, who grew up poor and wrecked his future in part for love of family, who clawed his way out of poverty and fell back into it, who has brilliant and shining moments of courage and heart, and moments where he lands on his face, who was tough enough to survive a lot of shit but devastatingly vulnerable to exploitation, and who looks like a fellow queer kid who might've fallen for his best friend, but was surrounded by homophobia and hate and terror and buried that part of himself because the alternative might have been getting beaten and left tied to a fence to die.

[cosmiischillin]

Cosmi’s Fan Series Asks are…OPEN!!

(Boundaries + Alternative version of the image are below the cut)

I’ve been wanting to get back to working on Asks again, especially since I wanted to do so for ENAF and Twilight Town but now Rayman and Welcome Hell has been introduced! So I decided to make this a full on post to explain all 4 Asks! I wanted to do this to showcase more lore and things about these universes

Welcome Hell: Send questions to your favorite puppets acting on Hell’s most wholesome show! You ask about character lore any of the such, (just don’t ask about anything relating to Hellaverse. I base the world on its own universe of Hell)

Twilight Town: Ruby’s Good N’ Gloom blog now has a full on podcast with her friends! Ask away to learn what it’s like on the bright side of the dark side

Rayman Heroes: Heroes got fans so QnAs aren’t too far off! These Heroes of the Glade of Dreams have aplenty to say about each other and their jobs (plus they sorta gotta pay rent)

ENAF: Wether it is the main series or the FNAF World variant, ask away for these characters! (Please refrain from asking about Mimic though Tales of the Pizzaplex and Ruin are currently noncanon to ENAF, please check my boundary list)

I hope you have a ball asking these different AUs questions! (I will make links for showing characters in each one I promise)

My Ask Rules!

1. I do have the right to refuse certain asks, whether it is for the reasons I might list below or if it’s already answered.

2. I’m gonna be doing art for my posts as much as I could. If your ask isn’t given art. It might just be because I was burnt out or didn’t have the energy to drawn. I apologize for this.

3. I won’t be drawing others OCs (except for events I plan in the future)

4. No NSFW asks. My content is Teens and Young Adults orientated and I personally am not comfortable answering that stuff.

5a. If there’s a QNA on ENAF, please refrain from asking about events that take place in Ruin, Tales of the Pizzaplex, and any other FNAF media that came out after base game Security Breach (ENAF’s canon only goes up to that game of the og’s canon)

5b. Please refrain from asking about Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss/Hellaverse when it comes to Welcome Hell. While it was inspired by it early on, I have since made my own original version of Hell.

6. Try to be as brief as possible (1-4) sentences with ask. Paragraphs usually overwhelm me (sorry!)

[meguwumibear]

ive got more to say about force sensitive megumi.........

The Jedi Masters are in fact pissed when Megumi staggers back to the temple with a fresh patch of inky blue bruises blooming across his flesh like burgeoning miniature galaxies. The Masters are so pissed, in fact, that Master Gakuganji even recommends his dismissal from the order. Yuuji tells him not to worry. Apparently the old geezer is always trying to dismiss Younglings and Padawans who struggle with The Code.

Megumi isn’t worried. Not because he’s certain Master Gakugani’s hold over the High Council is as frail as the man’s boney fingers, but because he couldn’t fucking care less if all the Council members agree with the goon and vote to dismiss him. Fighting is his lifeblood. He just fights the Jedi’s battles now instead of his own.

And, anyway, Megumi has other, more important things to worry about. Like the fact that he can’t stop envisioning the scrappy young girl from the ring who beat him so badly he popped a fucking boner.

At night he dreams of her. Of you. Wretched, ugly dreams that tear screams from his throat as he bolts awake. Dreams that leave his sheets soaked in sheens of sour smelling sweat. In his dreams, you are fighting and you are losing. You are losing over and over and over again.

Then the morning comes and bits of yellow sun begin to crawl their way across his bed, banishing the dreams. Or so they should. Thoughts and images of you beaten and bloody plague him during his daily lessons. They eat at him during mealtime. Visions of your body, broken, bleeding consume him while he mediates.

Megumi asks Master Gojo in passing if all Jedi have such violent dreams. Master Gojo laughs it off because Master Gojo laughs everything off. A Jedi as powerful as Master Gojo cannot make themselves any more threatening than they already are. They cannot take anything too seriously or care too much about these things. Master Gojo tells him to focus on his youth. He also tells him to mediate more as if mediation can solve all the fucking problems in all the fucking worlds.

It's Master Shoko who asks about his force dreams. He’s in the infirmary for an unrelated injury he obtained on some bullshit mission, so he doesn’t understand at first what she’s asking. Once he does, his simmering rage flares viciously to life, scorching, scalding, because Master Gojo looked him in the eyes and laughed.

For weeks these force dreams have tormented him. Visions that devour. He is so, so angry, and he is so, so scared. He isn’t sure if his visions are of the past or something yet to come. He doesn’t know if the future is fixed. If you’re already doomed. If there’s anything he can do to save you.

Worst of all, he can’t find you. He searches the pits of Coruscant all night desperately trying to catch a glimpse of you, but you aren’t at any of the popular rings. The underground is so large he could spend weeks scavenging through back alleyways and seedy bars and still have moved no closer to you.

The Jedi Masters refuse to help. Even though the Force clearly wants him to intervene, wants the Jedi, the fucking keepers of the peace to intervene, they refuse to help. They tell him his fixation on his visions is leading him down a dark path. That fear is the antithesis to peace and serenity. That if he chooses to feed this hunger, it will lead him somewhere void of light, somewhere filled with shadow.

It's the Chancelor of all people he finally finds comradery with. It’s the Chancelor who tells him that if he trusts his emotions, trusts his senses, they will lead him where he needs to be, that they will lead him to you.

The Chancelor is not a Jedi; he has no knowledge of the Force. If Megumi wants to graduate from Padawan to Knight, he should listen to his Masters. He should learn to swallow up his anger. He should mediate. He should let go.

Instead, he closes his eyes. He lets his world go dark. He searches for you.

prt 1 prt 2

[loserlvrss]

.. 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆? ( 김.𝐉𝐒)

( 一月 ). ──you knew you'd never live up to his first but, it didn't hurt any less. 김종섭 &fem!rea. ⟡ drabble, angst warn. second love trope wc : 713HUN 노트 oh i hurt my own feelings with this one

You grew up learning to be grateful. You grew up never begging for more than what you got. You watched as storm clouds rained over your family, and as sunshine cascaded. You learned to press a smile to your face and fake it ‘till you make it through your entire life. Never overstepping and never crying about what you can’t have. 

You never felt like there was any substance to you, and eventually that made you stop feeling all together. 

Except, then he waltzed into your life. And, seemingly, he was the same; a hollow shell just roaming aimlessly. 

He mirrored your shattered expressions and morphed them into ones of confidentiality. He listened to your worries all night, and wiped the snot from under your nose as you cried and cried and cried. He brought bright hues of yellow and orange and pinks into your dull world. He brought you back, tearing down the walls you built up with his bare hands. 

But, you could never do the same for him no matter how hard you tried. You knew he’d take midnight walks to clear his head instead of confiding in you. You knew he’d lock the bathroom door, or wait until you left when the emotions got too much. You could hear the gentle pleas to whatever God was out there for the pain in his heart to go away. You loved him so dearly for fixing the unimaginable. 

But, how do you swallow the love that was never meant to be yours? 

“Seob,” You pressed your palm to the closed door, whispering out a gentle plea, “Please, let me in.” And you honestly didn’t know if you were asking for the door or his heart to unlock anymore. “Just…let me help you.” 

You couldn’t take the sniffles anymore. You were driving yourself crazy within the silence—it was louder than words could ever be. You couldn't compete with someone you knew so effortlessly made him smile. You didn’t want to ask if he still saw the person he couldn’t have in your eyes but, the question was looming. Half of his heart was yours but, he’d do anything to give it back, as he would for the clock to rewind. 

In every bitter moment you knew he saw her. The memories that never faded and he truthfully never wished would. 

You were just a placeholder, the fact that he’d run back if only she let him, weighing heavy on you. In every intimate confession he saved for another you felt pathetic, wishing for more than what you got. When you woke up next to him you wondered if you’d hear him mumble a different name or if you were just self-sabotaging. You wondered if through a half-asleep state you felt like her, and when fully awake he wished you did. 

He changed you. He made you envious, determined to break his habit—the drug you wanted to be. The drug she continued to be to him as he stared down at his phone, never having blocked the contact he used to look forward to hearing from. 

It broke your heart that you couldn’t mend his. It shattered you in pieces to rip apart your mind trying to find what was wrong with you. You bit your lip raw wondering how to satisfy the person who’s supposed to love you back. Lost sleep even. The light in your eyes was bright, but at the cost of his fading. 

He tried to put you above anything and everyone else. You knew he felt strongly towards you, doing whatever in his power to make you believe it. He made that clear through actions.

He was the storm and you were the spring flowers that followed. He was the setting sun and you were the golden hour. He was the charcoal and you were the fire. 

He sacrificed his peace of mind and he got out of the spotlight so that you could only shine. 

And, you loved him so much. But his love was only surface deep, reserved for another. 

Pretty words that didn’t match the sickly expression on his face anymore; you might’ve been his second but you'll never feel the same as his first. 

“Please, I love you.” 

And, he never did unlock it. 

© loserlvrss 2025. 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱.

networks : @blossomnet @starlit-network @k-films @kstrucknet

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back to masterlist !

[rbb-travels-of-the-cube]

Stop ya silly siren event starts!

Blue Moon jolted as he was teleported away. Suddenly he was sinking as water flooded his systems. A blaring timer ringed in his head telling him to get out of the water. Not that he had meant to go in water. That damn cube.

Blue Moon thrashed as he tried to figure out the surface. This water wasn't clear, It was foggy. Blue Moon could guess it was the ocean. Not that he was too thrilled about that. Sinking deeper due to his size.

Suddenly he felt a rush of movement in the water. His body froze as he panicked. There was something in the water. There was something that could get him. A shark a whale some other abominable beast. It could literally be anything, And it could probably eat him in one bite.

Suddenly his movement grew more erratic as he tried to escape towards the water surface. He could see the glint of deep blue eyes staring at him. A large tail flashing about as the beast circled him. What seem to be nutting or seaweed caught onto its fins. It was getting near. His water intake was starting to become too much.

Suddenly he felt something against his body. Something that was stiff and clearly coming from higher above him. He latched onto it like his life depended on it. Which in his mind it did. He felt the strange object get pulled down by his weight before it stiffened and started to pull up.

Blue Moon crawled up the item himself. Exiting the water surface with a gasp. Not quite focusing on the shouts as you continued to crawl upward. The Stick like object was abandoned as he climbed onto something much larger. Only the panic as his weight made the bigger object tip over.

Blue Moon crawled as a thing flipped onto its head. Digging into what he would assume wood for grip. He didn't stop until something grabbed his ribbon harshly. Causing him to yell and pain and finally assess his surroundings.

The thing that had grabbed his ribbon was some sort of small animatronic. He wore a large lavish captain hat. His face scarred and his eyes glitchy. Wearing a large captain's cloak over an orange undershirt. His pants were a deep midnight blue. The bot was mostly black and orange. Bearing a similar resemblance to him. Although the silver steel underneath the scars was the telling difference.

He was on a boat. Boat he had flipped onto its belly. This was probably the passenger that was holding the oars He had latched onto. Behind in the distance he could see a large ship. He was most definitely in the ocean as it spanned on and on and on and on and on.

"Hold on ya strange land lubr, and stop staring at the water! I got you!"

[priestbitmoved]

                                  [ ˑ ˑ ˑ ] 𝑫𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑰𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑺 & 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝒀 , a comprehensive study.

This meta will discuss Donnie's relationship with his actual family members and his relationship with family as a concept. Here I'll be exploring how his attitude towards it has shifted and changed throughout his life. I will be touching on some fairly triggering topics in this meta, all of which have been tagged and listed below. For that reason, this meta is under a read more. Please take care when reading, and don't worry if you aren't in the headspace to read this, there's no hard feelings.

Please be aware that the following topics will be discussed, some in greater detail than others: addiction, child neglect/abuse, allusions to csa, religious trauma, homophobia, pregnancy, addiction, drug use, alcoholism, family death, suicide, trauma, and discussions of war.

Donnie, despite all the misconceptions one may have of him, is motivated by family and legacy. It haunts him in a way that nobody talks about. Every man in the Watts family tree, as far back as they can trace being in the States, has served the military in one way or the other. Every man in the Watts family, since the end of the Civil War, has owned and trained horses for one purpose or the other. They may not have been in that profession their entire lives, but they all started there. Donnie did. His father did. His brother did. You get the idea. This is part of the reason why Donnie always felt so conflicted about what he'd do once he'd graduated high school. Would he continue the family legacy and enlist like his father had? Would he follow in his brother's footsteps and look to make a name for himself as a rancher? Or would he follow his heart and become a rockstar?

Ultimately, Donnie decided to follow his heart. He's always had something to prove, his mother made sure of that. He was going to make his family (and to him, at the age of nineteen, his family consisted of his brother, his sister-in-law, his niece, and his nephew) proud. He was going to do something that would, in his eyes, make him worthy of their love. Achieving his dreams would also show them how good of a job they did in taking him in, as he always feels as though he owes them for that (even though they volunteered to do it, and were happy to help out their little brother. Brody especially, as he carries so much guilt for leaving Donnie alone with their mother in the first place.)

I think that, as a child, Donnie based his notion of family off of what his mother told him. His idea of what a family should be was very much in line with the nuclear family, a mother, a father, the white picket fence, and two children. The idea of it was hammered into his head so often-and so brutally-that he felt othered by the fact that he was being raised by a single mother. This othering led to him resenting the very idea of the family home. He hated it whenever his mother would try to engage in things like family dinner at the dining table. Or dragging him to church every Sunday because that's what families were supposed to do.

When he was taken away from his mother at the age of twelve, he was introduced to what an actual, healthy family unit looked like. Brody Watts had gotten away from Texas and made a damn good life for himself. He had two beautiful kids, a wife who adored him, and Dogwood Ranch in his care. Spending his teen years with Brody and Cassidy helped heal a lot of childhood wounds, so much so that by the time his eighteenth birthday rolls around and his mother contacts him for the final guilt trip he'll ever receive from her all he can do is feel hatred for her. Hatred for her and love for the brother who'd taken him in, love for the sister-in-law who had become the older sister he'd always wanted, and love for the kids who called him 'Uncle D!' whenever they saw him. He wanted that. He wanted a home like theirs, warm and welcoming and the total opposite of the crucifix-infested battlefield that his mother had raised him in.

His early twenties were rough. Addled by fame he was not prepared for, and an addiction to anything that takes him skywards for a couple of hours. Heroin was the real killer. He overdosed twice, and was saved twice by a family he didn't share a single drop of blood with. Rancid Creature wasn't just a successful metal band, Rancid Creature was Donnie's entire world, and a love letter to the dear friend he'd lost in Lee Bennett (who had conceptualised the band when they were thirteen and still fumbling their way through learning how to play their instruments. Lee played bass, Donnie was the drummer. The dream rhythm section.) Izzy, Sammy and Clara were, and still are, like siblings to Donnie. He would drop anything to help them... he knew it wasn't the conventional family, but it was his. It was the only one he could have around all the touring and the TV interviews anyway.

Family wasn't just a loving partner and a couple of kids running around to Donnie anymore. But it's the prospect of a family that ultimately pushed him into getting clean. Anita Huerta, a long-term on and off girlfriend, revealed that she was pregnant, and that she wanted to keep the baby. She wanted to get clean for the baby, and so did Donnie. He'd swore years before that he'd never abandon his children, he'd never subject them to his bullshit the same way his mother had. Donnie, wanting nothing more than to cultivate a warm, safe, family environment for his and Anita's child, got clean.

Now that he's in his early thirties, he knows that he doesn't need to have the conventional nuclear family to be happy. A happy family home doesn't look the same for everyone, and despite the fact that he's always stressing over being as good a dad to Emma as possible, he knows this. Family is whoever you feel safe with, family is whoever helps when you're at your worst, family isn't just blood. Donnie took a long time coming to this conclusion, and he still struggles with undoing the mess his mother made of his brain, but he's there. And he doesn't intend on backing away from it anytime soon.

For some quick-fire headcanons about Donnie's family members and his relationships with those family members, look no further!

𝑅𝐸: 𝑀𝐸𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑆𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Willa Fitzgerald & Mary Mcdonnell. )

Melissa Rose was the youngest of five daughters. Her father detested the fact that his wife would only ever give him daughters when what he really wanted was sons. This made him angry, abusive, unfaithful, and a drunkard. Her father, Adam, was a Baptist pastor. His sermons were the very definition of 'Brimstone and Hellfire.' He was a stern but charming man, with an agreeable face and the picture-perfect family. He was all about image, and this attitude would stick with Melissa all her life.

She actually wanted to run away from Texas her whole life, she had dreams of becoming a Hollywood star. She was always told that she was pretty enough to be in the movies.

Melissa married Colton Watts on a total whim, their romance was an intense whirlwind of emotions and intimacy. She'd never been treated so kindly by a man before Colton came along. He promised her the world. And then he went to war.

When Colton returned home, he was a totally different man. He was emptier than she remembered him, and she was resentful. He would have weeks, even months, of being the happy-go-lucky sweetheart she'd married. Then he'd retreat into himself and would prefer to speak to the horses he cared for than he would to her.

Eleven years of unsteady marriage later, Brody Watts was born. The euphoria of being a new parent didn't last long, Colton would soon retreat back into the stables. The same would happen ten years later when Donovan was born.

After Colton's death, and after Brody ran away from his mother's venomous tongue, Melissa was left alone to raise her youngest son. She never called him Donnie, she would only ever call him Donovan.

Donnie, as a toddler, would actually prefer the company of his mother. He enjoyed being bounced on her hip while she went about the household chores. He enjoyed listening to her read. He found his father to be something of a ghost. However, he did run and hide under Brody's bed whenever she'd get into one of her bad moods. She was vicious, a caged animal unleashed on her family.

When Colton died, Donnie was seven. And Melissa fell hard into heavy drinking. Her fuse grew shorter, and even the smallest of mistakes made by Donnie would set her off. If he cried? She'd shout. If he spilt or dropped something? She'd shout. Without even realising it, Melissa had become her father.

Donnie grew older, more vocal, and pushed back against Melissa's temper. He was rewarded with violence, with unwarranted sermons. She would punish him by making him copy entire verses from the Bible by hand. She would take scissors to his hair whenever he refused to go and get it cut. Donnie's defensive, and often explosive temper, was born here. As was his desire to solve everything with his fists.

Melissa didn't hide what she thought of her son from him. She thought he was gay, and would tell him so. She would often fling slurs at him. She thought he was a sinful child, a demon given to her as punishment for running away from her family with his father. She would tell him this too.

She would also blame him routinely for his father's death. Something that Donnie still hasn't been able to shake.

Donnie was sent to a "summer camp" that the local church ran by his mother to "fix" his behaviour. The children would learn to camp, would learn to work, and would learn to be "more Christian" in their attitudes. It was essentially a behaviour retreat for delinquent kids. It was here that one of the pastors would assault Donnie.

The second he returned home, Donnie bypassed telling his mother anything and took himself straight to the local sheriff's station. He told them everything about the pastor, and about his mother. The sheriff was an old army friend of Colton's and had suspected that something was amiss for years. He was the one who saw to it that the social services took Donnie away from Melissa.

Donnie hasn't seen his mother since, and he hasn't heard from her since his eighteenth birthday. He doesn't even know if she's still alive or not, he hasn't thought to check. He's glad to have cut her out of his life, even if there has always been a longing in him to try and get through to her. Sometimes he misses her reading to him as a child, sometimes he misses her embrace. Sometimes he just wants his mom.

He only ever refers to her as 'mother' or 'Melissa.' Only in really vulnerable moments does he ever slip up and call her 'mom.'

A lot of Donnie's self-loathing stems from the way his mother treated him. A lot of Donnie's internal homophobia stems from his mother. A lot of Donnie's issues with his own masculinity stem from his mother. All of his issues with religion and the idea of a benevolent god stem from his mother's attitudes and the fact that she sent him away to that "summer camp." He's slowly coming to terms with this and feels so much resentment towards her for it that whenever she's mentioned he tends to get stiff and oddly quiet. It takes him a long time to learn to talk about her without feeling angry, and he does so for Emma's sake.

Donnie looks most like his mother, with her soft features, curly hair, and pretty green eyes. It's why he'd always take great offence to anybody ever calling him a girl when he was a teenager.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐶𝑂𝐿𝑇𝑂𝑁 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Robert Redford. )

Colton was the middle child out of three. His older brother, Tristan, died in France, and his youngest brother, Michael, moved to Europe in the summer of forty-seven. His parents owned Dogwood Ranch, as many Watts had before them. It was the ancestral home of the Watts family.

He was raised Catholic, as many are in Longing.

He moved to Texas with his older brother to pursue a Rodeo career. Colton was a promising young Bronc rider and adored working with horses more than anything else. He also enjoyed playing guitar and singing. Music was always going to be a huge part of Donnie's life.

It was there he met Melissa Rose, who looked as though she'd just wandered off of a movie set. Colton was smitten with her, and she was smitten with him. They were young and reckless and felt invincible, and Colton wanted to give Melissa the world. They were married within six months, and, with Tristain's help, living on a plot of land in Copeville within the year.

Then he enlisted and went to war. Colton took his guitar with him to France and would sing for his fellow soldiers whenever he was able. He kept them entertained and happy despite the horrors they saw. He burned his candle at both ends and returned with bullet holes in his guitar, and holes in his heart.

He tried to fight the numbness with all his might. He tried to be present for his sons, but he'd often find himself feeling the chill of The Bulge even in the height of a Texan summer and would slip into his own mind for hours at a time.

To cope, Colton hid himself away in the shed or the stables, fearing what he might do if he was around his family for any longer than a few hours at a time. He could not trust his own body or mind.

As a result, his sons often saw him as a stranger. He tried to make up for it by teaching them guitar chords, showing them how to handle horses, or singing with them. He felt especially close to Donnie, who seemed to take better to his musical inclinations than Brody did. Brody seemed more interested in horses.

Donnie recalls several key moments with his father. Being taught to play the guitar, how to handle a gun, how to ride, how to be a Bronc rider, and being taken to Dallas when his father was due to meet with old war buddies.

Whenever talking about his father, Donnie often calls him his 'old man.' He seems to talk about him with far more respect than he ever does with his mother, despite feeling like he hardly knew him. Donnie also feels an affinity with his father now that he's an adult, especially since he's been through trauma and had to deal with the aftermath.

Donnie still owns his father's guitar, it's easily his most prized possession. He owned a silver signet ring with a cursive 'W' on it that his dad took with him to France and gave to Donnie for good luck. The ring had been in the Watts family for as long as anybody can remember. Donnie gives it to James Gallowes for good luck and as a symbol of his love for him.

In terms of appearance, Donnie takes after Colton's physical build. Looking at photographs of the two of them where their faces aren't visible, you could be forgiven for thinking it's the same person. Donnie also has his father's toothy smile and, according to Brody, Donnie's voice is freakishly similar to their dad's.

Donnie used to resent the fact that Colton put a bullet in his own mouth. It sent Brody away because it made Melissa worse.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐵𝑅𝑂𝐷𝑌 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Charlie Hunnam. )

Brody is ten years older than Donnie. Has their mother's softer face shape like Donnie does, but the rest of his face is all Colton. Right down to the scruffy blond beard and pin-straight hair. Brody's whole demeanour is gruff, but kind. He's quick to smile and far more optimistic than his younger brother.

When they were kids, Brody would jokingly refer to Donnie as Yosemite Sam from Looney Tunes whenever Donnie lost his temper. It's why Donnie has a Yosemite Sam tattoo on his arm.

Brody always stepped in and took Donnie away from their mother whenever her temper would flare, and would play with him or read to him to keep him occupied. Sometimes he'd take Donnie up to the stables to look after the horses with him. In that way, Brody was more a parent to Donnie than their actual parents were.

At first, Donnie was confused when Brody took off after Colton's death. Then his mother got worse, and then he got angry at him for abandoning him with their mother. He was so angry that a month into being put into Brody and Cassidy's care, the two had a fight that almost came to blows. It didn't, because Brody outright refused to hurt Donnie anymore than he'd already been hurt. This made Donnie break down and cry. Brody held him and the two spoke about things more calmly.

This blowout didn't diffuse Donnie's resentment entirely, but it helped Donnie understand his brother's reasons for leaving.

The ten-year gap between the two meant that talking as brothers was often difficult for them. But Brody always did his best to be patient with Donnie, to be careful around his trauma and what might set him off. He would also cut through Donnie's moping and ensure that he wasn't self-sabotaging.

Brody also gives full embarrassing dad energy whenever Donnie's got friends over. He endearingly refers to Donnie, Lee and James as 'The Three Stooges.' James would also often find himself staying over at Dogwood Ranch after Donnie discovers that his uncle is mistreating him. Brody allows it because he really wants to encourage Donnie to be more emotionally vulnerable and have more friends.

Donnie and Brody love each other fiercely and will jump to one another's defence without question, even if they find it hard to have deep discussions without the help of a few beers.

Donnie hates disappointing Brody (and by extension, Cassidy), and so doesn't reach out to him for help when he should. He often needs pushing into contacting Brody by his bandmates whenever something's going wrong or he's struggling with Emma on his own.

Donnie's object permeance (yay ADHD!) extends to people. This means, that if things aren't in his immediate everyday life, he tends to neglect them. This makes him terrible at calling Brody and keeping in touch, thankfully, both Brody and Cassidy understand this and will often check in with him of their own volition.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐶𝐴𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐷𝑌 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Freema Agyeman. )

Cassidy Jonas met Brody Watts and immediately fell in love. They bonded over a love of horses, rock music, and spicy food. They just clicked. Their friendship turned into love and ended with them married at the age of twenty-one. It was the most natural thing in the world.

Cassidy Watts was pregnant with twins when Donnie Watts crossed the threshold of Dogwood for the first time. He reminded her of her grandmother's three-legged cat, Nelson, who used to swipe at newcomers whenever they entered whichever room he happened to be sleeping in. He was jittery and jumped at every little noise. It broke her heart to learn what had happened to him, it made her angry too. Brody had to talk her out of driving to Copeville and giving Melissa Watts a piece of her mind. She couldn't conceive of ever hurting her children.

At first, Cassidy attempted to approach Donnie with kid gloves. That seemed to send him further into his shell. What seemed to appeal to him was being spoken to like an adult. A person in his own right. So she did. Because of the honesty between them, Donnie and Cassidy grew close.

Donnie had the messiest, most unhealthy head of curls when he came to Longing, and not a few months later, Cassidy had them styled and healthier than ever. Being a black woman with tight, coiled hair, she was perfectly qualified to help Donnie treat his curls properly. It was a long, careful routine that Donnie keeps to even now in his early thirties.

After the twins were born, Donnie took to being an uncle like a duck to water. He helped Cassidy with feeding them whenever Brody was out working, and would often keep them entertained when he wasn't out causing mischief with his new friends.

When Donnie's fifteen, Cassidy started to attend classes in hopes of becoming a Doctor or a Nurse, as she'd always dreamed of becoming one as a child.

If asked, Donnie would name Cassidy as the woman who raised him. She was the one who helped him out of panic attacks and soothed him whenever he couldn't sleep, she was the one who talked to him about his romantic feelings for James, she was the one who encouraged him to follow his heart after he graduated. She was also the person who put him in his place whenever he was letting his anger get the better of him.

Donnie almost exclusively calls Cassidy 'Cass', and it's always with the utmost affection. He adores her with his entire being.

Cassidy is also the first person Donnie comes out to, officially. She's the person he turns to whenever he finds himself stuck. He knows she won't judge him or think less of him for messing up. Neither would Brody, but Donnie isn't so confident with that knowledge. He's getting there.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐺𝐼𝑁𝐴 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐽𝑂𝑁𝐴𝐻 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fcs : undecided. )

Georgina and Jonah Watts are fraternal twins and are the only two children of Brody and Cassidy Watts. Donnie views the pair of them as his younger siblings.

The twins refer to Donnie as 'Don' or 'Uncle D' pretty much exclusively.

Gina falls in love with rock music because of her parents and falls deeper in love with metal and alternative music because of Donnie. Donnie often catches her rifling through his tapes when he's not keeping an eye on her. When he leaves Longing, he actually leaves the vast majority of his tapes and vinyl at Dogwood, so that Gina can listen to them. Gina also gifts Donnie with an Iron Maiden poster on his fourteenth birthday, Cassidy informs him that she wanted to give her uncle a present that meant a lot to him. He still has the poster now, it's in a frame on the wall of his office.

Jonah and Donnie bond over horses. Brody held no interest in actually participating in any kind of Rodeo events, and neither did Donnie, but Donnie knew a couple of tricks to help Jonah get started. He showed him how to ride and how to tend to the horses alongside Brody. Jonah also shares Donnie's love of Star Wars and sci-fi. He even starts to copy Donnie when Donnie starts keeping journals and writing things like song lyrics down. Jonah's got a big imagination and an even bigger heart. Donnie encourages him to feel things unapologetically and to talk to his parents when things are bothering him. When he leaves Dogwood, Donnie leaves a good chunk of his books with Jonah, knowing he'll take care of them.

Donnie misses a good chunk of the twins' milestones while he's touring with Rancid Creature, but that doesn't stop them from sending him letters and getting excited whenever he calls. He feels guilty for not being there more for them during this time, and he's always trying to make up for it, even though they hold no hard feelings over it.

Donnie also misses these milestones because he's too high, which he feels deeply ashamed of, despite the understanding he gets from Brody, Cass and the twins.

He might be terrible at calling, but Donnie has an uncanny ability to remember dates, even when he's deep in the throes of addiction and depression. He always sends thoughtful gifts and birthday cards/letters to his niece and nephew. He dedicates more than a couple of songs and awards for his music to them and their parents.

He's their favourite uncle, despite being their only uncle. And they will die defending him. They even show up to one of Rancid Creature's shows in Santa Fe to surprise him one year, and Donnie almost cries with happiness at seeing them. That's his little sister and his little brother! And he will die for them!